I interrupted him by declaring that I had supped heartily and did not
want for anything in the world, and then, with some sort of an
inarticulate excuse, he left me. I knew very well that this nervously
correct personage had jumped up from his dinner in order that he might
meet me at the door and thus prevent my unconventional attire from
shocking any of the servants.

It was very quiet and pleasant on the piazza, but, although I could
hear that a great deal of talking was going on inside, no words came
to me. In a short time, however, a man-servant in livery came out
upon the piazza and approached me with a tray on which were a cup of
coffee and some cigars. I could not refrain from smiling as I saw the
man.

"The old fellow has been forced to conquer his prejudices," I said to
myself, "and to submit to the mortification of allowing me to be seen
by his butler!"

I think, however, that even had the master been regarding us he would
have seen no reason for mortification in the manner of his servant.
The man was extremely polite and attentive, suggesting various
refreshments, such as wine and biscuits, and I never was treated by a
lackey with more respect.

Leaning back in a comfortable chair, I sipped my coffee and puffed
away at a perfectly delightful Havana cigar. "Cathay is not a bad
place," said I, to myself. "Its hospitality is a little queer, but as
to gorgeousness, luxury, and----" I was about to add another quality
when my mind was diverted by a light step on the piazza, and, turning