THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 

 4& 
 
tU 
 
 M A E I B 
 
 OR 
 
 GLIMPSES OF LIFE IN FRANCE. 
 
 " Spat erklingt was friih erklang, 
 Gluck und Ungliick wird'Gesang." 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 " Was eine lange weite Strecke, 
 Im Leben von einander stand, 
 Das kommt nun unter eine Decke, 
 Dem guten Leser in die Hand." 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 LONDON: 
 BELL & DALDY, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN. 
 
 1869. 
 
 [T7ie Bight of Translation is reserved.} 
 
LONDON: FEINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD t,TREET 
 AND CHARING CROSS. 
 
-T1 
 
 TO 
 
 Thk Reverend DAVID JAMES STEWART, M.A., 
 
 ONE OF HER MAJESTY'S INSPECTORS OF SCHOOLS. 
 
 My dear Mr. Stewart, 
 
 I offer you a little book which would not have been 
 written but for you. It was your desire that what you 
 had heard me tell of the impressions left on my mind 
 by visits to France, now ranging over a long time and 
 the greater part of the country, should be wrought into 
 as lively a story, with as much bustle of incident and 
 change of characters as I could compass within a very 
 small volume. Your writer began with no other wish 
 than that of turning out a task set by you as neatly as 
 was feasible. There must, however, be some occult 
 power in ink which is at present imperfectly recognised ; 
 Luther's inkstand may not have been hurled at the Foe 
 as a missile, but as a counter-charm. Perhaps there is 
 more than we think in the Eastern mode of sorcery by 
 gazing into a plash of ink in the palm of an infant's 
 hand. I stirred the little pool of my inkstand with a 
 quill, and shapes appeared who would have it that they 
 
IV DEDICATION. 
 
 had something to say. I shall be proud, indeed, if you 
 think them worth hearing, for, if I may alter by one 
 word a sentence in a dedication to a book of our own 
 days, you are " the severest of critics, but a perfect " 
 friend. 
 
 You must admit that I have followed your behest to 
 be not too learned or didactic. After reading Jules 
 Favre's recent speech in the " Corps Legislatif," you 
 will, I am sure, allow that the collisions between my 
 characters and the French official system are under- 
 drawn. A Frenchman in Mr. Lalor's situation would 
 have fared worse. After telling you that I began the 
 tale as a task, I cannot fail to add that the work soon 
 became play, and that your suggesting it is one of the 
 many kindnesses, old and new, for which you are 
 thanked now and ever by 
 
 The Writer. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 How Marie begins to travel ...... 1 
 
 Journey to Folkestone, and mishaps of Mrs. Smith and 
 u Joseph " by Rail, Road, and Packet .... 9 
 
 How Mrs. Smith, on landing at Boulogne, came, for the first 
 time, in contact with the French Customs' Officers and 
 Police 15 
 
 The troubles of Miss Goodman taking a naughty nephew to a 
 French school, and carrying with her English hams and 
 cheese ......... 22 
 
 The Amiens Junction — An Infant found in the Train, and 
 adopted by the Railway Porters ..... 28 
 
 The Blind Men of Beauvais 31 
 
 Arrival in Paris — An " Infernal Machine " — Confusion in the 
 Inn — Meeting with Mr. Lalor — Escape of "Master Tom" 
 t— Search for him, and discovery of his hiding-place . 33 
 
 An Irishman who journeys on Horseback with no knowledge 
 of French 56 
 
 From Paris to Orleans ....... 60 
 
 Second meeting with Mr. Lalor, and news of " Joseph," who 
 has been ill-used by his Brethren ..... 63 
 
 Journey by Diligence to Tours along the banks of the Loire 
 
 — The Conducteur and a Broken Pane 70 
 
 An elderly antiquary in pursuit of a " pure French accent " 
 — Biddy Noonan's bad Husband — Marie makes a Plum- 
 pudding for the credit of her country .... 84 
 
vi CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Kise of the Loire — The country folk flock into Tours — 
 An Union Dinner ; a new Salad-dressing — The River in 
 the Streets —Incidents of the Flood — The encampment at 
 the Archbishop's — A wrathful Barber . . . .119 
 
 Caps and Bonnets — Biddy falls under the "Rule of the 
 Saxon" — Leave-takings ...... 146 
 
 Journey down the Loire by Saumur and Angers to Nantes . 165 
 
 How Matches may be made in France — Umbrellas for hire — 
 A French "Penny Wedding" 172 
 
 Third meeting with Mr. Lalor — His Ride through the Landes 
 — He unexpectedly finds himself to be a Criminal flying 
 from Justice — He next finds himself to be a Contemner of 
 Law and Order — His adventure comes to a peaceful end . 187 
 
MARIE. 
 
 My name is Mary, but where I am now living they call 
 me " Marie," for they speak French, not English, as I do, 
 who am an Irish girl by birth ; at least, my parents 
 were Irish. I may have been born in Lancashire ; for, 
 when I can first remember anything, my father was 
 working at the Liverpool Docks as a ship's carpenter. 
 One of my brothers worked with him, the other went to 
 sea. My mother had been a servant in good places, and 
 learnt the English ways, so that she kept all about her 
 clean and tidy. When very young, I was taken by a 
 lady of a family in which she had lived, and was happy 
 in finding a good master and mistress, with whom I 
 stayed all the years I was in service. 
 
 By the time I was grown up, my master left off trade, 
 being now rich, and without children. He broke up 
 
 B 
 
2 MARIE. 
 
 house, and of all the servants kept only me to wait on 
 Mrs. Eichards. 
 
 I said " good-bye " to Father and Mother, and we went 
 travelling about, living six months here and six months 
 there, mostly where there were waters with a bad taste, 
 which were said to be good for the health. 
 
 I seldom wrote home, and hardly ever got a letter.. 
 Poor people found it dear to pay the postage in those 
 days, and you looked for some great news to make it 
 worth your while. 
 
 We were staying at Buxton, when my brother wrote 
 to tell me of the death of my poor father, and that mother 
 had packed up all she had, and gone to live with him 
 in the Isle of Man, where he was then working. He 
 begged me to go and nurse her, and mind his house, for 
 she was too weak and ill to do much. It seemed hard 
 to have paid above a shilling for such poor news. I sat 
 down and cried, tossed about between my duty to my 
 mother and my liking for my place. My mistress was 
 very sorry too, but thought I must go, and my master 
 said there could not be a doubt about it. 
 
 Next day they told me it made little matter to them 
 where they went. They had heard the Isle of Man was 
 healthy. They would take me there, and make some 
 stay. 
 
 " And mind, Mary," said my master, " you must 
 pick up a Manx cat without a tail for your mistress 
 
MAB1E. g . 3 
 
 to give to an old aunt of hers, who is crazy about 
 pets." 
 
 I thought he said this to make me smile, for I was still 
 very downcast. He had a merry way with him at all 
 times. 
 
 After crossing the sea, we reached Douglas, the chief 
 town in the Isle of Man. Mr. and Mrs. Eichards took 
 lodgings, and I went to my friends. My brother had 
 good wages, and lived in comfort. He was a kind son to 
 my mother, though hasty and stubborn in temper. 
 
 My poor mother only lived a month after my coming. 
 She took to her bed when she found I knew how to 
 manage. I did my best for her and my brother. So, 
 after her burial, he said there was no need for me to 
 go back to service. He had no thought of marrying. 
 I might stay and keep his house, if I would. 
 
 At first, I liked being nearly mistress, but after a 
 while I did not find it so pleasant. He brought more 
 people to the house than he could have done when 
 mother was lying ill, and there was One young man 
 who, it seemed to me, was always coming. 
 
 My brother thought a great deal of him. I did not 
 like him or dislike him, until he asked me to become 
 his wife ; then I felt quite set against him. I could 
 give no good reason for this feeling ; so, at least, my 
 brother said. He liked him, and thought much of his 
 being a tradesman in a small way, and said if I would 
 
4 MARIE, 
 
 marry him we could all keep house together. So I 
 said " yes ;" but after saying M yes," I felt more set 
 against the match than ever. I took to moping, and 
 was so cross by fits and starts, that I vexed my brother 
 till he grew stubborn. " If I did not keep my word," 
 he told me, " he would no longer look on me as a 
 sister." 
 
 We never heard of my other brother, so it seemed 
 hard to quarrel with my only relation. I should have 
 been glad to vex the young man, but he would not take 
 offence, though I have a tongue, and can use it when 
 I will. 
 
 Another trouble was, that my master and mistress 
 were about to leave the island. They talked of spend- 
 ing the winter in France, but first they were to visit 
 the rich old aunt, of whom I had heard strange ac- 
 counts. 
 
 " We are to sail by the next packet," said my mistress ; 
 " and, oh Mary, you have never found me a cat !" 
 
 I had had other things to mind, and had, besides, soon 
 ceased to notice what at first seemed very odd, that 
 there should be a breed of cats in that island having long 
 hind legs and no tails. 
 
 We become used to almost anything. On first coming, 
 I used to wonder if it was the custom of the country to 
 cut off the cats' tails when they were young ; afterwards 
 I hardly saw the difference between them and others. 
 
MARIE. 5 
 
 Well, as I was going sadly home, a fine young cat of 
 this kind jumped into my arms, and laid its head against 
 me, purring as if I were an old friend it had not seen 
 for long, and was very glad to see. After stroking it a 
 little, I put it down. It followed me to our door, and 
 sat upon the step the greater part of the day, asking to 
 come in as plainly as any one could. 
 
 When I had words with my brother, which I am sorry 
 to say was often the case just then, for he and his friend 
 were teasing me to name the wedding-day, I had got into 
 a way of wandering out and walking till so tired that 
 I was forced to return. Next day, after one of these 
 quarrels, as I was going with a heavy heart to bid good- 
 bye to my master and mistress, who were to sail next 
 morning, just about the same spot up jumped the same 
 cat into my arms again. I thought, here is a cat for the 
 " old lady ;" but seeing a woman come out of a house who 
 called " puss, puss !" I put it down. The cat followed 
 me a little way, then I lost sight of it. 
 
 My mistress did all she could to keep up my heart, 
 and told me I might be much happier than I was dis- 
 posed to fancy. 
 
 I replied, I should be happy if I were going with 
 them. She said, she should like it too, but she could 
 not take upon herself to advise me to break the word I 
 had given. 
 
 So that night, being too low in spirits to fly out 
 
6 MARIE. 
 
 of temper, I let my brother and the young man fix a day 
 for the wedding. 
 
 Next morning, when I had seen my brother out of the 
 house, I put on my bonnet, thinking to walk till I felt 
 more settled. I knew my brother meant to speak to the 
 priest some time in the day, and then there would be no 
 going back for me. 
 
 As I went out, I saw the cat which had taken such a 
 fancy to me lying coiled on our door-step, and I took it 
 up, meaning to give it back to its owner. 
 
 The young woman I had seen the day before was 
 at her door, and I asked her if that cat was hers. 
 
 She said, " No, it was a poor thing without a home. 
 She had found it behind a water-butt in her yard. She 
 had a cat, and could not keep two. Sometimes it got 
 food, and sometimes it got none." 
 
 Seeing poor puss clung so to me, I said, " I will try if 
 it will stay with us," and turned round to take it home. 
 
 Sometimes I could fanc'y it was sent to lead me 
 whither I was to go, for I had scarcely gone a step be- 
 fore it came into my mind that there was still more than 
 an hour before the packet sailed, and no one to hinder 
 my going in it. 
 
 I made haste home, ran upstairs, caught hold of a few 
 clothes, which I stuffed into a carpet bag, leaving my 
 boxes behind me. I should have liked to have taken 
 the six silver tea-spoons my mother gave me in her ill- 
 
MARIE. 7 
 
 ness, and the brass candlesticks that used to shine over 
 our chimney when I was a child, and the old warming- 
 pan she valued so highly. She had said they were to 
 be mine ; but, as I was leaving my brother in anger, I 
 thought he should not have to say that I had taken any- 
 thing out of his house. So I took nothing but my 
 carpet bag and the cat, and, with one on each arm, ran 
 all the way to the quay. The plank was being moved 
 from the side of the ship, and, if I had been a minute 
 later, I should have been left behind. 
 
 My master and mistress were below. I do not know 
 how I managed to find my way to the cabin, for when I 
 got there I turned quite silly, laughing and crying, and 
 when my master said with surprise, " Why, Mary, what 
 can have brought you here ?" I had nothing wiser to 
 answer, than, " Please, sir, I have brought a cat without 
 a tail I" 
 
 We had a rough passage, having been sixteen hours in 
 crossing. I was so ill that I did not think of brother 
 or lover. Nothing seemed of any account to me but 
 getting on land again. My mistress was very ill, too, 
 and my master felt bound to let her rest a couple of 
 nights at Liverpool before we went on to London. I 
 kept close, and did not go to see any one I knew, for I 
 had a notion that my brother might claim me. I fell 
 into my old place quite easily, and my mistress said she 
 had longed to urge me to leave with her; but my 
 
8 MAB1E. 
 
 master had told her not to meddle in the matter. London 
 was not strange to me, as I had been there before ; but 
 there were strange ways in the house to which we went. 
 It was quite in the outskirts of London, bordering upon 
 the country, for wherever Mrs. Smith, my mistress's 
 aunt, went, her first want was to find a field near her 
 house for a favourite donkey, from whom she could not 
 make up her mind to be parted. This donkey was old, 
 and quite blind. A boy was kept to feed him and lead 
 him for a gentle walk daily, and a female servant, who 
 had lived with her mistress as long as the donkey, used 
 to walk by his side to see that the boy did not ride 
 him. Two old dogs, so fat that they could hardly 
 waddle, made up the party. The old lady would have 
 me walk with them, rather against my will. I did not 
 like the boys to make fun of us all as they did. Mrs. 
 Smith said she wished me to go to talk to her maid. It 
 kept up her donkey's spirits to hear a little chat and 
 stir going on about him. I did wonder how my master, 
 even with his easy temper, kept his patience with Mrs. 
 Smith. Even before we came she had taken a whim 
 into her head of going to France with us, and taking 
 the donkey. There was no turning her from it. She 
 had made all her plans, she said. She had fulfilled a 
 duty in going to Tunbridge Wells to visit the graves of 
 some canaries she had buried there, and there was now 
 nothing to delay her. She had given my poor cat a 
 
MARIE. 9 
 
 kind welcome, but " Joseph," as she called the donkey, 
 was clearly the first person in her house. My master 
 urged her to lake the cat, if she must have some four- 
 footed companion, and leave the donkey behind. The 
 cat, he said, had made a voyage already, but there was 
 no telling how sea-sickness might affect the donkey. 
 
 " That," said Mrs. Smith, " was true, but there was 
 as much chance it might do him good as harm." 
 
 He was an old friend from whom she could not be 
 parted. The cat was young and lively. It would amuse 
 her dogs in her absence. So a cook who had lived with 
 her at Tunbridge Wells came to take care of the house, 
 the dogs, and a number of birds, and the donkey, the boy, 
 and the old servant were got ready for the journey. 
 
 Mrs. Smith had never yet travelled by railroad. She 
 agreed to do so now, but said she should take her own 
 carriage and sit in it. A rusty old carriage was dragged 
 out and packed with her boxes, and one morning we all 
 started from the London Bridge Station. My master 
 and mistress went like other people, but Mrs. Smith 
 sat aloft in her carriage with her maid behind her. 
 The donkey had a horse-box to himself, and his boy was 
 with him. At a station some distance from London the 
 train was divided, and, looking out of the carriage- 
 window, I saw the pen in which was the donkey shunted 
 to a siding. I clapped my hands for joy, trusting we 
 might lose him altogether ; but I did not yet know Mrs. 
 
10 MARIE. 
 
 Smith. She, too, saw the sight, and, in a very shrill 
 voice, cried, " Stop the train this moment !" just as the 
 railway-whistle, which was still shriller, showed the 
 train to be moving on. 
 
 At the next large station she came down from her 
 carriage, and meeting my master on the platform said, 
 " Eichards, come with me to the person who professes 
 to manage this ill-conducted concern." 
 
 When she saw the station-master she said, " I have a 
 complaint to lodge. Your train, as you call it, went off 
 with unwarrantable rapidity, leaving an old and faithful 
 servant, and, I may say, friend of mine, standing at the 
 last station." 
 
 The station-master stared when he found what it all 
 meant, but some looks and words passed between him 
 and my master which helped to arrange matters. Mrs. 
 Smith had begun by ordering that the train should at 
 once return to fetch the donkey. She ended by mount- 
 ing to her carriage, on my master's promise to remain at 
 the station till the next up- train, and himself go in it to 
 recover the boy, as he put it — the donkey, as she did. 
 
 We were all to go on to Folkestone. My mistress 
 called me into the carriage to sit with her, now she had 
 lost my master. Poor thing ! she could not help crying ; 
 she was so tired and fretted with her aunt's whims, and 
 sorry my master should be so teased; but he was a 
 pleasant gentleman, and turned it to fun. 
 
MAMIE. 11 
 
 Well, at last we were all lodged in a hotel, Mrs. 
 Smith was very gloomy all the evening. She said she 
 could not help fancying what must be poor Joseph's 
 feelings. It was well he knew his mistress. Her, at 
 least, she thought he could not doubt. It was the first 
 time she had been able to feel some comfort in his being 
 blind. He would be less alive to the horrors of his 
 situation. 
 
 Of my master's wearisome and absurd situation she 
 never seemed to think. Her maid said that was no 
 wonder, for the late Mr. Smith and the donkey both 
 grew infirm about the same time, and far more thought 
 was taken for the latter. This maid was sent to 
 meet each train. Mrs. Smith herself went to choose 
 him a nice horse-box in the inn. 
 
