s so well
the peaceful and matter-of-fact life of the bourgeoisie. No signs
of commerce were to be seen; on the other hand, the luxurious
porte-cocheres of the rich were few, and those few turned seldom on
their hinges, excepting that of Monsieur Martener, a physician, whose
profession obliged him to keep a cabriolet, and to use it. A few of the
house-fronts were covered by grape vines, others by roses climbing to
the second-story windows, through which they wafted the fragrance of
their scattered bunches. One end of the square enters the main street of
the Lower Town, the gardens of which reach to the bank of one of the two
rivers which water the valley of Provins. The other end of the square
enters a street which runs parallel to the main street.

At the latter, which was also the quietest end of the square, the young
workman recognized the house of which he was in search, which showed a
front of white stone grooved in lines to represent courses, windows with
closed gray blinds, and slender iron balconies decorated with rosettes
painted yellow. Above the ground floor and the first floor were three
dormer windows projecting from a slate roof; on the peak of the central
one was a new weather-vane. This modern innovation represented a hunter
in the attitude of shooting a hare. The front door was reached by three
stone steps. On one side of this door a leaden pipe discharged the
sink-water into a small street-gutter, showing the whereabouts of the
kitchen. On the other side were two windows, carefully closed by gray
shutters in which were heart-shaped openings cut to admit the light;
these windows seemed to be those of the dining-room. In the elevation
gained by the three steps were vent-holes to the cellar, closed by
painted iron shutters fantastically cut in open-work. Everything was
new. In this repaired and restored house, the fresh-colored look of
which contrasted with the time-worn exteriors of all the other houses,
an observer would instantly perceive the paltry taste and perfect
self-satisfaction of the retired petty shopkeeper.

The young man looked at these details with an expression of pleasure
that seemed to have something rather sad in it; his eyes roved from the
kitchen to the roof, with a motion that showed a deliberate purpose.
The rosy glow of the rising sun fell on a calico curtain at one of the
garret windows, the others being without that luxury. As he caught sight
of it the young fellow's face bright