think. That part of the picture I could
never realize, as there is nothing W. loathes like reading aloud
except, perhaps, being read to.

They were very friendly and easy, showed us the downstairs part of the
house, and gave us gouter, not tea, wine and cake. The house looked
comfortable enough, nothing picturesque; a large square hall with
horns, whips, foxes' brushes, antlers, and all sorts of trophies of
the chase on the walls. They are sporting people; all ride. The
dining-room, a large bright room, was panelled with life-size
portraits of the family: M. and Mme. M. in hunting dress, green coats,
tricorne hats, _on_ their horses; the daughter of the house and one of
her brothers, rowing in a boat on a small lake; the eldest son in
shooting dress, corduroys, his gun slung over his shoulder, his dog by
his side. They were all very like.

[Illustration: "Merci, je vais bien."]

We strolled about the garden a little, and saw lots of pheasants
walking peacefully about at the edge of the woods. They made me
promise to come back one day with W., he to shoot and I to walk about
with the ladies. We saw the children of the fourth generation, and
left with the impression of a happy, simple family party. M. M. was a
conseiller general of the Aisne and a colleague of W.'s. They always
stayed at the same hotel (de la Hure) in Laon at the time of the
conseil general, and M. M. was much amused at first with W.'s baggage:
a large bath-tub, towels (for in small French provincial hotels towels
were microscopic and few in number), and a package of tea, which was
almost an unknown commodity in those days. None of our visitors ever
took any, and always excused themselves with the same phrase, "Merci,
je vais bien," evidently looking upon it as some strange and hurtful
medicine. That has all changed, like everything else. Now one finds
tea not only at all the chateaux, with brioches and toast, but even in
all the hotels, but I wouldn't guarantee what we get there as ever
having seen China or Ceylon, and it is still wiser to take chocolate
or coffee, which is almost always good. We had a lovely drive back.
The forest was beautiful in the waning light. As usual, we didn't meet
any vehicle of any kind, and were quite excited when we saw a carriage
approaching in the distance--however, it proved to be W. in his
dog-cart. We passed through one or two little villages quite lost in
the forest--always the same thing, one long, straggling stree