"Well, well, Mary!" exclaimed Madame.

I saw that my exclamation had not offended her, for she had smiled.

"M. Xavier is like all young people," she said to me. " He is not very orderly. You must be orderly for him; and his room must be perfectly kept. You will enter the room every morning at nine o'clock; you will bring him his tea; at nine o'clock, you understand, Mary? Sometimes M. Xavier comes home late. Perhaps he will not receive you well in the morning, but that makes no difference. A young man should be awakened at nine o'clock."

She showed me where M. Xavier kept his linen, his cravats, his shoes, accompanying each detail with some remark like this:

"My son is a little sharp, but he is a charming child."

Or else:

"Do you know how to fold pantaloons? Oh! M. Xavier is especially particular about his pantaloons."

As for the hats, it was agreed that I need pay no attention to them, the glory of their daily ironing belonging to the valet de chambre.

I found it extremely odd that, in a house where there was a valet de chambre, Madame should select me to serve M. Xavier.

"It is funny, but perhaps it is not very