to leave
up windows which shut out all the daylight, and even confuse the eyes by
throwing patches of colour, to which I should be hard put to it to give
a name, on a floor in which there are not two slabs on the same level?
And yet they refuse to renew the floor for me because, if you please,
those are the tombstones of the Abbots of Combray and the Lords of
Guermantes, the old Counts, you know, of Brabant, direct ancestors of
the present Duc de Guermantes, and of his Duchesse also, since she was a
lady of the Guermantes family, and married her cousin." (My grandmother,
whose steady refusal to take any interest in 'persons' had ended in
her confusing all their names and titles, whenever anyone mentioned the
Duchesse de Guermantes used to make out that she must be related to Mme.
de Villeparisis. The whole family would then burst out laughing; and she
would attempt to justify herself by harking back to some invitation to
a christening or funeral: "I feel sure that there was a Guermantes in it
somewhere." And for once I would side with the others, and against
her, refusing to admit that there could be any connection between her
school-friend and the descendant of Genevieve de Brabant.)

"Look at Roussainville," the Cure went on. "It is nothing more nowadays
than a parish of farmers, though in olden times the place must have had
a considerable importance from its trade in felt hats and clocks. (I
am not certain, by the way, of the etymology of Roussainville. I
should dearly like to think that the name was originally Rouville, from
_Radulfi villa_, analogous, don't you see, to Chateauroux, _Castrum
Radulfi_, but we will talk about that some other time.) Very well; the
church there has superb windows, almost all quite modern, including that
most imposing 'Entry of Louis-Philippe into Combray' which would be more
in keeping, surely, at Combray itself, and which is every bit as good, I
understand, as the famous^windows at Chartres. Only yesterday I met Dr.
Percepied's brother, who goes in for these things, and he told me that
he looked upon it as a most beautiful piece of work. But, as I said to
this artist, who, by the way, seems to be a most civil fellow, and is a
regular virtuoso, it appears, with his brush; what on earth, I said to
him, do you find so extraordinary in this window, which is, if anything,
a little dingier than the rest?"

"I am sure that if you were to ask his Lordship," said my aunt in
a resigned tone, fo