f I should
ever see one or even a chateau-fort.

La Houssaye is an old castle built in the eleventh century, but has
passed through many vicissitudes. All that remains of the original
building are the towers and the foundations. It was restored in the
sixteenth century and has since remained unchanged. During the French
Revolution the family of the actual proprietor installed themselves in
one of the towers and lived there many long weary weeks, never daring
to venture out, show any lights, or give any sign of life--in daily
terror of being discovered and dragged to Paris before the dreaded
revolutionary tribunals. Later it was given, by Napoleon, to the
Marshall Augereau, who died there. It has since been in the family of
the present proprietor, Monsieur de Mimont, who married an American,
Miss Forbes.

The rain, which had been threatening all the afternoon, came down in
torrents just as we crossed the drawbridge, much to the disappointment
of our host and hostess, who were anxious to show us their garden,
which is famous in all the countryside. However, in spite of the
driving rain, we caught glimpses through the windows of splendid
parterres of salvias and cannas, making great spots of colour in a
beautiful bit of smooth green lawn. In old days the chateau was much
bigger, stretching out to the towers. Each successive proprietor has
diminished the buildings, and the present chateau, at the back, stands
some little distance from the moat, the vacant space being now
transformed into their beautiful gardens.

We only saw the ground-floor of the house, which is most comfortable.
We left our wraps in the large square hall and passed through one
drawing-room and a small library into another, which is charming--a
corner room looking on the gardens--the walls, panels of light gray
wood, prettily carved with wreaths and flowers.

We had tea in the dining-room on the other side of the hall; a curious
room, rather, with red brick walls and two old narrow doors of carved
oak. The tea--most abundant--was very acceptable after our long damp
drive. One dish was rather a surprise--American waffles--not often to
be found, I imagine, in an old French feudal castle, but Madame de
Mimont's nationality explained it. I was very sorry not to see the
park which is beautifully laid out, but the rain was falling straight
down as hard as it could--almost making waves in the moat, and a
curtain of mist cut off the end of the park.

Our d