There are trees and fields, and there is the Seine close by, and a chateau, and a park, and a church on a hill, ...

_ma foi!_ there is nothing in Paris half so pretty; not even the Jardin des Plantes!" "And have you been there lately ?" "Not for eight weeks, at the very least, M'sieur.

But then it costs three francs and a half for the return ticket, and since I quarrelled with Emile...." "Emile!" said I, quickly.

"Who is he ?" "He is a picture-frame maker, M'sieur, and works for a great dealer in the Rue du Faubourg Montmartre.

He was my sweetheart, and he took me out somewhere every Sunday, till we quarrelled." "And what did you quarrel about, Mademoiselle ?" My pretty partner laughed and tossed her head.
"Eh, _mon Dieu_! he was jealous." "Jealous of whom ?" "Of a gentleman--an artist--who wanted to paint me in one of his pictures.