for 'a cheap haunted house,' and asking for the
address of the one I had mentioned. I was unable to comply with
her request, as personally I do not believe the house was haunted
at all. Moreover, to prevent the sale or letting of any particular
house by asserting it to be haunted would be an offence under the
libel laws. As I could not tell what course my lady-correspondent
might take in the matter, I preferred not to answer her. May she
forgive me my impoliteness!

X

'LE REVE': THE DREAM

When the owner of the house which M. Zola had rented desired to resume
possession, it became necessary to find new quarters of a similar
character for the master. And so he was transferred to another Surrey
country house where the arrangements remained much the same as
previously: work every morning, resting or bicycling in the afternoon,
followed by newspaper reading and letter-writing in the evening.

The grounds of M. Zola's new retreat were very extensive, and in part
very shady, which last circumstance proved extremely welcome to the
novelist, who on coming to 'cold, damp, foggy England,' as the French put
it, had never imagined that he would have to endure a temperature
approaching that of the tropics.

The heat deprived him of appetite, and, moreover, he did not particularly
relish some of the dishes provided for him by a new cook who had lately
been engaged. We all know how great is the servant difficulty even under
the best of circumstances; and when cooks and maids have to be secured in
hot haste an entirely satisfactory result is hardly to be expected.
Moreover, many servants refuse to live in country retirement, far away
from their 'followers,' and thus one has at times to take such as one can
find.

As for the cookery to which M. Zola was at certain periods treated, he
beheld it with wonder and repulsion. His tastes are simple, but to him
the plain, boiled, watery potato and the equally watery greens were
abominations. Plum tart, though served hot (why not cold, like the French
_tarte_?) might be more or less eatable; but, surely, apple pudding--the
inveterate breeder of indigestion--was the invention of a savage race.
And why, when a prime steak was grilled, should the cook water it in
order to produce 'gravy,' instead of applying to it a little butter and
chopped parsley? This, Dundreary-wise, was one of those things which
nobody, not ev