sorry to go--the old chateau, with its walls and towers soft and
grey in the sunlight, seems to belong absolutely to another century. I
felt as if I had been transported a hundred years back and had lived a
little of the simple patriarchal life that made such a beautiful end
to Lafayette's long and eventful career. The present owner keeps up
the traditions of his grandfather. I was thinking last night what a
cosmopolitan group we were. Three or four different nationalities,
speaking alternately the two languages--French and English--many of
the party having travelled all over the world and all interested in
politics, literature, and music; in a different way, perhaps, but
quite as much as the "belles dames et beaux esprits" of a hundred
years ago. Everything changes as time goes on (I don't know if I would
say that _everything_ improves), but I carried away the same
impression of a warm welcome and large hospitable life that every one
speaks of who saw La Grange during Lafayette's life.

IV

WINTER AT THE CHATEAU

We had a very cold winter one year--a great deal of snow, which froze
as it fell and lay a long time on the hard ground. We woke up one
morning in a perfectly still white world. It had snowed heavily during
the night, and the house was surrounded by a glistening white carpet
which stretched away to the "sapinette" at the top of the lawn without
a speck or flaw. There was no trace of path or road, or little low
shrubs, and even the branches of the big lime-trees were heavy with
snow. It was a bright, beautiful day--blue sky and a not too pale
winter sun. Not a vehicle of any kind had ventured out. In the middle
of the road were footprints deep in the snow where evidently the
keepers and some workmen had passed. Nothing and no one had arrived
from outside, neither postman, butcher, nor baker. The chef was in a
wild state; but I assured him we could get on with eggs and game, of
which there was always a provision for one day at any rate.

About eleven, Pauline and I started out. We thought we would go as far
as the lodge and see what was going on on the highroad. We put on
thick boots, gaiters and very short skirts, and had imagined we could
walk in the footsteps of the keepers; but, of course, we couldn't take
their long stride, and we floundered about in the snow. In some places
where it had drifted we went in over our knees.

There was nothing visible on the road--not a creature, absolute
stillne