"There isn't any doubt about it," I observed dryly.
"We will dine there to-night," Mr. Bundercombe decided, "that is, if you two are willing."
I hesitated for a moment. Eve was looking at me for my decision.
"I really see no reason why we shouldn't go there," I said. "I have to take Eve to some rather dull relatives for luncheon, and I suppose we shall be shopping afterward. It will brighten up the day."
"We will give Luigi no intimation of our coming," Mr. Bundercombe suggested with relish. "We shall be in no hurry; so we can order our dinner when we arrive there. At eight o'clock?"
"At eight o'clock!" I agreed.
"More presents, Paul!" Eve informed me, taking my arm. "Come along and help me unpack! Isn't it fun?"
Luigi's reception of us that night was most gratifying. He escorted us to the best table in the place, from which he ruthlessly seized the mystic label that kept it from the onslaughts of less privileged guests. He congratulated me upon my parliamentary honors and my engagement in the same breath.
It was perfectly clear to me that Luigi knew all about us. He addressed Mr. Bundercombe with an air of deep respect in which was visible, too, an air of relieved apprehension. He took our order himself, with the aid of an assistant maître d'hôtel, at whom Mr. Bundercombe glanced with some surprise.
"Where is Louis?" he inquired.