 It was late before my master arrived with the boy and 
 the donkey. Mrs. Smith thanked him in a solemn way, 
 and said she should never forget he had rescued Joseph. 
 My master, laughing over it all with my mistress, said 
 he did hope she would remember his day's work when 
 she made her will. My mistress had lost heart for travel- 
 ling if Joseph was to be of the party, and begged Mr. 
 Eichards to contrive some way of stayiug behind. He 
 said the thing would come to an end of itself in a day 
 or two. My mistress was not so sure. 
 
 The next few days we spent at Folkestone. My 
 master put off crossing the sea in hopes some of the 
 
12 MARIE. 
 
 many things he brought forward might alarm Mrs. 
 Smith, and induce her to give up the voyage. She, 
 however, was as obstinate as Joseph, and met every- 
 thing that could be said. If my master said with a so- 
 lemn face that he thought a sea-voyage might be too 
 much for the donkey after the shock to his nerves on 
 the railway, she would reply that he had a sound consti- 
 tution and great power of rallying. The strange part 
 was that she was not more than a little odd in other 
 things, and very keen about money matters. 
 
 At times I used to think she was only perverse, and 
 did it to try all about her, and see how far she could 
 make them all wait upon her whims for the sake of 
 her riches. 
 
 If we could not contrive to leave Joseph behind, we 
 did manage better with the old carriage. It left itself 
 behind after this way : — As Mrs. Smith was taking an 
 airing, the dickey in which her maid and I were sitting 
 broke off from the body of the carriage, and fell down 
 with us into the road. We screamed, as you may sup- 
 pose. Both of us were bruised, the maid rather badly, 
 but her mistress went on with her drive, leaving us to 
 walk back to Folkestone as well as we could. She said 
 it would be the last time she should set foot in her 
 carriage. She had meant to take it to France, but she 
 now saw it had done its work. She did not regret it, 
 as it had died a natural death. So, ordering the driver 
 
MARIE. 13 
 
 to put the fragments (as she called the dickey) into a 
 little copse by the side of the road, and " leave them to 
 moulder away in peace," she went on, because " she 
 never changed her plans," and left us to hobble home. 
 
 " One thing less to look after," said my master, and 
 made up his mind to cross next morning. " Who knows 
 but Joseph may die, and be buried at sea ?" 
 
 The old carriage was left in a corner of the stables — 
 u decently interred," as my master said, and the ostler, 
 who had made many jokes about the " Harab steed " put 
 under his care, was charged to give Joseph an extra feed 
 to prepare him for the trials of the voyage. All the 
 fun that had been made of our party before was nothing 
 to the mirth we caused when the donkey had to be got 
 on board the steamboat. He knew there was something 
 out of the common ; so he would not stir, but stood stock- 
 still till he drew a crowd about him. One man who 
 wished to help us fetched a thick stick, and the little 
 boys sang a song they had just then, beginning : 
 
 " If I had a donkey wot wouldn't go, 
 Do you think I would wallop him ? — No, no, no I" 
 
 " Most certainly not I" cried Mrs. Smith ; " down with 
 that stick, man! Take a lesson from those good little 
 boys. Will you, sir " (here she spoke to the captain, who 
 had come to see what the bustle was about, and was 
 whistling very hard) — " will you, sir, cause me to be 
 
14 MARIE. 
 
 furnished with a biscuit ? I will then myself lead in this 
 docile creature." 
 
 The biscuit was brought, the donkey snuffed it, and 
 followed his mistress to the pen set aside for him on deck. 
 
 On hearing that Mr. Eichards meant to stay on deck, 
 Mrs. Smith went down to the ladies' cabin. The steward 
 asked her to choose a berth or a place on the sofa. She 
 replied : " Did he think a woman of her size could lie on 
 a thing that was no wider than a plank ?" She was very 
 stoutly made, that was certain. It ended by her sitting 
 down on the floor, setting her back against the mast 
 which went through the cabin, and drawing together all 
 the other ladies' bags and bandboxes to stay herself, and 
 make her place more easy. One young lady, who had 
 a new bonnet in a deal box, saw her draw it up to prop 
 her elbow, and took fright, thinking her weight mdght 
 break the lid. She rose, though she looked very ill, 
 and asked for- her box. Mrs. Smith gave her a stern 
 look, but withdrew her arm, and, turning to my mistress, 
 said : 
 
 " Don't you be sea-sick, Anne-; only fools are sea- 
 sick." 
 
 I suppose we were all fools but Mrs, Smith. Her 
 maid was the worst of all, and, though she looked firm, 
 and held her little pet canary's cage steadily on her 
 knee, she did not offer to move, but, of all people, picked 
 out me, who could hardly stand when I rose, to go on 
 
MARIE. 15 
 
 deck and bring her word how Joseph was bearing the 
 voyage. I did get up and stnmble to a seat. By-and- 
 by my master saw me, and told me to stay where I 
 was, and keep quiet. Then up came the steward. He 
 said a stout lady below had sent him to ask how a 
 party by the name of Joseph was getting on. Mr. 
 Eichards replied : 
 
 " Tell the lady that Joseph keeps up better than any 
 one on deck." 
 
 At last we went by the pier, and were in the port of 
 Boulogne. We got out of the boat, no one could tell 
 how, the bustle was so great. A troop of weather-beaten 
 old women, strong and noisy, rushed at us, seizing all 
 our luggage, pulling the little bags we carried out of 
 our hands, and making signs to us to follow them to the 
 custom-house. My master and mistress, almost deafened 
 with their cries and the clatter of their wooden shoes, 
 were going after them quite meekly, when Mrs. Smith, 
 in a voice as loud as their own, called out that her 
 donkey was not to be forgotten. My master said some- 
 thing in French to the women, who at once surrounded 
 Joseph, screaming at him, and calling him names, which 
 I was told were not quite so civil as those given him by 
 his mistress. Mrs. Smith, on her part, cried out : 
 
 44 Is Joseph to be left in the hands of those female 
 brigands ? If you allow such a thing, Eichards, you are 
 nothing to me. This is worse than the railroad." 
 
16 MARIE. 
 
 Luckily, there was still a biscuit to be found, with 
 which the donkey was tempted to move towards the 
 custom-house. Some of the little French soldiers hang- 
 ing about on the quay came up to see what was the 
 matter, and so did all the little boys, and such of the 
 women as were not busy with the luggage. The custom- 
 house officers did not look as if they ever made fun of 
 anything. They seemed fiercer than the soldiers. We 
 had to pass one by one before an officer, who took away 
 our passports. We were then taken into a bare room, 
 where we sat down on benches. There were many 
 people and much luggage, so that it was long before the 
 inner door was thrown open, and we were called to 
 enter a room in which all our boxes were set upon a 
 kind of counter running round it. My master had told 
 us what we might take, and what we might not, for at 
 that time they were very strict about what they called 
 " customs duties " — that is, money payments you had to 
 make if you wanted to take certain things to eat or wear 
 from England to France, or from France to England. 
 None of us had anything liable to duty, except Mrs. 
 Smith, who had brought some pounds of tea, made up 
 in half-pound packets to be easy to hide. Now, in 
 getting her keys to open her boxes, she pulled out a 
 handful of tea with them, the paper-bag having broken 
 in her pocket. A fierce-looking man saw it fall, and 
 made grimaces, pointing it out to the others ; and our 
 
MARIE. 17 
 
 party at once "became under watch. Others only had 
 their things tumbled over at the tops of their boxes, but 
 everything in every box belonging to us was turned 
 out. This took a long time ; besides, it was such a vexa- 
 tion ! After all my pains in packing, to see my mistress's 
 sweet new things tumbled over as if the men were 
 making hay ! There was no tea among them, but they 
 found a few half-pounds hid away in the boxes of Mrs. 
 Smith and her maid ; and they seemed to think it re- 
 paid their trouble. When done with the boxes, they 
 made known to my master that our persons must be 
 searched. He said it was quite unknown to him that 
 any tea had been brought. The lady who had done so 
 knew nothing of their laws, and would gladly pay the 
 duty if they would restore her tea. He gave them a 
 hint he would add something more to be let off without 
 further trouble. 
 
 At that time many people gave them bribes that 
 their luggage might not be disturbed. However, too 
 many pairs of eyes had seen the tea, so my master was 
 marched off by a man, and we by women, and searched 
 as if we were thieves. Mrs. Smith offered to give them 
 up the tea she had about her person ; but they liked 
 better to find it. 
 
 While the women were jabbering, and we servants 
 crying, Mrs. Smith went on making solemn remarks 
 in English, to show it was the duty of the French 
 
 c 
 
18 MAEIE. 
 
 to have good and cheap tea instead of the bad and dear 
 stuff with which she had been told you must put up. 
 My mistress lost patience, and begged her aunt not to 
 go on talking to people who did not understand one 
 word of what she said. 
 
 At last all the tea was found, and taken to the head 
 of the office, who filled up some papers about it. After 
 giving the address of the boarding-house in the upper 
 town to which we were going, we were suffered to leave. 
 
 My master was more out of humour than I had ever 
 known him to be before. This seemed to have an effect 
 on Mrs. Smith. She became moody, and had not a word 
 to say, even when, on going out, we saw a little French 
 lad mounted on Joseph's back. Joseph's own boy, who 
 was grinning to see the French boy urge the donkey to 
 move without the smallest success, pulled a long face 
 when he saw his mistress ; but she kept a gloomy 
 silence all the day. My master heard some people in 
 the crowd settling it among themselves that the donkey 
 had done its work, and was now, no doubt, being fatted 
 for eating. They said it was known that the fillet of a 
 donkey was a dainty dish, better than that of a horse. 
 It was not then, as now it is, lawful in France to sell 
 horse-flesh for human food ; but many were thought to 
 do so, though they would have denied it with all their 
 might. 
 
 We had not been an hour in our lodgings before a 
 
MARIE. 19 
 
 man came from the police, one of those they call a 
 gendarme * — a tall man with a cocked hat, and a long 
 sword swinging at his side. It seemed that the custom- 
 house officers had told the police that they had best 
 keep an eye on us. The man asked where we were 
 going, what was our object in going to each place 
 named, and what we all did when we were at home. 
 After getting all this from my master, all my master 
 could get in return was that our passports should be 
 given up to us on our reaching Paris. 
 
 The mistress of our boarding-house was an English- 
 woman, who had married a Frenchman. At that time 
 I pitied her very much, and Mrs. Smith's old servant 
 thought it was better not to marry at all than to marry 
 a Frenchman. Since then I have married a Frenchman 
 myself, and am called " Madame " instead of " Missis," 
 so I have not so much to say. This Madame made 
 us very comfortable, and even found some good tea 
 for us. It loosed Mrs. Smith's tongue again. After 
 drinking three cups, and groaning to hear that ten 
 shillings had been paid for a pound of it, she said : 
 
 " Richards, I have had enough of travelling. Jf you 
 and Anne choose to go on, I can stay here till your 
 Teturn. This seems a worthy woman. I will remain 
 
 * "A gendarme," or "man-at-arms" (in English), might be said 
 to answer to a sergeant of police in England. He has a horse, and 
 the arms of a soldier. 
 
20 MARIE. 
 
 with her if a suitable paddock can be found for 
 Joseph." 
 
 This was a plan no one wished to alter. All grew 
 more cheerful on hearing it. Next morning my master 
 was in such good spirits that he went to the custom- 
 house, and offered to pay all their charges if they would 
 let Mrs. Smith have back her tea. He little thought 
 how many more visits he would have to make, and how 
 many forms must be filled up to get back those few 
 pounds of tea. It went on day after day, till Joseph 
 seemed to be a smaller trouble. A field was found for 
 his pasture long before his mistress had a spoonful of 
 her own tea to put in her pot. At first the chief of the 
 custom-house stood out against such a thing having 
 been done in ignorance, and asked for what he chose to 
 call " a moral guarantee ;" so my master had to bring 
 one or two of his English friends who were living at 
 Boulogne. This was not enough. So the Consul for 
 England was brought. After one man in office had 
 stopped the mouth of the other, there were more visits 
 to the custom-house to sign papers and answer questions. 
 In the end, by paying the duty, all the tea was recovered 
 except one packet. This one of the women who searched 
 us owned to having given as medicine to her sick hus- 
 band. They were going to call her to account for it, 
 but she stood up stoutly, and told them what a good 
 man he was, how well he worked, but he had been 
 
MARIE. 21 
 
 thrashed by the women on the quay for interfering with 
 their rights by carrying a box for an Englishman, and 
 he had never been the same man since. 
 
 "The brave man," she said, "he did not mean to 
 injure them, those negresses, those furies. The English- 
 man called to him to carry his luggage, knowing no 
 better, being one of those English ; and the good man, 
 who was gentle as a child, did as he was bid, as he did 
 always, and for that, do you see, he was ill-treated, but 
 frightfully ill-treated by those Algerians. She had 
 made him tea to give him strength ; it had given him 
 courage, the dear lamb, and he could now go about his 
 work, and do more than any man in the same way of 
 work in Boulogne." 
 
 She spoke with so much force that all the Frenchmen 
 about cheered her in their way, and the head of the 
 custom-house said she was a brave woman, and her 
 taking the tea was passed over, as the loss fell on Mr. 
 Eichards, who paid the duty on that packet as well as 
 on the rest. 
 
 . We all thought it strange to treat good tea as a ding, 
 but I have now lived long enough in France to know 
 that good green tea gives more help in illness than most 
 of the messes, with no strength in them, given by their 
 doctors. In serious illness my neighbours trust in violet 
 tea, or tea made from the leaves and blossoms of the 
 lime. They call these watery messes "tisane;" and 
 
22 MARIE. 
 
 when a man's stomach is out of order they give him 
 boiled carrots to calm it ; but when my Ernest is ill, 
 which is not often, I think of the woman at Boulogne, 
 and I make him some strong tea, and it gives him 
 courage ; and once I gave him a little glass of brandy, 
 but the doctor did so frighten me, I have never done it 
 again. He said such things might do for your English- 
 men, but were enough to kill a Frenchman in illness. 
 For all that, he got better in a few days ; while a 
 Frenchman in the house, with the same ailment, was in 
 bed for a fortnight drinking violet tea. Still, as the 
 doctor and the neighbours made out I had gone the 
 way to kill him, I shall only give him green tea in 
 future, but strong it shall be. 
 
 So, seeing Mrs. Smith settled into her old ways, for a 
 field had been found for the donkey so near that she 
 could go and see him every day, Mr. Eichards began to 
 think of proceeding on his long journey to the city of 
 Nantes, in Brittany. 
 
 An English lady in our boarding-house wished to 
 join our party as far as Tours, where she was going to 
 enter her nephew at the College. My master agreed 
 to this out of good nature, though tired enough of 
 fellow-travellers after Mrs. Smith and her donkey. 
 
 Poor Miss Goodman seemed lost in France, that 
 was the fact. She spoke very little French, and her 
 nephew, who might have helped her, having been at 
 
MABIE. 23 
 
 school in Paris, rather tried to puzzle her more. She 
 had brought him up, and spoiled him. He was a lively 
 boy of about fourteen. He had not liked being changed 
 from Paris to Tours ; still, he told me that he did not so 
 much mind going to Tours as having a woman to take 
 him there. I was to mind and not tell, but I should see 
 if ever his aunt reached Tours. I think the stories he 
 told to alarm her, of the strange habits and bad living 
 and lodging she would have to put up with, rather 
 worked against his own end, and made her more bent 
 on going to see that he came to no harm. 
 
 When we turned our backs on Mrs. Smith and Joseph, 
 and took the train to Amiens, I, for one, thought we 
 had said good-bye to our troubles, but as fast as one 
 came to an end up sprang another. Miss Goodman had 
 a cousin who had lived so many years at Tours that he 
 was weary of all he ate, and longed for some English 
 food. So Miss Goodman was taking him an English 
 choese and some hams. She had paid for them on land- 
 ing, and thought that was the end of it ; but just out- 
 side the Amiens Station the omnibus stopped, and a 
 man put in his head, and asked if we had anything to 
 " declare," which meant, " were we taking anything to 
 eat or to drink into the town ?" for every French town 
 lays a toll, called the " octroi " duty, on all provisions 
 brought within its walls. Master Tom said, in French, 
 that his aunt had some very fine old cognac and some 
 
24 MARIE. 
 
 capital cigars. My master cut him short, and said there 
 were some hams and a cheese; while Miss Goodman, 
 who had heard of our mishap, kept begging the man 
 not to search her, and scolding her nephew for putting 
 such things into his head. 
 
 After making us all get out of the omnibus, the octroi 
 man climbed up to the roof, and began to rummage 
 among the boxes. He seemed puzzled at finding no 
 brand} r , but, seeing my master was correct about the 
 other things, he took his word about that. Miss Good- 
 man was in great distress when she saw the man carry 
 off her hams and cheese into his little office, and her 
 nephew told her she would never see them more unless 
 she went to the refreshment room next morning. 
 Those hams would be cut into sandwiches, and stay 
 the hunger of the people in the tidal train. It was the 
 Government plan for supplying the refreshment rooms. 
 
 " I had forgotten all about the octroi," said my 
 master. " The worst of it is, that this will happen at 
 every town at which you stop." 
 
 "You would have been better at Boulogne, aunt," 
 added Master Tom, " drinking a cup of nice tea with 
 Mrs. Smith, and taking little French rolls to her donkey 
 in the field. You could have eaten your own ham there, 
 you know, and now you will have to buy a sandwich if 
 you want to taste it." 
 
 It was not so .bad as that. The man had gone to 
 
MARIE. 25 
 
 weigh the hams and cheese. He came back with a 
 paper stating their weight, and how much must be paid 
 upon them. Mr. Eichards told him we were merely- 
 going to stay all night, so that it was quite certain they 
 would not be eaten in the city of Amiens. True, but 
 we might mean them for sale. This Miss Goodman 
 denied, with some anger, but the man was firm in say- 
 ing that the money must be paid before we could pass 
 into the town. 
 
