“It appears you have greatly suffered, my poor little Félise. But why didn’t you tell me from the first that you were unhappy with your Aunt Clothilde? I did not know she had turned into such a _vieille pimbèche_. She has written. And I have answered. Ah! I tell you, I have answered! You need never again have any fear of your Aunt Clothilde. I hope I am a Christian. But I hope too that I shall always differ from her in my ideas of Christianity. _Mais tout ça est fini—bel et bien fini._ We have to talk of ourselves. I have been a miserable man since you have been away, _ma petite_ Félise. I tell you that in all frankness. Everything has been at sixes and sevens. I can’t do without my little _ménagère_. And you shall never marry anybody, even the President of the Republic, unless you want to. _Foi de Bigourdin! Voilà!_” Félise cried a little. “_Tu es trop bon pour moi, mon oncle._” “_Allons donc!_ I seem to have been an old bear. Yet, in truth, I am harmless as a sheep. But have confidence in me, and in my very dear friend, your father—there are many things you cannot understand—and things will arrange themselves quite happily. You love me just a little bit, don’t you?” She flung her arms round the huge man’s neck. “_Je t’adore, mon petit oncle_,” she cried. Ten minutes afterwards, with bunch of keys slung at her waist, she was busy restoring to order the chaos of the interregnum. Terrible things had happened during the absence of the feminine eye. Even Martin shared the universal reprimand. For Félise, manageress of hotel, and Félise, storm-tossed little human soul, were two entirely different entities. “My dear Martin, how could you and my uncle pass these napkins from that infamous old thief of a laundress. They are black!” And ruthlessly she flicked a napkin folded mitre-wise from the centre table before the eyes of the folder and revealed its dingy turpitude. “It is well that I am back,” she declared. “It is indeed, Mademoiselle Félise,” said Martin. She gave him a swift little glance out of the tail of her eye, before she sped away, and the corners of her lips drooped as though in disappointment. Then perhaps reflecting that she had been addressing the waiter and not the man, her face cleared. At all events he had taken her rating in good part. * * * * *