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.

The whole royal courtyard and the great Equestrian Statue of Louis XIV. seemed very wonderful to Patty, and she could scarcely realise that the great French monarch himself had often stood where she was now standing.

"I never seemed to think of Louis XIV.," she said, "as a man. He seems to me always like a set of furniture, or a wall decoration, or at most a costume."

"Now you've hit it," said Paul; "Louis XIV. was, at most, a costume; and a right-down handsome costume, too. I wish we fellows could dress like that nowadays."

"I wish so, too," said Elise; "it's a heap more picturesque than the clothes men wear at the present day."

"I begin to feel," said Patty, "that I wish I had studied my French history harder. How many kings lived here after Louis XIV.?"

"Two," replied Mr. Farrington, "and when, Patty, at one o'clock on the sixth of October, 1789, the line of carriages drove Louis XVI. and his family away from here to Paris, the Chateau was left vacant and has never since been occupied."

"In October," said Patty, "and probably just such a blue and gold day as this! Oh, how they must have felt!"

"I wouldn't weep over it now, Patty," said the matter-of-fact Elise; "they've been gone so long, and so many people have wept for them, that I think it wasted emotion."

"I believe it would be," said Patty, smiling, "as far as they're concerned; but I can't help feeling sorry for them, only I could never weep before, because I never realised what it was they were leaving."

The party went on into the Chateau, and visited rooms and apartments one after the other. It was necessary to do this quickly if they were to do it at all, and, as Mr. Farrington said, a hasty tour of the palace would give them an idea of it as a whole, and sometime he would bring the girls again to enjoy the details more at leisure.

Patty was discovering that she was susceptible to what Elise chose to call wasted emotion, and she found herself again on the verge of tears when they entered the Chapel. Though she did not know enough of architecture to survey intelligently the somewhat pompous apartment, she was delightfully impressed by the rich adornments and the wonderful sculptures, bronzes and paintings.

Rather rapidly they passed through the various SALONS of the museum, pausing here and there, as one or another of the party wished to examine something in particular. The State Rooms and Royal Apartments were most interesting, but Patty concluded that she liked best of all the Gallery of Battles. The splendid pictures of war enthralled her, and she would have been glad had the rest of the party left her to spend the entire day alone in the great gallery.

But this, of course, they had no wish to do, and with a last lingering glance at the picture of Napoleon at the battle of Jena, she reluctantly allowed herself to be led away.

Napoleon was one of Patty's heroes, and she was eagerly interested in all of the many relics and souvenirs of the great man.

Especially was she interested in his bedroom, and greatly admired the gorgeous furnishings and quaint, old-fashioned French bedstead.

Having scurried through the palace and museum, Mr. Farrington declared that he could do no more sightseeing until he had eaten some sustaining luncheon.

So again they climbed into the automobiles and were whisked away to a hotel in the town.

Here they were provided with a most satisfying meal, which was partaken of amid much merry conversation and laughter.

CHAPTER XII
SHOPPING

The afternoon was devoted to the gardens and the Trianons.

Elise was enraptured with the garden, but Patty, while she admired them very much, thought them too stiff and formal for her taste. Laid out, as they are, according to the laws of geometrical symmetry, it seemed to Patty that grace and beauty were sacrificed to squares and straight lines.

But none the less was she interested in the wonderful landscape, and amazed that any grass could be so green as that of the marvelous green carpet. The multitude of statues and fountains, the walks and terraces, and the exquisite colours of the autumn trees, made a picture that Patty never forgot.

The Trianons presented new delights, and Patty fancied herself transported back to the days of Marie Antoinette and her elaborately planned pleasures.

A place of especial interest was the carriage house, where are exhibited the Royal State carriages.

As they were about to enter, Phil Marchbanks, who was ahead, turned round with a look of comical dismay on his face.

"We can't go in," he said; "we can't fulfil their requirements!"

"What do you mean?" said Patty.

"Why here's a sign that says 'wet umbrellas must be left in the cloak room.' You see, it's imperative,—and as we have no wet umbrellas to leave in the cloak room, whatever shall we do?"

"Isn't it awful!" said Patty. "Of course, we can't go in if we don't fulfil their laws. But it's a foolish law, and better broken than kept, so I propose we march on in spite of it."

So they marched on and spent one of their pleasantest half hours admiring the royal coaches.

The Coronation Carriage of Charles the X. pleased Patty most, especially as it had been restored by Napoleon and bore the magic initial N. on its regalia.

Mr. Farrington slyly volunteered the information that it stood for Napoleon the Third, but Patty declared that she didn't care, as any Napoleon was good enough for her.

