f him, streaming
with carmine; a colossal, pallid, religious picture on his left;
a Government order, the commonplace delineation of some official
festivity, on the right; and then a variety of portraits, landscapes,
and indoor scenes, all glaring sharply amid the fresh gilding of their
frames. However, the fear which he retained of the folks usually present
at this solemnity led him to direct his glances upon the gradually
increasing crowd. On a circular settee in the centre of the gallery,
from which sprang a sheaf of tropical foliage, there sat three ladies,
three monstrously fat creatures, attired in an abominable fashion, who
had settled there to indulge in a whole day's backbiting. Behind him
he heard somebody crushing harsh syllables in a hoarse voice. It was an
Englishman in a check-pattern jacket, explaining the massacre scene to
a yellow woman buried in the depths of a travelling ulster. There were
some vacant spaces; groups of people formed, scattered, and formed again
further on; all heads were raised; the men carried walking-sticks and
had overcoats on their arms, the women strolled about slowly, showing
distant profiles as they stopped before the pictures; and Claude's
artistic eye was caught by the flowers in their hats and bonnets, which
seemed very loud in tint amid the dark waves of the men's silk hats.
He perceived three priests, two common soldiers who had found their
way there no one knew whence, some endless processions of gentlemen
decorated with the ribbon of the Legion of Honour, and troops of girls
and their mothers, who constantly impeded the circulation. However, a
good many of these people knew each other; there were smiles and bows
from afar, at times a rapid handshake in passing. And conversation was
carried on in a discreet tone of voice, above which rose the continuous
tramping of feet.

Then Claude began to look for his own picture. He tried to find his way
by means of the initial letters inscribed above the entrances of the
galleries, but made a mistake, and went through those on the left hand.
There was a succession of open entrances, a perspective of old tapestry
door-hangings, with glimpses of the distant pictures. He went as far
as the great western gallery, and came back by the parallel suite of
smaller galleries without finding that allotted to the letter L. And
when he reached the Gallery of Honour again, the crowd had greatly
increased. In fact, it was now scarcely possible for