"FRIDAY.—Up at five, after a sleepless night. Started at seven. Heat _comme hier_—dust _ditto_: _two_ diligences before us.—Dined, or rather _table d'hôte'd_ (which is a very different thing) at Clermont. Didn't eat an ounce all three of us, but obliged to pay five francs a-piece for our dinners—and, as we had no francs left, the people kindly consented to take English shillings instead.—Ma and I quite ill, from heat, and dust, and fasting, and one thing or another; and Pa's lumbago much worse since the heavy thunderstorm which soaked thro' his waterproof hat, and ran off his Mackintosh into his shoes, till they were all of a squash.— Seeing our distress, three French gentlemen inside kindly consented to relinquish their seats in our favour, an offer which we gladly accepted. The French are really polite, _après tout!_—10 O'CLOCK, _à la nuit!_— Arrived in Paris at the _Hotel de Lyon_, the Marquis very politely handing us out, and seeing us to our room.—Rather annoyed by Pa's coming in and kicking up a rumpus about the gentlemen who had taken our paid places on the _première banquette_, and who had left him to pay for the three insides all the way from Boulogne.—Marquis very _aimable_, and gave us all a pressing invitation to pay him a visit at his _château_ in _La Vendée_. "SATURDAY.—The Marquis to breakfast.—With his Lordship to the _Jardin des Plantes_, where we had no sooner arrived among the lions and tigers than it began to rain cats and dogs. The noble Marquis very kind in holding the umbrella over him and me, and sending Pa to call a coach at the neighbouring coach-stand. Pa _très long-tems_ away—at last saw him coming along in the custody of two _gend'armes_, covered with mud and dirt, and bleeding profusely. Learned that poor Pa, instead of calling '_cocher_,' as he ought to have done, had called the man '_cochon_,' which, you know, means 'pig;' at which the coachman at first laughed; but Pa persisting in calling him '_cochon_,' he at last got down in a rage, and attacked Pa most furiously. I am sorry to say, poor Pa got _terriblement maltraité_. Ma has been in fits ever since, and Pa won't be able to go out for weeks. _Pour moi_, I am as ill as any one can be— nothing but the Marquis's kindness keeps me alive...." "P.S.—SUNDAY.—My dearest child! Your unhappy mother sends you this. Your deluded sister disappeared last night with the Marquis de Mandevil, leaving this unfinished letter on her table, and your Pa and me both heart-broken. I am too ill to write any more. Your miserable mother, BERTHA WIGGINS." "P.S.—MONDAY.—Dear daughter! Your distressed father sends you this. Your unhappy mother eloped last night with that villain _Alexis_—and all the luggage. I have discovered that he and the Marquis are a couple of sharpers. A pretty week we have made of it!