 The French people, who had returned to their places 
 in the omnibus, began to think it was high time they 
 were suffered to pass into the town, for the wind was 
 very cold ; and they all put out their heads (there were 
 five of them), and scolded. This did not disturb the 
 man, who explained at some length that the goods 
 might be left^with him if we were going on to Paris by 
 the line we had just left, and reclaimed (as well as the 
 money to be paid on them) on his receipted paper being 
 produced ; or if we wished to leave Amiens in some 
 other direction, on every side we should find the barrier 
 of the octroi, and there we had nothing to do but to 
 produce his receipt, and show the hams and cheese in 
 an uncut state, in order to regain the money. 
 
 " If I were you, I should leave them with him till 
 to-morrow," said my master, who paid the money as 
 quickly as he could, and saw the things thrust back into 
 the hamper. 
 
26 MARIE. 
 
 Miss Goodman had too much fear of there being some 
 truth in what her nephew had said about the Govern- 
 ment and the refreshment rooms to consent to this ; but 
 at last, somehow or other, it was all done, money paid, 
 paper signed, and we did reach our hotel. 
 
 As if it was the custom of the country, just as we 
 were settling in came an agent of police, who sent the 
 landlord to ask for our passports. We were to have 
 ours restored in Paris, and we should have had no 
 trouble if Miss Goodman could have found hers; but 
 she was still quite bewildered with the bustle caused 
 by the hams and cheese, and vainly searched her bag 
 and pocket. Her nephew had his, and she wanted to 
 know if the receipt given her at the office of the octroi 
 would not do just as well. The landlord shook his 
 head, and withdrew. By-and-by the man from the 
 police came into the room to have a look at us all. We 
 were again under doubt. He could soon see poor Miss 
 Goodman was not much of a plotter, and he wa,s very 
 civil. He said, had there seemed to be cause for sus- 
 picion, she would have been sent back to Boulogne ; but 
 as the party was so respectable, she might go on to 
 Paris, on condition that, on arriving there, she would go 
 at once to the English embassy, and provide herself with 
 a fresh passport, which must be presented, without loss 
 of time, to the chief of the police, as it was his own duty 
 forthwith to report her as travelling without a passport. 
 
MARIE. 27 
 
 When he had left the room, Miss Goodman could 
 hardly help crying to think she should ever have come 
 to such a country ! 
 
 "This is nothing, aunt," said Master Tom; "wait 
 till you get to Paris ! You will have a spy to follow 
 you about, and ail you say at dinner will be written 
 down, and sent in to the Prefect of the Seine every 
 night; and when you go to get your passport they will 
 ask your age again, and you know you don't like any 
 one to know how old you are." 
 
 "You are a naughty boy," said his aunt. "I believe 
 you made me lose my passport by putting me to shame, 
 and puzzling my head. What made you tell those 
 French people that I had brandy and cigars among my 
 luggage ? I feel quite sure they were laughing at me 
 when they made such a noise. My sense of duty to 
 you brought me here, and nothing else ;. and that sense 
 of duty will carry me on to Tours, for I will not leave 
 you alone in such a country as this." 
 
 Master Tom shrugged his shoulders, a trick he had 
 learnt from the French. I fancy he had the passport in 
 his pocket the whole time, but that when he found the 
 want of it would not stop his aunt going on, he con 
 trived to slip it into a bag I carried, for there I found it 
 next morning, and there I am sure hands of mine never 
 put it. So I told him what I thought, but I did not 
 tell of him. 
 
28 MARIE. 
 
 This was the first time I had been in a country where 
 the great churches belonged to the Eoman Catholics, of 
 whom I am one, though not so regular as I ought to be, 
 having lodgers who keep me always on the move, as I 
 tell the priest. (The priest does not know what lodgers 
 are.) My master and mistress were good Church of 
 England people, but they let me do my duties when 1 
 could find the time. So, early in the n orning, I went 
 to the cathedral of Amiens, and heard a little of the 
 mass. There was something going on in about six dif- 
 ferent directions, and there might have been in twenty, 
 the building was so large. I could not tell what all 
 the services were, but I could see that a number of 
 little boys were being prepared for their first com- 
 munion in a chapel on one side, and even more girls in 
 a chapel on the other. I went out at a different door 
 from that by which I had come in, to avoid two beggars 
 who had thrust tin mugs close to my face, begging for 
 sous (that is, halfpence) ; but there was a couple just 
 like them in the outer porch ; and a lame woman, at 
 some distance, came hobbling towards me with such 
 surprising quickness that I almost had to run to get 
 out of her way, as I had no French money with me. 
 
 My master and his party, after seeing the cathedral, 
 went to the railway station sooner than was needed, 
 thinking there might be some delay in getting back the 
 money paid at the octroi office. While they were at 
 
MARIE. 29 
 
 the office I was left on the platform in charge of the 
 bags and baskets meant to be taken into the carriage. 
 At that time the trains from Belgium ran into the sta- 
 tion at Amiens, and some carriages went on, and others 
 were left. It happened that two or three carriages 
 were standing that had come in at midnight, and were 
 now to be sent off. Just opposite to where I was sit- 
 ting, a railway man, such as they would call a porter 
 in England, was putting them in order. I could hear a 
 little noise, like the mew of a cat, come from a carriage ; 
 so could this man. He jumped into the carriage and 
 looked all about it, and, under the seat, found a bundle 
 which looked like old clothes, but turned out to be a 
 baby. He screamed, and threw up his hands, but with- 
 out letting the baby fall, and came running to me, talk- 
 ing very fast. I could only shake my head, as I did 
 not know the meaning of what he said, but I took the 
 baby in my arms. Poor little thing! whoever had left 
 it there had wrapped it warmly up, and stuck some- 
 thing in its mouth to keep it quiet, and pinned a bit of 
 paper to its clothes to say that, when baptised, it was 
 to be called Charles Edward, or, as they write it in 
 French, " Charles Edouard." 
 
 The porter soon brought every one else belonging to 
 the station round me and the baby. They made such a 
 noise about it that I should have liked to run away, 
 but I held it till my mistress came to see what was the 
 
30 MARIE. 
 
 matter. Then she took it, and asked the porters what 
 would be done with it. " Was there any place for poor 
 foundlings in Amiens ?" It seemed rather against her 
 will to give it up to a leading man, who carried it off 
 to one of the offices. Just then my master came in 
 sight, and we went to tell him what had been found. 
 
 " What will be done with the poor little thing ?" said 
 my mistress. " My dear, I should so like you to go and 
 see what they are doing with it." 
 
 " Filling up a lot of papers about it," said my master ; 
 " twenty different papers, you may be sure. I have 
 just done with the hams, and now there is a new thing. 
 I wish Mary had never seen it. We may be kept here 
 about it." 
 
 We were not kept so as to lose our train, but I was 
 sent for to confirm the account of the porter who had 
 found the baby. I was examined in the station-master's 
 office, my master putting what I said into French. All 
 was put down in writing, and my master was told that, 
 as a great favour, I should be suffered to go on to Paris, 
 but that he must give them his address there and else- 
 where, that they might be able to bring me back at any 
 time in case of the death of the child, or of a number of 
 other things that might happen. They were very civil, 
 and got through it as quickly as they could that we 
 might not miss our train. I signed my name, and gave 
 a kiss to the poor baby. It was sucking chocolate, 
 
MARIE. 31 
 
 which a porter held to its lips. Some days afterwards, 
 my master saw in the newspapers that all the men held 
 a meeting on the platform, at which they agreed to 
 adopt the baby as the child of the station, each man 
 giving a small sum weekly out of his wages for its sup- 
 port. They also settled that it should be called " Charles 
 Edouard de la Gare," which means " Charles Edward of 
 the Eailway Station. " 
 
 Ours was a slow train, and it was quite dark long 
 before we reached Paris. I was alone in a second-class 
 carriage till we got to Creil Junction, where there is a 
 large station. Here there was a great bustle, and all 
 doors were thrown open to find places for a number of 
 new-comers. I was sitting next the door of my carriage. 
 The first man who came in, instead of passing me, would 
 have sat down in my lap had I not given a little cry, on 
 which he said " pardon/' and passed on. The next did 
 the very same thing, on which I cried louder, and he, 
 too, said "pardon," and felt if the seat he took was 
 empty. The third did the same, and so did all who 
 came, by which time I saw they were every one blind. 
 Nine seats were filled with blind men and women, and 
 a tenth got in who did sit down on the knee of my 
 opposite neighbour, who did not mind it, and an 
 eleventh was getting in, who would have sat down on 
 mine, but I made a noise (since I could not talk their 
 language), and the guard, looking in, saw all places 
 
32 MARIE. 
 
 filled, and pushed the rest into another carriage, taking 
 the odd man away too. I did not like being left with 
 nine blind people, and was in a great fidget till we 
 reached Paris. When my master found me in the car- 
 riage at the Paris Station, he was puzzled to know what 
 brought those blind people there, and asked the guard 
 what was the meaning of it. He said there had been a 
 concert at Beauvais for the benefit of the blind, and that 
 these poor people had been sent from an asylum for the 
 blind in Paris to give their help. Some were singers, 
 others good players on musical instruments — all people 
 of talent. 
 
 There was the octroi again, and again had the hams 
 and cheese to be weighed and paid for. We were tired, 
 and thought what we saw of Paris poor and gloomy till 
 we came to the Boulevard des Italiens, a wide and well- 
 lighted street, with gay shops. We left it for a street 
 less fully lighted, and that for a narrower street, less 
 lighted still, and then crossed the great thoroughfare of 
 old Paris, the street of St. Honore, and stopped before a 
 dark doorway, not wide enough to allow the entrance of 
 a carriage. On alighting, and walking through a dark 
 passage, we found ourselves in a courtyard, with tiers of 
 galleries running all round it. I had seen the same kind 
 of thing in a smaller way at some of the old-fashioned 
 English inns. The chief difference was that here the 
 walls seemed to be all windows. A number of people 
 
MARIE. 33 
 
 rushed to meet us, who, landlady, waiter, chambermaid, 
 and porter, all spoke English. This, instead of making 
 one feel more at home, made me, at least, feel more 
 bewildered. It was a cold night to walk round an open 
 gallery as the way to your bedroom, and to find nothing 
 but cold stones (that is to say, red tiles) beneath your 
 feet, with the hearth-rug put in the middle of the room 
 by way of carpet, and nothing but a folding door, that 
 was half of glass, between you and the outer air, which 
 had made you wince as if lashed with a whip. I 
 could have cried if I had not had to unpack. My own 
 room (a chamber they called it in the bill), though I 
 should have said it was a closet for a housemaid to keep 
 her brushes in, and her dusters, with only one pane of 
 glass let in to give some sort of light from the staircase 
 — well, such as it was, I thought I should never reach 
 it, and was so tired when I did, that I fell asleep in my 
 clothes, half sitting on the bed, half lying, and thinking 
 foreign countries were bad places, and that I would go 
 to no more, unless it were to Ireland, which was my 
 native country, barring that I was bom in Liverpool. 
 
 I woke with a start from a heavy sleep, and thought 
 at first I was in the old bed in a recess, in which I slept 
 with my mother in her last illness. That had shut- 
 ters, so that you could quite cut it off from the room, 
 and she always made me close them — to " make us com- 
 fortable," was her saying — but it nearly poisoned me 
 
 D 
 
34 MARIE. 
 
 and it was the bad air of my cupboard that brought back 
 my bed in the Isle of Man. 
 
 There was a great screaming close by me, and much 
 noise from below. I jumped up, and groping my way 
 out, stumbled over two French girls lying across my 
 doorway, on a mattress, on which they had stretched 
 themselves in their day clothes of woollen petticoats 
 and short jackets, with three or four nightcaps apiece 
 instead of their clean white day caps. There was a light 
 on the little landing where they lay, and I could see 
 others coming down from the very roof, and others rush- 
 ing up from below, most of them screaming and throw- 
 ing their arms about. What it all meant I could not 
 tell, but I followed the rest, and was frightened because 
 they were. They made for the nearest gallery. All in 
 the hotel had done the same thing, and some had 
 brought their sheets, and were tying them round the 
 balusters, so as to let themselves down, which made me 
 think that the house must be on fire. There were no 
 flames to be seen, but there was a great rush from below 
 to that side of the first floor gallery on which I had left 
 my mistress. I cried aloud in my distress for some one 
 to take me to her, and a gentleman near me said : 
 
 " Sure, my honey, just show me the way, I'll take ye 
 to your mistress. Is she a single lady ?" 
 
 With that he caught hold of my arm, and led or drew 
 me down. I kept asking if there was a fire. He said 
 
MARIE. 35 
 
 11 No ; but some kind of a powder-plot." There had 
 been a great noise that had shook the house, and broke 
 his windows, and that was all he could tell me. The 
 doors and windows of the side on which I had left our 
 party were all shattered, and many of them blown into 
 the court. There was not a pane left whole in the room 
 where I found my poor mistress and Miss Goodman. 
 They had got into a corner, and fenced themselves with 
 furniture, not knowing what was to happen next. They, 
 too, had been roused by an awful noise. 
 
 My mistress thought it must have been an earthquake ; 
 and " Oh, Mary," said she, with a very anxious face, 
 14 your master would go to learn what was the matter !" 
 
 "And so would Tom!" said Miss Goodman, with a 
 groan. 
 
 My new friend begged them to be calm ; or, as he put 
 it, "not to give way to the fears so natural to their 
 sex ; and," he might add, " so more than excusable, so 
 very interesting to their natural protectors. He came 
 from a country where no man could see a lady in dis- 
 tress without rushing to help her." 
 
 " I think, sir, you mean Ireland ?" said my mistress. 
 
 He bowed, and said, " Ma'am, I thank you for the 
 compliment to my country; for, sure, when I said I 
 could not see a female in distress without running to 
 help her, your unprejudiced mind said all at once to 
 itself, ' Then it's from Ireland this gentleman comes, for 
 
36 MARIE. 
 
 certain sure ;' but, ma'am, I do you wrong when I say it 
 was your mind that drew that correct conclusion. It 
 was your hear-r-rt, ma'am, your hear-r-rt. The heart, 
 ma'am, is a safer guide than the head. It told you my 
 country, when your ear would have told you I was 
 English ; being always, as I am, taken for an English- 
 man on account of the purity of my accent." 
 
 My mistress could not help smiling ; for, in spite of 
 what he said, it had been her ear rather than her heart 
 that told her he was Irish. She said, civilly, that she 
 was disposed to like Irish people, for the sake of a 
 servant (meaning me) who had lived with her long, and 
 been a good girl. She added that she wished she knew 
 where her husband was. 
 
 " And Tom !" said Miss Goodman, with a kind of howl. 
 
 1 ' Is it a Tom the dear lady is in fear for?" said the 
 stranger. " Never trouble about Toms, ma'am. Toms 
 and Jacks always fall on their feet. It's nine lives they 
 have — more's the pity for the friends of some of them. 
 If the good lady knew how many Toms there are at this 
 minute serving this old king here in Algiers, serving in 
 Spain, serving the Holy Father, all of them in scrapes, 
 always tumbling into them, always scrambling out of 
 them, she would not fear for any Toms of hers. But to 
 calm her excited feelings, I will go and make inquiries, 
 and you, ma'am, and you, my honey, need not fear but 
 that I will soon be back to take care of ye all." 
 
MARIE. 37 
 
 After an absence as short as lie could make it, Mr. 
 Lalor (for that was his name) did return, and told us 
 that all he could make out was that there had been some 
 men arrested in the hotel ; no one could say why. A 
 crowd had followed them, and he supposed my master 
 and Tom had gone among others. He ended with bid- 
 ding us be calm and cool many times over, and with a 
 good deal of warmth, and use of his hands, like the 
 French people. 
 
 Miss Goodman said no more about Tom, for she found 
 that naming him only drew upon her an assurance that 
 it was the fault of his name. 
 
 " Toms," said Mr. Lalor, " were a well-marked species 
 of the great human family." 
 
 Miss Goodman opened her eyes wide at this, and 
 groaned once in the minute. 
 
 My mistress wished aloud that we were all back 
 again in England. There had been nothing but troubles 
 since we left London. Mr. Lalor seemed to feel so 
 much for us that she gave him a little sketch of our 
 journey ; but he did not take up our trials with Mrs. 
 Smith as I should have expected from a gentleman of 
 his feeling. 
 
 What he said was: "Ma'am, I can well understand 
 that it must try a lady of your taste to see your aunt 
 waste her feelings upon a mere jackass. I wish the old 
 lady (begging her pardon for calling her old) long life, 
 
38 MARIE. 
 
 and a better taste. But the feeling is there, the right 
 feeling, ma'am. You must try to raise it. It's myself 
 shall tell her (if I ever see her, which I never may), 
 t Ma'am, I honour your feeling, but it's with your hor-r-se 
 you should travel, as I do myself. It's with him I go 
 in the truck ; it's by him I sleep ; and, madam, it's 
 you I'd advise to do the same !' But it's odds she'd be 
 open to reason if I did harangue her, for your sex is all 
 heart, and mine all head." 
 
 My master came in as he said this. AVe were very 
 glad to see him, but he could tell us no more than we 
 knew already. When asked for Tom, he cried out : 
 
 " Bless me ! is the boy not here ? I know nothing 
 about him. I do think I saw him in the court-yard, but 
 I am hardly sure even of that. I'll go downstairs and 
 inquire." 
 
 " And I'll go, too, and question such of them as speak 
 English," said Mr. Lalor. " I know no French, that is 
 no speaking French, barring the words for ' hay,' and 
 ' oats,' and ' water   (which I was bound to learn for the 
 sake of my horse) ; but I must do something to calm 
 these ladies. One has lost a beloved nephew, the other 
 a young friend. Who can tell how it may work on 
 their excitable natures ! Sir, they are not like you or 
 me. We, sir, are hard, dry reasoners. Facts, sir, are 
 our guides and logic ! They are led by feeling and im- 
 pulse. Something must be done to calm them. Will I 
 
MARIE. 39 
 
 go to the head of the police, or is it the English ambas- 
 sador would be the better man ?" 
 
