This time Letitia smiled and was saved. She made strenuous efforts to remain vexed, as I could see, but in spite of herself she was moved to a suspicion of mirth, and it did her good. "Don't be a silly boy," she said, "and reserve your ingenuity. We need it in serious and not frivolous matters. I told Madame de Lyrolle that we occupied an apartment, which was not particularly spacious, and that much as we should like to employ her nephew, we could not possibly see our way to do so. She was disappointed. She then asked me about first maids, and second maids, and--and oh, Archie, I felt disgraced. I made up my mind to abandon Madame de Lyrolle." Letitia paused, and remembered her soup. She toyed with it nonchalantly. "She spoke quite kindly," resumed Letitia. "Of course, she said, we must understand that she never left her kitchen. As for doing anything else but cooking and decorating the table in case of dinner parties--that would be impossible. She insisted that she was an artist; that she had real temperament; that she was occasionally inspired, and then again depressed." "That means a depressed dinner from time to time," I muttered gloomily. "No," said Letitia firmly, "not if surrounding conditions are auspicious. I quite understood her sentiments, Archie. They were not at all unreasonable. The artistic temperament does not lurk merely with third-rate actors or fourth-rate novelists. A French cook may assuredly possess it. She told me that in moments of mental exaltation she has given to the world dishes of wonderful import. For instance, on one occasion when her mood was dreamy and mystic, she made a _salmi_ of black game that the editor of the Paris _Figaro_ said was worthy of being dramatized. Oh, she talked a good deal, and in a high-falutin' strain, and I liked her, but--" "Did you engage her?" "I am coming to that question. Finally, she told me that as we hadn't a maid, and as she positively refused to appear in the dining-room herself, she could merely suggest that if I engaged her, I also engage a bright young girl, now living with her, a niece--" "She seems to have quite a family!" "I saw the girl, who was named Leonie. She was as pretty as a picture. One could imagine her as the French maid in comedy--one of those dainty little things that wear fluffy white aprons, and occasionally do a dance. You know, Archie. The girl seemed quite willing to join her aunt, but she asked a large salary--more than we paid any of our cooks. So, you see, I didn't like to engage Madame de Lyrolle without first consulting you. It will be much more expensive than we thought. In addition to Madame's exorbitant salary, there will be Leonie, and--and--do you think we could afford it?"