charming lodgings, overlooking two pretty gardens, and the front of Mr. Rothschild's hotel, and then an open view as far as Montmartre and its windmills. We have our dinners from a restaurant's, the Café de Paris; they are delicious, but I find scarcely a dish that I have not previously eaten in England. I am making an experimental voyage through the carte, and have had a different dish every day." . . . .
Her pleasant recollections of Paris, however, were always associated with an adventure of a character more exciting than agreeable, that happened to her on her journey home. Of all the passengers who presented themselves to the notice of the Custom-house authorities, L. E. L., to her surprise and consternation, was selected for the compliment of particular search. Her inexperience in such matters, and a natural timidity on seeing herself in so unusual a situation, perhaps increased the suspicion these authorities had suddenly taken upon themselves to entertain, that she had concealed about her person sundry laces, silks, or trinkets, which had not yielded the lawful tribute to the revenue. She was as innocent of a thought of fraud as the king himself; but her protestations, eloquent as they were, went for nothing, or, possibly, stimulated inquiry. A gold chain, which she wore, was remorselessly detained, and pronounced to be forfeited; what was worse, it was not her own property, it belonged to a friend, and had, in fact, paid the legal duty; it was restored after a few days. L. E. L. used to laugh at this tribulation, afterwards, and made the investigating matron the heroine of a little comic romance. What she suspected, and what, no doubt, was the cause of the very particular attentions which she was singled
