The little maid who looked busily after the varied wants of the customers
stood in front of them to receive Arthur's order. She was a hard-visaged
creature of mature age, but she looked neat in her black dress and white
cap; and she had a motherly way of attending to these people, with a
capacious smile of her large mouth which was full of charm.

'I don't mind what I eat,' said Arthur. 'Let Margaret order my dinner for
me.'

'It would have been just as good if I had ordered it,' laughed Susie.

They began a lively discussion with Marie as to the merits of the various
dishes, and it was only interrupted by Warren's hilarious expostulations.

'Marie, I precipitate myself at your feet, and beg you to bring me a
_poule au riz_.'

'Oh, but give me one moment, _monsieur_,' said the maid.

'Do not pay any attention to that gentleman. His morals are detestable,
and he only seeks to lead you from the narrow path of virtue.'

Arthur protested that on the contrary the passion of hunger occupied at
that moment his heart to the exclusion of all others.

'Marie, you no longer love me,' cried Warren. 'There was a time when you
did not look so coldly upon me when I ordered a bottle of white wine.'

The rest of the party took up his complaint, and all besought her not to
show too hard a heart to the bald and rubicund painter.