occasionally breaking the silence to sigh aloud, "_O Maman!_" and
thenceforth, for the greater part of the journey to Paris, he slumbers
in a more or less jumpy manner.

_At the Grand Hotel, Paris_.--"Aha!" cries M. le Baron BLUM,--always
in full Blum at the Grand Hotel,--"At last! arrived!" as if he had
expected us for several weeks past,--"How are you? I have your rooms
ready for you!" He must have seen us driving into the courtyard, and
settled our numbers there and then, not a minute ago. It's a great
thing for weary travellers to be welcomed on arrival. No matter
if they're forgotten again the next moment, and not thought of
again until the hour of their departure. It is the welcome that is
everything; it implies so much, and may mean so little. But, at the
Grand, Paris, _Avis aux Messieurs les voyageurs, _"When in doubt,
consult BLUM!" We enjoy a good but expensive dinner at the Maison
Dorée. For myself, I prefer the simple fare at half the price to be
found _chez Noël_, or at some other quiet and moderate restaurants
that I could name. Next morning a brief but welcome breakfast at
Amiens, a tranquil crossing, and we are bidding each other adieu at
the Victoria Station. Music to the situation, "_Home once more_."
Good-bye to my excellent _ami_ DAUBINET, who stays a few hours in
London, and then is off to Russia, Egypt, Iceland, Australia.

"_Da Karascho!_ All r-r-right!"

And so ends a pleasant holiday trip to the Champagne Country, or real
"Poppy-Land."

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