For the rest of the journey to Versailles there was hardly any international conversation.  Mr. Hinkson tied his handkerchief round his neck, and the Canadians tried to look as if they had no objection.  We passed through the villages of Montretout and Buze.  I know we did because momma took down the names, but I fancy they couldn’t have differed much from the general landscape, for I don’t remember a thing about them.  The Misses Bingham came and sat next us at luncheon, which flattered both momma and me immensely, though the Senator didn’t seem able to see where the distinction came in, and during this meal they pointed out the fact that Mr. Hinkson was drinking lemonade with his roast mutton, and asked us how we could travel with such a combination.  I remember poppa said that it was a combination that Mr. Hinkson and Mr. Hinkson only had to deal with, but momma and I felt the obloquy of it a good deal, though when we came to think of it we were no more responsible for Mr. Hinkson than the Misses Bingham were.  After that, walking rapidly behind the guide, we covered centuries of French history, illustrated by chairs and tables and fire-irons and chandeliers and four-post beds.  Momma told me afterwards that she was rather sorry she had taken me with the guide through Madame du Barry’s fascinating Petit Trianon, the things he didn’t say sounded so improper, but when I assured her that it was only contemporary scandal that had any effect on our morals, she said she supposed that was so, and somehow one never did expect people who wore curled wigs and knee-breeches to behave quite prettily.  The rooms were dotted with groups of people who had come in fiacres or by tramway, which made it difficult for the guide to impart his information only to those who had paid for it.  He generally surmounted this by saying, “Ladies and genelmen, I want you to stick closer than brothers.  When you hear me a-talkin’ don’ you go turnin’ over your Baedekers and lookin’ out of the window.  If I didn’t know a great big sight more about Versailles than Baedeker does I wouldn’t be here makin’ a clown of myself; an’ I’ll show you the view out of the window all in good time.  You see that lady an’ two genelmen over there? They’re listenin’ all right enough because they don’t belong to this party an’ they want to get a little information cheap price.  All right—­I let ’em have it!” At which the lady and two gentlemen usually melted away looking annoyed.

We were fascinated with the coaches of state and much impressed with the cost of them.  As momma said, it took so very little imagination to conjure up a Royal Philip inside bowing to the populace.

“What a pity we couldn’t have had them over!” said poppa indiscreetly.

“Where you mean?” demanded the guide, “over to America?  I know—­for that ole Chicago show!  You are the five hundred American who has said that to me this summer!  Number five hundred!  Nossir, we don’t lend those carriage.  We don’t even drive them ourself.”