At Bert's direction they spun along the Bois de Boulogne until they
reached the Pavilion d'Armenonville, one of those fairyland out-of-door
restaurants which abound in and near Paris.

As it was rather chilly to sit outside, they occupied a table in a
glass-protected court, and Bert proved himself a most satisfactory host.

"We've had an awfully jolly day," he observed, "at least I have, and I
hope the rest of you put in a good time. It's a satisfaction to feel
that we've done up Versailles, but I may as well confess that I didn't
go for that purpose so much as to spend a pleasant day with my friends."

Patty declared that she had enjoyed the society, not only of the friends
who went with her, but the companionship of the invisible ones, whose
presence seemed to haunt every nook and cranny of the palace and park.

As Patty looked about at their gaily decorated dining place, and looked
out at the brilliantly lighted scene outside, where the vari-coloured
electric lights hung in shining festoons, she came to the conclusion
that Paris was a gay and bright place after all, though when she had
entered it that first night, less than a week ago, she had thought it
rather dark and oppressive,

"It is dark," said Phil, as Patty expressed her thoughts; "to be sure, a
place like this is illuminated, but the streets are not half lighted,
and I think it's a shame."

"London streets at night aren't much better as to light," said Bert,
"but I say, you fellows, you just ought to see the streets in New York
at night. Whew! they're so bright they just dazzle you, don't they,