rt. "You are unhappy," he said; "come
to me, I shall-be so glad to have you."

She started. "No, it is impossible," she said, in a low voice; "he has
so many trials just now;" and she hurried away as if to escape some
temptation.

CHAPTER XX.~~THE WEDDING-PARTY.

It was a summer morning. The pedler and his comrade were up before
daybreak. One was sweeping and dusting, with as little noise as
possible, careful not to disturb his companion, who was established at
the open window. The sky was the cloudless one of June, pale blue with
a faint tinge of rose still lingering in the east, that could be seen
between the chimneys. In front of Jack was a zinc roof, which, when
the sun was in mid-heaven, became a terrible mirror. At this moment it
reflected faintly the tints of the sky, so that the tall chimneys looked
like the masts of a vessel floating on a glittering sea. Below was
heard the noise from the poultry owned by the various inhabitants of the
Faubourg. Suddenly a cry was heard: "Madame Jacob! Madame Mathieu! Here
is your bread."

It was four o'clock. The labors of the day had begun. The woman whose
daily business it was to supply that quarter with bread from the baker's
had begun her rounds. Her basket was filled with loaves of all sizes,
sweet-smelling and warm. She carries them all through the corridors,
placing them at the corners of the various doors; her shrill voice
aroused the sleepers; doors opened and shut; childish voices uttered
cries of joy, and little bare feet pattered to meet the good woman, and
returned hugging a loaf as big as themselves, with that peculiar gesture
that you see in the poor people who come out of the bake-shops,
and which shows the thoughtful observer what that hard-earned bread
signifies to them.

All the world is now astir; windows are thrown open, even those where
the lamps have burned the greater part of the night. At one sits a
sad-faced woman, at a sewing-machine, aided by a little girl, who hands
her the several pieces of her work. At another a young girl, with hair
already neatly braided, is carefully cutting a slice of bread for her
slender breakfast, watching that no crumb shall fall on the floor she
swept at daybreak. Further on is a window shaded by a large red curtain
to keep off the reflection from the zinc roof. All these rooms open
on the other side into a dark and ugly house of enormous size. But the
student heeds nothing but his work. One sound only depres