Monsieur's comfort must be preserved: that seemed to be the issue in which, at once, all were united.

"M'sieur will pardon the boy," apologised Charles in deepest humility, taking much for granted.

"It will be very warm to-day.

Your _serviette_, M'sieur--it is damp.
Pardon!" He flew away and back with another napkin.

"Of course, M'sieur, the Chatham is not the Waldorf," he announced deprecatingly.
"_Parbleu_," beating himself on the forehead, "I forgot! M'sieur does not like the Waldorf.