t, with
nobody in it, a large farm at one end and very often the church at the
other. As it was late, the farm gates were all open, the cattle
inside, teams of white oxen drinking out of a large trough.

In a large farm near Boursonne there was much animation and
conversation. All the beasts were in, oxen, cows, horses, chickens,
and in one corner, a flock of geese. The poor little "goose girl," a
child about ten years old with bright-blue eyes and a pig-tail like
straw hanging down her back, was being scolded violently by the
farmer's wife, who was presiding in person over the rentree of the
animals, for having brought her geese home on a run. They wouldn't
eat, and would certainly all be ill, and probably die before morning.
There is a pretty little old chateau at Boursonne; the park, however,
so shut in by high walls that one sees nothing in passing. W. had shot
there once or twice in former years, but it has changed hands very
often.

[Illustration: Long pauses when nobody seemed to have anything to say.]

Sometimes we paid more humble visits, not to chateaux, but to the
principal people of the little country town near, from which we had
all our provisions. We went to see the doctor's wife, the notary's
wife, the mayor's wife, and the two schools--the asile or infant
school, and the more important school for bigger girls. The old doctor
was quite a character, had been for years in the country, knew
everybody and everybody's private history. He was the doctor of the
chateau, by the year, attended to everybody, masters and servants, and
received a regular salary, like a secretary. He didn't come very often
for us in his medical capacity, but he often dropped in at the end of
the day to have a talk with W. The first time I saw him W. presented
him to me, as un bon ami de la famille. I naturally put out my hand,
which so astonished and disconcerted him (he barely touched the tips
of my fingers) that I was rather bewildered. W. explained after he had
gone that in that class of life in France they never shook hands with
a lady, and that the poor man was very much embarrassed. He was very
useful to W. as a political agent, as he was kind to the poor people
and took small (or no) fees. They all loved him, and talked to him
quite freely. His women-kind were very shy and provincial. I think our
visits were a great trial to them. They always returned them most
punctiliously, and came in all their best clothes. When we went