Patty in Paris

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."

CHAPTER XIII

CHANTILLY

This plan seemed to please everybody except Lisette, who was a little troubled to have her young ladies going around with these Chicago people, of whom she did not quite approve.

But Patty only laughed at the anxious expression on the French girl's face. She knew well what was passing in her mind, and she said to her quietly: "It's all right, Lisette, they're our American friends, and I assure you Mrs. Farrington won't mind a bit, since you are with us. You're dragon enough to chaperon the whole State of Illinois."

It's doubtful if Lisette knew what the State of Illinois was, but she was devoted to Patty, and waved her scruples in deference to Patty's wishes, although she kept a stern watch on the big Van Ness boys.

But Bob and Guy behaved most decorously, and two more polite or well-mannered young men could not have been found among the native Parisians themselves.

Leaving the shop, they continued down the Rue de Rivoli till they reached the Louvre.

Doris proposed their going in, and as Patty was most anxious to do so, and Lisette saw no objection to visiting the great museum, they all entered.

It was Patty's first glimpse of the great picture gallery, and she began to wish she was not accompanied by the chattering crowd, that she might wander about wherever her fancy directed. But she remembered she would have ample opportunity for this all winter, so she willingly gave up her own desire to please the Van Ness girls.

They cared little for pictures, but were really good historical students, and they wanted to visit the rooms which contained curios and relics of famous people.

So the whole crowd followed the lead of Doris and Alicia, who had visited the Louvre before, and Patty found herself learning a great deal from the experienced way in which the girls discussed the exhibits. She found, too, that historical relics were more interesting than she had supposed, and she almost sighed as she thought of the many things she wanted to see and study during the winter.

"I hope you'll be here when we come back," Guy Van Ness said to her, as they stood together, looking at some old miniatures.

"I hope so, too," said Patty. "When are you coming?"

"I don't know exactly; it depends on uncle's plans; but probably about January."

"Oh, yes, we shall surely be here then, and probably living in a home of our own. Of course, I mean a temporary home, but not a hotel. I hope you will come to see us."

"Indeed I will. I wish we could have seen more of you this week, but uncle has rushed us about sightseeing so fast that there was no time for social calling."

"We saw Bert Chester and his crowd," said Patty; and then she told about the day at Versailles.

"What a lark!" exclaimed Guy; "I wish I had been along. But you must go somewhere with us when we're here in January, won't you?"

"I'd like to," said Patty, "but I can't promise. It all depends on the Farringtons. I'm their guest, so of course I'm under their orders."

"Well, it won't be my fault if we don't have some fun when we come back here," declared Guy, "and I shall do all I can to bring it about."

When they left the museum it was getting late in the afternoon, and Lisette decreed that her young ladies must go home at once. The Van Ness crowd raised great objection to this, but Lisette was obdurate, and calling a cab, she ushered the girls in, and then getting in herself, gave the order for home.

Patty couldn't help laughing at the serious way in which Lisette took care of them, but Mrs. Farrington told her it was quite right, and she would have been displeased had Lisette done otherwise.

"You don't quite understand, my dear," she said kindly, "the difference between the conventions of Paris and our own New York. It may seem foolish to you to be so carefully guarded, but I can't quite explain it to you so you would understand it, and therefore I'm going to ask you to obey my wishes without question, and more than that, when Lisette is temporarily in charge of you to obey her."

"Indeed I will, dear Mrs. Farrington," said Patty heartily; "and truly I wasn't rebelling the leastest mite. I'm more than ready to obey you, or Lisette, either, only it struck me funny to be put into a cab, like babies in a baby-carriage by their nursemaid."

"You're a good girl, Patty, and I don't foresee a bit of trouble in taking care of you. To-morrow I shall feel better, and I'll go shopping with you girls myself, and perhaps we may have time to look in at a few other places."

So Patty danced away, quite content to take things as they came, and sure that all the coming days were to be filled with all sorts of novelties and pleasures.

Their purchases had been sent home, reaching there before they did themselves, and Patty immediately fell to work on the albums, placing the cards in the little slits which were cut in the leaves to receive them.

The days flew by like Bandersnatches. Patty herself could not realise what became of them. She wrote frequently to the people at home and tried to include all of her young friends in America in her correspondence, but it seemed to be impossible, and so finally she took to writing long letters to Marian, and asking her to send the letters round to the other girls after she had read them.

Mr. and Mrs. Farrington had begun their search for a furnished house which they might rent for the winter. When they went to look at various ones suggested to them by their agent, they did not take the girls with them, as Mrs. Farrington said it was too serious a matter in which to include two chattering children.

So Patty and Elise were left pretty much to their own devices while the elder Farringtons went on these important errands.

But one bright morning when Mr. and Mrs. Farrington were preparing to start off in the automobile for the day, Elise begged that she and Patty might be allowed to go off on an excursion of some sort.

"Indeed, I think you ought," said Mr. Farrington kindly, "and I'll tell you what I think would be a first-rate plan. How would you like to go with Lisette to the Chateau of Chantilly for a day's outing? You could go on one of those 'personally conducted tours,' in a big motor van, with lots of other tourists."

"I think it will be lots of fun," cried Elise; "I've always wanted to climb up on one of those moving mountains and go wabbling away."

"I, too," said Patty; "just for once I think that sort of thing would be great fun."

"Then you must hustle to get ready," said Mr. Farrington, "for the cavalcade sets off at ten o'clock, and I don't believe they'd wait, even for two nice little girls like you. So run along and get your bonnets, and be sure not to forget to remember to feed the carp."

"What is a carp?" asked Patty, as she and Elise ran away to dress.

"Fish, I think," said Elise, "but we'll probably find out when we get there."

The girls were soon ready, and with Lisette they walked out in the bright sunshine and along the Rue de la Paix until they came to the corner where the personally conducted tourists were to start from.

Mr. Farrington had telephoned for tickets, so all they had to do was to clamber into their seats. This was done by mounting a stepladder placed at the side of the big vehicle. The seats of the van were graduated in height, so that the back ones were as good as the front, and, indeed, a full view of what was passing could be commanded from any position.

They had to wait until the tourists had all arrived, and then they started off at a good speed toward the country.

"I feel as if I were riding in one of the old royal state carriages," said Patty, "although there isn't the slightest resemblance in the vehicle, or the means of locomotion."