I think girls are----" "Ralph, my boy," said grandmother, seeing that by this time Molly was almost in tears; "whatever you think of girls, you make me, I am sorry to say, think that boys' love of teasing is utterly incomprehensible--and oh, _so_ unmanly!" The last touch went home.
"I was only in fun, grandmother," said Ralph with unusual meekness; "I didn't mean really to vex Molly." So peace was restored.
To-morrow turned out fine, deliriously fine.
"Not like England," said Molly superciliously, "where it _always_ rains when you want it to be fine." They made the most of the beautiful weather, though by no means agreeing with aunty's reminder that even in Paris it did sometimes rain, and the three pairs of eager feet were pretty tired by the time bed-time came.
And oh, what a disappointment the next morning brought! The children woke to a regular, pouring wet day, no chance of fulfilling the programme laid out, for Sylvia was subject to sore throats, and grandmother would not let her go out in the damp, and there would be no fun in going to the Louvre without her.

So, as what can't be cured _must_ be endured, the children had just to make the best of it and amuse themselves in the house in the hopes of sunshine again for to-morrow.
These hopes were happily fulfilled.
"A lovely day," said aunty, "all the brighter for yesterday's rain." "And we may go to the Louvre," exclaimed Sylvia eagerly.
Aunty hesitated and turned, as everybody did when they were at a loss, to grandmother.
"What do you think ?" she said.

She was reluctant to disappoint the children--Sylvia especially--as they had all been very good the day before, but yet----"It is Saturday, and the Louvre will be so crowded you know, mother." "But _I_ shall be with you," said Ralph.
"And _I_!" said grandmother.

"Is not a little old lady like me equal to taking care of you all ?" "Will you really come too, dear grandmother ?" exclaimed Sylvia and Molly in a breath.

"_Oh_, how nice!" "I should like to go," said grandmother.