 " I hope there is no need to trouble you or any one 
 else," said my master. " Tom has, no doubt, followed 
 the crowd, as I did myself. When I found myself no 
 wiser, I came back, and he will do the same. He 
 speaks French better than I do, and knows quite as well 
 how to take care of himself. If he is not in the hotel, I 
 shall speak to the porter to let him in, and send him to 
 you, Miss Goodman, as soon as he comes." 
 
 Mr. Eichards heard nothing of Master Tom, but 
 managed to procure the use of two rooms, with un- 
 broken windows, where we snatched a little sleep. 
 
 At the ten o'clock breakfast there was no Tom, and 
 his aunt's fears were roused by what she heard of the 
 disturbance in the night. 
 
 Two men had been arrested in the hotel, charged with 
 a plot against the King's life. It was said that a barrel 
 of a frightful machine of their making had burst, causing 
 the noise most people had heard (though I did not), and 
 the damage to the house. This led to their being found 
 out, and it was said others were mixed up with them, 
 and that many arrests were being made in Paris. 
 
 Mr. Lalor and my master went to the police, think- 
 ing that there was just a chance they might have swept 
 Tom away in their general haul of the doubtful people 
 they thought good to detain. 
 
40 MARIE. 
 
 He was not, however, in their keeping. They under- 
 took to let us know if they should hear of him, but made 
 light of his absence on learning that he had been at 
 school in Paris. They thought he had most likely 
 found his way back to his old friends. " We should see 
 him at dinner. He would be very hungry by that time, 
 and hunger was a powerful magnet." 
 
 " I do not think of dining here, Miss Goodman," said 
 my master. " This place is so upset with last night's 
 work, that I must take my wife to a more comfortable 
 hotel as quickly as I can. I should advise you to come 
 with us. This gentleman, who means to stay where he 
 is, very kindly says that he will bring your nephew to 
 you on his return." 
 
 My master wished to be done with Tom for the pre- 
 sent, but his aunt was not to be made easy. 
 
 " He may have been killed in the confusion," said 
 she ; " or at least wounded. He may be lying helpless 
 and wounded at this moment, no one knows where ! He 
 may have jumped from a gallery in his fright, and been 
 taken to the hospital ! He may have run away in a 
 panic, and fallen into the hands of robbers, and be lying 
 at the bottom of the river " 
 
 " Then it's to the Morgue I'll take ye," burst in Mr. 
 Lalor. 
 
 " Is that a hospital?" asked Miss Goodman. 
 
 " No, my good lady. It's where they put the poor 
 
MARIE. 41 
 
 people who can give no account of themselves (whom they 
 find in the river, you know). Don't look so frightened ; 
 you won't find him there, trust me. Toms are never 
 
 drowned. You may have him " he was going to say 
 
 " hanged," but his politeness made him stifle the word, 
 
 " I'll take you to the Morgue first to soothe your 
 mind. After that we'll go to all the hospitals ; and then, 
 if you like, we'll go to his school." 
 
 " Better go there first," said Mr. Eichards. 
 
 Mr. Lalor seemed to prefer to take the more exciting 
 places first ; but gave way very civilly. I think he was 
 not unwilling my master should stay with his wife, and let 
 him have the lead in something with a little stir in it. 
 
 11 And, madam," added he, turning to my mistress, 
 " y 'ou feel, don't ye, that I will take care of your friend? 
 She is the creature of impulse ! She is all heart, I am 
 all head ! By herself, she would be all blaze — a lovely 
 blaze, ending in smoke — I mean with no useful lasting 
 heat. By myself I should be too hard to warm, too 
 free from prejudice and passion— as dry as a bone — as 
 hard as a hammer, and as knock-me-down ! The two 
 together would be equal to greater efforts than finding 
 out what has become of a young gentleman of thirteen 
 or thereabouts !" 
 
 Miss Goodman was easily bewildered at any time. 
 Now, half admiring Mr. Lalor, half puzzled by him, she 
 just did as she was bid, and made ready to go with him. 
 
42 MARIE. 
 
 My mistress undertook that I should pack her 
 things, and that, when we had found rooms, a note 
 should he sent to let her know where they were. 
 
 It was with a sense of relief that we saw the two quit 
 the courtyard. 
 
 " He flatters himself greatly," said my mistress, " if 
 he thinks he is all head." 
 
 " Let us hope our friend Miss Goodman is all heart," 
 replied my master, " for she is badly off in the other 
 respect. But Lalor is a droll fellow. He prides him- 
 self on being taken for one of us English, yet, so far as 
 such a polite man can, he makes us out to be very poor 
 creatures beside the Irish. He laid down to me as we 
 went along, that he knew himself to be too matter-of- 
 fact, but he had so made it his aim to shun the faults and 
 follies of the Irish character that he feared he had lost 
 its charms. He was as free from impulse as from 
 brogue ! He asked me if I did not think so. Of course 
 I said ' yes,' and with a safe conscience. Then he 
 would take me to see his horse. It is a fine bay — a 
 better hobby than poor Joseph. He has two cousins in 
 the South of France, for the winter, and he is going to 
 ride it down there. When at home, he lives mostly with 
 his eldest brother, who has a country place. He did not 
 like to leave the horse there, lest his nephews and the 
 boys hanging about, should ride it to death. Irish boys 
 could not be trusted with horseflesh ; they would ride 
 
MARIE. 43 
 
 it across country till they broke its neck. He always 
 feeds it himself for fear of ostler's tricks, and he fretted 
 at not having time to give it proper exercise to-day, on 
 account of all this bustle." 
 
 That afternoon we left our shattered hotel, and found 
 rooms in a hotel looking into the garden of the Tuileries. 
 The Eue de Eivoli, in which we were, and the Boule- 
 vard des Italiens, were about the only bits of .the Paris 
 of that time which looked like the greater part of the 
 present Paris. 
 
 The Eue de Eivoli was new-looking, straight, and 
 formal. Then it only ran from the Place de la Concorde 
 to the Tuileries; but this Emperor has completed it, 
 and it is now the main street, supplanting the old one 
 of St. Honore, with which it runs in a line. Such 
 changes have been made since this Emperor came in ! 
 
 I hardly knew Paris again when I went there this year 
 by the cheap train which was to run for five francs, that 
 we Nantes people might go to see the Prince Imperial 
 take his first communion. (They cheated us, however, 
 for that rite took place in the Emperor's own chapel, 
 where the public had no chance of going.) I sought for 
 the hotel where there was such a stir on our first night 
 in Paris ; but I could not even make out where it had 
 stood. It had been pulled down to make room for one 
 of the new courts of the Louvre, and on my asking for 
 it, I was taken to a new hotel, bearing the same name, 
 
44 MARIE. 
 
 but in another street. It had had the fate of our old 
 hotel in having been the scene of a plot for murder, as 
 it was there that Orsini was lodging when he went to 
 throw the bombs at the Emperor. 
 
 The Louvre was finished and joined to the Tuileries, 
 the Eue de Eivoli stretched half way through the city, 
 and the Boulevard des Italiens went farther still, under 
 two or three names. Of course, last year I found it all 
 complete, and with more of the gay shops in which they 
 sell the pretty toys and trinkets for which Paris has 
 such a name. There were more cafes, which of them- 
 selves make a street look lively, and it was far cleaner 
 under foot. 
 
 On the other hand, when I was first in Paris hardly 
 any coal was burnt there ; now it is in such common 
 use that Paris may, in time, grow as grimy as London. 
 It seems to me that, on my first visit, the city looked 
 brighter. At any rate, I had never seen anything so 
 pretty as that boulevard. 
 
 What struck me most were the cafes — a word I must 
 explain, as we have nothing like them in England. A 
 cafe is a sort of inn where you cannot lodge. Some 
 cafes are clubs for artists, merchants, and even workmen 
 of different trades. At many you can only procure 
 coffee and light drinks, or ices. Others are cookshops 
 besides, and have rooms in which a dinner may be served 
 for a single person or for a party. 
 
MARIE. 45 
 
 All have a large room for those who only sip coffee or 
 ice, with newspapers spread on little round tables, at 
 which they can sit apart. These rooms are, for the most 
 part, painted white, and adorned with gay patterns in 
 colours or gilding, with many looking-glasses let into 
 panels. The tables and counters have tops of white 
 marble, and pots of flowers and creeping plants, or well- 
 made copies of both, make it all very lively and tempting. 
 On the pavement outside, whenever the day is fine, even 
 into the winter season, little tables are set out, where the 
 weary or idle passer-by may pause, drop into a chair, 
 and call for coffee and a paper. In summer a bright- 
 coloured awning is stretched overhead, and the green 
 leaves of the planes and chestnuts shade and refresh 
 you ; that is to say, if there has been no change of rulers 
 lately, nothing to disturb the peace. They do say you 
 can tell the date of the last tumult by these trees, for, at 
 such times of trouble, the poor things are always cut 
 down that they may be piled up with stones torn from 
 the pavement to make what are called "barricades," 
 that is, fences behind which rioters may take good aim 
 at the soldiers brought out to quell them, and avoid being 
 marked themselves. I have seen two sets of these trees 
 myself; those planted to replace the trees cut down 
 in 1830, when the old King came in, and those grown 
 since 1848, when he was driven out. 
 
 You can fancy nothing more unlike bustling and 
 
46 MARIE. 
 
 dingy London than Paris when I first saw it. There 
 was not the same hurry. Few people walked fast. 
 Everything was ordered to please the eye of people who 
 were at leisure, and of those wholly idle. In London, 
 though no doubt there are people as idle as anywhere 
 else, little is done outwardly to provide for their 
 likings, whereas in Paris they have, in some measure, 
 the command of the streets, For them are cafes, shaded 
 pavements, and shop windows set out with taste ; for 
 them a distinct name in the language, which it is very 
 hard to express even in four or five English words, for 
 that one word flaneur means an easy loiterer along pave- 
 ments, pleased to gaze at all that chances. 
 
 Underfoot it must be said that it was then a very 
 dirty old Paris ; dusty in dry weather, very muddy in 
 wet. The streets were narrow, and overhung with old 
 houses, but they differed from each other more than they 
 do now. To-day they are mostly cut by one pattern, 
 new, stiff, and straight. TV hen I think of the older 
 Paris and the new, some verses out of a child's book 
 come into my head : 
 
 M I cannot aver that the streets are straight, 
 For they wind about at a comical rate ; 
 But, after all, would it pleasant be, 
 To be going straight on continually ?" 
 
 Dinner-time brought us Mr. Lalor and Miss Goodman, 
 but without Tom, whom they had hoped to find with 
 
MARIE. 47 
 
 us. They had seen his old master, who said that, early 
 that morning, his household had been roused by Tom, 
 who gave such an account of dreadful things going on 
 in Paris that, for a short time, all were in confusion and 
 dismay. He had himself been somewhat troubled, for, 
 as a teacher of Frenchmen, he was a lover of order. In 
 his haste to go to the scene of tumult, he had lost sight 
 of his former pupil ; but he felt sure that Tom must 
 have left before he did. 
 
 On quitting the school himself he had given orders 
 to the under-masters that the boys should be consignee, 
 or (as we should say in English) forbidden to leave the 
 schoolroom. He should advise his aunt not to distress 
 herself, as he thought h^r nephew quite able to take 
 care of himself. " And," added Mr. Lalor, " he said that 
 with a shrug of the shoulders that showed me that he 
 was of my own mind about Toms and Jacks." 
 
 Miss Goodman agreed to eat her dinner with a certain 
 amount of composure. As night came on she grew 
 uneasy again, and seemed to have fretted more than 
 slept, to judge by her look next morning. Mr. Lalor 
 rode into the court before breakfast, and, as she had no 
 news of Tom, repeated his offer to go with her to 
 the Morgue. He had taken his horse for an hour's 
 ride out of Paris, and so had nothing more to do till he 
 gave him his second feed for the day. 
 
 As soon as breakfast was over, the couple started 
 
48 MARIE. 
 
 while my master went to make further inquiries of the 
 police. They still made light of the matter, thinking 
 Tom was taking a day or two for his own whims ; "but 
 said that if he did not return shortly we should look for 
 him near his former school. 
 
 Mr. Lalor and Miss Goodman did not return till 
 dinner-time. They seemed to have been doing a great 
 deal of sight-seeing under the name of seeking Tom, 
 for, besides the Morgue, they had been to some of the 
 hospitals, and seen a number of the worst cases of 
 accident. Miss Goodman was not only cheered by not 
 having found her nephew in any of these dismal places, 
 but rather glad she had seen them. She talked so much 
 more than usual that Mr. Lajor said, with pride, " You 
 see how I have soothed her, ma'am." 
 
 My master and mistress could have done without 
 hearing of the horrors she had seen, but it seemed to do 
 her good to dwell on them. Towards night she became 
 uneasy again, and dwelt on the thought that Tom might 
 only not be in the Morgue, because he was still lying 
 in the river. 
 
 Next morning Mr. Lalor brought a letter, addressed 
 to Miss Goodman at our former hotel. It was not 
 signed, but said it was from " a true friend." Whoever 
 this friend might be (and my master put him down at 
 once to be Tom himself), he told her that her nephew 
 was in prison, in solitary confinement, with scanty food, 
 
MARIE. 49 
 
 and no prospect but that of being taken to a worse gaol. 
 There was reason to think that her plan of sending 
 Tom to Tours had drawn upon her the ill-will of the 
 King, as Tours was a centre of the party of the elder 
 branch of the Bourbons, whose place Louis Philippe had 
 taken on the throne. The writer ended by saying that 
 her nephew would be set free on her giving her word of 
 honour not to remove him from his former school, as 
 there he would be under the eye of a master well looked 
 upon by the powers that were. There was this for a 
 postscript : " I know that the word ' Suspect ' is written 
 in large letters in the books of the police opposite to the 
 name of your nephew, and I am told that your name 
 is marked as ' semi-suspect' or half-suspected, on ac- 
 count of your being the aunt of one so daring and so 
 likely to give trouble to all who try to rule over 
 him." 
 
 Mr. Lalor hardly heard my master read it to the end, 
 before crying, " My dear sir, it's fighting this may 
 lead to ! The two countries may go to war over this 
 young gentleman ! To hunger him I — to keep him with- 
 out a soul to speak to ! Will we go to the old King 
 straight off, and take this afflicted lady in widow's weeds 
 to show ' she feels like a mother to him ?' They say 
 the King loves peace. Or we will call in Holy Church — 
 it's a short way to the Archbishop's " 
 
 " Do read the letter yourself," said my master. " 1 
 
 E 
 
50 MARIE. 
 
 do not think I ever told you that the boy had a great 
 dislike to going to Tours, and let us all know it." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Eichards !" said Miss Goodman, " I cannot 
 think how you can suppose that the poor boy would try to 
 pass off stories on his aunt who brought him up. Think 
 of my passport that was missing at Amiens, and all the 
 questions the landlord put, and that other man ! They 
 marked us down then, no doubt, because I could not 
 find my passport, and you know it was in Mary's bag, 
 after all." 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," said I, speaking up ; " but I know my 
 hands never put it there, and it's my belief that Master 
 Tom's did. He owned it to me by his smiling, and more 
 than that, he told me, * I should see if his aunt ever got 
 him to Tours.'" 
 
 My master cut us all short by asking Miss Goodman 
 to go with him to the school where her nephew had last 
 been seen, and try to trace him, making that their start- 
 ing-point. Miss Goodman at once caught up a new 
 fancy, which was, that his former master might be keep- 
 ing him out of the way to punish her for removing him. 
 This made her eager to go to the school ; so away they 
 went, and this time they had Master Tom to show for 
 their pains. 
 
 He looked rather sheepish the first time I saw him, 
 but carried it off to me as a good bit of fun, when no 
 one was by to hear him. 
 
MARIE. 51 
 
 " 111 tell you all about it, Mary," said he. " It was 
 all chance, you know ; I only went down to find out 
 what was the matter. All at once it came into my 
 head what fun it would be to go and frighten old Simon 
 (that was our master, you know) out of his wits, and 
 perhaps get the fellows a holiday. 
 
 u He tried to spoil it all by shutting them up in the 
 schoolroom (put them under * consign,' as they call it 
 here), but, perhaps, his orders were not so strictly 
 carried out as he thought. Before he had turned his 
 back on the school, I had settled what to do. 
 
 " There were two fellows who used to look up to me, 
 and to do as I told them. They agreed to help me to 
 hide iu a garret, where I had been used to give them 
 famous supper-parties when we could smuggle anything 
 in from the cookshop. This garret was quite out of the 
 way, and only used for stowing empty boxes. We had 
 never known anyone go there but just before the holi- 
 days to bring them down to be packed, so I felt sure I 
 could conceal myself there till I made better terms with 
 that aunt of mine, who will not listen to reason about 
 Tours, which is no place for a fellow of my age who 
 has been used to Paris. 
 
 U A mere country town, Mary. Well, I told them 
 what to do, and somehow they managed to get out and 
 buy what I wanted. I had plenty of money, and I was 
 very hungry, so I gave large orders. I was forced to 
 
52 MARIE. 
 
 let them lock me in, lest anj^one should wander that 
 way by chance. I told them to take the key out, 
 and hide it in some place known to both, that, if one 
 were hindered, the other might still be able to come 
 to me. 
 
 " I then set about arranging my boxes to fill up the 
 time. I thought it was like acting c Eobinson Crusoe,' 
 and I called one box my table, and another my chair, 
 and I ' made me a bed,' as he says, only mine was of 
 carpet bags and old wrappers. He did not have such 
 good things to eat though, Mary, for they brought me a 
 partridge pie, with truffles in it, and one of those sweet 
 little hams you see in the windows (with paper frills 
 round the bone, you know), no bigger than your two 
 hands. I had some bottles of wine, besides, and some 
 candles and novels, and I did not mind the fellows going 
 and leaving me locked in one bit. Indeed, if they had 
 staid, I must have asked them to have some of my pie, 
 and I felt as if I could eat it all. 
 
