Each girl, in addition to irreproachable recommendations and the written consent of her parents, must pay seventy francs a month, bring a specified amount of underclothing, etc.; and, whatever her age or education, must, come prepared to submit to the discipline of the school.  In return they were to be taught not only how to fill all positions in a hotel, but the scientific principles of domestic economy, properties of food combined with the proportions necessary to health, bookkeeping, English, correspondence, geography, arithmetic—­“calcul rapide”—­gymnastics, deportment, hygiene.

Moreover, when at the end of the three months’ course they had taken their diplomas, places would be found for them.  If they failed to take their diplomas and could not afford another course, still would places, but of an inferior order, be provided.  After the first students arrived it became known that an ex-pupil without place and without money could always find a temporary refuge there.  Even if she had “gone wrong” she might come and ask for advice and help.

IV

When I arrived in Paris I had two letters to Mlle. Thompson and after I had been there about ten days I went with Mr. Jaccaci to call on her at the offices of La Vie Feminine, and found them both sumptuous and a hive of activities.  In the course of the rapid give-and-take conversation—­if it can be called that when one sits tight with the grim intention of pinning Mlle. Thompson to one subject long enough to extract definite information from her—­we discovered that she had translated one of my books.  Neither of us could remember which it was, although I had a dim visualization of the correspondence, but it formed an immediate bond.  Moreover—­another point I had quite forgotten—­when her friend, Madame Leverriere, had visited the United States some time previously to put Mlle. Thompson’s dolls on the market, I had been asked to write something in favor of the work for the New York Times.  Madame Leverriere, who was present, informed me enthusiastically that I had helped her enormement, and there was another bond.

The immediate consequence was that, although I could get little that was coherent from Mlle. Thompson’s torrent of classic French, I was invited to be an inmate of the Ecole Hoteliere at Passy.  I had mentioned that although I was comfortable at the luxurious Hotel de Crillon, still when I went upstairs and closed my door I was in the atmosphere of two years ago.  And I must have constant atmosphere, for my time was limited.  I abominated pensions, and from what I had heard of French families who took in a “paying guest,” or, in their tongue, dame pensionnaire, I had concluded that the total renouncement of atmosphere was the lesser evil.

Would I go out and see the Ecole Feminine?  I would.  It sounded interesting and a visit committed me to nothing.  Mlle. Thompson put it charmingly.  I should be conferring a favor.  There was a guest chamber and no guest for the pupils to practice on.  And it would be an honor, etc.