house, you fool.

there can be no doubt on the point. We must advertise for six months or a year, I forget which; but it's all the same. They are gone, depend on it, or the annuity would have been claimed every year. At the Foreign Office, they believe Selby died im mediately on his appointment; and all we have to fear is the casting up of some next of kin, and an enquiry into the savings. Old Hibbert, or even his wife, is sure to have had relations."

"Did you ever hear what their mother's name was?"

"Never."

Mr Augustus slapped his forehead, as if he had hit on a prodigious discovery. "Father, I'll bet you ten crowns to one, it was Jones, and this girl has been sent to look after her own interests."

"In that case," said the father, "we had better lose no time in rummaging the house. She was such a queer old file, I'm sure it's all in hard cash; indeed, we know she has a great deal of property somewhere at her own disposal, for she was on the very point of making a will".

"And in favour of that girl. I'll double the odds I'm right, father: she's her first cousin by the mother's side."

"Hem! I don't know," mused the father; "and yet, when I saw her the other day, it struck me she had a likeness to the Hibberts too. It may be so; and therefore we had better look sharp and overhaul the cupboards."

But just when they had arrived at this honourable resolution, Mr Harry Millard was announced.

"'Pon my soul, glad to see ye, sir," said Mr Augustus, holding out his hand. "This here is the gentleman, father, that put the doctor-disguise into my head. Draw in your chair, and take a glass of wine, sir; though we're rather busy just now, owing to the late melancholy eventdreadful bereavement! wasn't it, sir?"

"I am sent by Dr Aylward, to request that you will come down to his house immediately, both of you, on business of the very greatest import

ance

"Dr Aylward's a reg'lar trump, I've no doubt," said Mr Augustus; but, if he has any business to transact, he may as well come up here-eh, father?"

"Oh no; by no means," replied Mr Tyem; "keep them out of the

We shall be happy

to accept the Doctor's kind invitation".

"Blowed if I walk this hot weather, then," said Augustus, sulkily. "I'll have out the old lady's carriage, and give her old nags a trot. If you like to stay, I'll give you a lift on the box beside me.

Mr Millard declined, with a supercilious bow.

"Oh, just as you please. How about Miss Jones ?" said Augustus. "I advise you, very sincerely, to be silent on the subject of that young lady, sir," replied Harry Millard; "I've known insolent fellows very severely kicked for impertinence of that kind."

"Oh, blast us!—you're a fire-eater, are you? Well, I didn't expect such behaviour after the love message I gave her. A very nice girl that same Jennie Jones; and not so bad a speck as you thought-el ?"

Harry stepped hurriedly forward, but checked himself as he saw Mr Augustus skip nimbly behind the window curtain. "You needn't try to carry on the joke any longer," ," he continued. "We know that she's looking out for a poor deceased friend's succession, though she never made any will in her favour."

"Hold your tongue, Augustus," interposed Mr Tyem. "We have a suspicion already, sir, of the nature of the business you wish to see us on. Miss Jones is a relation of the late Miss Hibbert. Am I right?" "Yes."

"A cousin?"

"The nearest relation, as she was the dearest, that England contains!" said Mr Millard. "We shall see you

soon; good morning."

"The nearest and dearest relation!" repeated Mr Augustus, "what the deuce can she be? Can you imagine, father?"

"Can't think," replied that gentleman, thunderstruck. "It's perhaps a lie," he added, by way of relieving his astonishment. I've known many gentlemen tell lies; why shouldn't Mr Millard?"

"I'll tell you what, old boy," cried Mr Augustus, after a minute's deep musing, "I've found it to a certainty; she's Miss Hibbert's own daughter!"

"I hope not," said Mr Tyem, in great perturbation. "That would ruin us all; but it's impossible. She never

would have kept the marriage concealed."

Mr Augustus put his thumb to his nose, and extended his four somewhat dirty fingers in a most facetious manner. Perhaps, old boy, there was no marriage to conceal.'

66

"

"Ha! then, in that case we are safe -the heir to this property must be born in wedlock; but stuff, boy! it's impossible."

Well, here's the carriage; let us go down and hear what Dr Aylward has got to say. I hate parsous, I do, they're always so meddling."

Mr Tyem and his son were shown into the library on their arrival at the parsonage, and before any one else had time to say a word, Mr Augustus thought it incumbent on him to demand an explanation" I think, gents," he said, "you must have very particular business, indeed, to summon a man in the midst of a talk with his governor-in such infernal hot weather as this is too, and so soon after our affliction-dreadful bereavement; isn't it, father?"

