Patty in Paris

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.

CHAPTER X

SIGHTSEEING

They rose next morning to find a perfect autumn day awaiting them. To Patty'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 next avenue 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.

CHAPTER XI

AN EXCURSION TO VERSAILLES

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.