may be a necessity to the travelling public, but you're not
a luxury, in any sense of the word."

CHAPTER V.

The Senator, discovering to his surprise that the hotel clerk was a
lady, lifted his hat. He did not appear to be surprised, that wasn't the
Senator's way, but he forgot what he had to say, which proved it. While
he was hesitating she looked at him humorously and said "Good evening,
sir!" She was a florid person who wore this sense of humour between hard
blue eyes and an iron jaw. Momma took a passionate dislike to her on the
spot.

"Oh, then you do," said poppa. "You parlay Anglay. That's a good thing
I'm sure, for I know mighty little Fransay. May I ask what sort of
accommodation you can give Mrs. Wick, Miss Wick, and myself for
to-night? Anything on the first floor?"

"What rooms you require are one double one single, yes? Certainly.
Francois, _trente-cinq et trente-huit_." She handed Francois the keys
and her sense of humour disappeared in a smile which told poppa that he
might, if he liked, consider her a fine woman. He, wishing doubtless to
bask in it to the fullest extent, produced his book of tickets.

"I expect you've seen these before," he said, apparently for the
pleasure of continuing the conversation.

[Illustration: "I expect you've seen these before."]

As her eye fell upon them a look of startled cynicism suddenly replaced
the smile. Her cynicism was paradoxical, she was so large, and sound and
wholesome, and the more irritating on this account.

"You 'ave the coupons!" she exclaimed. "Ah-a-ah!" in a crescendo of
astonishment at our duplicity. "Then I 'ave made one mistake. Francois!
Those first floor rooms they are already taken. But on the third floor
are two good beautiful rooms. There is also the lift--you can use the
lift."

"I can't dispute with a lady," said poppa, "but that is singular. I
should prefer those first floor rooms which were not taken until I
mentioned the coupons."

"Sare!"

The lady's eye was unflinching, and poppa quailed. He looked ashamed, as
if he had been caught in telling a story. They made a picture, as he
stood there pulling his beard, of American chivalry and Gallic guile,
which was almost pathetic.

"Well," said he, "as it's necessary that Mrs. Wick should lie down as
soon as possible you might show us those third floor rooms."

Then he recovered his dignity and glanced at Madame more in sorrow than
in anger. "Certainly, sare," she said se