ate the human heart? Where is the shore so strewn with
wrecks as the heart with the broken memorials of passion which may
have long since swept over it? If Nature in its solitude affords
calm enjoyment, in its human development it affords matter for deeper
thought; if the view from the mountain-top, extending over hill
and dale, expand the mind, to stand above the wild tumult of a town
equally exalts the imagination and conveys knowledge, even while it
compels the gazer to pass out of himself.

As they approached a coffee-house on the same side of the street as
the Dom, Marguerite proposed to Dumiger to remain there, where they
could best see the dancing, and she drew a chair toward her.

"No, no, not here!" exclaimed Dumiger; and he took her across the
square to another house of greater reputation.

But it was not on this account that Dumiger preferred it, but because
it had a view of the Dom; he could there contemplate the space which
was left for the clock, of which he fondly believed he was making the
model. He pictured to himself that tower, the wonder and admiration
of the town; that on the spot where he was then sitting numbers would
crowd to view the wonderful machinery fashioned by his genius.

The history of the _cafe_ to which he took Marguerite was curious;
it had been opened not less than one hundred and twenty years without
being once entirely closed. It was, in point of fact, formed by two
houses, which were used alternately to allow of the necessary repairs
and cleansings. On such an occasion as the present they were both
thrown open,--the one part was for persons of the second rank, amongst
which Dumiger and Marguerite now classed themselves; the other was
reserved for the people of the higher order, for in this city of
popular institutions and liberal opinions the distinction of classes
was very strictly preserved.

Marguerite and Dumiger ordered some slight refreshment. Marguerite
was enjoying that repose which is so agreeable to the mind after the
sensation of strong happiness; Dumiger, with his head resting on his
hand, was gazing on the lofty tower of the Dom, and the light fleecy
clouds, which appeared to be almost attracted by the glittering vane.
At that moment a rude hand slapped his shoulder.

"You here, Dumiger!" said Carl. "Why, Confound it, man. I thought you
were poring over dull tomes of the University library, or worshiping
a saint" and he took off his hat to Marguerite. "Here is K