CHAPTER II.
LOST IN THE LOUVRE.
"Oh how I wish that I had lived In the ages that are gone!" A CHILD'S WISH.
It was--did I say so before?
the children's first visit to Paris.

They had travelled a good deal, for such small people quite "a _very_ good deal," as Molly used to maintain for the benefit of their less experienced companions.

They knew England, "of course," Ralph would say in his lordly, big-boy fashion, Scotland too, and Wales, and they had spent some time in Germany.

But they had never been in Paris, and the excitement on finding the journey safely past and themselves really there was very considerable.
"And, Molly," said Sylvia, on their way from the railway station to the hotel where rooms had been engaged for them, "remember you've _promised_ not to awake me in the middle of the night if you begin thinking about the top of the bed coming down." "And, oh, Sylvia! I _wish_ you hadn't reminded me of it just now," said Molly pathetically, for which all the satisfaction she received was a somewhat curt observation from Sylvia, that she shouldn't be so silly.
For Sylvia, though in reality the kindest of little elder sisters, was sometimes inclined to be "short" with poor Molly.

Sylvia was clever and quick, and very "capable," remarkably ready at putting herself, as it were, in the place of another and seeing for the time being, through his or her spectacles.