together down the dark avenue in front
of Madame Crochard. When they could no longer see the white net
cap, which showed as a speck through the leaves where the old woman
was--"Caroline!" said Roger in a tremulous voice, and with a beating
heart.

The girl was startled, and drew back a few steps, understanding the
invitation this question conveyed; however, she held out her hand, which
was passionately kissed, but which she hastily withdrew, for by standing
on tiptoe she could see her mother.

Madame Crochard affected blindness, as if, with a reminiscence of her
old parts, she was only required to figure as a supernumerary.

The adventures of these two young people were not continued in the Rue
du Tourniquet. To see Roger and Caroline once more, we must leap into
the heart of modern Paris, where, in some of the newly-built houses,
there are apartments that seem made on purpose for newly-married couples
to spend their honeymoon in. There the paper and paint are as fresh as
the bride and bridegroom, and the decorations are in blossom like their
love; everything is in harmony with youthful notions and ardent wishes.

Half-way down the Rue Taitbout, in a house whose stone walls were
still white, where the columns of the hall and the doorway were as yet
spotless, and the inner walls shone with the neat painting which our
recent intimacy with English ways had brought into fashion, there was,
on the second floor, a small set of rooms fitted by the architect as
though he had known what their use would be. A simple airy ante-room,
with a stucco dado, formed an entrance into a drawing-room and
dining-room. Out of the drawing-room opened a pretty bedroom, with a
bathroom beyond. Every chimney-shelf had over it a fine mirror elegantly
framed. The doors were crowded with arabesques in good taste, and the
cornices were in the best style. Any amateur would have discerned there
the sense of distinction and decorative fitness which mark the work of
modern French architects.

For above a month Caroline had been at home in this apartment, furnished
by an upholsterer who submitted to an artist's guidance. A short
description of the principal room will suffice to give us an idea of the
wonders it offered to Caroline's delighted eyes when Roger installed her
there. Hangings of gray stuff trimmed with green silk adorned the walls
of her bedroom; the seats, covered with light-colored woolen sateen,
were of easy and comfortable shapes