gardener; it was quite empty,
standing in the orangerie, but he was convinced we would never bring it
back), moss all around it, and it made a great effect. The "garde de
Borny" arrived while we were working, and said he would certainly come
to the church in his "tenue de garde"; our two keepers would also be
there.

[Illustration: There was one handsome bit of old lace on a white nappe
for the altar.]

Thursday morning we went early (ten o'clock) to St. Quentin and spent
over two hours decorating the Tree, ticketing and arranging all the
little garments. Every child in the neighbourhood was hanging around the
school-house when we arrived, the entrance being strictly forbidden
until after the service, when the Tree would be lighted. I expressed
great surprise at seeing the children at the school on a holiday, and
there were broad grins as they answered, "Madame Waddington nous a dit
de venir." It had snowed all night, and the clouds were low and gray,
and looked as if they were still full of snow. The going was extremely
difficult; not that the snow was very deep, but there was enough to make
the roads very slippery. We had the horses "ferres a glace," and even
the donkey had nails on his shoes. The country looked beautiful--the
poor little village quite picturesque, snow on all the dark roofs, and
the church standing out splendidly from its carpet of snow--the tall
pines not quite covered, and always the curtain of forest shutting in
the valley.

We left the maids to breakfast with the keeper, and promised to be back
at three o'clock punctually. Our coachman, Hubert, generally objects
strongly to taking out his horses in bad weather on rough country roads
and making three or four trips backward and forward; but to-day he was
quite serene. He comes from that part of the neighbourhood and is
related to half the village. Our progress was slow, as we stopped a good
deal. It was a pretty sight as we got near St. Quentin: the church,
brightly lighted, stood out well on the top of the hill against a
background of tall trees, the branches just tipped with snow. The bell
was ringing, the big doors wide open, sending out a glow of warmth and
colour, and the carpet of white untrodden country snow was quite intact,
except a little pathway made by the feet of the men who had brought up
the harmonium. The red carpet and bright chrysanthemums made a fine
effect of colour, and the little "niche" (it could hardly be called a
chape