olute ruler of Mr. Cockayne. "I confess I can't make them out. They beat me. My dear, they are the most independent set
d, in an unguarded moment, to ask, putting aside for a
us an hour this morning to accompany us to the Magasins du Louvre. We would not ask you,
terposed, "but a good many, visit these wonderful shops. I confess I nev
Cockayne observed. "They were built abo
papa is off with his lecture. I shall put on my bon
be led off like a lamb to the slaughter. Were not the silks marked at ridiculously low prices? Was not the shawl-room a sight more than equal to anything t
than she was, both for herself and the children, and that was her reward. She had to undergo the most humiliating process of asking point-bl
Mr. Cockayne a
en who were subjected by fate to his cruel tyranny-perhaps he would inform them when it wo
the despairing Cockayne, rubbin
coming with us," So
dear. I am prepared for anything, I believe; but your father
Cockayne, grimly,
way. I must suffer the indignity for your sakes, of saying to your father, I shall want some money for the purchases your m
d Mr. Cockayne headed the procession throu
"It's positively disgraceful, straggling out in this way. But I
y walked along the Rue de la Paix, across the Place Vend?me, into the Rue Castiglione. Mrs. Cockayne followed wi
ed before the door
rs. Cockayne, pausing at the door, while her husb
he window, answered, "He is
la
adiant from Mr. John
is heartiest voice; "there, my dea
it. Perhaps we can manage our s
world," gaily said Cockayne, puttin
Museum of Artillery this afternoon, to see wh
ng, by the way, why people stared at him in his plaid suit, and at his daughter in her brown hat and blue veil. Mrs. Cockayne wonde
f the Grand H?tel du Louvre, they found
cess continued; but now the great company of linen drapers and hosiers have all the space that can be spared them. The endless lines of cu
ds the Louvre and the Church of Saint Germain l'Auxerrois, exclaimed-"Marvellous scene! A sig
alking handbook, or-or a beadle or showman. What do you want to know about the massacre of St. Bartholomew now? There'll not be a mantle or a pair of gloves
s and gentlemen who were pressing before them in an unbroken line. Beyond were the packers. Beyond again, was the office where payment was made, each person having a note or ticket, with the article bought, showing the sum due. A grave official marshalled the customer to the pay-place. There was wonderful order in the seeming confusion. The admirable system of the establish
t direction, were painful to witness. First he threaded corridors, then he was in the carpet gallery, and now he was in the splendid, the p
very fine!" cried the ladies. "How
n waves. Now they were encompassed with shawls; an
help of Sophonisba's French, which was a source of considerable
is a palace dedicated to
care of the parcels. Yon know better, of c
y the endless stream of customers into
would have been impo
fe; "this is the lace department. We mus
," was sauc
hantilly, and made her lord, as she expressed
ring as the lace department; and here aga
d found themselves in the salons devoted to made linen, where Mrs. Cockayne hoped her husband would not make his daughters blush with what he considered
of wonder. He was hushed in the splendour of the shawl gallery-where all is solid oak and glass and rich gold, and where the weari
Pater, as he emerged in th
s wife replied, pointing to the palace where the art
rand opportunity for emptying one's pocket. The cheapness is positively
really think, girls, your father is gradually-mind, I
ising her eyes from a volume on Paris in the M
urse I know-and if I didn't,
heaved a deep sigh
the morrow-and his wife and da
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