 " Now, don't stop me to lecture. I am not greedy. 
 Not one of them will say so, not even those I cannot 
 get on with. I was hungry, and when that was over I 
 grew sleepy, so I laid down and did not wake till the 
 afternoon. 
 
 " When it was dusk, and I thought I might venture, 
 I got through a window and took a little airing on the 
 roof. It was so cold that I soon came in again. Then 
 
MARIE. 53 
 
 I lighted a candle and read till I felt hungry again, and 
 having made a good supper I again went to sleep. 
 
 " Next morning I missed soap and water more than T 
 should have guessed beforehand. When my friends 
 stole to see me while my aunt was with the master 
 down below, I told them that if they would bring me a 
 basin of water and some soap I would ask them to 
 supper that night. They shook their heads over it, and 
 one of them said I ought to try to rough it. He was 
 sure madame would find out if they even lent me a bit 
 of soap. I knew she had a keen eye for the ' soaps,' as 
 she called them, so I told them to buy me some, and to 
 let me have a little change of diet, and some paper that 
 I might write to my aunt, for I began to think there 
 would be too much sameness about my life up there. 
 So I made up a letter, and she would have taken it all 
 in if it had not been for that master of yours, and that 
 Irishman, who might have been at home with all my 
 heart. 
 
 " Then I tried to vary my airing by climbing to see 
 what was on the other side of the roof, just as Robinson 
 Crusoe went to the other side of his island. If he saw 
 the print of a man's foot, I saw the crowns of two high 
 Norman caps. 
 
 " Two great girls from the country, whom Madame 
 used to scold all day long, had just turned their backs, 
 and were going in, so I had an escape. They had been 
 
54 MABIE. 
 
 hanging out the clothes, as they do on the housetops 
 here, on cords pushed out by sticks.* 
 
 " I sat rae down among the wet and flapping linen, 
 and had a fine view of the fellows' little gardens down 
 below in the large garden, and of what had been mine 
 among the rest, and I thought the fun of this would not 
 last much longer, and that I might find it duller than 
 Tours, and I tried to raise my spirits by mewing like a 
 cat. That brought back the girls, but I heard them 
 coming in time to get away, and hide behind a chimney. 
 One only had courage to seek the cat. The other staid 
 below, crying out that she was sure it was the neigh- 
 bour's black cat, and that she should fall off the roof for 
 fear if it were to rush by her, for that all black cats 
 were evil spirits in disguise. 
 
 " You would have laughed to hear it if you had seen 
 the girl lift a sack of flour with ease, as I did once. 
 Well, she stood screaming how frightened she was, and 
 calling the supposed cat pretty soothing names by turns, 
 till I was tired of that, too. 
 
 " My friends came at last, and I drew a champagne- 
 cork to show how glad I was to see them. We had 
 forgotten it would make a noise, and were in a fright 
 for some time after, but no one was roused. The fellows 
 drank my health, and I made them speeches. I did not 
 
 * A practice to be seen in Edinburgh as well as Paris. 
 
MARIE, 55 
 
 give them too much wine, lest they should be noisy, and 
 found out. 
 
 " Oh what a night I had with ' the rats and the mice 
 kicking up a strife !' They had found out that I kept a 
 good larder. 
 
 "Next morning I told my two allies that I must be 
 off, unless they could procure me the company of the 
 house cat, but my career came to an end that very day. 
 It was short, but jolly ; don't you think so, Mary ?" 
 
 " I am glad you think so, Master Tom," said I. " I 
 know it's of no use to tell you how much trouble you 
 have given people ; but our stay in Paris is to be cut 
 short, lest you should play us such another trick, so that, 
 in my humble opinion, all you will gain by it is that 
 you will find yourself at Tours so much the sooner." 
 
 " Oh ! that's your moral, is it, Mary ? I am not at 
 Tours yet, though I am only sorry now that I spent 
 such a heap of money on my grub. I had enough to 
 have paid for a ticket to England." 
 
 Master Tom would not tell me how he was found, 
 but I learnt from my mistress that M. Simon had been 
 asked to allow the boys to be questioned as to when and 
 how Tom had left his school. Two were pointed out as 
 his chief friends, and it was soon observed that they 
 were afraid or unwilling to give plain answers. 
 
 Their master at once put on the air of a judge, and 
 wrung from them that Tom was at that moment hidden 
 
56 MARIE. 
 
 in the house. The two were thereupon sent to him 
 with a message that he had better descend at once, and 
 not compel M. Simon to " rise means which might wound 
 his self-love." 
 
 M. Simon was flattered — he could not but own it — that 
 his former pupil should give so strong a proof of love for 
 his school ; still his love of order led him to lament that 
 so bad an example should be shown the rest of bis boys. 
 
 Tom came down, putting on as good a face as be 
 could. He was clever enough to try to bring his master 
 to bis aid. Had Mr. Eichards and Mr. Lalor not been 
 there, Miss Goodman might have had a bard struggle 
 against the boy and the master, but with their help her 
 self-will (of which she had a good deal, in a quiet way) 
 got the better of that of her nephew. 
 
 Mr. Lalor's powers of speech were used to convince 
 M. Simon, " by close, hard reasoning," as he called it, that 
 to suffer Tom to remain, after what he had done, would 
 injure the boy and the school. So Tom was brought 
 back like a prisoner, and would have been watched, 
 had he not given his word to cause no more trouble. 
 He comforted himself with dwelling on all the dreadful 
 things that might happen between Paris and Tours. 
 
 To listen to him, you would think it no wonder if 
 there were to be an earthquake, and all to stop a 
 naughty boy from going to a school he did not like. 
 
 Mr. Lalor, who would sooner have left Paris, had it 
 
MARIE. 57 
 
 not been for his desire to be of use, now began to ask my 
 master's advice as to bis journey. He wished to ride part 
 of the way from Paris to Orleans on horseback, in order 
 to see the country, which he had been told was pretty. 
 
 Mr. Eichards went with him to the railway station 
 to engage a horse-truck, to be sent to meet him when 
 he should be tired of riding. This was no such easy 
 matter to settle as one would think. First of all, it was 
 a long time before Mr. Lalor could be brought to make 
 up his mind as to where he would have the truck to 
 meet him. He did not seem clearly to know how 
 needful it was to fix a time and place, and keep to it, 
 when he had to do with railways. Next, the chief of 
 the station treated it as if it were a solemn affair, not a 
 thing that happened daily. He said that, as the " appli- 
 cation was somewhat unusual, a formal letter must be 
 sent to the board." He drew out several forms which 
 my master had to translate for Mr. Lalor, who filled 
 them up. An answer was slow in coming, but it did 
 come at last. 
 
 Mr. Lalor packed his bag and came to bid all good-bye. 
 He said he had spent part of the time he had been 
 delayed in adding to his knowledge of French. He 
 came into the country with three words for his horse : 
 " Hay, oats, and water ;" now, he had learnt three for 
 himself, " AVine, bread, and eggs :" and with the six he 
 could go through that country or any other. 
 
58 MARIE. 
 
 We were not long in following him. My master and 
 mistress had often been in Paris, and found it so cold 
 this time that they wished to leave, and Miss Goodman 
 could not be easy till her nephew was safe at Tours ; 
 so what with the bustle about Master Tom, and the 
 shortness of our stay, I did not see very much of that 
 famous city. Most of what I saw is altered now. The 
 place I found least changed was the garden of the 
 Tuileries. When my mistress was out I used to go and 
 sit there, as it was just across the street ; and when I 
 could not leave the hotel, I took my sewing into my mis- 
 tress's bedroom, that I might see it from the window. 
 
 My great amusement was to look at the nurses and 
 babies. Nicer-looking babies I never saw, nor any caps 
 and aprons so white as those worn by the nurses. I 
 used to wonder how they could keep them of so good a 
 colour with so short a supply of water as they had then 
 in Paris. I am told they have plenty of water now. 
 Many of these nurses came from a distance, and wore 
 caps with high crowns or large wings, which seemed 
 very strange to me. I was told that each was proud of 
 the cap of her own village, and thought those of other 
 villages highly absurd ; now, they are all laying aside 
 the head-dress that marked whence they came for the 
 commonplace cap of Paris. 
 
 There was always a sprinkling of negresses and 
 women of colour from the French colonies, with little 
 
MARIE. 59 
 
 Creole children. As links between them and the Nor- 
 man or Picard rmrses, were those from Bordeaux or 
 other places in the South of France, burnt by the sun to 
 as deep a colour as if they came of some race from over 
 sea, and wearing what is called " a Madras," that is, a 
 gaily-tinted pocket-handkerchief bound round the head, 
 with an end left dangling at one side. 
 
 A large number of the children were dressed entirely 
 in white, or in blue and white, even to having blue or 
 white shoes. I thought this was one of the fashions of 
 the day, but I learnt afterwards that these were chil- 
 dren whose parents had vowed that, if they got better 
 from some illness, they should wear blue or white, the 
 colours in which painters dress the Virgin Mary. In 
 some cases this vow is made to last till the children 
 reach the age of seven ; in others till ten, the age when 
 they are confirmed, and receive their first communion. 
 Poor people make a cord of blue, or blue and white, 
 worn round the waist, do instead of a dress, which it 
 would cost them too much to keep up. 
 
 I could not but notice that the little boys had far 
 more playthings, in the shape of guns and soldiers, than 
 you would see among as many boys in England, and 
 that the little pictures they sometimes brought out with 
 them were mostly of soldiers and fighting. All the talk 
 at that time was of the fortifications in course of making 
 to keep the English and the Prussians from ever getting 
 
60 MARIE. 
 
 into Paris again. I saw them, for the first time, the day 
 we left Paris for Orleans. They lay just beyond the 
 station. Had I not been told to look out for them, I 
 should have taken them for dry ditches, rather bigger 
 than common. Now the talk is, that the streets are 
 made straight that they may be made easy to clear with 
 cannon, and so that those inside Paris may be kept 
 under with little trouble. 
 
 I suppose one thing or the other will be going on to 
 the end of the chapter, but my husband, and some friends 
 of his whom the priest does not like, say that a day will 
 come when there will be no war at all, but that the 
 world will do what it is bid by some one very wise who 
 is to live at Paris. I let them talk, but it makes me 
 laugh to think that Ireland, let alone England, should 
 be at the word of those who never saw either. I do tell 
 them they should go and see those countries before they 
 settle what is to befall them, for no one in England 
 would believe how little is known of us in France. 
 
 I have been asked by well-to-do people who keep good 
 shops whether we had fruit or flowers in England, and 
 some good folks were quite comforted to hear that people 
 in England might be called Christians. The fact is that 
 French for the most part know little about any country 
 but their own, and care less, turning this ignorance into 
 vainglory. However, they do not say much to me now 
 I have the use of my tongue in French ; for, as my first 
 
MABIE. 61 
 
 lodger said, though it might be he was making a 
 little fun of me, " Mary, your powers of speech are so 
 great." 
 
 When we left Paris it was late in the afternoon, and 
 the fortifications were almost the last things we could 
 see plainly. Though it was growing late in the year, 
 the day had been very warm, and I found it very close, 
 as the other people in the railway carriage would keep 
 the windows shut. Some people in France have such a 
 dread of draughts that they will scarcely let you have 
 
 fresh air unless you sit quite out of doors. My master 
 
 a* 
 
 fell in with a party of this kind. Master Tom and 
 he could not find places in the same carriage with 
 Miss Goodman and my mistress, but were packed 
 by the guard in a carriage full of Frenchmen, as they 
 thought at first. After a few minutes they saw that 
 a sickly-looking young man in a corner-seat was 
 English. 
 
 On leaving the station, he opened the window ; at 
 which, up sprung a Frenchman, who shut it again. 
 The Englishman, who could speak no French, coloured, 
 but put it down again in a quiet manner. The French- 
 man rose again, with a fierce grimace and a jump, and 
 shut the window with a slam. The Englishman opened 
 it again. They were now near fighting. The English- 
 man squared his fists ; the Frenchman raised a cane to 
 strike him. Master Tom caught him by the coat, and 
 
62 MARIE, 
 
 my master got between him and the window, to which 
 he got his back. 
 
 " Don't yon see," said he, in French, " that this gen- 
 tleman is in bad health, and suffers from want of air?" 
 
 The Frenchman was in too great a passion to be civil, 
 let alone thoughtful for people in ill-health. He raised 
 his cane to strike my master, who caught him at the 
 back by his coat collar, saying he would throw him 
 through the window if he dared to touch him. The 
 other Frenchmen rose from their seats, and all talked, 
 or rather screamed, at once, seeming to think the 
 struggle had something to do with the old fights be- 
 tween the English and the French. " Pigs of English- 
 men!" cried one; but Master Tom made use of his 
 slang French in reply, and, as my master said, showed 
 it was quite time he was taken from his old school. 
 Tom and the young man who had brought on the quar- 
 rel kept off the rest, and my master held the man with 
 the cane by the back of the neck till they came to the 
 next station. There both sides shouted for the guard, 
 to settle the law of right to the window. The English 
 were sure any man with a sense of justice must lay 
 down the English rule, that the person facing the 
 engine, with his right hand to a window, had command 
 of that window — fair command, not a tyrant's power. 
 The guard, however, counted heads, and said the greater 
 number ought to carry their will and pleasure. It was 
 
MARIE. 63 
 
 of little matter, for the Frenchmen all got out at the 
 next station, but there was noise enough for something 
 worse. 
 
 It was quite dark when we reached Orleans, so that I 
 saw nothing of the great plain in which that city lies 
 till next morning, when Miss Goodman took Master 
 Tom and me to the top of one of the western towers of 
 the Cathedral. I thought I had never seen so wide a 
 flat before. It was pretty to look down on the vine- 
 yards lying all round the city, and on the wide river 
 Loire, crossed by a fine bridge, over which we went on 
 coming down. For so broad a river, it had so many 
 shoals and little islands of sand as to take off from its 
 handsome look, by making you think of what it must be 
 in dry summers when boats sometimes stick fast in it. 
 The vineyards I thought rather shabby when you came 
 close to them. I had looked to see the vines climbing 
 up poles, or hanging from tree to tree, but I found them 
 mostly tied to sticks, and looking no better than rasp- 
 berry or currant bushes. Many of these vines had 
 leaves of the same colour as those of the copper-beech 
 in England. We were told that these vines were grown 
 in great numbers round Orleans for the purpose of 
 colouring the wine made from the grapes of the Loire 
 (which are mostly white) for those buyers who prefer 
 red wine. 
 
 ^Yhen we were sight-seeing, my poor mistress was 
 
64 MARIE. 
 
 lying on the sofa with a bad headache. She had had 
 hardly any sleep all night, owing to the whining of a 
 dog in the stable-yard. My master, dreading a second 
 night of the same kind (as he was told the dog fretted 
 because parted from its master, who was staying in the 
 hotel), went to find where it was kept, that he might 
 have it put somewhere out of hearing. The ostler 
 agreed to remove it to another stable-yard, and my 
 master went with him to make sure that the thing was 
 done. Some one in that yard was making a great noise 
 by kicking and thumping a stable-door from inside. On 
 the ostler calling out to ask who was there, a voice 
 shouted in French: "Hay! Oats! Water! Bread! 
 Eggs ! Wine !" 
 
 " That must be Lalor," cried Mr. Eichards. 
 
 "Wine! Water! Oats! Eggs!" cried the voice. 
 
 " Why, Lalor, how came you here?" 
 
 " Let me out first, my good fellow, and ask me ques- 
 tions after. It's a trick they have in this country. I 
 make a point of feeding my horse, and they lock me in 
 out of spite. I'm tired of kicking the door. I'll sue 
 that ostler fellow for wear and tear of patience and the 
 damage done to the toes of my boots." 
 
 The ostler was so openly amused that my master 
 thought him guiltless of locking up Mr. Lalor on pur- 
 pose, and made his peace with our Irish friend, who 
 went at once to change his dress, that he might be fit to 
 
MARIE. 65 
 
 see the ladies. Miss Goodman, who had a way of seem- 
 ing very much surprised by every little thing that hap- 
 pened, made so much of his having been locked up 
 in a stable, that Mr. Lai or began to assure her that he 
 thought it no hardship to stay for hours beside such a 
 horse as his, if only he did it of freewill. Since he had 
 had the pleasure of seeing her he had spent whole 
 nights in his horse's stable at his own desire. When he 
 had reached the station where a horse-box was to meet 
 him, there was none at all. He had missed it, or it had 
 missed him ; the latter was most likely. He could 
 make nothing out of the people ; they were blundering 
 fellows. So he made up his mind to ride to Orleans. 
 He took the old post- road, which was paved, and planted 
 with trees on either side. The country was pretty till 
 you came to the flat corn-growing level which they 
 called the " Beauce." He put up at little village inns, 
 and found them very cheap. It is true it might be 
 said he found them cheap, because he slept in stables, 
 but his choice lay between clean straw there and a bed 
 in what we should call the taproom, where people sat 
 up half the night drinking; or else in the kitchen, 
 where he should have nothing but a kind of screen 
 between him and the rest of the inmates. He must say 
 for the French that the beds were cleaner than you 
 would find them at any roadside inn in old Ireland. 
 They were made up very high, and with great care, and 
 
 F 
 
66 MARIE. 
 
 looked white and tempting. He thought, however, he 
 would rather rest in private than in public ; besides, 
 they might play tricks with his horse. So he stuck to 
 him, and should now ride him to the journey's end, but 
 would first get some one to teach him how to pick a 
 lock. Miss Goodman asked him if he did not think he 
 had better give a little more time to the study of French, 
 and then she drew back, fearing she had given him 
 offence. He calmly replied that he found his six words 
 answer most purposes. When they fell short, he threw 
 in a little Irish. It would make them stare to see what 
 an effect that had. It was his six words that freed him 
 from the stable. Though, after all, it was another proof 
 that we were not so good as those who came before us, for 
 there was a man in the " Arabian Nights " who could 
 open a door with a single word, and it had taken six to 
 release him from bondage. 
 
