"Oh, Elise," she cried, grasping her companion's hand; "I never supposed Paris would be like this! I thought it would be bright and gay and festive; but instead of that, it's grand and solemn and awe-inspiring."
"So it is, here," said Elise; "but there is plenty of brightness and gaiety in some parts of the city, I expect. Of course, this is historic ground, and I suppose it was pretty much as it is now in the days when they were building French history. That's Napoleon on top of that statue, though you can't recognise him from here. You know about the column, of course. It's been overthrown and rebuilt three or four times."
"Yes, I remember studying about it in French history. It was torn down at the time of the Commune, and later re-erected from the fragments. But you know when you study those dry facts they don't seem to mean anything; but to be here, really in Paris, looking at that wonderful column, in this dusky light, and the stars just beginning to show—oh, Elise, it's more like fairy tales than history!"
"I love it, too," said Elise; "and I'm so glad to be here with you. Oh,Patty, we are going to have a beautiful time!"
"Well, I rather guess we are!" said Patty, with true Yankee enthusiasm.
Then their cabs drove in at the arched entrance of the Hotel Ritz, and a most important looking personage in blue uniform assisted them to alight. Other attendants in unostentatious livery swung open the glass doors and our party entered. The proprietor, who advanced to meet them, was a courtly, polite Frenchman, in correct evening dress, whose suave and deferential manner was truly typical of his race. He seemed to take a personal interest in his newly arrived guests, and himself conducted them to their apartments.
Patty followed with the rest, feeling almost like pinching herself to see if she were awake or in an enchanted dream. The hotel was particularly beautiful, and the furnishings unlike any she had ever seen before. Carpets, furniture, and decorations were all in the palest tints of lovely colours. Doors and windows and many of the partitioned walls were of glass, in ornate gilt frames, through which one could see fascinating rooms beyond. A few choice pictures hung on the walls, and here and there were French cabinets of curios and rare laces.
The elevator seemed to be entirely of glass, and was furnished with dainty white upholstery and gilded woodwork. Bouquets of fresh flowers were here and there on small tables in the rooms and halls.
The suite of rooms allotted to the Farringtons looked out upon the Place Vendome, and Patty flew to the window to gaze again upon the beautiful scene.
The rooms were daintily furnished with the same exquisite taste that prevailed throughout the house. Lace curtains framed the deep-seated windows, an Empire clock and candelabra graced the carved mantel, and the furniture was rich and abundant.
"I don't think," said Patty, "that I ever saw a more beautiful palace.And I'm so glad I'm here I don't know what to do! Just think of it,Elise, we'll live here in this lovely room for a fortnight anyway!"
"It is lovely," said Elise; "but I expect we'll get tired of hotel life and be glad to have a home of our own."
"Very likely," said Patty, with a little sigh of content; "but I shall be perfectly happy wherever we are."
"I believe you will, Patty," said Elise, laughing; "you love this beautiful place, but if it hadn't been half as pretty, you would have made just as much fuss over it."
"I know it," said Patty, rather apologetically; "but I can't help it, Elise. I seem to be made that way. When I like anything, you know, I enjoy it just as much as I possibly can, and that's all I can do, anyway."
The room which the two girls were to share was a large double-bedded apartment, with dressing rooms and bath adjoining. It was perfect in every detail of comfort and luxury as well as beauty, but when Lisette came in to assist the girls in dressing for dinner she found them both hanging out of the front windows gazing at the Vendome Column.
However, they expressed themselves as quite ready to prepare for dinner, and after doning pretty light costumes, they joined Mr. and Mrs. Farrington, and went down to the dining-room.
The dining-room proper of the hotel was an indoor apartment, but all through the summer the guests were accustomed to dine under the open sky, at small tables in the garden.
Owing to an unusually late season, it was still warm enough to dine outside, and when Patty saw the scene in the garden she thought Paris was fairyland indeed. Though called a garden, it was really a stone-paved court, but all round its edge on two sides were large old trees with gnarled and twisted trunks and thick foliage of glossy green. Under the trees were flower-beds full of blossoming plants, and in the branches of the trees themselves were hung vari-coloured globes of electric lights about the size of an orange. The effect of these brilliant spheres in the dark trees was as beautiful as it was unusual, and the scene was further made bright by arches and festoons of brilliant coloured lights, which crossed and twined above their heads in every direction. At the end of the garden was an immense fountain surrounded by statues, and playing many jets of water, which flashed and sparkled in the light.
Around two sides of the garden ran the verandas of the hotel, and the diners could sit on these verandas or out in the open, as they preferred.
The gay scene was completed by the throngs of people; the French women in their dainty costumes, the French men with their correct garb and demeanour, as well as a good sprinkling of strangers from other countries.
So interested was Patty in looking at it all that she declared she didn't want a thing to eat. But when the choice selections of French cookery were placed before her, she changed her mind and did full justice to the repast.
After dinner they sat for a short time in the drawing-room, and then Mr. Farrington declared they must all go to rest, as he had planned a busy day for them on the morrow.
They rose next morning to find a perfect autumn day awaiting them. ToPatty's surprise, dainty breakfast trays were brought to their bedsides.
"It is the custom of the country," Elise explained; "nobody ever goes downstairs to breakfast in Paris."
"It's a custom that suits me well enough—at least, what there is of it. I'm free to confess that this rather smallish cup of chocolate and two not very large rolls and a tiny bit of butter do not seem to me all that a healthy appetite can desire."
"I'm afraid you're an incorrigible American," said Elise, laughing. "Now, this little spread is ample for me, but I dare say you can have more if you want it."
"No indeed," said Patty; "when I'm in Paris, I'll do as the Romans do, even if I starve."
But Patty didn't starve, for it was not long before Mr. Farrington sent word that the girls were to come downstairs as soon as possible, equipped for a drive.
But before the drive he insisted that they should eat a good and substantial breakfast, as he wanted them to put in a long morning sightseeing.
Mrs. Farrington had concluded not to go with them, as she was resting after her journey, and, moreover, the sights were not such a novelty to her as they would be to the young people.
