rously.
"I never eat more than one thing. I think people eat far too much nowadays. A little fish， perhaps. I wonder if they have any salmon.
Well， it was early in the year for salmon and it was not on the bill of fare， but I asked the waiter if there was any. Yes， a beautiful salmon had just come in， it was the first they had had. I ordered it for my guest. The waiter asked her if she would have something while it was being cooked.
"No，" she answered， "I never eat more than one thing. Unless you have a little caviare. I never mind caviare."
My heart sank a little. I knew I could not afford caviare， but I could not very well tell her that. I told the waiter by all means to bring caviare. For myself I chose the cheapest dish on the menu and that was a mutton chop.
" I think you are unwise to eat meat，" she said. " I don't know how you can expect to work after eating heavy things like chops. I don't believe in overloading my stomach."
Then came the question of drink.
"I never drink anything for luncheon，" she said.
"Neither do I，" I answered promptly.
"Except whiter wine，" she proceeded as though I had not spoken. "These French white wines are so light. They're wonderful for the digestion."
"What would you like？" I asked， hospitable still， but not exactly effusive.
She gave me a bright and amicable flash of her white teeth.
"My doctor won't let me drink anything but champagne."
I fancy I turned a trifle pale. I ordered half a bottle. I mentioned casually that my doctor had absolutely forbidden me to drink champagne.
"What are you going to drink， then？"
"Water."
She ate the caviare and she ate the salmon. She talked gaily of art and literature and music. But I wondered what the bill would come to. When my mutton chop arrived she took me quite seriously to task.
"I see that you're in the habit of eating a heavy luncheon. I'm sure it's a mistake. Why don't you follow my example and just eat one thing？ I'm sure you'd feel ever so much better for it."
"I am only going to eat one thing." I said， as the waiter came again with the bill of fare.
She waved him aside with an airy gesture.
"No， no， I never eat anything for luncheon. Just a bite， I never want more than that， and I eat that more as an excuse for conversation than anything else. I couldn't possibly eat anything more unless they had some of those giant asparagus. I should be sorry to leave Paris without having some of them."
My heart sank. I had seen them in the shops， and I knew that they were horribly expensive. My mou
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