Richard Forrest, Bachelor — page 149: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

140 A GOLDEN FUTURE PREDICTED. CHAPTER XVII. A GOLDEN FUTURE PREDICTED. It was afternoon in the Bois de Boulogne—a warm, sun- shiny afternoon in May. The drive was thronged with open carriages, filled with elegantly dressed women and humble fiacres hired by those who desired to see, rather than be seen. Nurses with their tiny charges strolled along the paths, under the trees, now in full leaf, or stood with hun- dreds of others as curious as themselves, gaping at the gay panorama, with its ever-changing forms and faces. The lake, clear as a mirror, reflected the tall trees bending over it and the blue sky, with its filmy, floating clouds. Pedes- trians sauntered leisurely along the well-kept walks which wound in and out through the shrubs and flower-beds, gay with spring flowers. The sun, midway past the meridian, brightened the panels of the vehicles and glittered on the metal of the harnesses as the long line of carriages crowded together, halted, and started up again. A slight breeze was blowing; it barely lifted the manes of the horses and gent- ly stirred the tender young leaves. In a neat victoria, drawn by a large bay, whose well- groomed coat shone like satin and driven by a coachman in dark-blue livery, sat two women, one middle-aged and plain, with a parchment-like face, coarse, dark hair streaked with gray, and heavily lined eyes. The other, slender and pretty, with the delicate, pink-and-white com- plexion which belongs to youth, only, a smiling, self-satis- fied expression, and a wealth of blonde hair, arranged in the loose neglige fashion which prevailed. GOmMmicbooksacom: