ly when they
were introduced, but we haven't spoken yet. The Marquise de Vermondoise
is perfectly lovely, so fascinating, with such a queer deep voice, and
one tooth at the side of the front missing; and her tongue keeps
getting in there when she speaks, which gives her a kind of lisp, and
it is awfully attractive. I think de Tournelle would like to kiss her,
by the way he looked at her when she thanked him for handing her on
board.

[Sidenote: _The Invaluable Hippolyte_]

It is a steam yacht with a wee cabin, and a deck above that, with seats
looking out each side, like old omnibuses, and in the stern (if that
means the back part) are the sailors and the engines, and the oddest
arrangement of cooking apparatus. You should just taste the exquisite
breakfasts that Hippolyte (the Baronne de Larnac's _maitre d'hotel_)
cooked for us this morning after we started. He is the queerest
creature, with a face like a baboon, and side whiskers, and the rest a
deep blue from shaving. The Baronne says she could not live without
him; he is a splendid cook, and a perfect _femme de chambre_, and ready
for anything. He is much more familiar than we should ever let a
servant be in England. It was rough all the morning, quite waves. The
Seine is only half a mile from the Chateau de Croixmare, and runs past
the Tournelles' garden, so they have a private landing stage, and we
all embarked from there. Jean and the Comte are dressed in beautiful
English blue serges, and look neat enough to be under a glass case. The
old Baron does not care what he wears, and this morning while he was
working with the sailors had on a black Sunday coat!

The Baronne kept screaming when the boat rocked a little. "Nous ferons
naufrage! Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!" and the Vicomte tried to comfort her,
but she did not stop till Hippolyte popped his head out of the cabin
and said, "Pas de danger! et il ne faut pas que Mme. la Baronne fasse
la Bebete!"

At _dejeuner_ we had only one plate each, and one knife and fork. It
was so windy we could not have it under the awning in the bows, and the
cabin is so narrow that the seats are against the wall, and the table
in the middle. No one can pass to wait, so between the courses we
washed our plates in the Seine, out of the window. It _was_ gay! They
are all so witty, but it is not considered correct to talk just to
one's neighbour, a conversation _a deux_. Everything must be general,
so it is a continual sharpening of wits,