der the shade of the trees, on a camp-stool, with a
camphor-bag to keep away insects, and in bodily fear of the dogs.

Poor Madame! I thought she would have had a fit on the first night of
her arrival, when the customary civility was paid of offering her a dog
to sleep on her bed. She never got really accustomed to them, and they
never seemed quite to understand her. To the end of her stay they
snuffed at her black skirts suspiciously, as if she were still more or
less of an enigma to them. Madame was markedly civil to them, and even
addressed them from time to time as "bons enfants," in imitation of our
phrase "dear boys"; but more frequently, in watching the terms on which
they lived with the family, she would throw up her little brown hands
and exclaim, "_Menage extraordinaire!_"

I am sure she thought us a strange household in more ways than one, but
I think she grew fond of us. For Eleanor she had always had a liking;
about Eleanor's mother she became rhapsodical.

"How good!" so she cried to me, "and how truthful--how altogether
truthful! What talents also, my faith! Miss Arkwright has had great
advantages. A mother extraordinary!"

Mrs. Arkwright had many discussions with Madame on political subjects,
and also on the education of girls. On the latter their views were so
essentially different, that the discussion was apt to wax hot. Madame
came at last to allow that for English girls Madame Arkwright's views
might be just, but _pour les filles francaises_--she held to her own
opinions.

With the boys she got on very well. At first they laughed at her; then
Clement became polite, and even learned to speak French with her after a
fashion. Jack was not only ignorant of French, but his English was so
mixed with school-boy idioms, that Madame and he seldom got through a
conversation without wonderful complications, from which, however,
Jack's expressive countenance and ready wit generally delivered them in
the long run. I do not know whether, on the whole, Madame did not like
Mr. Arkwright best of all. _Le bon pasteur_, as she styled him.

"The Furrin Lady," as she was called in the village, was very fond of
looking into the cottages, and studying the ways of the country
generally.

I never shall forget the occurrence of the yearly village fair or feast
during her visit: her anxiety to be present--her remarkable costume on
the occasion--and the strong conviction borne in upon Eleanor and me
that the Fat Lady in