e charge of the place,
and visitors are permitted to see it any day between twelve and four."

"I should like to see the old place," said I.

"And I should like to see how the bride is dressed," said Josephine,
"and if the bridegroom is handsome."

"Well, let us go--not forgetting to thank Monsieur _le Perruquier_ for
his polite information."

Monsieur _le Perruquier_ fell into what dancing-masters call the first
position, and bowed elaborately.

"Most welcome, Mademoiselle--and Monsieur," said he. "Straight up the
road--past the orchard about a quarter of a mile--old iron gates--can't
miss it. Good-afternoon, Mademoiselle--also Monsieur."

Following his directions, we came presently to the gates, which were
rusty and broken-hinged, with traces of old gilding still showing
faintly here and there upon their battered scrolls and bosses. One of
them was standing open, and had evidently been standing so for years;
while the other had as evidently been long closed, so that the deep
grass had grown rankly all about it, and the very bolt was crusted over
with a yellow lichen. Between the two, an ordinary wooden hurdle had
been put up, and this hurdle was opened for us by a little blue-bloused
urchin in a pair of huge _sabots_, who, thinking we belonged to the
bridal party, pointed up the dusky avenue, and said, with a grin:--

"_Tout droit, M'sieur--ils sont passes par la!_"

_Par la_, "under the shade of melancholy boughs," we went accordingly.
Far away on either side stretched dim vistas of neglected park-land,
deep with coarse grass and weeds and, where the trees stood thickest,
all choked with a brambly undergrowth. After about a quarter of a mile
of this dreary avenue, we came to a broad area of several acres laid out
in the Italian style with fountains and terraces, at the upper end of
which stood the house--a feudal, _moyen-age_ French chateau, with
irregular wings, steep slated roofings, innumerable windows, and
fantastic steeple-topped turrets sheeted with lead and capped with
grotesque gilded weathercocks. The principal front had been repaired in
the style of the Renaissance and decorated with little foliated
entablatures above the doors and windows; whilst a double flight of
steps leading up to a grand entrance on the level of the first story,
like the famous double staircase of Fontainebleau, had been patched on
in the very centre, to the manifest disfigurement of the building. Most
of the windows were shu