Now, take it all round, this was extremely sensible advice to give herself. Regina had a cup of tea on board the train. She made a valiant effort to read one or two magazines which she had with her, and arrived at Dover, she went on board the steamer, chose her berth, and then went into the town to seek a suitable place for dinner. I feel that it is much to her credit that she chose the best hotel in the town. And yet it was a very haggard and sad-eyed Regina who reached the terminus at Paris. Still, she never turned from her resolve. She chartered her _fiacre_, and involuntarily, as they drove down the Rue Amsterdam, her eyes turned to the wonderful bazaar in which in former days she and Alfred had spent some money and a certain amount of time, experiencing at a very small cost the delirious joy of shopping in Paris. So on, through the bright Paris streets, already teeming with life, and down into the heart of the city where was situate the hotel from which Alfred had written. It was not one at which Regina had ever stayed herself--no, it was small and unpretentious, with a quaint little courtyard adorned by a few shrubs in square wooden boxes painted a brighter green than the leaves. "Yes, M. Vittequere, he is staying in the hotel," so the handsome and voluble landlady informed her. "With a lady?" Regina asked. "Well," she admitted, there was a lady, but she was not staying in the hotel; she was not Mr. Whittaker's wife; on the contrary, she was a client, and madame had found her an excellent lodging in an adjacent house--one, in fact, belonging to the mother of madame herself. "And she is a Frenchwoman; she knows her Paris well." "A Frenchwoman?" Regina echoed. "And monsieur, he is risen?" "If monsieur has risen he is but just descended from his bedchamber." She called to a passing waiter, and demanded to know whether M. Whittaker, _numéro treize_, was yet descended. "Monsieur is at breakfast with madame," was the man's reply. The Frenchwoman, who had taken in the situation at a glance, and knew from Regina's general appearance, and perhaps especially from her sables, that this was the legitimate Madame Whittaker, frowned at the man, who, as Regina plainly saw, cast about mentally for a way of retrieving his mistake. "Show me the way," said Regina. "No, it is not necessary to warn monsieur; I know him extremely well. Ah, in the _salle_? I will go by myself."