d bless you, my dear Valerie," she said, "you must write
to me twice a week; I shall be most impatient for your return." I
parted from her with many tears, and did not leave off weeping till we
arrived at the chateau, at which Madame Bathurst resided.

I was received with formal politeness by the old gentleman, and Monsieur
de G--, who was also at home, and in an excessive gay humour. "Alas,
mademoiselle," cried he, "what a desert you will leave behind you! It
is too cruel, this travelling mania on your part. We never shall see
you again."

There was so much irony in his face as he said this, that I hardly knew
what to make of it; but it made me feel anxious and dissatisfied. I
would have given much to have abandoned the journey, but Madame
d'Albret's wishes were a law to me. To avoid reflection, which was
painful, I talked with Caroline, the niece of Madame Bathurst, and as we
were to set off at daylight, we retired early. The following morning we
set off, and in due time arrived at Paris, where we remained but one
day, and then proceeded to Boulogne, where we embarked.

It was now November, and half-way across the Channel we were enveloped
in a fog, and it was with difficulty that we made the harbour. We set
off for London, the fog continued during the whole day, and on our
arrival at the suburbs it was thicker than ever, and the horses were led
through the streets by people carrying flambeaux. I had heard that
England was a _triste pays_, and I thought it so indeed. At last I
observed to Madame Bathurst, "Est-ce qu'il n'y a jamais de soleil dans
ce pays, madame?"

"Oh, yes," replied she, laughing, "and a very beautiful sun too."

The next day we set off for Madame Bathurst's country seat, to pass the
Christmas. Before we were three miles out of London, the fog had
disappeared, the sun shone out brilliantly, and the branches of the
leafless trees covered with rime, glittered like diamond wands, as we
flew past them. What with the change in the weather, and the rapid
motion produced by the four English post-horses, I thought England
beautiful; but I must say that the first two days were a trial, the more
so as I was very despondent from having quitted Madame d'Albret. I was
delighted with Madame Bathurst's country seat, the well-arranged
gardens, the conservatories, the neatness displayed in every thing so
different from France, the cleanness of the house and furniture; the
London carpets over the who