"Till sine die, if the story be a long one, my dear sir--there's nothing
I hate so much, except cold punch."

"You are going to Paris," said I; "is it not so?"

"Yes, I'm thinking of it. I was up at Trolhatten, in Norway, three weeks
ago, and I was obliged to leave it hastily, for I've an appointment with
a friend in Geneva."

"Then how do you travel?"

"On foot, just as you see, except that I've a tobacco bag up stairs, and
an umbrella."

"Light equipment, certainly; but you must allow me to give you a set down
as far as Amiens, and also to present you to my friends there."

To this Mr. O'Leary made no objection; and as Miss Bingham could not bear
any delay, in her anxiety to join her mother, we set out at once--the
only thing to mar my full enjoyment at the moment being the sight of the
identical vestments I had so lately figured in, bobbing up and down
before my eyes for the whole length of the stage, and leading
to innumerable mischievous allusions from my friend Mr. O'Leary,
which were far too much relished by my fair companion.

At twelve we arrived at Amiens, when I presented my friend Mr. O'Leary to
Mrs. Bingham.