e quite a feature in the country, and
one of the sights of the Villers-Cotterets forest, where strangers are
always brought. They are very picturesque; the trees slope down to the
edge of the ponds, and when the bright autumn foliage is reflected in
the water the effect is quite charming.

Mme. de M., the chatelaine, was the type of the grande dame Francaise,
fine, clear-cut features, black eyes, and perfectly white hair, very
well arranged. She was no longer young, but walked with a quick, light
step, a cane in her hand. She, too, was much interested, such an
influx of people, horses, dogs, and carriages (for in some mysterious
way the various vehicles always seemed to find their way to the
finish). It was an event in the quiet little village. She admired my
mare very much, which instantly won my affections. She asked us to
come back with her to the chateau--it was only about a quarter of an
hour's walk--to have some refreshment after our long day; so I held up
my skirt as well as I could, and we walked along together. The chateau
is not very large, standing close to the road in a small park, really
more of a manor house than a chateau. She took us into the
drawing-room just as stiff and bare as all the others I had seen, a
polished parquet floor, straight-backed, hard chairs against the wall
(the old lady herself looked as if she had sat up straight on a hard
chair all her life). In the middle of the room was an enormous
palm-tree going straight up to the ceiling. She said it had been there
for years and always remained when she went to Paris in the spring.
She was a widow, lived alone in the chateau with the old servants. Her
daughter and grandchildren came occasionally to stay with her. She
gave us wine and cake, and was most agreeable. I saw her often
afterward, both in the country and Paris, and loved to hear her talk.
She had remained absolutely ancien regime, couldn't understand modern
life and ways at all. One of the things that shocked her beyond words
was to see her granddaughters and their young friends playing tennis
with young men in flannels. In her day a young man in bras de chemise
would have been ashamed to appear before ladies in such attire. We
didn't stay very long that day, as we were far from home, and the
afternoon was shortening fast. The retraite was sometimes long when we
had miles of hard road before us, until we arrived at the farm or
village where the carriage was waiting. When we could wal