peasant did not understand the value of such a "meuble" and parted
with it easily--but now, with railways everywhere and strangers and
bric-a-brac people always on the lookout for a really old piece of
furniture, they understand quite well that they possess a treasure and
exact its full value.

Our drive back was rather shorter, downhill almost all the way, the
horses going along at a good steady trot, knowing they were going
home.

When we drew up at our own door Hubert remarked respectfully that he
thought it was the first time that Madame and Mademoiselle had ever
been received by a lady in sabots.

We wondered afterward if she had personally attended to the cow--in
the way of poulticing or rubbing it. She certainly didn't wash her
hands afterward, and it rather reminded me of one of Charles de
Bunsen's stories when he was Secretary of Legation at Turin. In the
summer they took a villa in the country just out of the town and had
frequent visitors to lunch or dinner. One day two of their friends,
Italians, had spent the whole day with them; had walked in the garden,
picked fruit and flowers, played with the child and the dogs and the
pony, and as they were coming back to the house for dinner, Charles
suggested that they might like to come up to his dressing-room and
wash their hands before dinner--to which one of them replied, "Grazie,
non mi sporco facilmente" (literal translation, "Thanks, I don't dirty
myself easily"), and declined the offer of soap and water.

* * * * *

We paid two or three visits one year to the neighbouring chateaux, and
had one very pleasant afternoon at the Chateau de Pinon, belonging to
the Courval family. W. had known the late proprietor, the Vicomte de
Courval, very well. They had been colleagues of the Conseil General of
the Aisne, were both very fond of the country and country life, and
used to have long talks in the evening, when the work of the day was
over, about plantation, cutting down trees, preservation of game, etc.
Without these talks, I think W. would have found the evenings at the
primitive little Hotel de la Hure, at Laon, rather tedious.

The chateau is not very old and has no historic interest. It was built
by a Monsieur du Bois, Vicomte de Courval, at the end of the
seventeenth century. He lived at first in the old feudal chateau of
which nothing now remains. Already times were changing--the thick
walls, massive towers, high, narrow wi