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."