 " And, by-the-bye, Eichards, my good fellow, what 
 brought you that way ? Is it your old lady has come 
 to join ye, and is her precious donkey put up somewhere 
 in those parts ? Many's the time I laugh to myself when 
 I think of her false taste. I shall be proud to meet her, 
 though, and reason it out with her. Is she here?" 
 
 " Heaven forbid !" said my master. "lain happy to 
 say our nearest approach to her is by letter. My wife 
 heard from her this morning, but laid the news by till 
 she felt better." 
 
MARIE. 67 
 
 " I have looked into it since you went out," said my 
 mistress, smiling, " and you shall hear some of it." 
 
 " Only some of it, pray," said my master, who did but 
 suffer my mistress to read that " since they left Mrs. 
 Smith at Boulogne she had been shown two donkeys 
 with long curling hair, belonging to a family that lived 
 near her present lodging. She begged \ Eichards ' (as 
 she always called my master) to inquire if donkeys were 
 born so in this country, or was it done by art ? In this 
 country, there was so little love of nature, and so much 
 regard paid to mere outside, that she should not wonder 
 if they gave even the hair of their donkeys a twist with 
 the curling tongs. She fancied the people wished to 
 sell this couple to her. She should let them know that 
 she preferred solid worth and modest merit to foreign 
 airs and graces. They asked, besides, what she called 
 a high price." 
 
 " She is thinking of buying them," said my master ; 
 " but she loves cheap goods. I never heard of Josephs 
 with curled hair. What do they ask for them ?" 
 
 " She does not tell me," said my mistress, " but here 
 is a postscript to say that she only gave ten shillings for 
 each leg when she bought Joseph, who was a native of 
 the Forest of Dean." 
 
 " Such," my aunt says, " is the coarse way of making 
 a bargain common in that district. When staying at 
 Cheltenham, I bought him from a charcoal burner to 
 
V8 MARIE. 
 
 save him from ill usage, which has made him old before 
 his time, but not harmed his sweet and gentle temper. 
 
 I will let these French know that I am not one to 
 be carried away by mere outside. Tell Eichards to 
 find out for me, at once, if the curl is the work of 
 hands." 
 
 Mr. Lalor began to see that his powers of reasoning 
 would be quite thrown away on such an old lady as this. 
 " It is a case where the heart is concerned," said he, 
 
 II to comfort my mistress. That is what you must tell 
 yourself. It was a pity her feelings had not a better 
 bent given them when she was young. A jackass!" 
 Thereupon he laughed till he cried. 
 
 My master, on asking, could not get any more exact 
 account of the asses with long curling hair than that 
 they most likely came from Spain. Mrs. Smith did buy 
 them after much beating down of the price that was 
 asked at first. They were put into Joseph's field, but 
 they led him such a life that they were soon obliged to 
 be taken away, and Mrs. Smith sold them in great 
 disgust. She wrote many letters about those " wolves 
 in sheep's clothing, who would not suffer Joseph to 
 crop a blade of grass," and said they were like " the 
 wretches who seized her tea." 
 
 Mrs. Smith and Joseph were both growing infirm. 
 He died, and she bribed her landlady to let him be buried 
 in a sort of back garden. She said she did not like to 
 
MARIE. W 
 
 leave him in a foreign country ; but, besides that, she 
 had taken to card-playing (of which there is a great 
 deal at Boulogne), and amused her old age by winning 
 little stakes of a few pence. After the death of the 
 donkey she did not try to fill his place, but kept so many 
 cats and canary birds that she had to take the whole 
 house, and pay well for it, as no lodgers would stay if 
 she stayed. 
 
 Miss Goodman seemed sorry to hear that Mr. Lalor 
 meant to leave Orleans early next morning. She had 
 enjoyed, in her own way, the bustle of those days when 
 they went together to seek her missing nephew ; though 
 if any one had told her that she liked it, she would have 
 cried and thought the saying hard. 
 
 She could not help hinting to Mr. Lalor that it would 
 be a great comfort could he have gone on with us all to 
 Tours, and stood by her till her nephew was safely en- 
 tered at the Lyceum. He shook his head, " and begged 
 her not to let her lively fancy picture Toms worse than 
 they were. The name told one their limits. They 
 seldom got beyond scrapes, and mostly turned out very 
 nice fellows. Here was his excellent friend Eichards 
 ready to help her at every turn." 
 
 Before leaving, he begged my master to take great 
 care of Miss Goodman. " She is," said he, " a charming 
 woman, but it is in her heart her strength lies, you see, 
 Eichards, not exactly in her head ! She is not going on 
 
70 MABIE. 
 
 with you to Nantes? Oh! well, then I'll take you at 
 your kind offer, and come and see you on my way back 
 in spring, and bring my horse." 
 
 We watched Mr. Lalor ride away towards Bourges, 
 early in the morning of the same day on which we 
 started for Tours by diligence. I had never before seen 
 a diligence, and I thought it a poor lumbering thing 
 after the smart, brisk stage-coaches in which we had 
 been used to travel across country in England. Now, 
 they make the diligences smaller and more compact, but 
 in those days it was much as if they had set to work 
 to make a diligence by cutting down a battered old 
 coach and two shabby postchaises (all of them yellow), 
 and stuck them together (the coach in the middle), 
 without mending the leather or the springs. There 
 were no back seats, for a great leathern hood was 
 drawn from back to front, making it look at top like a 
 carrier's van ; this covered the huge and heavy French 
 boxes which often threaten to overweight the diligence ; 
 and the guard sat in the first place as you mounted to 
 what they call the " banquette," behind the driver. 
 
 Our guard had a very handsome white dog of the 
 kind called the Loulou. Of all the dogs I ever saw, 
 these are the most like foxes. They are often of their 
 colour; they have their countenance and their short 
 bark, and I will answer for their cunning. Their tails 
 differ from those of foxes ; they are large and bushy, and 
 
MARIE. 7i 
 
 curl over their backs, like those of squirrels. Our 
 guard's dog was of a creamy white, without a speck 
 of colour from ear to tail. It was so handsome that 
 one could not help liking to look at it ; but those of 
 the true fox colour strike one as more knowing. I may 
 remark that, since then, I have never known the guard 
 of a diligence to be without a white Loulou dog. It 
 seems to go with the place. 
 
 Master Tom was so much taken with the looks 
 of this dog, that he wished to ride outside. He gave 
 so many reasons for sitting on the top rather than 
 with us, that his aunt took fright, and thought he 
 had some new plan for making his escape ; and my 
 master declared, " that, as the whole of the places 
 in the middle had been taken in order that our party 
 of five might sit at ease in what they called room 
 for six, he must stay with us." For my part, I do 
 believe that Master Tom did only want to play with 
 the dog, and be a little more free, but he was ashamed 
 to give his right reasons, and he had brought it 
 all on himself. So, when he settled into a corner, 
 and shut his eyes and looked sulky, I could not pity 
 him. 
 
 The diligence seemed to take a long time to pack 
 with people and boxes, but, at last, with a great 
 cracking of the whip and jingling of the little bells 
 hung on the harness, the four horses started. They 
 
72 MAX IE. 
 
 were noble horses, and seemed strong enough to take us 
 anywhere. I never saw horses like them, for size and 
 strength, in England, except those which draw the 
 brewers' drays in London, and they are still more 
 powerful; but then those English horses do their work 
 in a heavy, serious manner, while our four greys rushed 
 along the road as if they took pride and pleasure in 
 showing us how well they would do their stage. 
 
 In France they all seem to think that noise helps 
 work. Our horses made much clatter and noise, espe- 
 cially on coming near any village. Indeed, I do think 
 that every living creature makes more noise in thi£ 
 country. I am sure the French cocks crow louder than 
 the English ; and if you could but hear the frogs ! I 
 believe I talk louder and faster than I used to do in 
 England, but that may partly come of keeping a lodging- 
 house ; for, though I have had good gentlemen in my 
 time, no one can tell what a worry there is with lodgers. 
 Sometimes it is hard work to please one set of them, let 
 alone two. Those on one floor have no end of grievances 
 against those on another. The poor landlady has to 
 hear both sides, make things smooth to both, and suffer 
 no one to leave in disgust. 
 
 This diligence was taking me into all these troubles 
 without my foreseeing anything at my journey's end 
 but the town of Nantes. As we had a place to spare, 
 we did not find our journey worse than any other by 
 
MARIE. 73 
 
 coach. The road went by the side of the same great 
 river Loire, through a pretty country, all cornfields and 
 meadows on the low bank of the river, and vineyards on 
 the high and rocky bank. The river had always a high 
 bank and a low one, but sometimes they changed sides. 
 From time to time we stopped to get fresh horses at 
 some little, clean, old-fashioned town, with an old castle 
 on the highest point of rock. If the rock was on our 
 side, the castle was on our side ; if the rock was on the 
 other, there was the castle and the old town scrambling 
 down the hill below it, and linked by a bridge to a little 
 new town on the low bank. We all thought it a plea- 
 sant country, even so late in the year, and were sorry 
 when we could no longer look at it. 
 
 As it grew dark, Miss Goodman, as was often her 
 way, began to fidget. On hearing the dog on the roof 
 bark snappishly, two or three times running, she asked 
 Mr. Eichards "if it were true that wolves were still 
 to be found in this country, and that they sometimes 
 attacked travellers ? She had been told so, but could 
 hardly believe it, for she had read in history that one of 
 our kings had put an end to wolves by setting a price on 
 their heads." 
 
 "Yes, but that was in England," said my master. 
 " France might do the same if she had the sea on all 
 sides; but when it is a hard winter, and they can find 
 no food, how are you to stop the wolves from coming 
 
74 MARIE. 
 
 down from the Spanish mountains on one side, or the 
 Swiss on the other ?" 
 
 " How indeed !" said Miss Goodman, in a tone of 
 terror. 
 
 "Ko fear of wolves now," Mr. Bichards went on. 
 " They do not come so far north on this side." 
 
 84 There are woods full of them near Poitiers," said 
 Master Tom, of a sudden. 
 
 "If it be so," said Mr. Eichards, shortly, 84 there are 
 many miles "^etween us and Poitiers, even when we reach 
 Tours." 
 
 As Miss Goodman still teased him with questions about 
 the truth of some shocking stories some one had told her 
 about wolves, my master prepared to go to sleep, but, 
 before quite settling down, he drew up the window-sash, 
 and found it was all frame and no glass. It had been 
 broken by some strong blow, for nothing but splinters 
 were left sticking in the woodwork. Just then the dog 
 on the roof snapped again and again. Miss Goodman 
 almost screamed. 
 
 48 W hat is to be done ? How easy it would be for a 
 wolf to spring through this broken window !" 
 
 44 1 dare say," replied my master. 
 
 84 My dear Mr. Eichards, do not be put out. I only 
 want to guard against danger. Do you think if I 
 stuffed my shawl in it would be of any use ?" 
 
 " I dare say it would stop my getting the toothache." 
 
MARIE. 75 
 
 Miss Goodman's fears did seem foolish, and trie more 
 so because we all knew that they were roused by her 
 nephew for the sake of mischief; but I often thought of 
 her during a following winter, when the snow lay long 
 on the ground, and the wolves came from forests not 
 very far from us, so pressed by hunger that they 
 prowled by night round a station of a newly-opened 
 railway. One of my husband's friends told us that he 
 and others, on night work, got into empty carriages, and 
 kept in them all night, with shut doors and windows, 
 for very fear of their lives. 
 
 By-and-by we found that the barking of the dog was 
 at a passenger, beyond the number allowed by law, who 
 lay at length among the boxes. Every time he stirred 
 Loulou, who held the roof to be his own, snapped at 
 him. 
 
 When we changed the handsome greys with w T hich we 
 left Orleans we had strong horses still, but not so good- 
 looking, but at the last stage before Tours they gave 
 us four fine and well-matched horses, that we might 
 enter that city with the same stir and show with which 
 we had left Orleans. 
 
 For some time before we reached Tours we found the 
 country very flat, and the river growing wider and wider. 
 We drove down the higher bank and across a bridge 
 about a quarter of a mile long, which, my master said, 
 was among the longest in Europe, and along a wide 
 
76 MARIE. 
 
 street, stretching from the bridge, straight through the 
 town. The diligence stopped at an inn nearly half way 
 through this street, and all the passengers got out. 
 Miss G-oodman's cousin was waiting to meet her, and 
 had a porter ready to remove her luggage to his house, 
 and another to take ours to a hotel in the newer part 
 of the town, where rooms had been engaged for my 
 master. 
 
 Just outside of Tours we had gone through our last 
 bit of trouble with Miss Goodman's hams and cheese. It 
 was a comfort to think that was the last octroi station at 
 which we should be so cumbered, and such a pleasure to 
 see the hamper parted from our luggage, that my mis- 
 tress smiled at me and I at her. 
 
 We were all wishing each other " Good-night !" when 
 the guard, who had caught sight of Miss Goodman's 
 shawl stopping the gap in the window, bade us halt, 
 and in a stern manner told us that, before being per- 
 mitted to leave the office of the diligence, we must pay 
 for the glass of that window we had broken. 
 
 Mr. Kichards assured him that it was broken when 
 we got in. 
 
 *• That," said the guard, " could not be. Did we not 
 know that he had the charge, the sole charge, of the 
 passengers, of the luggage, of the whole machine, and 
 that under his care, the care of Charles Briand, nothing 
 had ever been known to be damaged or broken without 
 
MARIE. 77 
 
 his finding out by whom it was done, and causing that 
 person to make amends in money ?" 
 
 Mr. James (Miss Goodman's cousin) had lived long 
 enough among the French to know their ways, so he 
 spoke with much respect to the guard, who kept telling 
 us that he was an old soldier, who had served under the 
 Great Emperor. When he found all of us maintain that 
 we had nothing to do with breaking the window, he put 
 it to us that, u as there was a boy among us, was it not 
 likely, nay, more than likely, that that boy had done it ?" 
 " Very likely," said my master; "but, in this case, no 
 one touched the sash but myself, and I did not break it, 
 and will not pay." 
 
 " Monsieur will leave me to pay, who am poor," said the 
 guard ; " ten francs will barely cover the cost of new glass." 
 * I will not pay for what I did not break." 
 " Then, sir, you will be traduced before a judge of 
 the peace." 
 
 " No doubt I shall," said my master, " but that does 
 not prove that I or any of my party broke the pane." 
 
 A gendarme, who had been listening to the debate, 
 came forward and civilly asked us all to go into the 
 office of the diligence, and favour him with our names, 
 and the names of the houses at which we were to stay. 
 All this he took down in writing, and then we were 
 suffered to go our ways, and, I may add, that we never 
 heard another word about that broken pane. 
 
78 MARIE, 
 
 I said before that the outside of French houses is all 
 windows. I might have added that, very often, the inside 
 is all doors. Many houses and hotels are wood-work 
 from floor to ceiling, with doors yon know not where, 
 hid by mouldings, or seeming to be panels in the 
 wainscot. In hotels, it is very common to have three 
 doors to each room, for the sake of being able to throw 
 the rooms into a set, besides the doors of cupboards, and 
 that of a dark closet in which lurks in the dark all they 
 give you for washing. In old houses, with thick walls, 
 this is not of so much moment, but in new you must 
 be a sound sleeper if you can rest. 
 
 We were all a little heated by the fuss about the 
 broken pane, and we found the walls of our hotel made 
 as if to let in noise. My mistress could not sleep 
 because of a party playing at cards on one side, and 
 some one with a bad cough on the other. I only had 
 the noise on one side, and did not mind it so much as a 
 lady would, but still I should have been crosser than I 
 was if I had not been curious. A child in the next 
 room, speaking English, was naughty and would not 
 settle to sleep, though coaxed and crooned over by her 
 nurse in what I knew to be Irish by the sound of it, 
 though I was too English to know what it meant. The 
 cross little girl seemed to wake a younger child, who 
 was at first fretful and sleepy, then started up, wide 
 awake, and wanting to play. The nurse, by turns, 
 
MARIE. 79 
 
 begged and prayed the girl to let her little brother 
 sleep, and threatened to give her over to a French 
 nurse, who would put her in a dark prison. It ended 
 by the nurse taking the child in her arms, and walking 
 up and down the room till she dropped to sleep, singing 
 all the while scraps of the church hymns, and of songs 
 about Irishmen who had been hanged for murder. 
 
 Next morning, when the nurse passed my door, with 
 a great copper jug in her hand to fetch warm water to 
 wash the children, I let her know I was Irish too, and 
 asked how she found herself in this strange country. 
 She put me in a fright, for she was first struck dumb, 
 then took to laughing and crying. The housemaid of 
 the hotel, who went by at the moment, helped me to 
 make her sit down, and then said, in English that I 
 could make out, that she must be bled or she would die. 
 
 " Is there anything of me to bleed ?" cried the poor 
 thing, jumping up. M I don't like your French ways at 
 all. You bleed your Christians, and you don't bleed 
 your veal !" (or, as she said, " vale.") 
 
 The housemaid looked at me, and touched her head, 
 then said, " I must tell Madame, and the doctor who visits 
 the lame English lady shall be told to draw her blood." 
 
 " It's myself will draw his first !" cried the Irish 
 nurse, " and here's the good jintleman that will stand 
 my friend !" 
 
 She sprang up, and worked her way with a quick- 
 
80 MARIE. 
 
 ness that amazed me (for now I saw, for tlie first time, 
 that her back was so much out of shape that you would 
 have thought it strange she could move at all) towards 
 a gentleman who looked like a priest of the English 
 Church, and called on him not to let her be bled. She 
 was " upset by joy at meeting some one from Ireland, 
 that was all." 
 
 11 But Bridget, my good woman," said the clergyman, 
 " the French people may think you might show your 
 joy in a more quiet manner." 
 
