Their hotel was in the Place Vendome, and the drive there from the station was not through the beautiful boulevards, but through some narrow and not particularly clean streets.
But when they rolled into the Rue de la Paix and drove toward the Place
Vendome, the girls began to think that Paris was beautiful, after all.
It was rather more than dusk, but not dark, and the great square, with its circumference of colonnaded buildings, and the wonderful column in the centre, was exceedingly impressive, and filled Patty's soul with a rapturous awe.
"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.