So when they were all ready to start they found an automobile at the door, waiting for them.
"This is the most comfortable way to see Paris," said Mr. Farrington as they got in. "I have taken this car for a week on trial, and if it proves satisfactory we can keep it all winter."
A chauffeur drove the car, and Mr. Farrington sat in the tonneau between the two girls, that he might point out to them the places of interest.
If Patty had thought Paris beautiful by night she thought it even more so in the clear, bright sunshine. There is no sunshine in the world quite so clearly bright as that of Paris, or at least it seems so.
"I want you to get the principal locations fixed in your minds," said Mr. Farrington, "so now, as you see, we are starting from the Place Vendome, going straight down the short Rue Castiglione to the Rue de Rivoli. Now, we have reached the corner, and we turn into the Rue de Rivoli. This is a beautiful street, crowded with shops on one side, and on the other side at this point you see the garden of the Tuileries. We turn to the right and go directly to the Place de la Concorde. As we reach it you may see to the right, up through the Rue Royale, the Church of the Madeleine. That is one of the most beautiful of the Paris churches, and you shall visit it, of course, but not now. To-day I want you to get merely a birdseye view, a sort of general idea of locations. But here we are in the Place de la Concorde. The Obelisk, which you see in the centre, was brought from Egypt many years ago. It is very like our own Obelisk in Central Park, and also Cleopatra's needle in London. From here we turn into one of the most beautiful avenues in the world, the Champs Elysees. This avenue extends from the Place de la Concorde to the Arc de Triomphe. Viewing it as we do now, rolling along this perfect road in a motor car—or automobile, as we must learn to call it while in France—you are taking, no doubt, one of the most perfect rides in the world. The full name of the arch is Arc de Triomphe de l'Etoile. This means a star, and it is called thus because it is a centre from which radiate no less than a dozen beautiful avenues. We will drive slowly round the arch, that you may see its general beauty, but we will not now stop to examine it closely."
"It is so different," exclaimed Patty, "to see these things in reality, or to study about them in history. I've seen pictures of this arch lots of times, but it never seemed before as if it were a real thing. Isn't it beautiful! I think I could spend a whole day looking at it."
Patty's love of the beautiful was intuitive and all embracing. She knew little of architecture or sculpture technically, but the sublime majesty and imposing grandeur of the noble arch impressed her, as it does all true beauty lovers.
"The continuation of the Champs Elysees beyond the arch," went on Mr.Farrington, "changes its name and becomes the Avenue de la Grand Armee.But we will not continue along that way at present, but take the nextavenue to the left, which is the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne."
"Why, I thought that was a forest," said Patty; "is it a street?"
"It's an avenue," replied Mr. Farrington, "and it leads to the forest, or rather park, which is called the Bois de Boulogne. We can take only a short drive into the park, but you may see a few of the beautiful chateaus, which are the homes of the wealthy or aristocratic French people. You will not meet many equipages at this hour in the morning, but late in the afternoon there is a continuous stream of fine turnouts of all sorts. There are many, many places of interest in the Bois, but as we have all winter in which to visit them, we will content ourselves to-day with a brief visit."
"It begins to look," said Patty, "as if even a whole winter would be all too short to see the beauties and glories of this wonderful Paris."
"Indeed, it would be too short to see everything of interest, but I can assure you, my child, that with an automobile and some idea of systematic sightseeing we can do a great deal even in one winter."
Mr. Farrington pointed out various prominent buildings as they passed them, and then, turning round, went back to the city. A swift ride about Paris showed to the girls such interesting places as the Louvre, and the Hotel de Ville, the Place de la Bastile, the Hotel des Invalides, the Pantheon, and the Church of Notre-Dame.
At the last named Mr. Farrington proposed that they get out and make a short visit to the cathedral.
They did so, and both Patty and Elise were much impressed by the noble beauty of the interior.
As they passed around the church Patty noticed a little Frenchwoman, who seemed to be selling candles. The candles were of an unusual type-long, slender and very tapering. It occurred to Patty that she would like to take some home to Nan, as they would be most effective in an odd brass candlestick which was one of Nan's chief treasures. The candlestick had seven branches, and as her French seemed to desert her at the critical moment, Patty indicated her wants by holding up seven fingers, pointing to the candles and then taking out her purse.
The Frenchwoman seemed to understand, and began counting out seven candles. Patty looked anxiously after Mr. Farrington and Elise, who had gone on ahead, not noticing that Patty had stopped. But she knew she could soon catch up to them if only she could get her candles and manage to pay for them in the confusing and unfamiliar French money. As she was counting out the change, greatly to her surprise, the Frenchwoman lighted her seven candles, one after the other. Patty exclaimed in dismay, wondering if she did it to test their wicks, or what could be the reason. But even as she watched her the woman placed the candles, all seven of them, in a sort of a branched candlestick on the wall above her head.
"Non! Non!" cried Patty; "they are MINE, MINE! comprenez-vous? Mine!"
"Oui, oui, oui," exclaimed the Frenchwoman, nodding her head complacently, and taking Patty's money, which she put in a box on the table before her.
"But I want them!" cried Patty. "I want to take them away with me!"
Still the woman smiled amiably, and Patty realised she was not understanding a word. But all Patty's French, and it was not very much at best, seemed to fly out of her head and she could not even think how to say, "I wish to take them away with me." So seeing nothing else to do, she cut the Gordian knot of her dilemma by reaching up and taking the candles from the sockets. She blew them out, and holding them in a bundle, said pleasantly, "Papier?" having thought of a French word at last that expressed what she wished.
The woman looked at her in amazement, as if she had done something wrong, and poor Patty was thoroughly perplexed.
"Why, I bought them," she exclaimed, forgetting the Frenchwoman could not understand her, "and I paid you for them, and now they're mine, And I'm going to take them away. If you won't give me any paper to wrap them in, I'll carry them as they are. Eon jour!"
But by this time Mr. Farrington and Elise had returned in search of their missing comrade, and Patty appealed to Mr. Farrington, explaining that she had purchased the candles.