"I thought it better, Mr Tyem," began Dr Aylward, addressing himself to the senior partner, without taking any notice of Augustus's oration, "to send for you to let you know that we give you formal notice to quit Willerdon Hall; of which, I may be allowed to add, you have most improperly and most unwarrantably taken possession." "You give us notice, do you? Oh! Of course you will follow it up?" "Of course."

"And prove that my son has no holding under Miss Hibbert's will?" "Of course.”

66

Oh! and you've got evidence, of course, to rebut the evidence I can produce, that her sister, Elizabeth Hibbert, died in No. 36 of the High Street of Cuenca, on the 19th of July, eighteen hundred and twenty

? I have two most respectable gentlemen who saw her die, and took a note of the date."

Dr Aylward and the gentleman in deep mourning exchanged looks at this intelligence.

"And as to your friend, Miss Jones," pursued Mr Tyem, triumphantly, "of course you must have good evidence to prove that she is any relation at all; though in that we are not at all interested, as her claim, as next of kin, can only extend to the savings."

What! not if she is a very near

relation indeed?" enquired Dr Aylward.

"Didn't I tell you so, father?" interposed Augustus. "They're going to rip up old sores, and expose the frailties of our deceased friend; but it's of no use, gents, for, even if she were Miss Hibbert's daughter, she needs to be lawful-doesn't she, father?"

"Undoubtedly; but perhaps we mistake the case of the opposite party."

"You do entirely," answered the doctor, "and so far as Miss Jones is concerned with regard to whom I can't understand your allusions-I have to inform you that we resign all claim on her behalf, as next of kin; and we can have no objection, in case any other friends of hers should advance any claim on that plea, to let you hear the evidence which convinces us that she has no possible right to any part of Miss Hibbert's estate."

"Well-that's handsome, any how," said Augustus; he drew his father aside for a moment-" I see how it is, they want a little hush-money; and rather than be bothered, I don't care if I give them fifty pounds. What do you think?"

"Do you wish to see our evidence?" said Dr Aylward, with something of a sneer. "It must be gratifying to you to find that one claimant is disposed

of."

"Oh, yes! by all means. Let's hear the evidence."

Dr Aylward made a sign to the gentleman in deep mourning, who left the room, and returned in a short time with a lady leaning on his arm. She wore a veil a little way over her face, so it was possible only to see her mouth and chin; a beautiful mouth and a beautiful chin, and a majestic presence; and when she lifted up her veil, and showed her finely-chiseled features and bright glancing eyes -oh heaven! oh earth!-it was nobody but Elizabeth Hibbert herself! It could be no mistake; and the miserable heart of Mr Tyem felt in a moment that his two Old Bailey witnesses could be of no possible use.

"Come, my dear madam," said Dr Aylward, "you have just arrived in time to satisfy this person that you did not die in the High Street of Cuenca some eighteen years ago. Did you die at the time and place specified by two respectable gentlemen ?"

Elizabeth gave one of the sweet

laughs that used to enchant all listeners -except her father and sister-long

ago.

"How do we know, sir, that this lady is the person she assumes to be?" said Mr Tyem, in the agonies of despair. "Who knew her in her youth, and can swear to her identity? I knew Miss Elizabeth Hibbert intimately, and this lady, I declare on my honour, is not in the least degree like her."

66 I am the brother of her husband," said the gentleman in deep mourning, "and I bear witness she is the same.'

"Here! let me look at her once more, and I shall die content," exclaimed a very jolly-looking little man, very red-faced, very loud-voiced, and dressed in pepper-and-salt shorts and continuations, "I saw her as I stopped at the Aylward Arms. Says I to Fug, Pug, says I, if that aint Elizabeth Hibbert, I'm a Dutchman. I followed here; if I'm wrong, Lord forgive me.'

"But you're not wrong, dear, kind Mr Forman," said Elizabeth, holding down her cheek for the old man to kiss," and darling Pug; is she with you? Oh! let me see her again!"

All in good time; Pug is with me, and Dolly, and Mrs Smillom, and my old woman, and five of the Smilloms. We were all travelling from town together in two coaches, and luckily caught sight of you at the inn."

"You're satisfied now, I hope," said Dr Aylward to Mr Tyem, leaving Elizabeth and her ancient friend to their raptures undisturbed.

"This may be a conspiracy, for any thing I know," said Mr Tyem; "but to settle the matter, are you inclined to come to any liberal compromise. It will be the best way, and avoid disputes."

