ne. The general effect of the church is
poor and mean, and the most vivid impression left upon the mind is that
caused by the sharp climb up the narrow street and flight of steps, with
little reward beyond one's trouble for the pains of mounting.

But other churches in the neighbourhood of Morlaix are well worth
visiting; churches typical of the Finistere, with their wonderful
calvaries, mortuaries and triumphal arches.

"These," said Monsieur Hellard, our host of the Hotel d'Europe, who had,
by this time, fully atoned for the transgressions of that one and almost
fatal night--"these must on no account be neglected. Morlaix, more than
any other town in the Finistere, as it seems to me, is surrounded by
objects of intense interest; monuments of antiquity, both secular and
religious."

"Yet you are not the chief town of the Finistere," we observed.

"True," he replied; "Quimper is our chief town; we are only second in
rank; but in many ways we are more interesting than Quimper."

"You are partial," cried H.C., but very amiably. "What about Quimper's
wonderful cathedral? Where can you match that architectural dream in
Morlaix?"

"There, indeed, I give in," returned our host, meekly. "Morlaix has
nothing to boast of in the way of churches, thanks to the revolution.
But in the neighbourhood, each within the limits of a day's excursion,
we have St. Thegonnec, Guimiliau, St. Jean-du-Doigt--and last and
greatest of all--Le Folgoet. Besides these, we have a host of minor but
interesting excursions."

"The minor must be left to the future," we replied; "for the present we
must confine ourselves to the major monuments."

"One can't do everything," chimed in Madame Hellard, who came up at the
moment. "I never recommend small excursions unless you are making a long
stay in the neighbourhood. It becomes too tiring. We had a charming
English family with us last year; a milord, very rich--they are all
rich--with a sweetly amiable wife, who made herself in the hotel quite
one of ourselves, and would chatter with us in my bureau by the hour
together. Mon cher"--to her husband--"do you remember how they enjoyed
the regatta, and seeing all the natives turn out in their Sunday
clothes; and how Madame laughed at the old women who fried the pancakes
upon their knees in the open air; and the boys and girls who took them
up hot and buttery in their fingers and devoured them like savages? Do
you remember?"

Monsieur Hellard apparently