"Why, yes, they're yours, child, and certainly you may take them away if you like. But it is not customary; usually people buy the candles to burn at the shrine of their patron saint, or in memory of some friend, and, of course, the woman supposed that was your intention."
"Well, I'm glad to understand it," said Patty, "and I wish you'd please explain it to her, for I certainly do want to keep the candles, and I couldn't make her understand."
So Mr. Farrington explained the state of the case in French that the woman could understand, and all was well, and Patty walked off in triumph with her candles.
Then they went back past the Louvre, and leaving the automobile again, they went for a short walk in the garden of the Tuileries. This also fascinated Patty, and she thought it beautiful beyond all words.
After that Mr. Farrington declared that the girls must be exhausted, and he took them to a delightful cafe, where he refreshed them with ices and small cakes.
"Now," he said, "I don't suppose the Eternal Feminine in your nature will be satisfied without doing a little shopping. The large shops—the Bon Marche and the Magasin du Louvre—are very like our own department stores, and if you choose you may go there at some other time with Mrs. Farrington or Lisette, for I confess my ignorance of feminine furbelows. But I will take you to one or two interesting shops on the Rue de Rivoli, and then if we have time to a few in the Avenue de l'Opera."
Their first stop was at a picture shop, and Patty nearly went wild over the beautiful photographs and water colours. She wanted to purchase several, but Mr. Farrington advised her to wait until later, when she should perhaps be better able to judge what she really wanted.
"For you see," he said, "after you have been to the Louvre and other great galleries, and have made favourites, as you will, among the pictures there, you will then be able to collect your photographs more intelligently."
Patty was quite ready to abide by this advice, and she and Elise enjoyed looking over the pictures and anticipating future purchases.
But though the shops along the Rue de Rivoli were attractive, they were not nearly so splendid as those on the Avenue de l'Opera. Indeed, Mr. Farrington almost regretted having brought the girls there, for they quite forgot all else in their delight in looking at the beautiful wares. They seemed content just to walk along the avenue looking in at the shop windows.
"I don't want to buy anything yet," declared Patty. "Later on I expect to get souvenirs for all of the people at home, and I have any amount of orders to execute for Marian."
"Won't it be fun to do our shopping here?" exclaimed Elise. "I never saw such lovely things, and truly, Patty, the prices marked on them are quite cheap. Much more reasonable than in New York, I think."
"So do I. And oh, Elise, just look at the lovely things in this window! See that lovely pen-wiper, and that dear paper-cutter! Aren't they unusual?"
"Yes," exclaimed Elise, equally rapturous; "I don't wonder, Patty, that people like to shop in Paris. It is truly fascinating. But just wait until we get mother out here with us instead of father. She won't fidget around as if she wanted us to go home before we've fairly started!"
Elise looked reproachfully at her father, who was undeniably fidgeting.
"I'm glad you appreciate the fact," he said, "that I am impatient to get away from these shop windows. Never again will I introduce two young girls into the Parisian shopping district. I've learned my lesson; I'll take you sightseeing, but Mrs. Farrington must take you shopping."
Patty laughed good-naturedly, and expressed her willingness to return at once to the hotel.
One evening, as our party sat in the drawing-room of the hotel, after dinner, some callers' cards were brought to them. The guests proved to be Bert Chester and his three friends, of whom he had told Patty before. The four young men were about to start on a motor tour, and were spending a few days in Paris first.
They were all big stalwart young Englishmen, and when Bert introduced Paul and Philip Marchbanks and Arthur Oram, Patty thought she had never seen more pleasant-looking boys.
"We're jolly glad to be allowed to come to see you," said Phil Marchbanks, addressing Mrs. Farrington, but including them all in his conversation; "we know almost nobody in Paris, and we're so glad to see some friendly faces."
"We may as well own up," said his brother Paul, "that we're just a bit homesick. We're going to have a fine time, of course, after we get started, but it takes a few days to get used to it."
It amused Patty to think of these great, big boys being homesick, but she rather liked their frank admission of it, and she began to ask them questions about their automobile.
The boys had no chauffeur with them, and Arthur Oram drove the car, with occasional assistance from the others. Of course, the boys were enthusiastic regarding their car, and young Oram particularly fell into discussions with Mr. Farrington as to the respective merits of various makes.
"We've done up Paris pretty well," said Bert Chester; "we've only been arrested for speeding once; but that's not surprising, for they let you go about as fast as you like here, and with their marvellously fine roads, it's more like skating than anything else."
"But you only arrived here when we did," said Elise; "how can you have done up Paris so soon?"
"Well, you see," said Bert, "we're not going to write a book about it, so we didn't have to take it all in. We've seen the outside of the Louvre, and the inside of Napoleon's tomb; we've been to the top of the Eiffel tower, and the bottom of the Catacombs; so we flatter ourselves that we've done up the length and breadth and height and depths,—at least to our own satisfaction."
"It's a great mistake," said Phil Marchbanks, "to overdo this sightseeing business. A little goes a great way with me, and if I bolt a whole lot of sights all at once, I find I can't digest them, and I have a sort of attack of tourist's indigestion, which is a thing I hate."
"So do I," agreed Patty, "and I think you do quite right not to attempt too much in a short time. We are taking the winter for it, and Mr. Farrington is going to arrange it all for us, so that I know we'll never have too much or too little. How much longer are you staying here?"
"Only a few days," replied Bert Chester, "and that brings me to our special errand. We thought perhaps—that is, we hoped that may be you might, all of you, agree to go with us to-morrow on a sort of a picnic excursion to Versailles. We thought, do you see, that we could take our car, and you could take yours, and we'd start in the morning and make a whole day of it."
"Gorgeous!" exclaimed Patty, clapping her hands; "I do think that would be delightful, I'd love to go."
"Me too," chimed in Elise; "mother, do say yes, won't you? You know you're just as anxious to go there as we are, because you spoke of it only yesterday."
"Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Farrington heartily; "I quite approve of the plan, and if your father has no objection, we can make a charming picnic of it."