SHOPPING

Then the various sights of the Trianons claimed their attention, and they visited the farm and the dairy, and the Temple of Love, and the Swiss Cottage, and the Presbytery, and the Music Pavilion, and the Mill, until they were all mixed up, and Patty declared that her mind was nothing but a kaleidoscope full of broken bits of gay scenes.

Then the party went to the Grotto of Apollo, and sat down there for a short time to rest before returning home.

"This is the first time," said Patty, "that it has seemed like a picnic, but this is a real picnic place,—though a much more grand one than I ever picnicked in before."

"You can probably make up your mind," said Bert, "that it's about the grandest picnic place there is; and speaking of picnics, I'd like to invite all this party to dine with me on our way home."

"Where is your dining-room?" asked Mrs. Farrington.

"I'll show you," said Bert eagerly, "if you'll only go with me. It isn't quite time to start yet, but it soon will be, and I'll take you to an awfully jolly place and not a bit out of our way, either."

Mrs. Farrington agreed to go, and the rest eagerly accepted the invitation, and after resting a little longer, the party leisurely prepared to start.

At Bert's direction they spun along the Bois de Boulogne until they reached the Pavilion d'Armenonville, one of those fairyland out-of-door restaurants which abound in and near Paris.

As it was rather chilly to sit outside, they occupied a table in a glass-protected court, and Bert proved himself a most satisfactory host.

"We've had an awfully jolly day," he observed, "at least I have, and I hope the rest of you put in a good time. It's a satisfaction to feel that we've done up Versailles, but I may as well confess that I didn't go for that purpose so much as to spend a pleasant day with my friends."

Patty declared that she had enjoyed the society, not only of the friends who went with her, but the companionship of the invisible ones, whose presence seemed to haunt every nook and cranny of the palace and park.

As Patty looked about at their gaily decorated dining place, and looked out at the brilliantly lighted scene outside, where the vari-coloured electric lights hung in shining festoons, she came to the conclusion that Paris was a gay and bright place after all, though when she had entered it that first night, less than a week ago, she had thought it rather dark and oppressive.

"It is dark," said Phil, as Patty expressed her thoughts; "to be sure, a place like this is illuminated, but the streets are not half lighted, and I think it's a shame."

"London streets at night aren't much better as to light," said Bert, "but I say, you fellows, you just ought to see the streets in New York at night. Whew! they're so bright they just dazzle you, don't they, Patty?"

"Broadway does, but the other streets aren't so awfully light."

"Well, they're a lot lighter than they are over here. But Paris is the worst of all. Why, I'm scared to be out after nightfall."

"If that's the case," said Mrs. Farrington, laughing, "we'd better be starting now; and at any rate, it's high time my young charges were at home. I hadn't expected Patty and Elise to indulge in quite such grown-up gaieties as dining out here, but I hadn't the heart to refuse for them your kind invitation."

Bert expressed his gratitude that Mrs. Farrington had made an exception in his favour, and then the whole party started homeward.

When she reached there, Patty was so tired she could scarcely talk over the pleasures of the day with Elise, and she tumbled into bed without so much as a look at her beloved Vendome Column.

But the next day found the two girls entirely rested and quite ready for more jaunting about.

But Mrs. Farrington declared that she could do no sightseeing that day, as the somewhat fatiguing trip to Versailles made her quite contented to rest quietly for a time.

So Patty employed her morning happily enough in writing letters home and in arranging her post-card album.

"I'm so glad," she said to Elise, "that Clementine gave me this great big album, for I see already it is none too large. I've taken out all the New York views and laid them aside. I shall probably give them to somebody, as there is no sense in carrying them home again. And I'm filling the book with Paris views. Isn't it fortunate they invented post-cards, for unmounted photographs do curl up so, and I hate those little books of views."

"Indeed, it's fine, Patty, and you're arranging them beautifully. I can't do that sort of thing at all; I'm as clumsy at it as a hippopotamus. But I'd love to have a book like yours to take home."

"I'll give you this one," said Patty quickly, and she truly meant it, for she was generous by nature, and, too, she was glad to give Elise something that she really wanted.

"I wouldn't take it! you needn't think I'm a pig if I AM a hippopotamus!"

"Well, I'll tell you what I will do, Elise. The first time we go shopping we'll get a big album exactly like this, and then we'll always get duplicate post-cards,—we have so far, anyway,—and I'll fix both the books."

"Oh, Patty, that will be lovely! you do it so neatly and daintily; and I always tear the corners and smudge the cards and every old thing. I wish we could go and buy the book this very afternoon."

"We can't; your mother won't go; she's too tired, and she'd never let us bob about Paris alone. And your father hates to shop, so he wouldn't take us."

"I know it, Patty, but perhaps mother would let us go with Lisette. Anyhow, I'm going to ask her."

