The Parisians, Book 1.

ave wondered where Toil was at work, and in what nook Poverty lurked concealed. A millionaire from the London Exchange, as he looked round on the magasins, the equipages, the dresses of the women; a

any of the scattered l

fes and restaurant

that in his aspect and bearing which caught attention. He looked a somebody; but though unmistakably a Frenchman, not a Parisian. His dress was not in the prevailing mode: to a practised eye it

their pedigree and blazon, the nobility of form and face. He was tall and well shaped, with graceful length of limb and fall of shoulders; his face was handsome, of the purest type of French masculine beauty,-the nose inclined to be aquiline, and delicately thin, with finely-cut open nostrils; the complexion clear,-the eyes large, of a light hazel, with dark lashes, -the hair of a ches

ace, of which all the lower part was enveloped in black beard; and slightly lifting his hat, with a gesture of the head that implied, "Sir, you are mistaken; I have not the honour to know you," continued his slow indifferent way. The would-be acquaintance was not so easily rebuffed. "Peste," he said

if I am wrong. Put s

f the Marquis

, sir

mber me, your old co

erc

charged the whole character of his countenance. "My dear Frederic, m

ewhat satirically, as, linking his arm in his new-found fr

rd a fortnight,

chebriant. I passed it yesterday, admiring its v

not belong to me; it was sol

ive years. And how is your father? Still the same polished grand seigneur? I never saw him but once, you know; and

d Alain, gravely; "he has b

is de Rochebriant, a great historical name, worth a large sum in the m

e, no-a venera

amusement to restore them. You will restore yours, without doubt. I will introduce yo

a college friend, his face showed that it could

re solid: they have weathered the storms of six centurie

iant! It is an infernal thing to come into the world a Lemercier. I am a democrat, of course. A Lemercier would be in a false position if he were not. But if any one would leave me twenty acres of land, with some antique right to the De and

t engaged; my range of acquaintance is

ot often the case, for I am in some request in my own set, though it

estaurant at Paris, except a very

ou lodge?" "Rue de l'U

Leave it to me; I'll find you a charming apartment. I know one to be had a bargain,-a bagatelle,-five hundred naps a-year. Cost you about two or three thousand more to furnish tolerably, not showily. Leave all to me.

orses and no coupe. I shall not change my apartment." As he

tagne. Most likely, with all his innocence of the Faubourg St. Germain, he knows enough of it to be aware that I, Frederic Lemercier, am not the man to patron

at Paris a life which you certainly will not envy;" then, evidently desirous to change the subject, he said in a livelier tone, "But what a marvellous city this Paris of ours is! Remember I had never seen it before: it burst on me like a city in the Arabian Nights two weeks ago. And that which strikes me most-I say it wit

ving ambition open to you under the Empire, you never were more mistaken. 'Moyen age,' and even rococo, are all the rage. You have no idea how valuable yo

s a good- tempered lion may look upon a lively poodle who takes a liberty with his mane, and after a pause he replied curtly, "The clothes I wear at Paris were made in Bretagne; and if the name of Rocheb

s!-it is too much!-the best joke. My dear, Alain, there is some of the best blood of Europe in the Jockey Club; they would exclude a plain bourgeois like me. But it is all the same: in one respect you are quite right. W