"I know a way, I think," said Mr Augustus. "This lady, whoever she is, is perhaps a widow; now I'm a bachelor, you see; and so we might, perhaps, make it mutually agreeable.” "But she is not a widow. Her husband, Sir Frederick Selby, has only gone to town for a day or two."

But there's that Miss Jones," pursued Mr Augustus, who was resolved on patching up conflicting interests with a marriage. "If this lady settles the savings on her and she's justly entitled to them-I haven't any objection to take her, for better for

worse.

mind it."

It's a sacrifice; but I don't

"I believe she is pre-engaged to a very different person," said Mrs Selby, with a laugh. “My friend and quondam pupil, Harry Millard, has obtained the consent of her mother and Sir Frederick."

"Her mother?-Miss Jones?"said Augustus, in the extremity of hewilderment.

"Yes; and though you certainly are not entitled to any explanation, I may tell you, that Sir Frederick, after resigning his consulship, got engaged in a variety of incidents in South America, which kept him from communicating with his friends. At last, when he saw a prospect, about three years ago, of being able to return home, he sent his daughter to my care, under the name of Miss Jones, with an injunction on the part of his wife, to get her, if possible, introduced to her aunt, Miss Hibbert, to soothe her, to humour her; and, if she could perceive any opening, to inform her that her sister still lived, and was anxious, on her return to England, to be on good terms with the only relation she possessed. That opportunity never occurred; and now, having related to you as much as is necessary for you to know, you will have the kindness to leave this house instantly, and on no account to return to Willerdon Hall, which has already been taken possession of in the name of the rightful owner."

What a pleasant night that was at the parsonage! Old Mr Forman had the greatest possible difficulty in avoiding slapping the back of Elizabeth, as in days of old. Mr Smillom was enchanted to find that he was the intimate friend of a real baronet-(for Frederick's uncle had died ten years before)-handsome enough to be his companion, even without the title. But the happiest of the whole party were two people who sat on a sofa by themselves, a long way from every body else, and did not seem to say much to each other either; unless, indeed, their happiness yielded to Pug's the same happy, dumpy, warmhearted creature as ever-who sat the whole night long with a firm hold of Elizabeth's hand, and looked up into her still beautiful face, as she used to do in Paradise Row.

conquerors.

SOON after the period when the sway of Rome began to be consolidated in Northern Gaul, and the fishermen of the muddy marshes on the banks of "the winding river," as they termed it-the tortuous Seine-had begun to feel the effects of southern civilization, the little island that was dignified with the euphonious name of Lutetia became a post of importance in the military system of the Italian No traces now remain of any of the architectural efforts of those mighty masters and instructors of mankind, within the precincts of this insulated nucleus of Paris: what few remnants have been found at various periods beneath its soil, altars, and mutilated fragments of sculpture, have long since been carefully stored up in the public museums; and indeed the only visible remnants of Roman work now to be found any where, in or near this modern capital of France, are confined to the ruins of the Palace of Julian; the Palais des Thermes, as they are called-to the mutilated arches of an aqueduct at Arcueil, and to the shapeless fragment of a tower, or wall, on the northern slope of Montmartre. One indelible trace, however, of what Rome did for Paris, though marked no longer by Roman brick or stone, still exists in the capital, and may be instantly observed upon a map of the city; the straight line running nearly north and south, which indicates the old Roman road, and coincides with the Rue St Jacques, on the southern bank of the Seine with the Rue de la Juiverie in the island of the cité-and with the Rue St Martin in the northern division of Paris. This still remains, and will most probably continue as long as Paris is a city, or France a nation; and it forms the earliest positive recollection of the capital in Roman times. This line divides the oblong, pear-shaped island, nearly in half in its narrowest width: and so straight is its direction, that whoever stands in the Rue St Jacques, opposite the Pantheon, and looks northward, may carry his eye right athwart Paris, up a long narrow street, for the space of nearly three miles, till it reaches the high ground in the neighbourhood of La Villette. Westward

of this line, the island of the city was at an early period taken nearly entire possession of by the military governors of Paris, who constructed at the furthest extremity, a residence which ultimately became the Royal Palace, and still retains the title of "Le Palais," as a memento of its former greatness. To the eastward of the Roman road, the ecclesiastical authorities, as soon as Christianity became the leading power in the Gallic state, founded some important establishments; and the cathedral of Notre Dame, with the Episcopal Palace, were, till modern times, the most important edifices it possessed. For a long while, Paris was confined to the narrow limits of the original island: the Normans checked the spreading of habitations on either bank of the river, and even the two small islands lying behind the other, higher up the stream, were not applied to any other uses than those of pasturage, till within a few hundred years: one of them indeed is not even yet built on, though far within the circuit of the metropolitan walls.

