sure we have been into twenty shops," said Theodosia.

"And I am sure," Mrs. Cockayne continued, "it is quite refreshing, after
the boorish manners of your London shopkeepers, to be waited upon by
these polite Frenchmen. They behave like noblemen."

"Mamma has had fifty compliments paid to her in the course of the day, I
am certain," said Sophonisba.

"I am very glad to hear it," said Sophonisba's papa.

"Glad to hear it, and surprised also, I suppose, Mr. Cockayne! In London
twenty compliments have to last a lady her lifetime."

"I don't know how it is," Theodosia observed, "but the tradespeople here
have a way of doing things that is enchanting. We went into an imition
jeweller's in the Rue Vivienne--and such imitations! I'll defy Mrs.
Sandhurst--and you know how ill-natured she is--to tell some earrings
and brooches we saw from real gold and jewels. Well, what do you think
was the sign of the shop, which was arranged more like a drawing-room
than a tradesman's place of business; why, it was called L'Ombre du Vrai
(the Shadow of Truth). Isn't it quite poetical?"

Mr. Cockayne thought he saw his opportunity for an oratorical flourish.

"It has been observed, my dear Theo," said he, dipping the fingers of
his right hand into the palm of his left, "by more than one acute
observer, that the mind of the race whose country we are now----"

Here Mrs. Cockayne rapped sharply the marble table before her with the
end of her parasol, and said--

"Mr. Cockayne, have you ordered any dinner for us?"

Mr. Cockayne meekly gave it up, and replied that he had secured places
for the party at the _table d'hote_.

Satisfied on this score, the matron proceeded to inform that person whom
in pleasant irony she called her lord and master, that she had set her
heart on a brooch of the loveliest design it had ever been her good
fortune to behold.

"At the _L'Ombre_--what do you call it, my dear?" said the husband,
blandly.

Mrs. Cockayne went through that stiffening process which ladies of
dignity call drawing themselves up.

"You really surprise me, Mr. Cockayne. If you mean it as a joke, I would
have you know that people don't joke with their wives; and I should
think you ought to know by this time that I am not in the habit of
wearing imitation jewellery."

"I ought," briefly responded Cockayne; and then he rapidly continued, in
order to ward off the fire he knew his smart rejoinder would provoke--

"Tell me where it was,