They rose to their feet, but before they had gone many steps (the meals of this amiable family were now served in an adjoining room), the young man stopped his companion. "I can't tell you how kind I think it—the way you treat me, and how I am touched by your confidence. You take me just as I am, with no recommendation beyond my own word."
"Well, Mr. Probert, if we didn't like you we wouldn't smile on you. Recommendations in that case wouldn't be any good. And since we do like you there ain't any call for them either. I trust my daughters; if I didn't I'd have stayed at home. And if I trust them, and they trust you, it's the same as if I trusted you, ain't it?"
"I guess it is!" said Gaston, smiling.
His companion laid his hand on the door but he paused a moment. "Now are you very sure?"
"I thought I was, but you make me nervous."
"Because there was a gentleman here last year—I'd have put my money on him."
"A gentleman—last year?"
"Mr. Flack. You met him surely. A very fine man. I thought she favoured him."
"Seigneur Dieu!" Gaston Probert murmured, under his breath.
Mr. Dosson had opened the door, he made his companion pass into the little dining-room, where the table was spread for the noon-day breakfast. "Where are the chickens?" he inquired, disap-
