Thus far we have found travelling second class very agreeable, for when the trains are fast there are advantages in so doing--more room and less expense than by first class.
At Paris the examination of luggage is a perfect nuisance. An Englishman, and still more an English _woman_, very reluctantly hands over her keys to a French gen d'arme, who, be your presence never so imposing, ruthlessly capsizes your careful and thoughtful stowage, whilst you angrily or impatiently watch your travelling sanctum pried into by dirty-handed, over-zealous officials. The one examination at Calais, when there was plenty of time, should surely have sufficed; but at the end of a journey, when one is tired and anxious to get to one's hotel and dinner, it is aggravating beyond measure.
On this occasion the ladies' baggage was particularly selected for inspection, much to the annoyance of my wife, who most unwillingly gave up her keys, and declared her opinion that "it was because gentlemen put their cigars into the ladies' trunks." Of course this fully explained it!
There is some difficulty in claiming one's possessions after their examination, as there are legions of voracious hotel touters ready to pounce upon not only "somebody's," but everybody's luggage, and the owners too, if possible, and carry all off to the omnibuses attached to their several hotels.
However, we at last arrive at the St. James Hotel, in the Rue St. Honorè, where, as usual, there is quite an army of waiters to welcome the "coming guest." To an inexperienced traveller, and indeed to my pleased wife, this is gratefully accepted as a _warm welcome_, but those who have had some little experience know better, or rather worse. Fortunately, we secure a room on the third floor, and therefore so far carry out our resolutions of economy! and now, in preference to the sumptuous _table d'hôte_, we decide to dine _à la carte_, which means a little table to yourself, where you may select what you wish to eat, have it at any hour you please, and pay for just what you order. This is not only less expensive, but far more quiet and comfortable after the fatigue of a journey, than the crowded and imposing _table d'hôte_, with its never-ceasing clatter and chatter, where you will be lucky if you find a dish that will prove agreeable to your palate. Sometimes, however, the change is enjoyable, as you cannot fail to be amused at the eccentricities of your neighbours; perhaps finding your own weaknesses reflected in them. Often you will find a dozen nationalities represented, and a perfect Babel-like talk, each little exclusive party, like crows, intent only upon covering its own nest.