Mr. Farrington was quite as interested in the project as the others, and they immediately began to arrange the details of the expedition. Bert Chester had a road map in his pocket, which showed exactly the routes they could take, but the decision of these things was left to Mr. Farrington and Arthur Oram, who put their heads together over the complicated-looking charts and decided upon their way.
"Do you know," said Paul Marchbanks, "you're the first American girls I have ever known socially? I've seen tourists in railway stations or restaurants, but I never talked to any Americans before."
"For goodness' sake!" exclaimed Patty, "have they kept you walled up in a dungeon tower all your life, or what?"
"Not exactly that; but we English fellows who go to school and then to college, and meantime live in our country homes, with an occasional run up to London, have almost no opportunity to meet anybody outside of our own people. And I haven't jogged about as much as a good many fellows. This is the first time I've been to Paris."
"Then that explains your homesickness," said Patty, smiling kindly at the big boy, whose manner was so frank and ingenuous.
"Yes," he said; "I suppose I do miss the family, for they ARE a jolly lot. Oh, I say, won't you people all come down to our place and see us? You're going to England, of course, before you return to the States, aren't you?"
"I don't know," said Elise, smiling; "our plans are uncertain. But if we accept all the delightful invitations we're continually receiving, I don't know when we ever shall get back to New York."
The next day proved to be a most perfect one for an excursion of any sort. They started early, for they wanted to make a long, full day of it, and return in time for dinner.
The two automobiles were at the door by nine o'clock, and the party was soon embarked. As Mr. Farrington did not drive his own car, he went in the other car, sitting in front with Arthur Orara. In the tonneau of this car were Patty and Bert Chester. So in the other car rode Mrs. Farrington and Elise and the two Marchbanks. This arrangement seemed highly satisfactory to all concerned, and the procession of two cars started off gaily. Away they sped at a rapid speed along the Champs Elysees, through the Arch and away toward Versailles. The fresh, crisp morning air, the clear blue sky, and the bright sunlight, added to the exhilaration of the swift motion, endowed them all with the most buoyant spirits, and Patty felt sure she had never looked forward to a merrier, happier day.
She chatted with Bert Chester, and asked him many questions about the trip on which he was starting.
"I don't know just where we are going," he said. "I leave all that to Oram. The rest of us don't care, and Oram loves to spend hours hunting up reasons why we should go to this small village that is picturesque, or that tiny hamlet that is historic. I'm sure the queer little French towns will all look alike to me, and I'm not awfully keen about such things anyhow. I go for the out-door life, and the swift motion, and the fresh air and all that sort of thing."
"I love that part of it, too," said Patty, "but also I like seeing the funny little towns with their narrow streets and squealing dogs. I think I have never been through a French village that wasn't just spilling over with squealing dogs."
"That's because you always go through them in an automobile. If you were on a walking tour now, you'd find the dogs all asleep. But the paramount idea in a French dog's brain is that he was made for the purpose of waking up and barking at motor cars."
"Well, they're most faithful to what they consider their duty, then," said Patty, laughing, for even as she spoke they were whizzing through a straggling, insignificant little village, and dogs of all sizes and colours seemed to spring up suddenly from nowhere at all, and act as if about to devour the car and its occupants.
But notwithstanding the dogs, the villages were exceedingly picturesque, and Patty loved to drive through them slowly, that she might see glimpses of the life of the people. And it was almost always necessary to go slowly, for the streets were so narrow, and the sidewalks a mere shelf, so that pedestrians often walked in the road. This made it difficult to drive rapidly, and, moreover, many of the streets were steep and hilly.
"It never seems to matter," observed Patty, "whether you're going out of Paris or coming in; it's always uphill, and never down. I think that after you've climbed a hill, they whisk it around the other way, so that you're obliged to climb it again on your return."
"Of course they do," agreed Bert; "you can see by the expression of the people that they're chuckling at us now, and they'll chuckle again when we pass this way to-night, still climbing."
Neither of the cars in which our party travelled were good hill-climbers, although they could go fast enough on the level. But nobody cared, and notwithstanding some delays, the ground was rapidly covered.
"There's one town I want to go through," said Patty, "but I'm not sure it's in our route. It's called Noisy-le-Roi. Of course, I know that, really, Noisy is not pronounced in the English fashion, but I like to think that it is, and I call it so myself."
"There's no harm in that; I suppose a free-born American citizen has a right to pronounce French any way she chooses, and I like that way myself. Noisy-le-Roi sounds like an abode of the Mad Monarch, and you expect to see the king and all his courtiers and subjects dancing madly around or playing hilarious games."
"Yes, a sort of general racket, with everybody waving garlands and carrying wreaths, and flags floating and streamers streaming—-"
"Yes, and cannon booming, and salutes being fired, and rockets and fireworks going off like mad."
"Yes, just that! but now I almost hope we won't pass through it, for fear it shouldn't quite come up to our notion of it."
"If we do come to it, I'll tell you in time, and you can shut your eyes and pretend you're asleep while we go through."
But the town in question was not on their route after all, and soon they came flying in to the town of Versailles. Of course, they made for the Chateau at once, and alighted from the cars just outside the great wall.
Patty, being unaccustomed to historic sites, was deeply impressed as she walked up the old steps and found herself on an immense paved court that seemed to be fairly flooded with the brightest sunlight she had ever seen. As a rule, Mr. Farrington did not enjoy the services of a guide, but for the benefit of the young people in his charge, he engaged one to describe to them the sights they were to see.
The whole royal courtyard and the great Equestrian Statue of Louis XIV. seemed very wonderful to Patty, and she could scarcely realise that the great French monarch himself had often stood where she was now standing.
"I never seemed to think of Louis XIV.," she said, "as a man. He seems to me always like a set of furniture, or a wall decoration, or at most a costume."
"Now you've hit it," said Paul; "Louis XIV. was, at most, a costume; and a right-down handsome costume, too. I wish we fellows could dress like that nowadays."
"I wish so, too," said Elise; "it's a heap more picturesque than the clothes men wear at the present day."
"I begin to feel," said Patty, "that I wish I had studied my French history harder. How many kings lived here after Louis XIV.?"
