s beloved Paris, he would feel like a foreigner
there; and Thackeray, who was among us but yesterday, would have
difficulty in finding his bearings in the sea of the London world to-day.

We have changed so radically that even a casual observer cannot help
being struck by the difference. Among other most significant "phenomena"
has appeared a phase of life that not only neither of these great men
observed (for the very good reason that it had not appeared in their
time), but which seems also to have escaped the notice of the writers of
our own day, close observers as they are of any new development. I mean
the class of Social Exiles, pitiable wanderers from home and country, who
haunt the Continent, and are to be found (sad little colonies) in out-of-
the-way corners of almost every civilized country.

To know much of this form of modern life, one must have been a wanderer,
like myself, and have pitched his tent in many queer places; for they are
shy game and not easily raised, frequenting mostly quiet old cities like
Versailles and Florence, or inexpensive watering-places where their
meagre incomes become affluence by contrast. The first thought on
dropping in on such a settlement is, "How in the world did these people
ever drift here?" It is simple enough and generally comes about in this
way:

The father of a wealthy family dies. The fortune turns out to be less
than was expected. The widow and children decide to go abroad for a year
or so, during their period of mourning, partially for distraction, and
partially (a fact which is not spoken of) because at home they would be
forced to change their way of living to a simpler one, and that is hard
to do, just at first. Later they think it will be quite easy. So the
family emigrates, and after a little sight-seeing, settles in Dresden or
Tours, casually at first, in a hotel. If there are young children they
are made the excuse. "The languages are so important!" Or else one of
the daughters develops a taste for music, or a son takes up the study of
art. In a year or two, before a furnished apartment is taken, the idea
of returning is discussed, but abandoned "for the present." They begin
vaguely to realize how difficult it will be to take life up again at
home. During all this time their income (like everything else when the
owners are absent) has been slowly but surely disappearing, making the
return each year more difficult. Finally, for economy, an unfu