"Why, yes," said Mrs. Farrington, when the project was laid before her; "I see no reason why you shouldn't go out and do a little shopping in charge of Lisette. She is a native French girl herself, she knows Paris thoroughly, and she's most reliable and trustworthy. But you must promise to do only what she allows you to do, and go only where she advises. In this expedition she must direct, not you."

The girls willingly promised, saying that they only wanted to buy the album and a few little things.

"Very well, then," said Mrs. Farrington; "you may go out for the afternoon. I'm glad to have you out in the sunshine, and you'll also enjoy looking at the pretty things in the shops."

So the girls arrayed themselves in their quiet pretty street costumes, and with Lisette in her tidy black gown, they started out.

They walked at first along the Rue de Rivoli, fascinated with the lovely trinkets in the shop windows. Unlike Mr. Farrington, Lisette did not care how long her young charges tarried, nor was she averse to looking at the pretty things herself.

"It's a funny thing," said Elise, as they came out of a shop, "that the things in a window are always so much prettier than the things inside the shop."

"That's Paris all over," said Patty; "I think the French not only put the best foot forward, but the foot they hold back is usually not very presentable."

"Yes, I believe that's true; and they always seem to make the best of everything, and that's why they're so happy and light-hearted. But here we are at a stationer's. Let's buy the album here."

The stationer's proved to be a most distracting place. They bought the album, and then they discovered a counter piled with post-cards, in which they were soon deeply absorbed.

"But you mustn't get so many, Elise," cried Patty, as she looked at the great pile Elise had laid aside to buy. "It's no fun at all to get them all at once and fill the book. Then it's all over. The fun is in collecting them slowly, a few at a time."

"But I want all these, Patty, so why not take them now?"

"No, you don't, either. Now look here, Elise, I'm making your book for you, so you take my advice in this matter, and you'll afterward admit that I'm right."

"You're always right, Patty," said Elise, smiling lovingly at her friend; "that's the worst of you! But I'll do as you say this time, only don't let it occur again."

Patty laughed and allowed Elise to select cards illustrating the places she had already seen, persuading her to leave the others until some future time.

Then they looked round the shop further, and discovered many attractive little souvenirs to take to friends at home.

"I think," said Patty, "I'll just buy some of these things right now. For surely I could never find anything for Frank and Uncle Charlie better than these queer little desk things. Aren't they unusual, Elise? Are they rococo?"

"Patty," said Elise, in a stage whisper, "I hate to own up to it, but really, I never did know what rococo meant! Isn't it something like cloisonne, or is it ormolu?"

Patty laughed. "To be honest, Elise, I don't exactly know myself, but I don't think you've struck it very closely. However, I'm going to buy this inkstand; I don't care if it's made of gingerbread!"

"And here's a bronze Napoleon; didn't Marian want that?"

"Oh, yes, indeed she did! I'm so glad you discovered him. Isn't he a dear little man? Just about three inches high; I believe the real emperor wasn't much more than that. Isn't he on a funny little flat pedestal?"

"It's a seal," explained the shopkeeper kindly.

"A seal!" echoed Patty blankly; "why no it isn't! a seal, indeed! why it isn't a bit like a seal; you might just as well call it a Teddy Bear! It's a man!"

Elise was giggling. "He doesn't mean that kind of a seal, Patty," she said; "he means a seal to seal wax with."

"Oh," said Patty, giggling, too; "why, so much the better. I beg your pardon, I'm sure, and I'm glad it's a seal. I can have Marian's monogram cut on it, and she can seal her letters by just letting Napoleon jump on them."

She left the order for the monogram, and the affable shopkeeper promised to send the finished seal home the next day. He seemed greatly interested in his two young customers, and had it not been for Lisette's sharp eye he would have urged them to buy even more of his wares.

But the canny young French girl had no notion of letting her charges be imposed upon, and she glared haughtily at the shopkeeper when he seemed too officious.

As they were about to leave the shop, some young people entered, and to the surprise of all, they proved to be the Van Ness girls and their cousins.

The four young people were out by themselves, and though quite capable of finding their way about alone, Lisette's French notions were a trifle shocked at the unchaperoned crowd.

But Patty and Elise were so glad to see their friends again that they gave little thought to conventions, and fell to chattering with all their might.

"Why haven't you been to see us?" asked Alicia; "you had our address."

"I know," said Elise, "but we've been so busy ever since we've been here that there hasn't seemed to be time for anything. But we're glad to see you now, and isn't it jolly that we chanced to meet here?"

"Yes, indeed, because we're going on to-morrow,—on our travels, I mean, and we wouldn't have had a chance to see you again. But now that we have met, let's put in a jolly afternoon together. Where are you going?"

"Nowhere in particular; we're just walking around Paris."

"That's exactly our destination; so let's go nowhere in particular together."