I was in a state of perplexity. I had written to the _City of Paris_ to retain our rooms, and now I did not know what to do. Two commissionaires followed us with our luggage. I continued: "You might as well go on first, and say that we are coming; and give the landlord to understand that I have a--a friend with me, so that we should like rooms quite by themselves for us three, so as not to be brought in contact with other travelers. He will understand, and we will decide according to his answer." But Paul growled, "Thank you; such sort of commissions and such parts do not suit me by any means. I did not come here to get ready your apartments or to minister to your pleasures." But I was urgent: "Look here, don't be angry. It is surely far better to go to a good hotel than to a bad one, and it is not difficult to ask the landlord for three separate bedrooms and a dining-room." I put a stress on _three_, and that decided him. He went on first, and I saw him go into a large hotel while I remained on the other side of the street dragging along my fair Italian, who did not say a word, and followed by the porters with the luggage. Paul came back at last, looking as dissatisfied as my companion. "That is settled," he said, "and they will take us in; but there are only two bedrooms. You must settle it as you can." I followed him, rather ashamed of going in with such a strange companion. There were two bedrooms separated by a small sitting-room. I ordered a cold supper, and then I turned to the Italian with a perplexed look. "We have only been able to get two rooms, so you must choose which you like." She replied with her eternal _Che mi fa_? I thereupon took her little black wooden box, just like servants use, and took it into the room on the right, which I had chosen for her, ... for us. A bit of paper was fastened on to the box, on which was written, _Mademoiselle Francesca Rondoli, Genoa_. "Your name is Francesca?" I asked, and she nodded her head, without replying. "We shall have supper directly," I continued. "Meanwhile, I daresay you would like to arrange your dress a little?" She answered with a _mica_, a word which she employed just as frequently as _Che mi fa_, but I went on: "It is always pleasant after a journey." Then I suddenly remembered that she had not, perhaps, the necessary objects, for she appeared to me in a very singular position, as if she had just escaped from some disagreeable adventure, and I brought her my dressing-case. I put out all the little instruments for cleanliness and comfort which it contained: a nailbrush, a new toothbrush--for I always carry a selection of them about with me--my nail-scissors, a nail-file, and sponges. I uncorked a bottle of eau de cologne, one of lavender-water, and a little bottle of new-mown hay, so that she might have a choice. Then I opened my powder-box, and put out the powder-puff, put my fine towels over the water-jug, and placed a piece of new soap near the basin.