vely, and suggestive of historical romance in all its remote corners, its oddly-shaped houses, its by-ways and crooked litt

," dating from the time of Francis the First, and bearing on its sculptured walls the story of the Field of the Cloth of Gold, in company with the strangely-contrasting "Allegories", from Petrarch's "Triumphs", is enough in itself to keep the mind engrossed with fanciful musings for an hour. How did Petrarch and the Field of the Cloth of Gold come together in the brain of the sculptor who long ago worked at these ancient bas-reliefs? One wonders, but the wonder is in vain,-there is no explanation;-and the "Bourgtheroulde" remains a pleasing and fantastic architectura

s, acted unworthily of his calling? Had he not almost uttered blasphemy? Grieved and puzzled, the good Felix went on his way, almost unseeingly, towards the humble inn where he had elected to remain for the brief period of his visit to Rouen,-an inn where no one stayed save the very poorest of travellers, this fact being its chief recommendation in the eyes of the Cardinal. For it must be conceded, that viewed by our latter-day ideas of personal comfort and convenience, the worthy prelate had some very old-world and fantastic notions. One of these notions was a devout feeling that he should, so far as it was humanly possible, endeavour to obey the Master whose doctrine he professed to follow. This, it will be admitted, was a curious idea. Considering the bold and blasphemous laxit

under the sunlit or starlit expanse of heaven, that the god in us can live; and it was not without some su

easy growing of potatoes and celery-his wife had her hands full with the domestic business of the hotel and the cares of her two children, Henri and Babette, the most incorrigible imps of mischief that ever lived in Rouen or out of it. Madame Patoux, large of body, unwieldy in movement, but clean as a new pin, and with a fat smile of perpetual contentment on her round visage, professed to be utterly worn to death by the antics of these children of hers,-but nevertheless she managed to grow stouter every day with a persistency and fortitude which denoted the reserved forces of her nature,-and her cooking, always excellent, never went wrong because Babette had managed to put her doll in one of the saucepans, or Henri had essayed to swim a paper boat in the soup. Things went on somehow; Patoux himself was perfectly satisfied with his small earnings and position in life-Madame Patoux felt that "le bon Dieu" was specially engaged in looking after her,-and as long as the wicked Babette and the wickeder Henri threw themselves wildly into her arms and clung round her fat neck imploring pardon

poor little place! There are many new houses on the Boulevards which could have accommodated Monseigneur with every comfort,-and that he should condescend

Cardinal waived aside her excuses and protestations, and calling her "My daughter", signed the cross on her br

i and Babette like two little roly-poly balls before her into the kitchen, she told them with much emphasis that there was a saint in the house,-a saint fit to be the holy companion of any of those who had their niches up in the Cathedral near the great rose-window,-and that if th

ere's a boy in our sch

it's no use having pr

t's all rubbi

murderer, be sure of that, Henri!-and thou, who art trained in all thy holy duties by the good Pere Laurent, who teaches thee everything which the school is not wise enough to teach, oug

looked at him and made a

ttle Fabien Doucet has been lame for seven years; we shall bring him to Monseigneur, a

from the fire over which she was bending, a

hness? Mon Dieu!-is it possible to be so wicked! But listen to me well!-If you presume to say one saucy word to Monseigneur, you

kly and diseased-" began the irrepressible Henri, when his

naughty speeches! All this evil comes of the school,-I wo

st without warning into loud and fitful weeping, the sound whereof resembled the yelling of a tortured savage,-and

intonation even in the midst of the uproar, and Cardinal Bonpre, tall and s

red amazed at the venerable Felix, whose face and figure expressed such composed dignity and sweetnes

ssed Virgin only knows!" she groaned-"For even now they are so suspicious

tatement made with so much distressed fervour by their angry mother,-but the

his so-called servants. Come here, ma mignonne!" he continued, calling Babette, who approached him with a curious air of half-timid boldness-"Thou art but a very little girl," he said, laying his thin white hand softly on her tumbled brown curls-"Nevertheless, I should be a very foolish old man if I despised thee, or thy thoughts, or thy desire to know the

t the door. Babette, grown strangely serious, turned to her brother and held out her hand, mov

l!" she whispered imper

v

ouse and across the Square into the silence and darkness of Notre Dame. Their mother watched their little plump figures disappear with a feeling of mingled amazement

was Papa Patoux; he had no ideas at all in his bullet head save that he judged everything to be very well managed in the Universe, and that he, considered simply as Patoux, was lucky in his life and labours,-also that it was an easy thing to grow celery, provided God's blessing was on the soil. For the rest, he took small care; he knew that the world wagged in different ways in different climates,-he read his half-penny journal daily, and professed to be interested in the political situation just for the fun of the thing, but in reality he thought the French Senate a pack of fools, and wondered what they meant by always talking so much about nothing. He believed in "La Patrie" to a certain extent,-but he would have very much objected if "La Patrie" had interfered with his celery. Roughly sneaking, he understood that France was a nati

