“I do not care.... It makes nothing.... Is Arlette well?” She laughed a little at recollection of Arlette. For a few moments they walked along undecided, and then Kendall looked up to see Monsieur Robert approaching. “Here’s your actor,” he said. “What actor, monsieur?” “Monsieur Robert.” “You know heem?” “I told you about him.” “Yes.... Yes.... That was well.” Monsieur Robert recognized Kendall, and looked quickly at Andree; then he smiled and waggled his head in the charming, boyish way he had, and lifted his hat. “Good night,” he said, making a display of his English and extending his hand. “Monsieur Robert, permit me, Mademoiselle Andree.” The young actor took her hand and, with a smile that was half a laugh, bowed over it and made some response in French which was not intelligible to Kendall. “Mademoiselle wishes to enter your profession,” Kendall said, with a twinkle in his eye. “She is going to the _Académie_ in September.” “Ah....” Monsieur Robert looked at her more carefully. “You enter the _Académie_?” “I do not know—I hope.... I am working very hard.” “And you wish to be an actress?... It is well. But why?” “So she can come to New York, _à la_ Madame Bernhardt, and bring home much money, and be too proud to know an old friend like myself when I sit in the front row and applaud.” She smiled up at him. “When I come in New York you will go to see me?... But I shall be very great and famous. Oh yes. But I shall remember you, of a surety.... I shall remember you—a little.” There was an infinity of subdued roguishness about her. Monsieur Robert was studying Andree with interest. “You will be ver’ pretty actress,” he said, haltingly, speaking in English so that Kendall would share in the compliment. “You bet,” said Ken, spontaneously, and then, with characteristic American directness: “What’s this about the necessity for having some actor speak for her? She says she cannot enter unless some actor says a good word for her.” “It makes the matter with more facility,” said Monsieur Robert. Andree looked from Kendall to the young actor timidly, almost with the shyness of a child. “Why not come and dine with us?” said Ken. “I should be delighted, but it is not possible for me to-night. I am—how you say?—_très-occupé_.... But some other night—very soon.... With mademoiselle.” He waggled his head again and laughed his pleasing, boyish laugh. “Shall we say to-morrow?” “Oh, very well.” “If it is possible for mademoiselle,” and Kendall looked at Andree. “Yes,” she said, “to-morrow.” “At Marty’s,” said Monsieur Robert. “Seven o’clock?” “It is well.... _Au revoir, mademoiselle et monsieur._ Until to-morrow.” Presently Kendall stopped. “By Jove!” he said, “I forgot to tell Arlette I wouldn’t be home to dinner. She will have it ready. Shall we dine with her?” “As you like.” “And afterward we can sit and talk.”