“Do you like her better than Elvira?” “Of course I do,” most emphatically. “Mamma, she loves Sir Kenneth of the Leopard as much as I do.” Mrs. Evelyn was satisfied. While Sir Kenneth of the Leopard remained the object of the young ladies’ passion, there was not much fear of any nonsense that was not innocent and happy. No news of the bag. Janet was disposed to go back herself or send Delrio, but Sir James declared this impossible; nor would the Evelyns consent to disturb the plan of the journey, and disappoint those who expected them at Engelberg on Saturday by waiting at Paris for tidings. Janet in vain told herself that she was not under their control, and tried to remain behind by herself with her maid. They had a quiet, high-bred decisive way of taking things for granted, and arranging for her and she found herself unable to resist; but whenever, in after times, she was unpleasantly reminded of her loss, she always charged it upon them. Otherwise the journey was prosperous. Elfie was on the terms of a saucy pet with the General, and Babie’s bright, gentle courtesy and unselfishness won Mrs. Evelyn’s heart, while she and Sydney were as inseparable as ever. In fact Sydney had been made free of Jotapata. That celebrated romance had been going on all these years with the elision of several generations; because though few members of the family were allowed to see their twenty-fifth year, it was impossible to squeeze them all into the crusading times; and besides the reigning favourites must be treated to an adventure with Coeur de Lion. Even thus abridged, it bade fair to last throughout the journey, both the little maidens being sufficiently experienced travellers to care little for the sights from the French railway, and being only stimulated to talk and listen the more eagerly when interrupted by such trifles as meals, companions, and calls to look at objects far less interesting. “Look, my dears; we are coming to the mountains. There is the first snowy head.” “Yes, mamma,” but the hats were together again in the corner. “Come, Sydney, don’t lose this wonderful winding valley.” “I see, Uncle James. Beautiful!” popping back instantly with, “Go on, Babie, dear. How did Sir Gilbert get them out of that horrid defile full of Turks? It is true, you said.” “True that Louis VII. and Queen Eleanor got into that dreadful mess. Armine found it in Sismondi, but nobody knew who Sir Gilbert was except ourselves; and we are quite sure he was Sir Gilbert of the Ermine, the son of the brother who thought it his duty to stay at home.” “Sir Philibert? Oh, yes! I know.” “There are some verses about the Iconium Pass, written out in our spotted book, but I can say some of them.” “Oh, do!” “‘The rock is steep, the gorge is deep, Mount Joye St. Denys; But King Louis bold his way doth hold, Mount Joye St. Denys.