he had made them
keep their cottages like the cottages of a theater scene, and she had
planted most charming hedges of roses and of lilacs, and other
beautiful plants and trees. I think I never saw anything lovelier than
the rich meadow, where cows were grazing, almost encircled by a lilac
hedge, with occasional rose trees; and the cows had sense enough to
prefer the rich grass to the thorny roses or tough lilac foliage. This
was characteristic of Francezka. She loved beauty, as a Spaniard does,
but this love was tempered by that stern Scotch sense which does not
lose sight of what is useful.

Count Saxe had not seen the chateau since 1732, and he, too, was lost
in admiration at the beauty, order and fruitfulness of it all. The
windows of the chateau blazed in the sinking sun when we crossed the
stone bridge, dismounted, and walked up the steps of the terrace.
Francezka met us on the highest terrace. She wore, as when I had last
seen her, a rich Spanish costume of black, but not of mourning. She
was then in her twenty-seventh year, and was in the full perfection of
her charms. She received us joyfully, gave Count Saxe her cheek to
kiss and me her hand, and thanked us for coming to see her. Bold was
still her inseparable companion, and barked a joyful welcome to me.

As I had noted in her, after she had married Gaston Cheverny, a new
and sweet humility, so I now saw a new development of gentle patience
and quiet courage. She had taken up at last the burden of anxiety
which is a part of every creature's burden on this earth, and she bore
it more sweetly than would have been thought possible by one who knew
how dazzlingly happy and brilliant her path had been heretofore.
Unlike most persons whose lives and fortunes are dedicated to a single
pursuit, Francezka had not become ill balanced or fanciful. I thought
I had never seen her more dignified or sensible than when she presided
at supper that night.

She was perfectly informed on public affairs in Europe, being
naturally a great reader, and the retired life she led inclining her
the more to reading. She blushed with pleasure at Count Saxe's
compliments upon her acquirements. But Francezka, in spite of all
changes, was still Francezka. She knew perfectly well how to entertain
a great man like Count Saxe. While we supped she had musicians in the
gallery, who sang a song recounting Count Saxe's triumphs in war. My
master listened with pleasure, the greater when Francezka