"Two," replied Mr. Farrington, "and when, Patty, at one o'clock on the sixth of October, 1789, the line of carriages drove Louis XVI. and his family away from here to Paris, the Chateau was left vacant and has never since been occupied."
"In October," said Patty, "and probably just such a blue and gold day as this! Oh, how they must have felt!"
"I wouldn't weep over it now, Patty," said the matter-of-fact Elise; "they've been gone so long, and so many people have wept for them, that I think it wasted emotion."
"I believe it would be," said Patty, smiling, "as far as they're concerned; but I can't help feeling sorry for them, only I could never weep before, because I never realised what it was they were leaving."
The party went on into the Chateau, and visited rooms and apartments one after the other. It was necessary to do this quickly if they were to do it at all, and, as Mr. Farrington said, a hasty tour of the palace would give them an idea of it as a whole, and sometime he would bring the girls again to enjoy the details more at leisure.
Patty was discovering that she was susceptible to what Elise chose to call wasted emotion, and she found herself again on the verge of tears when they entered the Chapel. Though she did not know enough of architecture to survey intelligently the somewhat pompous apartment, she was delightfully impressed by the rich adornments and the wonderful sculptures, bronzes and paintings.
Rather rapidly they passed through the various SALONS of the museum, pausing here and there, as one or another of the party wished to examine something in particular. The State Rooms and Royal Apartments were most interesting, but Patty concluded that she liked best of all the Gallery of Battles. The splendid pictures of war enthralled her, and she would have been glad had the rest of the party left her to spend the entire day alone in the great gallery.
But this, of course, they had no wish to do, and with a last lingering glance at the picture of Napoleon at the battle of Jena, she reluctantly allowed herself to be led away.
Napoleon was one of Patty's heroes, and she was eagerly interested in all of the many relics and souvenirs of the great man.
Especially was she interested in his bedroom, and greatly admired the gorgeous furnishings and quaint, old-fashioned French bedstead.
Having scurried through the palace and museum, Mr. Farrington declared that he could do no more sightseeing until he had eaten some sustaining luncheon.
So again they climbed into the automobiles and were whisked away to a hotel in the town.
Here they were provided with a most satisfying meal, which was partaken of amid much merry conversation and laughter.
The afternoon was devoted to the gardens and the Trianons.
Elise was enraptured with the garden, but Patty, while she admired them very much, thought them too stiff and formal for her taste. Laid out, as they are, according to the laws of geometrical symmetry, it seemed to Patty that grace and beauty were sacrificed to squares and straight lines.
But none the less was she interested in the wonderful landscape, and amazed that any grass could be so green as that of the marvelous green carpet. The multitude of statues and fountains, the walks and terraces, and the exquisite colours of the autumn trees, made a picture that Patty never forgot.
The Trianons presented new delights, and Patty fancied herself transported back to the days of Marie Antoinette and her elaborately planned pleasures.
A place of especial interest was the carriage house, where are exhibited the Royal State carriages.
As they were about to enter, Phil Marchbanks, who was ahead, turned round with a look of comical dismay on his face.
"We can't go in," he said; "we can't fulfil their requirements!"
"What do you mean?" said Patty.
"Why here's a sign that says 'wet umbrellas must be left in the cloak room.' You see, it's imperative,—and as we have no wet umbrellas to leave in the cloak room, whatever shall we do?"
"Isn't it awful!" said Patty. "Of course, we can't go in if we don't fulfil their laws. But it's a foolish law, and better broken than kept, so I propose we march on in spite of it."
So they marched on and spent one of their pleasantest half hours admiring the royal coaches.
The Coronation Carriage of Charles the X. pleased Patty most, especially as it had been restored by Napoleon and bore the magic initial N. on its regalia.
Mr. Farrington slyly volunteered the information that it stood forNapoleon the Third, but Patty declared that she didn't care, as anyNapoleon was good enough for her.
Then the various sights of the Trianons claimed their attention, and they visited the farm and the dairy, and the Temple of Love, and the Swiss Cottage, and the Presbytery, and the Music Pavilion, and the Mill, until they were all mixed up, and Patty declared that her mind was nothing but a kaleidoscope full of broken bits of gay scenes.
Then the party went to the Grotto of Apollo, and sat down there for a short time to rest before returning home.
"This is the first time," said Patty, "that it has seemed like a picnic, but this is a real picnic place,—though a much more grand one than I ever picnicked in before."
"You can probably make up your mind," said Bert, "that it's about the grandest picnic place there is; and speaking of picnics, I'd like to invite all this party to dine with me on our way home."
"Where is your dining-room?" asked Mrs. Farrington.
"I'll show you," said Bert eagerly, "if you'll only go with me. It isn't quite time to start yet, but it soon will be, and I'll take you to an awfully jolly place and not a bit out of our way, either."
Mrs. Farrington agreed to go, and the rest eagerly accepted the invitation, and after resting a little longer, the party leisurely prepared to start.
At Bert's direction they spun along the Bois de Boulogne until they reached the Pavilion d'Armenonville, one of those fairyland out-of-door restaurants which abound in and near Paris.
As it was rather chilly to sit outside, they occupied a table in a glass-protected court, and Bert proved himself a most satisfactory host.
"We've had an awfully jolly day," he observed, "at least I have, and I hope the rest of you put in a good time. It's a satisfaction to feel that we've done up Versailles, but I may as well confess that I didn't go for that purpose so much as to spend a pleasant day with my friends."
Patty declared that she had enjoyed the society, not only of the friends who went with her, but the companionship of the invisible ones, whose presence seemed to haunt every nook and cranny of the palace and park.
As Patty looked about at their gaily decorated dining place, and looked out at the brilliantly lighted scene outside, where the vari-coloured electric lights hung in shining festoons, she came to the conclusion that Paris was a gay and bright place after all, though when she had entered it that first night, less than a week ago, she had thought it rather dark and oppressive.
"It is dark," said Phil, as Patty expressed her thoughts; "to be sure, a place like this is illuminated, but the streets are not half lighted, and I think it's a shame."
"London streets at night aren't much better as to light," said Bert, "but I say, you fellows, you just ought to see the streets in New York at night. Whew! they're so bright they just dazzle you, don't they, Patty?"
