Dearest Mamma,—­I wonder if you have ever been to a Ralli de Papier?  It is fun.  We got to Marly at last after a long drive.  The rendezvous was in the middle of the forest, in such a lovely glade, and although it rained for the last twenty minutes of our drive, the sun came out when we got there, and the lights through the trees on the wet green were so beautiful.  There were quantities of carriages already arrived, every sort—­victorias, coaches, pony carts, charabancs, motor cars, and a few of the really odd kinds of shandrydans that one sees coming to country garden parties in England.  There were also numbers of officers riding in uniform—­cuirassiers, chasseurs, dragons—­and they were to take part in the chase.  There was one officer who was to lead the carriages in a procession through the short cuts, so that we might not miss any of the jumps, and he had a horn slung over his shoulder.  I do think it such a sensible plan; and if we could have the foxes trained in England to go just where they should, and then always drive to where the jumps are, like that, how much nicer hunting would be—­wouldn’t it, Mamma?

[Sidenote:  Better than Fox-hunting]

Well, at last every one seemed to be arrived, and it was gay.  I was glad Godmamma had been too tired to come, so Victorine was actually trusted with Jean and Heloise and me.  We had picked up the Baronne and the Comte and the Marquise de Vermandoise at Tournelle on our way.  The brake was not quite like an English one; it had seats facing, and then an extra one behind for the grooms, and Jean drove with Heloise beside him; but he does look like a trussed pigeon, and if the horses were not as quiet as mice, I am sure the Baronne would never have trusted herself with him.

[Sidenote:  The Vicomte up to Time]

They all began to chaff about the Vicomte; “Il ne chevauchera jamais si loin, pas meme pour vos beaux yeux,” the Marquise said.  Victorine seemed annoyed that any one should expect he would do anything for me.  “Evidemment Monsieur de la Tremors ne viendra pas,” she said.  I saw a beautiful black horse being led about by a groom, apart from the crowd, and I wondered who would ride it.  Just before the horn sounded for the carriages to start, from the farthest end of the allee we saw an officer galloping as hard as he could.  “Mon Dieu!  C’est Gaston!” screamed the Baronne.  “C’est pour vous, Enchanteresse,” said the Comte.  “Que c’est ridicule,” snapped Victorine, while the Marquise laughed and put her tongue into her gap.  “Oh! la belle jeunesse!” she said.