"What! Can't you take us in? We counted on coming to your hotel."
I laughed outright. Mademoiselle raised what she is pleased to call her
eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders,
I explained to my guest his mistake. Instead of saying, "Oh! that's all
right," he said, "Well, I'll be blessed," and without wasting any more
time than for a hasty good-by he marched out to join the tired Maria, the
baby, the nurse, and Arthur. We watched them as they drove off, all gazing
out of the window at the hotel which was _not_ a hotel.
May Allah protect them!
_March 19th._
DEAR MOTHER,--The day before yesterday Henry and I decided to go to Petit
Val. I looked forward with delight to seeing my beautiful home again. Mrs.
Moulton promised to drive out and bring me back to Paris late in the
afternoon. We drove to the Gare de la Bastille and took our tickets for La
Varenne. The station was so horribly dirty, it looked as if it had not
been swept or cleaned since the commencement of the war, and as for the
first-class compartment we entered I really hesitated to sit down on the
shabby and dilapidated cushions.
We traveled very slowly, and stopped at every station mentioned in the
time-table. Although these were devoid of travelers, the conductor opened
the doors of all the carriages, and after waiting the allotted time
shouted mechanically, "En voiture," though there was absolutely no one to
get in.