The boys were sensible. They fell in with our suggestions without discussion. After dinner the four went off to their show. Next morning I heard Esther telling Scrappie all about it.
"The W.C.T.U. wasn't in it, baby. Chantecler was written to please kids of your age. There was nobody in that Y.M.C.A. café your daddy sent us to. My blue hat was the most conspicuous object in the place. We didn't see a thing. No types, no wickedness, no models, more than we ordinarily see around the Quarter."
Gabry's eyeglasses were shaking on her nose.
"Tell her what Monsieur Sempé said," urged Gabry.
"Yes, baby," said Esther, who was laughing in spite of herself now. "Our mama boys wanted to be polite in the American way last night. They brought us here and didn't want to leave us until they saw us inside your saintly doors. But Monsieur Sempé stopped them down at the street door. He simply yelled at the boys, 'Ça ne se fait pas à Paris, Messieurs.'
"No," concluded Esther, "from start to finish, baby, there was nothing about our party that would have hurt your lily-white soul."
CHAPTER XI
DRIFTWOOD
I WAS nursing Scrappie. Herbert came into the bedroom and started to speak slowly as if he wasn't sure how I would take what he was going to say.
"Fellow out here who is hungry. What shall I do?"
"Feed him," said I. Herbert did not have to tell me that he had no money to give the man to buy a meal. "Couldn't you ask him to dinner if he is all right?"