effect of a cottage embosomed in trees, from which rickety steps,
moss-grown and picturesquely studded with flowers, led down to the
river. One of Isabey's delicious water-colors, dropped here without his
signature. Louise--for art, no matter how humble, always expands the
mind--has a taste for the beauties of nature, wanting in nearly her
whole sex. A flower-stand filled with roses best pleases the majority of
women, who cultivate a love of flowers in order to provoke anacreontic
and obsolete comparisons from their antiquated admirers.

The banks of the Seine are truly enchanting. The graceful hills are
studded with trees and waving corn-fields; here and there a rock peeps
picturesquely forth; cottages and distant chateaux are betrayed by their
glittering slate roofs; islets as wild as those of the South Sea rise on
the bosom of the waters like verdure-clad rafts, and no Captain Cook has
ever mentioned these Otaheites a half-day's journey from Paris.

Louise intelligently and feelingly admired the shading of the foliage,
the water rippled by a slight breeze, the rapid flight of the
kingfisher, the languid swaying to and fro of the water-lily, the
little forget-me-nots opening their timid blue eyes to the morning sun,
and all the thousand and one beauties dotted along the river's bank. I
let her steep her soul in nature's loveliness, which could only teach
her to love.

In about four hours we reached the Andelys, and after a light lunch of
fresh eggs, cream, strawberries and cherries, we began the ascent to the
fortress of the brave king Richard.

Alfred got along famously with Madame Taverneau, having completely
dazzled her by an account of his high social acquaintance. During the
voyage he had repeated more names than can be found in the Royal
Almanac. The good post-mistress listened with respectful deference,
delighted at finding herself in company with such a highly connected
individual. Alfred, who is not accustomed, among us, to benevolent
listeners, gave himself up to the delight of being able to talk without
fear of interruption from jests and ironical puns. They had charmed each
other.

The stronghold of Richard Coeur-de-Lion recalls, by its situation and
architecture, the castles of the Rhine. The stone-work is so confounded
with the rock that it is impossible to say where nature's work ends or
man's work begins.

We climbed, Louise and I, in spite of the steep ascent, the loose
stones, over the rampar