“Now that is really nice of the little man, I say,” added Mr. Fabian, as he handed the message to his wife.
“Then you’d better wire him at once, for we plan to go tomorrow,” advised Mrs. Fabian.
Everything had been attended to in London, and the girls took a farewell look at the city as they sped away to Dover where they expected to take the Channel Boat for Havre.
Much has been said about the rough crossing of this little strip of water, but the girls found it as quiet as a mill-pond, and the steamer skimmed the waves like a sea-gull. The ride in the dusty train, from Havre to Paris, was the most unpleasant part of the trip. But upon leaving the train at Paris, they saw Dodo and her father anxiously scanning the faces that passed by.
“Here we are, Dodo!” called Polly, eagerly, as she jumped forward and caught her friend’s hand.
“Dear me! I’m as glad to see you-all as I can be,” cried Dodo, shaking everyone eagerly by the hand.
“Yeh, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” remarked her father.
“We’ve only been in Paris a day and night, but Pa hasn’t any French with him, and I’ve only got a few words that I am always using mistakenly, so we’re happy to have someone who can speak and understand the lingo” laughed Dodo, happily.
They all got into the luxurious car that had carried them so many miles over England, and as they sank down upon the soft cushions, Polly said: “An automobile really is nicer than a hard old steam-tram.”
Mrs. Fabian, always polite, asked: “How is your mother, Dodo?”