pective families; but when
he proceeded to _name_ some others of the family who had strayed a
little from the straight and narrow path, hoping they would be brought
to see, by Divine grace, the error of their ways, I was horrified, and
could hardly refrain from expressing my opinion to the old people.
However, I was learning prudence, and when my opinion and judgment
were diametrically opposed to those of my new family (which happened
often) I kept them to myself. Sunday was strictly kept. There was no
Protestant church anywhere near. We had a service in the morning in M.
A.'s library. He read prayers and a short sermon, all the household
appearing, as most of the servants were Swiss and Protestants. In the
afternoon Mme. A. had all the village children at the chateau. She had
a small organ in one of the rooms in the wing of the dining-room,
taught them hymns and read them simple little stories. The cure was
rather anxious at first, having his little flock under such a
dangerous heretic influence, but he very soon realized what an
excellent thing it was for the children, and both he and the mothers
were much disappointed when anything happened to put off the lesson.
They didn't see much of the cure. He would pay one formal visit in the
course of the year, but there was never any intimacy.

We lived much for ourselves, and for a few months in the year it was a
rest and change from Paris, and the busy, agitated life, social and
political, that one always led there. I liked the space, too, the
great high, empty rooms, with no frivolous little tables and screens
or stuff on the walls, no photograph stands nor fancy vases for
flowers, no bibelot of any kind--large, heavy pieces of furniture
which were always found every morning in exactly the same place. Once
or twice, in later years, I tried to make a few changes, but it was
absolutely useless to contend with a wonderful old servant called
Ferdinand, who was over sixty years old, and had been brought up at
the chateau, had always remained there with the various owners, and
who knew every nook and corner of the house and everything that was in
it. It was years before I succeeded in talking to him. I used to meet
him sometimes on the stairs and corridors, always running, and
carrying two or three pails and brooms. If he could, he dived into any
open door when he saw me coming, and apparently never heard me when I
spoke, for he never answered. He was a marvellous servant, clea