The elegant young man devoted himself to the two girls during the short crossing to Boulogne, his glances ever resting admiringly upon Miss Larchester. He found seats for them in the train to Paris, and travelled with them in the same carriage. He talked pleasantly about his travels; there did not seem to be a city in Europe that he had not visited.
When they were nearing their journey’s end, he inquired where they were going to put up. Miss Buckley, who had promised herself a good time, no matter what it cost, replied that they had selected the Hôtel Terminus; it was convenient for everything.
Mr. Darcy approved their choice. “You couldn’t do better,” he said in his well-bred, slightly languid voice, the cultivated tones of which appealed strongly to Miss Larchester. “’Pon my word, I think I might as well stay there myself. If you don’t want to see too much of me,” he added with his charming smile, “you’ve only got to give me a hint. I shan’t intrude.”
“You won’t intrude,” said Miss Buckley with her usual downrightness. “We shall look upon you as rather a godsend. Neither of us has been to Paris before; it’ll be awfully good of you to show us the ropes.”
Darcy replied cordially that it would afford him the greatest pleasure to show them “the ropes,” as the young lady so elegantly put it. When he was asked where he usually stayed, he named half a dozen of the most select hotels, with each one of which he appeared intimately acquainted.
The music-hall artist, who had picked up more knowledge of things than her friend, recognized one of them as patronized by Royalty. She was much impressed. She was greatly addicted to slang, living in an atmosphere of it, and she expressed her opinions freely to Lettice later on.
“We’ve struck it rich this time, you bet your life,” she said in her picturesque vernacular. “I’ve seen a few ‘toffs’ at the halls, but he beats ’em hollow. He’s ‘the goods,’ and no mistake.”
Miss Larchester had drawn the same conclusions, which she would naturally have expressed in different language.
Things went swimmingly. They had all their meals together at a table reserved for them by an obsequious waiter. Mr. Darcy showed them all the sights, Notre-Dame, the Louvre, the Bois de Boulogne, the Bourse; he took them to Versailles and Fontainebleau; he accompanied them to the music halls and the theatres where they were a bit bored, as they knew very little of the French language.
He spent money like water. Alma, who was no sponger, had begun by offering her share of the expenses, but Darcy would not hear of it. “No lady pays when she is in the company of a man,” he explained with an air of finality.