"Yes, I'm going to speak to him as soon as he comes in," declared her lover with an air of hardihood that was far from real.
"Well, you must be careful not to stutter and stammer and break down then!" she smiled. Rose put her head in the door an instant.
"M. the President is here!" she whispered and was gone.
"Now, then, shoulder arms!" ordered Helene, in an eager undertone as they heard the step of the father in the hall outside. She was bubbling with inward laughter as her panic-stricken love hastily fell back out of the direct line of vision from the door. So when M. Floriot walked up and kissed her he did not at first see that his son was present.
"Good morning, my child!" he said with a ten der smile.
Raymond edged forward and cleared his throat. "You might say, 'good morning, my children,' father," he suggested in an uncertain voice.
"If you like!" was the smiling reply. And taking a hand of each he said: "Good morning, my two dear children!"
Helene ran over to his desk and returned with an enormous bunch of roses in a slender vase.
"I brought you these this morning, monsieur," she said, looking up at him shyly.
M. the President took them with both hands and buried his face in their fragrance.