The Children's Pilgrimage by L.T. Meade

From London to Paris is no distance at all. The most delicate invalid can scarcely be fatigued by so slight a journey.

So you say, who go comfortably for a pleasure trip. You start at a reasonably early hour in the morning, and arrive at your destination in time for dinner. A few of you, no doubt, may dread that short hour and a half spent on the Channel. But even its horrors are mitigated by large steamers and kind and attentive attendants, and as for the rest of the journey, it is nothing, not worth mentioning in these days of rushing over the world.