The disadvantage is, beyond doubt, with us; since the _froissement_ was
produced by the British lack of that suavity which the French
cultivate--and which may be hollow, but is pleasant, and oils the wheels
of life.

[Illustration: ROBINSON CRUSOE AND FRIDAY.

_From French designs._]

Mrs. Rowe's was in the Rue--say the Rue Millevoye, so that we may not
interfere with possible vested interests. Was it respectable? Was it
genteel? Did good country families frequent it? Were all the comforts of
an English home to be had? Had Mrs. Grundy cast an approving eye into
every nook and corner? Of course there were Bibles in the bedrooms; and
you were not made to pay a franc for every cake of soap. Mrs. Rowe had
her tea direct from Twinings'. Twinings' tea she had drunk through her
better time, when Rowe had one of the finest houses in all Shepherd's
Bush, and come what might, Twinings' tea she would drink while she was
permitted to drink tea at all. Brown Windsor--no other soap for Mrs.
Rowe, if you please. People who wanted any of the fanciful soaps of
Rimmel or Piver must buy them. Brown Windsor was all she kept. Yes, she
was obliged to have Gruyère--and people did ask occasionally for
Roquefort; but her opinion was that the person who did not prefer a good
Cheshire to any other cheese, deserved to go without any. She had been
twenty-one years in Paris, and seven times only had she missed morning
service on Sundays. Hereupon, a particular history of each occasion, and
the superhuman difficulty which had bound Mrs. Rowe hand and foot to the
Rue Millevoye from eleven till one. She had a faithful note of a
beautiful sermon preached in the year 1850 by the Rev. John Bobbin, in
which he compared life to a boarding-house. He was staying with Mrs.