 " Begging your honour's pardon, I show my joy much 
 as they do themselves, only it's more for spite they cry 
 than for joy at all. I scorn her and her ways," point- 
 ing to the housemaid's back as she went quickly to 
 answer a bell. " She goes about telling folks before my 
 face that I have a crack in my head. I've asked her to 
 prove her words in the presence of the rest of them. 
 They may look all over my head, back-hair and all, and 
 see if they can find a crack. The shakes in the head I 
 have, I'll own, ever since my husband turned his back 
 on me and his fatherless children ; but it was to better 
 us all he did so, and not to leave me because of my 
 trouble in my back, as that woman with the hard heart 
 goes about saying. I told her she had better not be too 
 bold. Who can say what may happen to her ? We are 
 all born, but we are not buried ; but your honour knows 
 well the cause of her spite." 
 
MARIE. 81 
 
 " Yes, you have often told me," said the clergyman, 
 very mildly, but beginning to go downstairs. 
 
 " And so I have, and the comfort you have been to 
 me, may the Lord make up !" 
 
 As he was quite gone, she turned to me and said, 
 " It was all about scrubbing a floor. When first we 
 came here, I could not settle to the floor. It was of 
 red tiles, which had never been washed since they were 
 laid down. When the children broke loose while I was 
 washing them they came back with red feet, and their 
 clothes were so stained that the women down at the 
 river-side, who hit them with great wooden battledores 
 against the flat stones, wore them out before they were 
 clean. So, one day, says I, ' with the blessing of God, 
 I'll buy a pound of soap and scrub this floor.' I did not 
 need to buy it, for my mistress was living then, and I 
 took it, and just as I had done my room, in comes this 
 Bette, as they call her, and she has never got the better 
 of it. It terrified her so to see I had scrubbed that floor !" 
 
 " She is head housemaid ?" said I. 
 
 " Head housemaid, bless you ! Head and chief she is, 
 no doubt. The under housemaid wears whiskers on his 
 lips, and is her husband, and brightens the wood-floors 
 by bees- waxing them and then skating up and clown with 
 brushes made fast to the soles of his shoes ! She would 
 not touch a floor. She helps her husband to make the 
 beds, and drives the dust about with a feather brush, 
 
 G 
 
82 MARIE. 
 
 and then her work is done, and she stands on the 
 landings with her hands in her apron-pockets, and 
 chatters to anyone coming her way, and makes a mock 
 of me!" 
 
 The housemaid, who just then came to tell me that I 
 was wanted by my mistress, caught enough of this to 
 make her shrug her shoulders, and give me a knowing 
 look. I told the nurse that I must go now, but should 
 try to see her again. I found from what the housemaid 
 said as she went with me to the door of my mistress, 
 that the Irish nurse had been in the hotel for months, 
 and that it was an old quarrel between them. 
 
 My mistress drank her coffee in bed, then I dressed 
 her, and she sent for the landlady to ask if she could 
 not let her have a quiet room. Madame was pretty and 
 pleasant, but quick of word. 
 
 "All our rooms are quiet," said she, with an air; 
 but, seeing by the look of my mistress that she stood in 
 need of rest, she added, that she had given her the 
 rooms we were in because the} 7 were the gayest she had, 
 and much sought after on that account. 
 
 " Look round, Madame," said she. " Madame has five 
 windows in her chamber, three looking upon the Boule- 
 vard, two upon the Eoyal Street. Madame cannot 
 weary herself here in this corner room, but if Madame 
 be ill, it is another thing. There are other rooms quite 
 apart from the street, but I fear that Madame may find 
 
MARIE. 83 
 
 them triste. (Now French people think they have said 
 their worst when they tell you a thing is triste, or will 
 make you triste. The word means to be very dull, and 
 rather gloomy besides.) My mistress who had found 
 her little bit of sleep towards dawn broken at its hap- 
 piest moment by the roll of waggons bringing fuel and 
 food from the country into Tours, and all turning round 
 her corner room into the great street, caught at the 
 notion of being a little dull, and begged to see the 
 rooms. We followed the landlady across the courtyard 
 of the hotel to a pavilion, by which the French mean a 
 building looking as if it made part of the larger build- 
 ing by which it stands, but not joined to it by a stair- 
 case. The ground-floor was, as is often the case, used 
 for putting carriages under cover, and for all sorts of 
 odd jobs, such as cleaning boots and shoes. It was 
 rather dull, I ' must say, after the other rooms, where 
 something was passing at every minute ; but my mis- 
 tress closed with these rooms, because they were all to 
 ourselves, and nicely furnished. 
 
 " I shall not call them dull at all," said she, looking 
 from the window of her sitting-room across the court. 
 " Look, Mary, there is a pretty group !" 
 
 The pretty sight was a great magnolia tree in a 
 corner, reaching so high that we were told they picked 
 the flowers out of the staircase windows on the second 
 floor, when it was in blossom. It was only in leaf now, 
 
84 MARIE. 
 
 but, with the other evergreens in green tubs, made the 
 place look as if the fine weather were not all gone. 
 Under the magnolia tree was a bench on which sat a 
 French nurse sewing with all her might, while a little 
 boy and girl, our landlady's children, as she told us, 
 were playing about her, sometimes feeding a parrot, 
 perched on a high stand, from which he would suffer 
 himself to be taken and marched about the court, some- 
 times on the head of the little girl, sometimes on the 
 boy's finger. The sun was shining, and my mistress 
 said it looked " southern," and settled to take the rooms. 
 I was running backwards and forwards, unpacking 
 boxes, and putting things first in one room, then in an- 
 other, when my master came back from the table d'hote * 
 breakfast, bringing with him the good clergyman whom 
 he had met below, and his little daughter, about seven 
 years old. 
 
 As he was sitting down, after having spoken to my 
 mistress, he caught sight of the children playing in the 
 court, and bade his little girl go and play with them, 
 and be sure she spoke French, and tried to speak as the 
 others did. 
 
 " Pardon me, Madame, 9 ' said he, turning to my mis- 
 
 * Most French inns have a public table at fixed hours, at which 
 any one may breakfast or dine who will. Travellers may there meet 
 some of the townsfolk, and find a cheaper approach to a good dinner 
 than in any other way. 
 
MAMIE. 85 
 
 tress, " I try never to lose a chance of putting her in 
 the way of gaining a good French accent." 
 
 Just then the Irish nurse worked her way to the 
 bench, shuffling from side to side in a way that made 
 you sad to see it. 
 
 " Poor thing ! poor thing !" said the clergyman. " I 
 wish she had not come. She is enough to spoil all." 
 
 She was followed by two children, the same I had 
 heard during the night. At the same moment we saw 
 Master Tom cross the court, on his way to our rooms. 
 He was sent by his aunt to ask how we were, and 
 whether or not we had had any more trouble about that 
 broken pane. 
 
 On my mistress asking, in her turn, after Miss Good- 
 man, her nephew answered as to her mind, not her body. 
 
 " I think she feels it now," said he, shaking his head. 
 " She begins .to feel to what kind of place she has 
 brought a fellow used to Paris, you know. She said of 
 her own self that the place looked quiet, and that she 
 was surprised to see that fine street lighted with oil. 
 You saw those queer old lamps that they draw up and 
 down by cords ? Quite out of date, you know. I should 
 say the place was three hundred years behindhand." 
 
 " But, my young friend," said the clergyman, " that 
 is the very reason why I am here for one, and your 
 worthy aunt, most likely, for another. You, perhaps, 
 are not aware that Frenchmen of learning say that their 
 
SG MARIE. 
 
 language is best spoken in a district lying between the 
 cities of Tours and Blois (a distance of thirty-five miles). 
 English boys used to go to Blois to learn to speak French 
 well. Now, more come to Tours than to Blois. The 
 French of Paris is like the English of London — mixed, 
 my dear boy, mixed." 
 
 It was droll to see Master Tom's look of amazement 
 on hearing that anything was not of the best in Paris. 
 Mr. Lawson, the clergyman, thought him a well-man- 
 nered lad on seeing him dumb with surprise, and took 
 his not knowing what to say for respectful attention. 
 Master Tom told me afterwards that Mr. Lawson 
 preached a long sermon on how Tours had been for 
 many, many years a favourite seat of the French kings, 
 who loved the fruitful country, and perched castles on the 
 rocks, and built fine houses for their pleasure in the open 
 plain, whence they might go hunting in time of peace. 
 
 " I do not mean to say that they have left many tales 
 of their good deeds," said he, shaking his head. " Almost 
 all these buildings put one in mind of some bad king, 
 or some great crime, but one trace the Court has left in 
 Touraine (as they call the country round Tours), which 
 is, that a prettier and clearer way of pronouncing French 
 has come down to these days, so that more than one 
 good French writer says that a working man of Tours 
 or Blois speaks with a purer tone than a well-taught 
 man of Paris. You may have heard fc the same thing 
 
MARIE. 87 
 
 said of the Italian language as spoken at Sienna, and 
 the German at Brunswick and Hanover. I knew 
 nothing of this when I was stopped on my way to Pau 
 by the trouble which befell my poor wife. Poor thing ! 
 she missed her footing on those slippery bees-waxed 
 stairs of the hotel, and hurt her leg, so that she has 
 been laid up here for weeks, and may be for many more ; 
 but now mark how good is sure to come out of what we 
 call our troubles. If she had not had that fall, we 
 should not have known what kind people there are in 
 Tours. Such good people, speaking such pure French ! 
 Our landlady and her mother have nursed my wife as if 
 she were of their own blood, and we have had such a 
 kind and careful French doctor. I am sorry to say that 
 the English doctor has taken offence at me for not send- 
 ing for him ; but when he cools he will own that I have 
 a right to try to improve my own accent and that of my 
 family. At present he is so much out of humour that 
 he has himself called out of church when I am to preach 
 for my friend the chaplain, and I am sorry to say he 
 tells people there is something wrong in my views 
 because I go to hear a monk who is preaching a course 
 of sermons. Chiefly for the accent, of course. My 
 French doctor tells me of anything going on in the way 
 of public speaking. There is a carious trial going on 
 to-day, if you would like to hear any of their law-men." 
 It almost made me smile to hear a gentleman who had 
 
88 MARIE. 
 
 not a hair that was not white, talk about learning to 
 pronounce his French, as if he were a little boy, and I 
 could not help wondering if his poor, lame wife thought 
 getting into the hands of a doctor with a pure accent 
 made up to her for having to lie on a sofa for so many- 
 weeks. However, he looked so good, and spoke so 
 simply, it seemed a shame to smile. 
 
 When I had dressed my mistress for taking a walk 
 with Mr. Lawson and her husband, we all went down- 
 stairs and crossed the Court ; I to join the Irish nurse, 
 and the others to pick up Mr. Lawson's little girl. 
 
 As we drew near them, we heard the parrot scream- 
 ing, "Mind your accent, Bessy Lawson! Mind your 
 accent!" and the Irishwoman screaming against it, "Oh 
 the bad baste of a bird, and the bad, bad child to tache 
 him to mock a kind jintleman !" " Mind your accent ! 
 mind your accent, Bessy Lawson !" 
 
 " I hope Bessy Lawson will mind her accent, and you 
 too, Nora," said the clergyman, shaking his gloves at 
 the little girl who had given so much trouble in the 
 night, and who was now capering about in great glee, 
 while the parrot went on screaming. 
 
 " Never mind, Bridget We shall make a good girl 
 of Nora some day. Do cease wringing your hands, 
 there's a good woman." 
 
 " I must wring something, your honour. It's that 
 bird's neck I'd be wringing if 1 did not know what a 
 
MARIE. 89 
 
 French noise would be made over it, so I just wring my 
 hands to keep down the thoughts." 
 
 Nora, with no manner of concern, skipped up to us, 
 with the parrot perched on her head, and asked Mr. 
 Lawson to go upstairs, reach out of the window, and 
 gather for her a blossom of the magnolia, which that 
 shrub, as is often the way with it, had thrown out long 
 after all the rest of its bloom was over. He was taken 
 up with the little French girl, who was crying because 
 she had the toothache. 
 
 Just as he began to attend to Nora, Madame Charles, 
 the landlady, showed herself at the window above the 
 magnolia, drew the branch with the blossom towards 
 her by means of a hooked stick, and cut off the flower. 
 
 Mr. Lawson said, " I am glad it's gone. You've 
 craved for it so often, Nora, that you set me dreaming 
 last night about seeing you fall from that window, and 
 break your neck in trying to reach it. I woke in a 
 fright lest Harry, who was leaning out to look after you, 
 should fall too." 
 
 "Harry no fall," said Nora's little brother. "Harry 
 rock in the tree-top. That so jolly !" 
 
 "What do you know about jolly?" said my mistress, 
 patting the little boy, to whom she seemed to have taken 
 a fancy. 
 
 " Harry do know," said he, in a sturdy way. 
 
 " You can't tell what it means." 
 
90 MARIE. 
 
 "Jolly means when children come out of school." 
 He said this with such spirit that all laughed. 
 
 " That tells against my wife and myself," said Mr. 
 Lawson. " She gives him a little ABC, and I take Nora 
 with Bessy. They have lost their poor mother, who died 
 here in spring, while their father was in Spain, and we 
 were afraid they might forget all they had been taught." 
 
 The Irish nurse began crying as he spoke, then caught 
 at Nora to scold her for sitting on the sand in the good, 
 new, black frock that she wore for her blessed mother. 
 She shook the child sharply, and I thought was going 
 to slap her, but it ended in a hugging. She then cried 
 shame upon herself for letting a tear fall on a child, let 
 alone the child she had suckled herself, besides wetting 
 her nice new frock, and put up her hand to dry her 
 eyes, "lest worse luck should come, if worse could 
 happen." This gave Nora a chance of wriggling like 
 an eel from her other hand and off her lap. The nurse 
 pursued her with scolding : indeed, her hard words and 
 soft came so close together that it put me in mind of 
 my own poor mother, who was Irish too. Nora was 
 too busy to listen to her. She was attacking little 
 Aimee Charles, who had seized the parrot while she was 
 . on her nurse's knee. Aimee, in both French and Eng- 
 lish, for the children seemed to give and take the two 
 languages, stood up for her right to " the parrot of 
 mamma," and ran roaring to meet her mother, who was 
 
MARIE. 91 
 
 coming towards us, with the flower we had seen her 
 gather. With the tears of toothache mixing with tears 
 of rage, Aimee clamoured for the flower. I think she 
 asked for it chiefly because she had just heard Nora wish 
 to have it. 
 
 Madame Charles shook her head, and gave it with a 
 civil speech to my mistress. 
 
 " Then, mamma, you should give me sweetmeats if 
 you take my flower for the English lady, and I have the 
 toothache, oh ! so badly." 
 
 The mother shrugged her shoulders in the French 
 way, and drew from her pocket a box full of pretty 
 sugar-plums ; she let Aimee help herself to them, much 
 to the distress of my mistress, who could not help saying 
 the child would make her toothache worse. 
 
 " What would you have ?" said the landlady ; " she is 
 a child ; she cries for what will do her harm. Children 
 are made like that !" 
 
 That was the first time I took much notice of those 
 three French words, " Que voulez vous ?" which I have 
 tried to explain by " What would you have ?" I am now 
 quite used to them. Helped by a slight raising of the 
 shoulders and eyebrows, they are at hand for any one 
 who must give an answer, and has not a good one ready. 
 From a broken pitcher to a broken promise, those words 
 will serve all cases. It was true the pot was cracked, 
 it was true the word failed, but "What would you 
 
92 MARIE. 
 
 have ?" If you do not hold your peace you are made to 
 feel yourself a person without reason who looks for 
 something out of the nature of things. 
 
 My mistress said no more, but thought French mothers 
 must spoil their children sadly, and that it was a good 
 thing they seldom had more than two to spoil. She 
 turned to go with Mr. Lawson, and asked the little boy 
 to kiss her. 
 
 " Harry would rather not," said he, not rudely, but 
 in a frank way, which pleased Mrs. Eichards better than 
 Nora's putting up an unwilling cheek for a kiss that 
 she did not return. 
 
 Now, I had seen in the entrance of the hotel a card 
 in a frame, on which I read that this we were in was 
 the best hotel between Paris and Madrid. I knew so 
 much as that Madrid was the chief city of Spain, and 
 it struck me that if I was anywhere on the way to it, I 
 must have gone very deep indeed into foreign parts. 
 So I asked Bridget, when our party was gone, to tell 
 me if I were at all near the road to Spain, as I wished 
 to have a look at it. 
 
 " I'll show ye the road, bad luck to it !" said she, 
 rising ; " it was the way the father of them " (pointing to 
 the children) " went, and little he knew he was leaving 
 the misthress to die here." 
 
 Nora, who had made friends with Aimee over the 
 sweetmeats, said she would not go with us, and Bridget 
 
MARIE. 93 
 
 gave up the point, and, taking the boy by the hand, 
 worked her way quickly, but with a great effort, across 
 the courtyard. I told her I was sorry to take her to 
 tire her, but she replied, " Sure, I'd walk with ye to the 
 latther end of the world." 
 
 We were soon beside the fountain in front of the 
 barrier of the octroi as you leave Tours by the road to 
 Spain. The ground rose beyond the barrier, but not so 
 high as on the other side of the river. Indeed, I found 
 afterwards that the road to Paris looked more like one's 
 notion of the road to Spain ; that is to say, so dusty 
 on a windy day that you felt sure it must be burnt 
 up in summer, besides being on the side of the river 
 where the banks were suited to vines. We walked a 
 little way along the Boulevard, and sat down on a bench 
 under the elm trees. 
 
 Now, when I spoke of the Paris boulevards, I did not 
 put in that I heard Mr. Kichards say that they got their 
 name from having for the most part been laid out on 
 ground gained by levelling the walls and earthworks, 
 or bulwarks, which, in old times, used to defend nearly 
 all towns. Such walls are still to be found complete, 
 and with towers and gates, at several little towns near 
 us in Brittany, but the large cities have pulled them 
 down, finding them too tight a girdle, hindering their 
 breathing, checking their growth. In their stead you 
 often see what is the widest street of the whole town. 
 
