It was very nice to waken the next morning and find the sunshine streaming in at the windows.  
Barbara was ready to be charmed with everything, from the pretty little maid in the mob cap, who carried in the breakfast, to the crisp rolls and coffee. Both of the travellers were quite rested, and eager to begin sight-seeing, and Miss Britton left the choice of place to her niece. The latter scanned the guide-book as she took her breakfast, and kept calling out fresh suggestions every few moments; but, finally, they on the Louvre as most of their first visit.
 
I do not know whether it was the experience of the night before, but Aunt Anne seemed to have a idea that Paris was full of thieves, and before starting out she made the most careful preparations for encountering . She sewed some of her money into a little bag inside her dress, put some more into a pocket in her underskirt, and said that Barbara might pay for things in general, as it would teach her the use of French money. She herself kept only a few centimes in a shabby purse in her dress pocket, "to disappoint any thief who took it."
 
As soon as the fiacre stopped in the court of the Louvre, they were by several disreputable and seedy-looking men wanting to act as guides through the galleries. Partly to get rid of the rest, partly because they thought it might be easier, they engaged the tidiest-looking one who seemed to know most English, and, feeling rather pleased with themselves, entered the first gallery. Of course, Barbara wished to begin by seeing those pictures which she had heard most about; but the guide had a particular way of his own of taking people round, and did not like any interference.
 
Indeed, he did not even like to let them stay longer than a few seconds at each picture, and kept the whole time, till at last they grew annoyed, and Aunt Anne told him they would do the rest by themselves. But it took some time to get rid of him, and then he went sulkily, complaining that they had not given him enough, though Barbara felt sure he had really got twice as much as was his due.
 
They enjoyed themselves very much without him, and saw a great deal before lunch-time.
 
At the end of the meal, when Aunt Anne was going to take out her purse to use the centimes in it for a tip for the waiter, she discovered her preparations had not been in vain, and that the purse really had been stolen. Perhaps, on the whole, she was rather glad, for she turned to Barbara in triumph.
 
"There now, Barbara," she said, "if I had had my other purse in my pocket, it would have been just the same, and now whoever has it will be properly disappointed!"
 
They did not return to Neuilly until the evening, where they met the rest of the pension at dinner. Besides two brothers of the Belvoir family, there were a number of French visitors and one English family, to whom Miss Britton and her niece took an dislike. The father, who, they were told, was a whose health had broken down, was greedy and vulgar, and his son and daughter were pale, frightened-looking creatures, who took no part in the gay conversation which the French kept up.
 
After dinner, when every one else went into the for music, the solicitor and his children to their rooms, which Mademoiselle Belvoir and her brothers seemed to resent. The former to Barbara, in very English, that they had never had such people in their house before, and Aunt Anne, who overheard the remark, shook her head .
 
"I would not trust them, Mademoiselle" (Miss Britton was English from the sole of her foot to the tip of her tongue). "They seem unpleasant, and I have a great power for reading faces." At which Mademoiselle Belvoir murmured something about wishing her mother were back.
 
However, the evening was a pleasant one, though Barbara was so tired that she was hardly an intelligent listener to the music provided, and fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.
 
She was, therefore, a little surprised when she awoke suddenly two hours later for no reason at all. She had been dreaming about something exciting, and lay trying to remember what it was, when an feeling stole over her, and it seemed as if she heard breathing—which was not her aunt's—close beside her. She did not dare to move for a moment. Then she turned her head very gently, and between the two windows near the she was sure she saw a dark figure. The longer she watched the surer she became, and she knew it could not be her aunt, whom she heard breathing quietly in the other bed.
 
It was certainly a horrible sensation, and all the unpleasant stories she had ever read crowded into her mind. At first she could not think what to do, but at last made up her mind to go across the room to Miss Britton's bed and tell her.
 
Yawning, and pretending to wake up gradually, though all the time she felt as if she had been lying there for hours, she called out, "Aunt Anne, I can't sleep, so I'm coming into your bed."
 
Miss Britton awoke at once—she was a light sleeper—and at first I think she imagined her niece was mad.
 
"If you can't sleep in your own bed," she said, "I'm quite sure you won't sleep in mine, for it's not big enough for two."
 
But Barbara persisted, and at last her aunt gave way. "Well," she said at last, rather crossly, "be quick if you are coming. I don't want to be kept awake all night."
 
The truth was, it seemed so horrible to cross the room close to that black figure—as she would have to do—that Barbara lingered a moment, screwing up her courage. It was hard, certainly, to walk slowly across, for she thought she should not run, feeling all the time as if two hands would catch hold of her in the darkness. She was very glad to creep in beside her aunt, and at first could not do anything but lie and listen to that lady's grumblings. Then warning her not to scream, she whispered very softly that there was a man beside the window. Miss Britton took it wonderfully coolly, and after the first start said nothing for a few minutes. Then she remarked in loud, cheerful tones, "Well, child, as you are not sleepy, let us talk about our plans for to-morrow."
 
They talked a long time, hoping that the man would give it up and go; but still the black figure stood there motionless.
 
At last Barbara, who could bear it no longer, said "Oh, aunt, since we can't sleep let us put on the light and read up things in the guide-book."
 
At that moment she heard a behind, and saw the man try to get into the recess; but the trunks were there, and meeting that , he turned and made a quick dash to the French window, and was out in a moment, whereupon Aunt Anne and Barbara sat up in bed and screamed. Then the girl leaped to the electric light, and her aunt to the bell, and in a few moments the maids and the Misses Belvoir came running in.
 
"He's gone!" cried Barbara, looking out of the window and feeling quite brave now that so many people had arrived. "He's gone, and it was too dark to see his face."
 
Aunt Anne, meanwhile, explained, as well as she could, what had happened, and the Misses Belvoir looked so frightened and worried that Barbara felt she must be a dreadful nuisance. But they were very nice and extremely apologetic, declaring that such a thing had never happened before, and that the police should be told in the morning, and their brothers would search the garden at once and sit outside their door all night if Miss Britton liked. But Aunt Anne, who had common-sense, said briskly—
 
"Nonsense; whoever it was, he will be too frightened to think of coming back to-night, so just go to your beds, and let us get to ours." And she pushed them gently out. They continued to apologies after the door was shut; but Aunt Anne paid not the least .
 
"Now, my dear," she said, turning to Barbara, "I am sure you know that what I said to them is quite true, and that our friend will not return to-night. So be sensible, and go back to bed, and we will talk about it all in the morning."
 
Of course, Barbara did as she was told, and, though she was sure she would never get to sleep, strange to say, in a very little while she was dreaming peacefully, and did not waken till late next morning.