ry
window. There were many improprieties, and some indecencies, shocking to
English sensibilities. In the Rue de Grace I saw two nuns in their hoods
and veils, unloading a cart full of manure. A ladies' school for English
people in a town like this seemed ridiculous.

There was no difficulty in finding the houses in my photographic view.
There were two of them, one standing in the street, the other lying back
beyond a very pleasant garden. A Frenchman was pacing up and down the
broad gravel-path which connected them, smoking a cigar, and examining
critically the vines growing against the walls. Two little children were
gambolling about in close white caps, and with frocks down to their
heels. Upon seeing me, he took his cigar from his lips with two fingers
of one hand, and lifted his hat with the other. I returned the
salutation with a politeness as ceremonious as his own.

"Monsieur is an Englishman?" he said, in a doubtful tone.

"From the Channel Islands," I replied.

"Ah! you belong to us," he said, "but you are hybrid, half English, half
French; a fine race. I also have English blood in my veins."

I paid monsieur a compliment upon the result of the admixture of blood
in his own instance, and then proceeded to unfold my object in visiting
him.

"Ah!" he said, "yes, yes, yes; Perrier was an impostor. These houses are
mine, monsieur. I live in the front, yonder; my daughter and son-in-law
occupy the other. We had the photographs taken for our own pleasure, but
Perrier must have bought them from the artist, no doubt. I have a small
cottage at the back of my house; voila, monsieur! there it is. Perrier
rented it from me for two hundred francs a year. I permitted him to pass
along this walk, and through our coach-house into a passage which leads
to the street where madame had her school. Permit me, and I will show it
to you."

He led me through a shed, and along a dirty, vaulted passage, into a
mean street at the back. A small, miserable-looking house stood in it,
shut up, with broken _persiennes_ covering the windows. My heart sank at
the idea of Olivia living here, in such discomfort, and neglect, and
sordid poverty.

"Did you ever see a young English lady here, monsieur?" I asked; "she
arrived about the beginning of last November."

"But yes, certainly, monsieur," he replied, "a charming English
demoiselle! One must have been blind not to observe her. A face sweet
and _gracieuse_; with hair of gold, but a