“Think of the Germans burning it in the late war. What good did that do them?” cried the boys indignantly.
“They’re dangerous people, those Germans, always making a smoke,” said Pauline, dismissing the topic at the entrance of the Bois de Boulogne.
For miles the road lay through this beautiful forest, no longer as of old haunted by robbers, but now a fashionable park. It was a lovely drive, one never to be forgotten. Even Weezy and Donald were quiet, too fascinated to speak.
It was late in the afternoon when the Silver Gate tourists arrived in “the most beautiful city in the world.” On all sides were life and gayety. Everywhere as they passed were little tables along the pavement, and people seated around them eating their suppers and chatting in high, good humor. Weezy wondered aloud if they “ever drank tea in their houses?” Captain Bradstreet said, “Yes, when it rained.”
The carriage left our party at an immense hotel, The Continental, which with its six or seven hundred rooms was quite a city in itself.
Here Miss Evans was met by her uncle, and she regretfully took leave of her kind friends. Mrs. Rowe’s last words to her were:—
“If you don’t succeed with your errand in Paris as you wish, I hope you’ll try London. You remember we are to leave here in a fortnight. When our route is decided upon, I’ll write you. We should be delighted to have you for a travelling companion again.”
As The Happy Six met next morning in the court, Paul announced,—
“The picture galleries and shops and everything will be closed to-day.”
“What for, Twinny dear?” asked his sister in an aggrieved tone.