The _Magasins du Louvre_ stretch far under the Hotel, from the Rue de
Rivoli to the Rue Saint-Honore. Year after year has the stretching
process continued; but now the great company of linen drapers and
hosiers have all the space that can be spared them. The endless lines of
customers' carriages in the Rue Saint-Honore and on the _Place_ opposite
Prince Napoleon's palace betoken the marvellous trade going on within.

The father of the English family here turned his back upon the great
shop, and glancing towards the Louvre and the Church of Saint Germain
l'Auxerrois, exclaimed--"Marvellous scene! A sight not to be equalled in
the world. Yonder is the old church, the bell of which tolled the----"

"You're making a laughing-stock of yourself," Mrs. Cockayne exclaims,
taking her husband firmly by the arm. "One would think you were an hotel
guide, or a walking handbook, or--or a beadle or showman. What do you
want to know about the massacre of St. Bartholomew now? There'll not be
a mantle or a pair of gloves left. Come in--do! You can go gesticulating
about the streets with Carrie to-morrow, if you choose; but do contrive
to behave like an ordinary mortal to-day."

Mr. Cockayne resigned himself. He plunged into the magnificent shop. He
was dragged into the crowd that was defiling past the fifteen-sous
counter, where the goods lay in great tumbled masses on the floor and
upon the counter. He was surprised to see the shopmen standing upon the
counter, and, with marvellous rapidity, telling off the yards of the
cheap fabrics to the ladies and gentlemen who were pressing before them
in an unbroken line. Beyond were the packers. Beyond again, was the
office where payment was made, each person having a note or ticket, with
the article bought, showing the sum due. A grave official marshalled the
customer to the pay-place. There was wonderful order in the seeming
confusion. The admirable system of the establishment was equal to the
emergency. An idea of the continuous flow of the crowd past the silk
and mixed fabric counters may be got from the fact that many ladies
waited three and four hours for their turn to be served. One Parisian
lady told Mrs. Cockayne that, after waiting four hours in the crowd, she
had gone home to lunch, and had returned to try her fortune a second
time.

Poor Cockayne! He was absolutely bewildered. His endeavours to steer the
"three daughters of Albion" who were under his charge, in the right
directi