"Broadway does, but the other streets aren't so awfully light."
"Well, they're a lot lighter than they are over here. But Paris is the worst of all. Why, I'm scared to be out after nightfall."
"If that's the case," said Mrs. Farrington, laughing, "we'd better be starting now; and at any rate, it's high time my young charges were at home. I hadn't expected Patty and Elise to indulge in quite such grown-up gaieties as dining out here, but I hadn't the heart to refuse for them your kind invitation."
Bert expressed his gratitude that Mrs. Farrington had made an exception in his favour, and then the whole party started homeward.
When she reached there, Patty was so tired she could scarcely talk over the pleasures of the day with Elise, and she tumbled into bed without so much as a look at her beloved Vendome Column.
But the next day found the two girls entirely rested and quite ready for more jaunting about.
But Mrs. Farrington declared that she could do no sightseeing that day, as the somewhat fatiguing trip to Versailles made her quite contented to rest quietly for a time.
So Patty employed her morning happily enough in writing letters home and in arranging her post-card album.
"I'm so glad," she said to Elise, "that Clementine gave me this great big album, for I see already it is none too large. I've taken out all the New York views and laid them aside. I shall probably give them to somebody, as there is no sense in carrying them home again. And I'm filling the book with Paris views. Isn't it fortunate they invented post-cards, for unmounted photographs do curl up so, and I hate those little books of views."
"Indeed, it's fine, Patty, and you're arranging them beautifully. I can't do that sort of thing at all; I'm as clumsy at it as a hippopotamus. But I'd love to have a book like yours to take home."
"I'll give you this one," said Patty quickly, and she truly meant it, for she was generous by nature, and, too, she was glad to give Elise something that she really wanted.
"I wouldn't take it! you needn't think I'm a pig if I AM a hippopotamus!"
"Well, I'll tell you what I will do, Elise. The first time we go shopping we'll get a big album exactly like this, and then we'll always get duplicate post-cards,—we have so far, anyway,—and I'll fix both the books."
"Oh, Patty, that will be lovely! you do it so neatly and daintily; and I always tear the corners and smudge the cards and every old thing. I wish we could go and buy the book this very afternoon."
"We can't; your mother won't go; she's too tired, and she'd never let us bob about Paris alone. And your father hates to shop, so he wouldn't take us."
"I know it, Patty, but perhaps mother would let us go with Lisette.Anyhow, I'm going to ask her."
"Why, yes," said Mrs. Farrington, when the project was laid before her; "I see no reason why you shouldn't go out and do a little shopping in charge of Lisette. She is a native French girl herself, she knows Paris thoroughly, and she's most reliable and trustworthy. But you must promise to do only what she allows you to do, and go only where she advises. In this expedition she must direct, not you."
The girls willingly promised, saying that they only wanted to buy the album and a few little things.
"Very well, then," said Mrs. Farrington; "you may go out for the afternoon. I'm glad to have you out in the sunshine, and you'll also enjoy looking at the pretty things in the shops."
So the girls arrayed themselves in their quiet pretty street costumes, and with Lisette in her tidy black gown, they started out.
They walked at first along the Rue de Rivoli, fascinated with the lovely trinkets in the shop windows. Unlike Mr. Farrington, Lisette did not care how long her young charges tarried, nor was she averse to looking at the pretty things herself.
"It's a funny thing," said Elise, as they came out of a shop, "that the things in a window are always so much prettier than the things inside the shop."
"That's Paris all over," said Patty; "I think the French not only put the best foot forward, but the foot they hold back is usually not very presentable."
"Yes, I believe that's true; and they always seem to make the best of everything, and that's why they're so happy and light-hearted. But here we are at a stationer's. Let's buy the album here."
The stationer's proved to be a most distracting place. They bought the album, and then they discovered a counter piled with post-cards, in which they were soon deeply absorbed.
"But you mustn't get so many, Elise," cried Patty, as she looked at the great pile Elise had laid aside to buy. "It's no fun at all to get them all at once and fill the book. Then it's all over. The fun is in collecting them slowly, a few at a time."
"But I want all these, Patty, so why not take them now?"
"No, you don't, either. Now look here, Elise, I'm making your book for you, so you take my advice in this matter, and you'll afterward admit that I'm right."
"You're always right, Patty," said Elise, smiling lovingly at her friend; "that's the worst of you! But I'll do as you say this time, only don't let it occur again."
Patty laughed and allowed Elise to select cards illustrating the places she had already seen, persuading her to leave the others until some future time.
Then they looked round the shop further, and discovered many attractive little souvenirs to take to friends at home.
"I think," said Patty, "I'll just buy some of these things right now.For surely I could never find anything for Frank and Uncle Charliebetter than these queer little desk things. Aren't they unusual, Elise?Are they rococo?"
"Patty," said Elise, in a stage whisper, "I hate to own up to it, but really, I never did know what rococo meant! Isn't it something like cloisonne, or is it ormolu?"
Patty laughed. "To be honest, Elise, I don't exactly know myself, but I don't think you've struck it very closely. However, I'm going to buy this inkstand; I don't care if it's made of gingerbread!"
"And here's a bronze Napoleon; didn't Marian want that?"
"Oh, yes, indeed she did! I'm so glad you discovered him. Isn't he a dear little man? Just about three inches high; I believe the real emperor wasn't much more than that. Isn't he on a funny little flat pedestal?"
"It's a seal," explained the shopkeeper kindly.
"A seal!" echoed Patty blankly; "why no it isn't! a seal, indeed! why it isn't a bit like a seal; you might just as well call it a Teddy Bear! It's a man!"
Elise was giggling. "He doesn't mean that kind of a seal, Patty," she said; "he means a seal to seal wax with."
"Oh," said Patty, giggling, too; "why, so much the better. I beg your pardon, I'm sure, and I'm glad it's a seal. I can have Marian's monogram cut on it, and she can seal her letters by just letting Napoleon jump on them."
