“My God! Madame is going to faint. Madame is overcome with joy!” The bald man with the beard observed it, and cried out.
Madame had only shrunk and shivered. Before the words were spoken, she was standing with her hand upon the velvet back of a great chair; her figure drawn up to its full height, and her face immoveable.
“Francois has flown over to the Golden Head for supper. He flies on these occasions like an angel or a bird. The baggage of Monsieur is in his room. All is arranged. The supper will be here this moment.” These facts the bald man notified with bows and smiles, and presently the supper came.
The hot dishes were on a chafing-dish; the cold already set forth, with the change of service on a sideboard. Monsieur was satisfied with this arrangement. The supper table being small, it pleased him very well. Let them set the chafing-dish upon the floor, and go. He would remove the dishes with his own hands.
“Pardon!” said the bald man, politely. “It was impossible!”
Monsieur was of another opinion. He required no further attendance that night.
“But Madame—” the bald man hinted.
“Madame,” replied Monsieur, “had her own maid. It was enough.”
“A million pardons! No! Madame had no maid!”
“I came here alone,” said Edith “It was my choice to do so. I am well used to travelling; I want no attendance. They need send nobody to me.