CHAPTER V.


PARIS.

_June_, 1828.--A fatiguing journey, over dusty roads, and in intensely
hot weather, has brought us to Paris, with no accident save the failure
of one of the wheels of our large landau--a circumstance that caused
the last day's travelling to be any thing but agreeable; for though our
courier declared the temporary repair it received rendered it perfectly
safe, I was by no means satisfied on the point.

We have taken up our abode in the Hôtel de la Terrasse, Rue de Rivoli,
are well-lodged, but somewhat incommoded by the loud reverberation of
the pavement, as the various vehicles roll rapidly over it. We were
told that "it would be nothing when we got used to it"--an assertion,
the truth of which, I trust, we shall not remain sufficiently long to
test; for I have a peculiar objection to noise of every kind, and a
long residence in Italy has not conquered it.

So here we are, once more, at Paris, after six years' absence from it;
and I find all that has hitherto met my eyes in it _in statu quo_. How
many places have I seen during that period; how many associations
formed; how many and what various impressions received; and here is
every thing around looking so precisely as I left them, that I can
hardly bring myself to believe that I have indeed been so many years
absent!