She left the order for the monogram, and the affable shopkeeper promised to send the finished seal home the next day. He seemed greatly interested in his two young customers, and had it not been for Lisette's sharp eye he would have urged them to buy even more of his wares.
But the canny young French girl had no notion of letting her charges be imposed upon, and she glared haughtily at the shopkeeper when he seemed too officious.
As they were about to leave the shop, some young people entered, and to the surprise of all, they proved to be the Van Ness girls and their cousins.
The four young people were out by themselves, and though quite capable of finding their way about alone, Lisette's French notions were a trifle shocked at the unchaperoned crowd.
But Patty and Elise were so glad to see their friends again that they gave little thought to conventions, and fell to chattering with all their might.
"Why haven't you been to see us?" asked Alicia; "you had our address."
"I know," said Elise, "but we've been so busy ever since we've been here that there hasn't seemed to be time for anything. But we're glad to see you now, and isn't it jolly that we chanced to meet here?"
"Yes, indeed, because we're going on to-morrow,—on our travels, I mean, and we wouldn't have had a chance to see you again. But now that we have met, let's put in a jolly afternoon together. Where are you going?"
"Nowhere in particular; we're just walking around Paris."
"That's exactly our destination; so let's go nowhere in particular together."
This plan seemed to please everybody except Lisette, who was a little troubled to have her young ladies going around with these Chicago people, of whom she did not quite approve.
But Patty only laughed at the anxious expression on the French girl's face. She knew well what was passing in her mind, and she said to her quietly: "It's all right, Lisette, they're our American friends, and I assure you Mrs. Farrington won't mind a bit, since you are with us. You're dragon enough to chaperon the whole State of Illinois."
It's doubtful if Lisette knew what the State of Illinois was, but she was devoted to Patty, and waved her scruples in deference to Patty's wishes, although she kept a stern watch on the big Van Ness boys.
But Bob and Guy behaved most decorously, and two more polite or well-mannered young men could not have been found among the native Parisians themselves.
Leaving the shop, they continued down the Rue de Rivoli till they reached the Louvre.
Doris proposed their going in, and as Patty was most anxious to do so, and Lisette saw no objection to visiting the great museum, they all entered.
It was Patty's first glimpse of the great picture gallery, and she began to wish she was not accompanied by the chattering crowd, that she might wander about wherever her fancy directed. But she remembered she would have ample opportunity for this all winter, so she willingly gave up her own desire to please the Van Ness girls.
They cared little for pictures, but were really good historical students, and they wanted to visit the rooms which contained curios and relics of famous people.
So the whole crowd followed the lead of Doris and Alicia, who had visited the Louvre before, and Patty found herself learning a great deal from the experienced way in which the girls discussed the exhibits. She found, too, that historical relics were more interesting than she had supposed, and she almost sighed as she thought of the many things she wanted to see and study during the winter.
"I hope you'll be here when we come back," Guy Van Ness said to her, as they stood together, looking at some old miniatures.
"I hope so, too," said Patty. "When are you coming?"
"I don't know exactly; it depends on uncle's plans; but probably aboutJanuary."
"Oh, yes, we shall surely be here then, and probably living in a home of our own. Of course, I mean a temporary home, but not a hotel. I hope you will come to see us."
"Indeed I will. I wish we could have seen more of you this week, but uncle has rushed us about sightseeing so fast that there was no time for social calling."
"We saw Bert Chester and his crowd," said Patty; and then she told about the day at Versailles.
"What a lark!" exclaimed Guy; "I wish I had been along. But you must go somewhere with us when we're here in January, won't you?"
"I'd like to," said Patty, "but I can't promise. It all depends on theFarringtons. I'm their guest, so of course I'm under their orders."
"Well, it won't be my fault if we don't have some fun when we come back here," declared Guy, "and I shall do all I can to bring it about."
When they left the museum it was getting late in the afternoon, and Lisette decreed that her young ladies must go home at once. The Van Ness crowd raised great objection to this, but Lisette was obdurate, and calling a cab, she ushered the girls in, and then getting in herself, gave the order for home.
Patty couldn't help laughing at the serious way in which Lisette took care of them, but Mrs. Farrington told her it was quite right, and she would have been displeased had Lisette done otherwise.
"You don't quite understand, my dear," she said kindly, "the difference between the conventions of Paris and our own New York. It may seem foolish to you to be so carefully guarded, but I can't quite explain it to you so you would understand it, and therefore I'm going to ask you to obey my wishes without question, and more than that, when Lisette is temporarily in charge of you to obey her."
"Indeed I will, dear Mrs. Farrington," said Patty heartily; "and truly I wasn't rebelling the leastest mite. I'm more than ready to obey you, or Lisette, either, only it struck me funny to be put into a cab, like babies in a baby-carriage by their nursemaid."
"You're a good girl, Patty, and I don't foresee a bit of trouble in taking care of you. To-morrow I shall feel better, and I'll go shopping with you girls myself, and perhaps we may have time to look in at a few other places."
So Patty danced away, quite content to take things as they came, and sure that all the coming days were to be filled with all sorts of novelties and pleasures.
Their purchases had been sent home, reaching there before they did themselves, and Patty immediately fell to work on the albums, placing the cards in the little slits which were cut in the leaves to receive them.
The days flew by like Bandersnatches. Patty herself could not realise what became of them. She wrote frequently to the people at home and tried to include all of her young friends in America in her correspondence, but it seemed to be impossible, and so finally she took to writing long letters to Marian, and asking her to send the letters round to the other girls after she had read them.
Mr. and Mrs. Farrington had begun their search for a furnished house which they might rent for the winter. When they went to look at various ones suggested to them by their agent, they did not take the girls with them, as Mrs. Farrington said it was too serious a matter in which to include two chattering children.
So Patty and Elise were left pretty much to their own devices while the elder Farringtons went on these important errands.
But one bright morning when Mr. and Mrs. Farrington were preparing to start off in the automobile for the day, Elise begged that she and Patty might be allowed to go off on an excursion of some sort.
"Indeed, I think you ought," said Mr. Farrington kindly, "and I'll tell you what I think would be a first-rate plan. How would you like to go with Lisette to the Chateau of Chantilly for a day's outing? You could go on one of those 'personally conducted tours,' in a big motor van, with lots of other tourists."
