not but admire the beautiful villa of the bottle-dealer, standing in a
park of five acres at the summit of Ville d'Avray, commanding a noble
view of the landscape. Marry Virginie, and have that beautiful villa
some day for his own!

He was received by the Vervelles with an enthusiasm, a joy, a
kindliness, a frank bourgeois absurdity which confounded him. It was
indeed a day of triumph. The prospective son-in-law was marched about
the grounds on the nankeen-colored paths, all raked as they should be
for the steps of so great a man. The trees themselves looked brushed
and combed, and the lawns had just been mown. The pure country air
wafted to the nostrils a most enticing smell of cooking. All things
about the mansion seemed to say:

"We have a great artist among us."

Little old Vervelle himself rolled like an apple through his park, the
daughter meandered like an eel, the mother followed with dignified
step. These three beings never let go for one moment of Pierre Grassou
for seven hours. After dinner, the length of which equalled its
magnificence, Monsieur and Madame Vervelle reached the moment of their
grand theatrical effect,--the opening of the picture gallery
illuminated by lamps, the reflections of which were managed with the
utmost care. Three neighbours, also retired merchants, an old uncle
(from whom were expectations), an elderly Demoiselle Vervelle, and a
number of other guests invited to be present at this ovation to a
great artist followed Grassou into the picture gallery, all curious to
hear his opinion of the famous collection of pere Vervelle, who was
fond of oppressing them with the fabulous value of his paintings. The
bottle-merchant seemed to have the idea of competing with King