"We are England, that's enough, and we cannot realize that the world moves. We plume ourselves upon the time when we handed from our docks everything to poor indolent Europe, or only for the ignorant colonies," said Lady Esmondet, ironically.

"_N'importe, chere_ Lady Esmondet," answered Trevalyon, merrily. "Our manufacturers will wake with a start in 1878, and forego both night- caps; they won't have time to brew the one or don the other in surprise at exhibits from the poor colonies and the ingenious Americans."

"I have no doubt our manufacturers with myself will not be off with our old loves, while we can keep them; my comforts are safe, for I seduced one of the cooks from the club to come here with me; so night or day caps are to the fore," said Bertram.

"I thought," replied Trevalyon, "for a man of your taste, you had a most contentedly jolly look; no wonder, when we know the way to the aldermanic heart is through the aldermanic stomach."

"Capt. Trevalyon," laughingly said Vaura, "besides the _recherche_ little dinner Mr. Bertram has bid us to, I want you to cater to-- another sense and let us see the immense Hotel Continental!"

"Consider the Continental on the programme, my dear Miss Vernon; Mr. Bertram's _chef de cuisine_ will cater to the inner man," answered Trevalyon.

"Women sometimes eat," said Vaura, demurely.

"How gay the streets look," remarked Lady Esmondet, "it is always a _fete_ day _a_ Paris."

"A month or two ago the bands in the parks filled the air with music," said Vaura; "now it is filled with the murmur of many voices, see the little chesnut-seller doing his part."

"Here we are, _Hotel Liberte le Soleil_," said Trevalyon, as the carriage stopped.

"And here we part," said Bertram, "not, in the language of the poet, 'to meet no more,' but to meet on to-morrow eve at my appartments, and I shall inform my cook that three of England's epicures honour me, and to get up something better than frogs' legs."

"We shall expect ambrosia," laughed Lady Esmondet.

"_Tres bien_, I shall not forget," said Bertram, as he made his adieux.

"Au revoir, Bertram," cried Trevalyon. "And for your life don't forget a dish of turtle's liver from Voisin's.

"We have teased him enough at all events," said Lady Esmondet; "but as for turtle's liver, I am rather chary of it as yet. But do my eyes deceive me, or is it petticoat government here?"

"Yes, feminine rule is the order of the day," replied Trevalyon.

"How important we look in possession of office, desk and stool; I was not aware we had mounted so high anywhere outside the United States," said Lady Esmondet.

Here a man in neat livery stepped forward to show them to their suite of apartments, which Trevalyon, at the written request of his friend, had secured, who now seeing his companions _en route_ for their rooms, bent his steps in the direction of the office to complete the necessary business arrangements.

CHAPTER XV.

HEART-STIRS.

As our friends followed the servant, a child's cry proceeded from one of the salons as they passed; the page had a comedy face, and Vaura thinking his reply might amuse, asked:

"Do the babies take care of each other?"

With a farcical expression, the man answered unlocking the doors:

"_Oui_, Mademoiselle."