breakfast in
Narbonne, where we'd unexpectedly stayed the night, he hinted darkly of
most exciting events in which we were intimately concerned, which would
in all probability take place at Cannes, if we could only arrive there
soon enough. I couldn't get him to tell me what they were, but I fancy
Aunt Mary is at least partly in his confidence. She wouldn't betray him,
but she assured me that to miss the treat in store for us would mean
lasting regret. And she was bursting with importance and mystery. Now I
don't believe much in Jimmy's show; nothing of his ever does come off,
except his hat when he drives. Still, a little of Jimmy's society goes a
long way in the intimate association of a motoring journey; what it
_would_ be in married life I don't know and don't want to know; and as I
too began to think I shouldn't be sorry to get to the Riviera, I
consented to be whirled through some lovely places, just to satisfy Aunt
Mary and Jimmy's craving for haste, and lack of love for ancient
architecture.

We arrived at Marseilles, Jimmy doing well. I _would_ see something of
the place, for I was true to my Monte Cristo, and insisted upon having a
glimpse of the Chateau d'If. We got in at night, and stayed at a
delightful hotel. Early in the morning I was up, and rather than I
should take Brown as courier, Jimmy (who resents Brown) was up early
too. We had breakfast together--for Aunt Mary stayed in bed--and went
out to walk. But it wasn't like going about with the Lightning
Conductor, who knows everything and has been everywhere before. We had
to inquire our way every minute, and shouldn't have known which things
were worth seeing if Monsieur Rathgeb, the landlord, hadn't told us to
be sure and go up the hill of Notre Dame de la Garde for the view; so we
went up in a lift, and it was glorious. Some soldiers marching on a
green boulevard below looked like tiny black-beetles, and the music of
their bugle band came floating faintly to us like sounds heard through a
gramophone. The Ile d'If and all the others were splendid from there,
and I would have liked to stay a long time, if Jimmy hadn't begun to be
tiresome and harangue me about the confidential way in which I treat
Brown. "Social distinctions," said he didactically, "are the bulwarks of
society." Ha, ha! I couldn't help laughing--could you in my place? I
told him I thought he would make a fortune as a lecturer, but lectures
weren't much in my line; and I asked if he'd ev