narrow and not particularly clean streets.

But when they rolled into the Rue de la Paix and drove toward the Place
Vendome, the girls began to think that Paris was beautiful, after all.

It was rather more than dusk, but not dark, and the great square, with
its circumference of colonnaded buildings, and the wonderful column in
the centre, was exceedingly impressive, and filled Patty's soul with a
rapturous awe.

"Oh, Elise," she cried, grasping her companion's hand; "I never supposed
Paris would be like this! I thought it would be bright and gay and
festive; but instead of that, it's grand and solemn and awe-inspiring."

"So it is, here," said Elise; "but there is plenty of brightness and
gaiety in some parts of the city, I expect. Of course, this is historic
ground, and I suppose it was pretty much as it is now in the days when
they were building French history. That's Napoleon on top of that
statue, though you can't recognise him from here. You know about the
column, of course. It's been overthrown and rebuilt three or four
times."

"Yes, I remember studying about it in French history. It was torn down
at the time of the Commune, and later re-erected from the fragments. But
you know when you study those dry facts they don't seem to mean
anything; but to be here, really in Paris, looking at that wonderful
column, in this dusky light, and the stars just beginning to show--oh,
Elise, it's more like fairy tales than history!"

"I love it, too," said Elise; "and I'm so glad to be here with you. Oh,