We had no sooner got to Paris
than Heloise felt better. She left me to go on with the maids and
luggage to the Champs Elysees, while she went to see M. Adam.
Paris looked out-of-seasonish and full of Americans as we drove
through. I am sitting in the little salon now, waiting for her to come
in, and I have got awfully tired just looking out of the window.
Everything is covered up with brown holland, but I dare say it is nice
when they are here. The tapestries are beautiful, so is the furniture,
judging by the piece I have lifted the coverings from. If she does not
come in soon I shall go for a walk with Agnes.
[Sidenote: _Paris in August_]
_9 p.m._--Heloise came in just as I was writing this morning, and we
had a scrappy kind of _dejeuner_ on the corner of the dining-room
table. Then she said we had better go to her _couturier_ in the Rue de
la Paix. She seemed all right now, and said M. Adam had not hurt her
much, and that she was to go to him again to-morrow morning. I always
like Paris even out of the season, don't you, Mamma? it is so gay. We
had a little victoria and rushed along, not minding who we ran into, as
is always the way with French cabs.
Pages:
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109