Dearest Mamma,--We have got this far! Never have you imagined such an
affair as our trip is. Coming across the Channel was bad enough. Aunt Maria
sniffed chloroform and remained semi-conscious until we got to Boulogne,
because she said one never could trust the sea, although it looked smooth
enough from the pier; on her honeymoon she recollected just the same
deceitful appearance and they took five hours and she was very sick and
decided not to chance it again! Uncle John had to hold one of her hands and
I the bottle, but we got there safely in the usual time and not a ripple on
the water! The motor had been sent on, and after sleeping at Boulogne we
started. The little gamins shouted, "Quel drole de char triomphant! Bon
voyage, Mesdames," and Aunt Maria smiled and bowed as pleased as possible,
not having heard a word.

Uncle John was as gay and attentive as I suppose he was on the
journey--this is how they speak of it--and made one or two quite risqué
jokes down the ear trumpet, and Aunt Maria blushed and looked so coy.
Apparently she had had hysterics at Folkestone originally--did you have
them when you married, Mamma? I never thought of such a thing when Harry
and I--but I did not mean to speak of him again. Aunt Maria wears the same
shaped bonnet now as she did then, and strangely enough it is exactly like
my new lovely chinchilla motor one Caroline sent for me to travel in. We
have the car open all the time and in the noise Aunt Maria hears much
better, so one has only to speak in an ordinary voice down the trumpet.

Everything went all right until this morning; we left Versailles at
dawn--how they were ever ready I don't know, considering the tremendous lot
of wraps and pillows and footwarmers and heaven knows what they
have;--besides Uncle John saying all the time it is their second honeymoon.
However, we got off, and as we have been on the road two days, even Janet,
who is naturally as meek as a mouse, is beginning to "turn" at her seat in