"I think it will be lots of fun," cried Elise; "I've always wanted to climb up on one of those moving mountains and go wabbling away."
"I, too," said Patty; "just for once I think that sort of thing would be great fun."
"Then you must hustle to get ready," said Mr. Farrington, "for the cavalcade sets off at ten o'clock, and I don't believe they'd wait, even for two nice little girls like you. So run along and get your bonnets, and be sure not to forget to remember to feed the carp."
"What is a carp?" asked Patty, as she and Elise ran away to dress.
"Fish, I think," said Elise, "but we'll probably find out when we get there."
The girls were soon ready, and with Lisette they walked out in the bright sunshine and along the Rue de la Paix until they came to the corner where the personally conducted tourists were to start from.
Mr. Farrington had telephoned for tickets, so all they had to do was to clamber into their seats. This was done by mounting a stepladder placed at the side of the big vehicle. The seats of the van were graduated in height, so that the back ones were as good as the front, and, indeed, a full view of what was passing could be commanded from any position.
They had to wait until the tourists had all arrived, and then they started off at a good speed toward the country.
"I feel as if I were riding in one of the old royal state carriages," said Patty, "although there isn't the slightest resemblance in the vehicle, or the means of locomotion."
"No," said Elise, laughing; "nor in the people. I don't believe these tourists bear much resemblance to the ladies and gentlemen who rode in the Royal carriages. But I think it's more fun than our own car, because we sit up so high and can see everything so well."
"And hear, too," said Patty, as they listened to the man in the front seat, who had turned around and was announcing through a megaphone the names of the places as they passed them.
"He seems to know his lesson pretty well," whispered Patty, "but hisFrench pronunciation is even worse than mine."
"Your pronunciation isn't so bad, Patty, but you haven't any vocabulary to speak of."
"To speak with, you mean. But never you mind, miss; as soon as your respected parents decide upon a house, and we get settled in it, I'm going to study French like anything, and French history, too. I used to hate these things, but times have changed since Patty came to Paris!"
"I'm glad you're so energetic, but I don't feel much like studying; I'd rather drift around and have fun as we are doing."
"We'll have time enough for both, and you want to take some painting lessons, don't you?"
"Yes; but seeing all the pictures I've seen since I've been here discourages me. I used to think I was quite an artist, but I see now that if I ever do anything really worth while, I'll have to begin all over again and go into a drudgery drawing class."
"It won't be drudgery; you love it so, and you'll make rapid progress if you're as desperately in earnest as all that. Do you think your mother will decide to take that house they're going to look at to-day?"
"Yes, I think so; her mind is pretty well made up already. It must be a lovely house, judging from what she says about it."
It was not very far to Chantilly, and when they reached there the girls were almost sorry that the pleasant ride was ended.
The megaphone gentleman informed his personally conducted crowd that they were to alight and eat luncheon before proceeding to the Chateau.
The hotel where they were to lunch was a quaint, old-fashioned house, built around three sides of a garden. It was called the Hotel du Grand-Conde, and Patty said, "I suppose we shall see and hear of nothing but the Condes for the rest of the day. I believe the whole interest of Chantilly centres in that Conde crowd."
"You seem to know a lot about it," said Elise banteringly.
"I've been reading up," confessed Patty, "and besides, La Grande Mademoiselle has always been one of my favourite characters in French history. She was a wonderful woman, and though not of the Condes, she is mixed up in their history."
"She is an unknown quantity to me," said Elise, "but I'm willing to learn, so tell me all you know, Patty; it won't take long."
"You'll get no instruction from me after that unflattering speech," retorted Patty, and then luncheon was announced, and the girls sat down at the table reserved for them.
They were much interested in their fellow-tourists, and as most of them were socially inclined, Patty and Elise were included in the general conversation. As the tourists seemed to have a great deal of general information, and as they were quite ready to impart it, the girls picked up quite a store of knowledge, more or less accurate.
Then they left the hotel, with its quaint old gateway and carefully kept gravel walks, and proceeded on their way to the Chateau.
It was necessary at the entrance to cross a bridge over the moat, and here Patty discovered the reason for feeding the carp.
To begin with, the carp themselves were exceedingly old, and had been swimming around in the same moat for hundreds of years.
"I'm not quite sure of the number of years," volunteered a Boston tourist, to any one who might listen, "but it's either hundreds or thousands. Anyway, the carp are dreadfully old."
"They don't look it," declared Patty, as she leaned over the railing of the bridge and watched the frisky fish darting around like mad.
An old woman sat nearby with a bushel basket full of French rolls, which she was willing to sell to the tourists at prices which increased as her stock of rolls decreased. Patty and Elise bought a quantity of the rolls and began the fun of throwing them to the fishes. It turned out to be even more fun than they had anticipated, for the moment a roll reached the water, scores of carp would make a mad dash for it, and a pitched battle ensued for possession of the bread. Sometimes the roll was torn to pieces in the fight, and sometimes a fortunate carp would secure it and swim away, followed by all the others in angry pursuit. Another roll flung in would, of course, divert their attention, and the squabble would begin all over again. The fun was largely in watching the individual peculiarities of the fishes. One sulky old thing disdained to fight, but if given a roll all to himself he would swim away with it, and sticking his head in a small corner of the stone parapet, would eat it greedily, while he kept off the other fishes by madly lashing his tail. Another brisk little fish didn't seem to care to eat the rolls at all, but mischievously tried to prevent the others from eating them, and played a general game of interference.
The actions of the fish were so ridiculous, and the sport so novel and exciting, that the girls would not leave until they had bought up all the rolls the old woman had and thrown them down to the comical carp.
The personal conductor of the tour affably waited until the moat performance was over, and then conducted his party inside the park to the Chateau.
Though only a toy affair compared with Versailles, Chantilly is one of the most beautiful of the historic Chateaus of France, and is in many respects a gem. The great paved Court of Honor shone white in the sunlight, and the noble statues and sculptures bore witness to the art and taste displayed in its construction.