nt
of his devotion. He won't have gone to bed at all, if he does turn up,
as he will only have got back to Versailles just in time for his duty
at six, and how he is to be in the Foret de Marly by ten I don't know,
but we shall see. It is just time to start, the brake is at the door,
so good-bye, dear Mamma, with love from your affectionate daughter,
Elizabeth.

Chateau de Croixmare,

_Thursday Night, September 1st_.

[Sidenote: _The "Ralli de Papier"_]

Dearest Mamma,--I wonder if you have ever been to a _Ralli de Papier_?
It is fun. We got to Marly at last after a long drive. The _rendezvous_
was in the middle of the forest, in such a lovely glade, and although
it rained for the last twenty minutes of our drive, the sun came out
when we got there, and the lights through the trees on the wet green
were so beautiful. There were quantities of carriages already arrived,
every sort--victorias, coaches, pony carts, charabancs, motor cars, and
a few of the really odd kinds of shandrydans that one sees coming to
country garden parties in England. There were also numbers of officers
riding in uniform--_cuirassiers, chasseurs, dragons_--and they were to
take part in the chase. There was one officer who was to lead the
carriages in a procession through the short cuts, so that we might not
miss any of the jumps, and he had a horn slung over his shoulder. I do
think it such a sensible plan; and if we could have the foxes trained
in England to go just where they should, and then always drive to where
the jumps are, like that, how much nicer hunting would be--wouldn't it,
Mamma?

[Sidenote: _Better than Fox-hunting_]

Well, at last every one seemed to be arrived, and it was gay. I was
glad Godmamma had been too tired to come, so Victorine was actually
trusted with Jean and Heloise and me. We had picked up the Baronne and
the Comte and the Marquise de Vermandoise at Tournelle on our way. The
brake was not quite like an English one; it had seats facing, and then
an extra one behind for the grooms, and Jean drove with Heloise beside
him; but he does look like a trussed pigeon, and if the horses were not
as quiet as mice, I am sure the Baronne would never have trusted
herself with him.

[Sidenote: _The Vicomte up to Time_]

They all began to chaff about the Vicomte; "Il ne chevauchera jamais si
loin, pas meme pour vos beaux yeux," the Marquise said. Victorine
seemed annoyed that any one should expect he would do anything fo