You cannot expect mere men to do their duty wisely without God on their side. But Pere Laurent

nday afternoons Pere Laurent, a kindly, simple-hearted old priest, took them, with several other little creatures "educated by the State", an

cynics before their time, they were still sustained within bounds by the saving sense of something better than themselves,-that Something Better which silently declares itself in the beauty of the skies, the blossoming of

er his entire household. His wife's fat face was agreeably placid,-the children were in an orderly mood, and as he sat down to the neatly spread supper-table, he felt more convinced th

Cardinal Bonpre,-has

ened her round e

cabbage, thou wouldst get thy food before

d his ladleful of so

violets were growing,-and late in the autumn though it is, there was a skylark yet singing. It was a very

ught Papa Patoux inclined to be poetical,

Lady is always bl

lothes are always

a second helping of soup all round. Pap

the colours of the sky, my little ones,-an

les of air, and in the air there are millions and millions of planets turning round and round,

knows which is the largest of them all, but whichever it may b

d did not return his enquiring glances. Papa Patoux, quite satisfied wi

air, as though she were some delicate and dainty sylph of the woodlands, instead of being the lady o

shook her head

rwards nothing but bread, dried figs, and apples to finish. Ah, Heaven!

dered the ma

very poor?" h

is surely his own fault,-whoever heard of a poor Cardin

ri with sudden vivaci

inn, and a tall broadly built personage in close canonical attire appeared in the narrow little

scrambled out

whispered to his wife

bish

ing her children, held one in eac

air with a sociable smile-"Do not disturb yourselves, my childr

x-"Only just now he has finished his little

till smiling benevolently-"And permit my se

ed him, he graciously permitted Madame Patoux to humbly precede him by a few steps, and then followed her with a soft, even tre

two somewhat embarrassed. Henri and Babette stared at the stranger with undisg

eyelashes!" wh

teeth," resp

is bullet-head sufficiently over the

sir," he

tion. Patoux again meditated. He was not skilled in the art of

and an irreverance perhaps to smoke

secretary with anothe

-at your service! And

ke at your distingu

ough he could not quite imagine why he found it so. He slowly reached for his pipe from the projecting

n the town, Monsieur Cazeau," he said-

t much frequent the streets; and I only attend the first early

must be much to do. Many poor and sick who need money, and clothes, and help in every way,-and to try

s together with an action o

e Laurent to speak to Monseigneur for her, that she might be released from the devils that are tearing her. She was a good girl till a year o

g a grimy finger at Cazeau-"Why did

suddenly sat down again with an air of impatience and discomfort. He rapidly overcame whatever emoti

condescendingly-"and tall for you

-"But that has nothing

uch amused-"But my jumping had nothing to do with you either, my sm

and Henri looked incredulous. "D

ly, between two whiffs of his pipe-"Excuse

rithed a

irl-his sister-is also charming-Ah, what fine dark

e, but she merely made a grimace at him and

like strangers

y from strangers, especially strangers of my sex," observed Cazeau

his mouth altogether, and st

ty, but no good that I can see. They know much about geography, and the stars, and anatomy, and what they call physical sciences;-but whether they have got it into thei

-"You have a high opinion of Pere Laurent? Ah, y

down from the ceiling and fix

ime engaged in conversation with Cardinal Bonpre, and that therefore he, Monsieur Cazeau, need not wait,-Monseigneur would return to his house alone. Whereupon the secretary r

cerning the case you told me of-that of-of Marguerite

Archbishop's house in a stealthy sort of fashion, as though h

y executing a sort of reasonless war-dance ro

nce had a tame white rat which sat on her knee and took food f

st into a

d-"What dost thou know about

r, as of a person who has suffered by bitter experience; and

d I will not kiss them, because their mouths smell bad. They stroke my hair and pull it all the wrong way. And it hurts. And when I don't like my

d-night to thy father, Henri;-give them thy blessing, Jean-and let me get them into their beds before the

somewhat difficult to define, but it can be safely asserted that a passion of tears on the part of Babette, and a fit of demoniacal howling from Henri, would have been the inevitable result if Papa Patoux had refused to bestow it on them. Whether there were virtue in it o

an angel, is he?" ask

er smile

ttle one. Why such

nd that perhaps we should see an angel come d

interpolated Henri, scornfully,-"He came from his own house over the

he mother carrying a lighted candle behind them, and at that moment the rich sonorous voice of the Archbishop, raised to a hig

ed away into inau

he Archbishop is angry!"

do not like saints,

little silly," said Madame Patoux-"Therefore those gr

e always for fighting HIS little brother. His little brother is six, and he is twelve;-and of course he always knocks his little brother down. He cannot help it, he says. And he gets books on physiology and heredity, and he learns in them that whatever is IN

ers, and afterwards bundling him into bed,-where, being sleepy, he speedily forgot all that he had been trying to talk about. Babette took

ering at herself in the small mirror when her thick locks wer

woman," said Madame Patoux energetically

about her even now, and put her in all the histories, and

patient-"Foolish people run after bad women, and bad

usual evening formula, heaving a small sigh after her "act of contrition," and looking almost

ur Lady and the saints, and then ask the

hters of Eve to whom conquest does not seem a finer thing than humility; and the sovereignty of Diane de Poitiers over a king, seems to many a girl just conscio