d, almost crippled with
gout, to remain with him as long as he lived. It was only after his
death that she took the vows and entered one of the strictest orders
(Carmelites) in France.

There were also the chatelaines of Thury en Valois--a fine chateau and
estate, not very far from us in the other direction. They had splendid
gardens and their fruit and vegetables were famous all over the country.
Mme. de Thury was a compatriot--the daughter of an American general; the
young Comte de Melun from Brumetz--very delicate looking, with a refined
student's face. His father was a great friend of the Marechal MacMahon
and one of the leaders of the Catholic clerical party, and the young man
was very religious. Their woods touched ours and once or twice when we
were riding late, we saw him kneeling at a little old shrine, "the White
Lady," which was almost hidden under the big trees--so little left that
the ordinary passer-by would have seen nothing. There were also the
owners of Colinance--rather an ugly square house standing low,
surrounded by a marsh, but a good property--and three or four men I did
not know--the bride's brother and one or two of her relations.

There was hardly time to introduce every one, as dinner was announced
almost immediately. We were a large party, about twenty. All the women,
except the bride and me, were dressed in black, high or a very little
open--no lace, nor jewels. Henriette was right. I would have looked
absurd if I had worn a low dress. The dinner was very good, very
abundant and very long. The men said the wines were excellent. The talk
was animated enough--it was principally the men who talked. I didn't
think the women said much. I listened only, as I was too new in the
country to be at all up in local topics.

After coffee the men went off to smoke and we women remained alone for
some time. I wasn't sorry, as one had so few opportunities of seeing the
neighbours, particularly the women, who rarely went out of their own
places. One met the men hunting, or in the train, or at the notary's.

The notary is a most important person in all small country towns in
France. Everybody consults him, from the big landowner when he has
discussions with his neighbour over right of way, to the peasant who
buys a few metres of land as soon as he has any surplus funds. We were
constantly having rows with one of our neighbours over a little strip of
wood that ran up into ours. Whenever he was angry with us,