The space was uncommonly small for the population, and at the time of the Norman incursions, every inch of the island was occupied : defences, more or less strong, ran round its shores, and protected them from hostile descent; while within, narrow tortuous streets and closely packed houses kept, even at that early period, a large number of inhabitants in a very inadequate compass of ground. No sooner had a little respite been afforded by the settlement and conversion of the fierce northern invaders, than the Parisians came out of their stronghold over the only two bridges they possessed, and spread themselves, with a luxurious desire for elbow-room and free air, over both banks of the Seine.

It is not our purpose to write a history of Paris, nor even to draw up a catalogue of its antiquities: we are only going to single out one or two of the curious old stories and traditions that belong to the most ancient part of the capital, and to try to rescue from oblivion the former conditions of a quarter which is every day losing more and more of its characteristic peculiarities under the hammer and plum

met of the municipal embellishers. Whatever may have been the inconveniences of the modes of building used in the middle ages, and even within the last three centuries, for private dwellings, and however agreeably modern tastes may be flattered by seeing all things converted to their accommodation, it is impossible not to witness the demolition of ancient and almost historical buildings with regret, or to be unmoved at the disappearance of the mute but substantial evidences and illustrations of national history. Streets may be made wider and cleaner, houses may be rendered more uniform and commodious, new modes of life and domestic economy may be introduced: all this may prove well for the common run of mankind, who live but from day to day, and who think always of the present, never of the past, and but little of the future: yet, to the antiquary, to the lover of old times, to the reader of old chronicles, to him who would wish to see a nation pay some respect to the deeds of its forefathers, every old stone and brick that is displaced causes him a pang his sensibility may be exaggerated, it is true, but still it exists; and it makes him suffer. Were he left to have his own way, would the rolling tide of mankind only consent to stop in its course for a few moments, he would raise his voice and hand in defence of old buildings, old customs, and old things, and he would crave that at least some mementos of the civil life of former days might be allowed to remain: if he were to wander through the streets of the "cité," which are now almost all resounding with the mason's chisel, and are rapidly putting on a modern guise, he would put his common sense in his pocket, and would lament the picturesque forms and associations of earlier days; he would sigh for the degeneracy of the present race of men, who know not how to respect the works of their ancestors, and he would utter a wish that old Paris, like old Rouen, like old Strasburg, and like so many other good old cities, might be left alone, and be spared the profanation of modern improvements. But such wishes are in vain they come too late: the work of demolition has been in great part effected many streets of the cité, which existed ten years ago, are now no longer to be found on the

:

map: one of the principal buildings of the island, the archbishop's palace, has been sacked by a furious populace, and its site has been planted with trees: all the sacred edifices but two have disappeared, (most of them during the great Revolution :) the "Palais" is about to undergo a restoration, probably a judicious one, for it is intrusted to good hands: and the cathedral itself is ordered to be repaired, and unfortunately "beautified," by the most Vandalic architect Paris ever was afflicted with. So that we must hasten with the pen, we must dive at once into the dusty deeds and records that remain of its former condition, and we will mention some peculiarities of the cité in former days.

Who has not read the glorious romance of" Notre Dame?" Who has not perused Victor Hugo's vivid description of Paris in the olden time? Never was a picture traced with bolder hand nor with greater fidelity: he brings the past so strikingly forward in all its characteristic singularities, that the reader lives as it were with him in antecedent epochs, and becomes an actual spectator of the curious customs and practices of the middle ages. To him let the general sketch and composition of such an extensive picture be left: we are going only to add a few details. The streets in the cité never recovered from the pressure they were subjected to in the first ages of their existence, when the incursions of the Normans squeezed up the population in a space not a quarter big enough for its size, and forced every one to add to the height of his house, instead of seeking to expand it in width and depth. Few of the old streets in this part of Paris were calculated for vehicles of any description, and, in some, two horses with their riders could hardly pass abreast: the houses hung over in stages, each story growing in area as it neared the roof, and at length the opposite gables of the upper ones almost touched each other. It is needless to say that light did not penetrate in any superabundant quantity to the nether regions of the ground floor, and that fresh air was a com modity by no means placed in the first rank of the necessaries of life: as for cleansing of the streets, that was nearly out of the question: it was left to chance, to the occasional inter