ured a purplish maroon, with sparkling yellow glass eyes, and an
abundance of fantastic yellow spots. These cats had been bought by him as
a souvenir of England and English art, for he was much struck by their
oddity. He had been offered others--for instance, white ones with little
coloured landscapes printed all over their backs and sides--surely as
idiotic an embellishment as any insane potter could devise--but although
these had sorely tempted him he had finally decided in favour of the
maroon and yellow abominations.

A little girl of mine, who found herself face to face with these cats one
day in his room, was quite startled by them, and has since expressed the
opinion that Sir John Tenniel ought to have seen them before he drew the
Cheshire cat for 'Alice in Wonderland.' For my own part I can imagine the
laughter and the jeers of M. Zola's artistic friends when those choice
specimens of British art are shown to them in Paris.

At intervals during his long sojourn at the Queen's Hotel M. Zola
received a few brief visits from French friends, chiefly literary men and
politicians, whose names need not be mentioned, but who have identified
themselves with the cause of Revision. At times these gentlemen found
themselves in London on other matters, and profited by the opportunity to
run down to Norwood. On other occasions they made the journey from France
for the especial purpose of quieting M. Zola's impatience, and telling
him that he must not yet think of returning home. Again, M. Fasquelle,
the French publisher, came over four or five times, now on business and
now in a friendly way.

I think that during the seven or eight months that M. Zola stayed at the
Queen's Hotel, he received altogether some ten visits from compatriots,
which visits were often of only an hour or two's duration. Thus, Mme.
Zola having returned to France, he was frequently very much alone.

During the last months of his exile my wife fell seriously ill, and I
could not then go so often to Norwood. Afterwards ague caught me in its
grip, and my visits ceased for two or three successive weeks. All I could
do in an emergency was to place my eldest daughter or my son at M. Zola's
disposal.

The foreign visitors he received--by foreign I mean non-French--were
(apart from the Warehams, myself and family) very few in number. I think
that an eminent Russian _publiciste_ who happened to be a personal friend
(M. Zola has long been popular in Russia, wh