Outwardly, the plan of the Drive to Paris had the look of Victor’s traditional hospitality.  Nataly smiled at her incorrigibly lagging intelligence of him, on hearing that he had invited a company:  ’Lady Grace, for gaiety; Peridon and Catkin, fiddles; Dudley Sowerby and myself, flutes; Barmby, intonation; in all, nine of us; and by the dear old Normandy route, for the sake of the voyage, as in old times; towers of Dieppe in the morning-light; and the lovely road to the capital!  Just three days in Paris, and home by any of the other routes.  It’s the drive we want.  Boredom in wet weather, we defy; we have our Concert—­an hour at night and we’re sure of sleep.’  It had a sweet simple air, befitting him; as when in bygone days they travelled with the joy of children.  For travelling shook Nataly out of her troubles and gave her something of the child’s inheritance of the wisdom of life—­the living ever so little ahead of ourselves; about as far as the fox in view of the hunt.  That is the soul of us out for novelty, devouring as it runs, an endless feast; and the body is eagerly after it, recording the pleasures, a daily chase.  Remembrance of them is almost a renewal, anticipation a revival.  She enraptured Victor with glimpses of the domestic fun she had ceased to show sign of since the revelation of Lakelands.  Her only regret was on account of the exclusion of Colney Durance from the party, because of happy memories associating him with the Seine-land, and also that his bilious criticism of his countrymen was moderated by a trip to the Continent.  Fenellan reported Colney to be ’busy in the act of distilling one of his Prussic acid essays.’  Fenellan would have jumped to go.  He informed Victor, as a probe, that the business of the Life Insurance was at periods ’fearfully necrological!  Inexplicably, he was not invited.  Did it mean, that he was growing dull?  He looked inside instead of out, and lost the clue.

His behaviour on the evening of the departure showed plainly what would have befallen Mr. Sowerby on the expedition, had not he as well as Colney been excluded.  Two carriages and a cab conveyed the excursionists, as they merrily called themselves, to the terminus.  They were Victor’s guests; they had no trouble, no expense, none of the nipper reckonings which dog our pleasures; the state of pure bliss.  Fenellan’s enviousness drove him at the Rev. Mr. Barmby until the latter jumped to the seat beside Nesta in her carriage, Mademoiselle de Seilles and Mr. Sowerby facing them.  Lady Grace Halley, in the carriage behind, heard Nesta’s laugh; which Mr. Barmby had thought vacuous, beseeming little girls, that laugh at nothings.  She questioned Fenellan.

‘Oh,’ said he, ’I merely mentioned that the Rev. gentleman carries his musical instrument at the bottom of his trunk.’

She smiled:  ‘And who are in the cab?’

’Your fiddles are in the cab, in charge of Peridon and Catkin.  Those two would have writhed like head and tail of a worm, at a division on the way to the station.  Point a finger at Peridon, you run Catkin through the body.  They’re a fabulous couple.’