"Not at all. I've never done any travelling pays before, and it's high time I learnt how to. Why do the stupid people say breakfast when they mean lunch? Another tenpenneth of tea and the biscuits I carry will do for my breakfast. So only dinner need count. Really the cost of going all that distance is absurdly small when one thinks of it. And then the saving of night travel, besides the comfort of having a proper bed without the trouble of going to it." "Still, you pay pretty high for the comfort." "Only the usual first-class fare. There it is, written down plainly; just read the advertisement, Herbert: 'Monte Carlo and Sunshine--as easy as going to Brighton. The train, with special new bogie corridor carriages'--I shan't like the bogie part, though--'leaves Victoria at 11 a.m.' H'm, h'm--'you land at Calais in less than an hour'--just fancy!--h'm--'no scrambling for meals or seats, your places have been reserved, and you walk in as you would to your stall at a theatre.'" "Matinée Hats and all?" interjected Arthur with brutal levity, haughtily ignored but not unnoted. "'Separate staterooms'--now I shall know what a stateroom is like--'artistically furnished and decorated, warmed, lighted by electricity, and each provided with a dressing-room with hot and cold water.' Now, Herbert, isn't it wonderful? And besides all that, just listen: 'Perfect meals are served, and the sleeping accommodation is _magnificent_.' Now, I should be quite content with the artistic stateroom and the separate dressing-room, shouldn't you? H'm--h'm--h'm. 'And you arrive, not fatigued, but _refreshed_, at Nice at 10.32 a.m., so that'--h'm--h'm--h'm--'you may be taking your _déjeuner_'--h'm--h'm--'_bathed in sunlight_,' etc., 'in about twenty-four hours after leaving the fogs of London.' Bathed in sunlight," she sighed with luxurious rapture. "Why have we never done this thing before?" asked Herbert. "Far from being expensive, the journey appears positively to enrich you. Still, I advise you to take some soap and a towel, and a few odd louis and a handful of francs. But, my poor child, observe this little item, 'Supplemental charges' for the sleeping-cars." "What? Five pounds practically! Then I'll just not have a sleeping-car at all, but tuck myself up in the artistically furnished, warmed, and lighted stateroom for the night." "Alas! I regret to say that the staterooms and sleeping-rooms are one and indivisible." "Then," said Ermengarde, with deep and indignant conviction, "it's a shame and a swindle. And I'll go by a _Rapide_, and make myself up in a corner with cushions. Providing I face the engine and have a corner seat, I can always sleep in a train."