warm
there; the hall would have made a capital cellar. And the couples slowly
advanced, their chins raised, their eyes blinking, between the gigantic
stone figures, the black marble gods, dumb in their hieratic rigidity,
and the monstrous beasts, half cats and half women, with death-like
faces, attenuated noses, and swollen lips. They thought all these things
very ugly. The stone carvings of the present day were a great deal
better. An inscription in Phoenician characters amazed them. No one
could possibly have ever read that scrawl. But Monsieur Madinier,
already up on the first landing with Madame Lorilleux, called to them,
shouting beneath the vaulted ceiling:

"Come along! They're nothing, all those things! The things to see are on
the first floor!"

The severe barrenness of the staircase made them very grave. An
attendant, superbly attired in a red waistcoat and a coat trimmed with
gold lace, who seemed to be awaiting them on the landing, increased
their emotion. It was with great respect, and treading as softly as
possible, that they entered the French Gallery.

Then, without stopping, their eyes occupied with the gilding of the
frames, they followed the string of little rooms, glancing at the
passing pictures too numerous to be seen properly. It would have
required an hour before each, if they had wanted to understand it. What
a number of pictures! There was no end to them. They must be worth a
mint of money. Right at the end, Monsieur Madinier suddenly ordered a
halt opposite the "Raft of the Medusa" and he explained the subject to
them. All deeply impressed and motionless, they uttered not a word. When
they started off again, Boche expressed the general feeling, saying it
was marvellous.

In the Apollo Gallery, the inlaid flooring especially astonished the
party--a shining floor, as clear as a mirror, and which reflected the
legs of the seats. Mademoiselle Remanjou kept her eyes closed, because
she could not help thinking that she was walking on water. They
called to Madame Gaudron to be careful how she trod on account of
her condition. Monsieur Madinier wanted to show them the gilding and
paintings of the ceiling; but it nearly broke their necks to look up
above, and they could distinguish nothing. Then, before entering the
Square Salon, he pointed to a window, saying:

"That's the balcony from which Charles IX. fired on the people."

He looked back to make sure the party was following. In the middle
o