94 MARIE. 
 
 At Tours, though there are houses now on one side, 
 then on the other, and, for short spaces, on both, there 
 has not been enough building yet to make the Boulevard 
 a street. Old people call it the Mail or Mall, and speak 
 of the wonder it was held to be when first made, and 
 the care taken to keep it up. It was watched, and any- 
 one walking on it till the ground was thoroughly dry 
 after rain was fined ten francs, or about seven and six- 
 pence in English money. The leaves, which fall sooner 
 than in England, were all gone from the four rows of 
 elm trees, but it was very dusty. I said so to Bridget, 
 who had begun to cry again. 
 
 " It's chiefly so here," said she, l - in this ill town ; you 
 should see what it is down by the bridge on a windy 
 day ! but, if it's one tear I've shed sitting on this seat, 
 I've cried enough to lay all the dust of the place, as 
 sure as my name's Biddy Noonan, which may be it is 
 not, for that hard-hearted villain has left me in doubt of 
 my name and of my nature." 
 
 I had lived so long among the English that I had 
 partly forgotten the Irish ways, and I could not help 
 showing my surprise that she should call her husband a 
 villain to me, when I had just heard her defend him 
 against the French housemaid. 
 
 " Bless you," said she, " I said that for my own credit, 
 and the credit of the childer ! You'll do the same thing 
 when you marry, and your husband leaves you, as mine 
 
MARIE, 95 
 
 did, with four boys and a girl, to go to Californy by way 
 of Havre, with a lot of Frenchmen who went to dig the 
 gold. The newspapers set them all wild. I put up 
 prayers for nine days to soften the heart of him, and 
 then I took and burnt six new shirts he had bought for 
 the voyage before his very eyes. He bate me well, and 
 he left just the same, but you see I had the comfort of 
 knowing I had done all I could." 
 
 Her pretty, pinched face flushed and looked so fierce 
 as she said this, that I could tell what she was like when 
 burning her husband's shirts, and wonder she had come 
 off with her life, cripple though she was. 
 
 The little boy who had been brought away from the 
 fun in the courtyard was weary of us by this time, and 
 kept saying, " Harry has nothing to do !" " Oh whisht, 
 my honey !" said Bridget, searching her pockets for some 
 toy, and bringing out sundry bits of string, and a tin 
 railway-engine, very gaily painted. The string was 
 tied to the engine, and the child was amused for a whole 
 minute ; then he handed it back, bidding her keep it 
 for him " in you's pocket." 
 
 "My little Biddy," said he, coaxing, "do buy Harry 
 a truck to tie to hiin's engine." 
 
 " Where did he pick up the names of those nasty 
 railroad things ?" I might well ask, for railways were 
 not so common then as now. 
 
 " It's the masther taught him those bad words," said 
 
96 MARIE. 
 
 Bridget. " You see, his father is what they call an 
 engineer. He does not make thern himself, but he's a 
 great scholar and lays down the plans. It's a good 
 trade for pay, but a bad one for the wife that was left 
 at home when he went the long journeys." 
 
 Bridget told me that when they were steady to one 
 place, her master and mistress lived at Nantes, where 
 there were several English and Irish families, some 
 chance comers for a time, others who had settled there 
 that they might live more cheaply. Now, I was sure 
 I had heard Mr. and Mrs. Eichards name the Dennises 
 when they spoke of the friends they looked forward to 
 finding at Nantes, but Bridget could tell me nothing to 
 prove hers to be the same people, though I made up my 
 mind they must be. 
 
 Her own father and mother were, she told me, ser- 
 vants of an Irish family, who had come to live at Nantes, 
 to be near a sister married to a Breton country gentle- 
 man, as many Irish ladies are. Her brothers all worked 
 in the lead mines of Brittany, except those who had gone 
 to sea. She had done worse than work in a mine. She 
 had let herself be talked over to marry a gentleman's 
 servant who wore a watch chain and " a black heart he 
 had under it." 
 
 " If ever I've the chance to come near him again !" 
 said she, in her sudden way. 
 
 Losing one of her children at a month old, she had 
 
MARIE, 97 
 
 been hired as wet-nurse to Miss Nora, who was then so 
 sickly, that she thought at first she should never like to 
 suckle such a skinny little thing; but the love came, 
 " till, if you'll believe me," said she, " I'm fonder of 
 her now than of all my own put together. For one 
 thing, they have never given me the trouble she has 
 done ; first with her illnesses, and now with the mis- 
 chief in her." 
 
 When it began to be time to wean her, she could have 
 killed any one who advised her mistress to do so. She 
 managed to delay the change by working on the fears of 
 Mrs. Dennis, that the child might suffer. When there 
 was no putting off any longer, her mistress said she 
 gave much more trouble than the child did. 
 
 " Indeed, my dear," she owned, " I did have thoughts 
 of stealing her, and going off on the tramp with her in 
 my arms (for it was before I lost one of the links of 
 my back by breaking of it), and I could have earned 
 my living by going from church-steps to church-steps, 
 and saying my prayers for those who gave me a 
 copper. 
 
 " You see, I was a little off my head, for taking that 
 child away from me was like cutting out my heart, and 
 I never felt right till I had another baby of my own, and 
 not then either — for I thought my poor little girl an ugly 
 baby after Miss Nora. 
 
 " I was with the mistress after Master Harry was 
 
 H 
 
98 MARIE. 
 
 born, for the French nurse fell ill, and they sent for me. 
 I like Harry well enough now, but I grudged him the 
 love he brought with him, for long and long." 
 
 The mistress said, " Biddy, I'm half afraid to trust 
 you with that baby-boy of mine, for I am sure you're 
 jealous of him for Nora's sake." 
 
 " Indeed, ma'am," said I, " you need never fear I'd 
 hurt him, for he's a dear little fellow, and I could kiss 
 him, clean or dirty ; but though I have made up my 
 mind to his being here, since here we have him, I'll own 
 to thinking it would have been better if he had never 
 come." 
 
 " While I was nursing, my mother, who was a 
 widow by that time, took care of my children ; and it 
 was she let me know that my Noonan was filling up his 
 head with fancies about these gold diggings, and go he 
 might and welcome, for he was good for little but to 
 brush jintlemen's clothes and copy their ways of 
 shaping the hair on their chins. Only who was to fill 
 the five mouths, and mine into the bargain ? He w T as 
 not over fond of work of any kind, and for him to talk 
 of going for the gold ! He found he had to do more 
 since I got my lameness, which came of an accident 
 after I weaned Miss Nora, and I'm jealous that was why 
 he left me. He was one of that sort that would rather 
 have any back ache than their own. Well, it comes 
 natural to the Irish to be married and in service. My 
 
MARIE. 99 
 
 mother had been so before me. So she made light of 
 keeping the children, when my mistress, out of pity, 
 said I might stay on, if I could. 
 
 " Good Christians help my mother ; and the Little 
 Sisters of the Poor who go about with a donkey, beg- 
 ging what rich people throw away to fill the panniers, 
 and take the children scraps every now and then ; so they 
 live somehow ! No thanks to the father. He has writ- 
 ten two or three times, and once he sent some money, 
 but it's three years since. I know he's alive, for a man 
 came home who left him well, in the States, for it seems 
 he did no good at digging. I knew he would not. I 
 keep sending him letters; that good gentleman, Mr. 
 Lawson, wrote for me, and he made friends with a 
 French priest, who wrote to a priest in the States, to 
 look him up, and show him his sins — but it's an Irish 
 priest he wants, with a big whip to bate him, and 
 soften the heart through the shoulders ! The troubles 
 I've had, and the misthress too ! 
 
 u Hard upon a year ago the master took that road " — 
 here she pointed to the way to Spain. " He was bound 
 to be a long time away about a railroad he was plan- 
 ning. So, as the mistress had a tender chest, he 
 brought us all here to pass the time he was in Spain. 
 It was more on the way to him, and is held to be more 
 healthy than Nantes. And she did hold up her head 
 at first, as if she were stronger ; but when it came to 
 
100 MARIE. 
 
 spring-time, she fell weak all of a sudden ; but she always 
 thought she was going to improve, and made me think 
 so too. But she took one cold on the top of another, 
 and we could not bring her to eat the snails which keep 
 many a one alive that has weak lungs ; and she sank 
 so fast at the end, that there was but just the time 
 to bring the master back from Spain to take his leave 
 of her. He was so near the wind-up of what he had to 
 do, that he left us boarding in that hotel till he could 
 come and move us back to Nantes himself — and I shall 
 be glad of the day, for it's time I saw my own orphans ; 
 though Mr. Lawson writes for me to mother, and reads 
 me what comes back, and I know them to be well.' , 
 
 The child, who had all through gone on telling us, 
 " Harry has nothing to do !" now began to yawn and 
 say, " Harry wants something to eat. Harry had no 
 dinner to-day !" and then, in a piteous voice," Biddy not 
 mean to give Harry any dinner to-day ?" 
 
 This put Biddy in mind of his sister, and she got up 
 in a hurry, saying, " that if he was hungry, Nora was 
 sure to be more so ; for she had not made so good a break- 
 fast as he had." 
 
 I wished to see a little of the town as I was out, so 
 she told me " that if I went straight forward past the 
 road to Spain, I should come in sight of two high towers 
 which were all that was left standing of St. Martin's, a 
 great abbey, that had the Kings of France for abbots, 
 
MARIE. 101 
 
 and was pulled down after they cut off the head of King 
 Louis, at the time of the ' French Riots,' " as Biddy 
 called the Eevolution. She added, " that they did say 
 at Tours, that every man who had put his hand to that 
 bad work died before a year was out. There must 
 have been burials past counting, for they do say that here 
 it takes two men to lay one stone in a wall, the folks 
 are so fond of their ease." 
 
 I saw her back to the hotel, then went along the 
 Boulevard, which on that side ran along like a high 
 terrace, raised above a wide, grassy hollow, filled in old 
 times with the city moat. By-and-by, my walk bent to 
 follow the shape of the town. If I had gone far enough, 
 I should have come to the river Loire, but I stopped 
 where a canal ran below, instead of the dry moat, and 
 had a pleasant view of the gardens beyond, with little 
 houses sprinkled among them ; and on my own side of 
 the canal 1 saw the white town roofed with grey slate, 
 and the church towers far above the high roofs. 
 
 Just then, my master's party came up to me. Mr. Law- 
 son had been telling them much the same things I had 
 heard from Bridget. My mistress was quite taken up 
 with the surprise that her little pet of a boy should be a 
 child of my master's schoolfellow, Mr. Henry Dennis. 
 She turned back from time to time to ask me some ques- 
 tion about the children, or the mother they had lost, 
 until Mr. Lawson parted me from her by leading the 
 
102 MARIE. 
 
 way down a street to show the house of Mr. James, 
 where Miss Goodman was staying. 
 
 When my mistress came back to the hotel, she told me 
 they found Mr. James was the doctor who had a quarrel 
 with Mr. Lawson, which she hoped to have been the 
 means of ending. She had told Mr. James how keen 
 Mr. Lawson was in his hunt for a pure French accent, 
 and the doctor had said, " he was glad to hear it. If 
 he had known him to be odd, he should have felt no 
 pique at his calling in a Frenchman. His British feel- 
 ings had been hurt to think that an English healer of 
 the soul could not trust another Englishman with the 
 healing of his body, and he had thought that perhaps he 
 would be calling in some French quack for his own soul 
 next. If he were odd, that settled all. He did love odd 
 people. There were too few of them in England now- 
 a-days, and hardly any in France. The French said of 
 themselves, that they copied each other, as one sheep 
 follows another. No doubt a good deal was due to their 
 all learning the same lesson at the same hour, in the 
 public schools throughout the kingdom. I assure you," 
 he added, " for the most part, they say the same things 
 in the same way. I can pretty nearly tell beforehand 
 what answer will be given to any remark I may make. 
 You, ma'am, who, being a female, think of dress, have you 
 not seen how the women here have all the same figure ? 
 Fat or lean, they all aim at one model ; you may be 
 
MABIE. 103 
 
 slender, or, as they call it, c svelte,' or you may be stout, 
 it does not matter, you must try to hav^ the same out- 
 line. They dine alike, ma'am, and I have no doubt 
 have the same dreams. Now, I dream (when a little 
 out of order) of good, rich, English beef. I had the 
 same dream thrice in the same week lately, and I called 
 to mind that Galen, the old Greek, the father of physic, 
 na'am, says, ' that such dreams show the patient to re- 
 quire good living.' Now, we all do here. I assure you, 
 ma'am, the patients in the hospitals sink for want of beef- 
 tea and brandy. They take in a man with a wound, 
 ma'am, or an accident, and they bleed him off at once, 
 to calm him, ma'am. I won't say it has not that effect. 
 The calm is often lasting. 
 
 " Ma'am, I am going to give myself a dinner now. My 
 cousin has brought me some good English fare, and I 
 hope you'll come and your husband ; and I know a 
 Yankee or two I shall ask, for they are as tired of their 
 diet here as I am ; and I shall offer my hand to Mr. 
 Lawson, now you have made clear to me Ms little way 
 of being crazy : and I shall ask his wife too. Poor soul ! 
 I dare say they have bled her often." 
 
 My mistress wound up with this : u And now, Mary, 
 you must know that I have said you shall make a plum- 
 pudding for this dinner. Don't raise any reasons against 
 it — I know you can do it, and I do pity the poor man. 
 He spoke with such feeling of the beef, and the bitter 
 
104 MAMIE. 
 
 beer, and the ' porter beer ' (as they call it here), I 
 thought the tears would have come into his eyes. 
 
 " It seems his wife, who has become quite French in 
 her dress and manner, cannot live long in England on 
 account of her health. Mr. James need not practise as 
 a doctor, for they have money ; but he likes something 
 to do, and something that brings him in the way of the 
 English, besides ; so he took it the more to heart that 
 Mr. Lawson should employ a French doctor. £sow, 
 Mary, be quick with my shawl, for I must call on Mrs. 
 Lawson before dinner." 
 
 When my mistress came back she said that Mr. 
 James, who liked oddity, would find Mrs. Lawson to Lis 
 mind as well as her husband, but she did not know 
 what Mrs. James, who talked of nothing but dress, would 
 make of her. Mrs. Lawson had had her head shaved 
 when ill, and my mistress found her sitting without any 
 cap or head-dress — " with just a bare, close-shaven 
 head, and a pair of ears sticking out like handles by 
 which you might lift her." 
 
 " And Mrs. James, Mary, is fair and faded, and sits on 
 a sofa with her feet on a small stool, with a little bit of 
 woolwork in her hand, and gently scolds Miss Goodman 
 for having been so very unthinking as to leave Paris 
 without new clothes. She wonders we did not all 
 stay a week or two longer to pick up the new fashions 
 for the winter that is coming on. Well, some people 
 
MARIE. 105 
 
 are like that. I had an aunt (she was Mrs. Smith's 
 sister) who wished to put. off my wedding when the 
 day was fixed, because it was a month before the 
 spring show of fashions in the little town where we 
 lived, and all my clothes would be out of date, she 
 was sure. If I had given in to her, I am afraid that 
 your master might have been tempted to put it off 
 altogether. She was vexed, though, that I did not, and 
 I do not think I ever was in high favour with her 
 again. Well, Mrs. James dresses like a Frenchwoman, 
 and has the figure her husband describes, and she is 
 bent on making Miss Goodman have a figure, too, and 
 she raises her eyes sadly when she speaks of how badly 
 gowns are made in England, and that is all she seems 
 able to do. There is that dear little boy out again. I 
 am sure it must be too cold for him. I must stir up 
 your master to write to Mr. Dennis to offer to do any- 
 thing we can for those poor children. As they are to 
 go back to Nantes, we might take them when we go." 
 
 "My dear," said Mr. Kichards, "do remember the 
 donkey, and Tom, and the octroi. Two children and 
 that nurse would be worse than all the rest, and Mr. 
 Lalor's horse into the bargain." 
 
 " Nora would not be so bad without the nurse," said 
 my mistress, musing. " I suspect that woman favours 
 her at the expense of her little brother. Perhaps, when 
 Mr. Dennis comes home- " 
 
106 MARIE. 
 
 " You alarm me, Anne," said my master. "You never 
 were thought like your Aunt Smith, were you?" 
 
 " To compare that fine little boy with an old blind 
 donkey !" said my mistress, who had often had a wish to 
 adopt a child. 
 
 "Mrs. Smith would not allow me to compare any 
 child with Joseph," replied my master, who, however, 
 did write to Mr. Dennis that night, like a good husband 
 as he was and is. He sometimes sends my Ernest a 
 whole boxfull of his cast coats and trousers, which 
 have more wear in them when old than the flimsy 
 French cloth when new, and I tell my man that to 
 wear one of my master's coats ought of itself to teach 
 any man how to treat a wife kindly ; not that I make 
 any complaint of my husband, Frenchman though 
 he be. 
 
 The next day being Sunday, Mr. Lawson came to our 
 rooms with his little girl and the Dennis children, and 
 my master and mistress went with them to the English 
 church, followed by Biddy and me. We left them at 
 the door when we had given up the children to a 
 French female verger of middle age in a lace cap with 
 ribands, who said she would look after them, as Mr. 
 Lawson was to read prayers that morning. 
 
 At Tours the English church and the French Pro- 
 testants share one building, keeping their separate 
 clergy, and having their services at different times. 
 
MARIE. 107 
 
 As Biddy and I went to our mass I made out that, since 
 their mother's death, Mr Lawson had taken Nora and 
 Harry to church, finding that Biddy, when friends with 
 her priest, was rather apt to take them to mass. On 
 the other hand, when she did not think her priest quite 
 so ready as he should have been to do what she wished, 
 she was apt to let him know (at least, so she said) that 
 she had a kind friend in one of the English clergy, who 
 would do great ihings for her children if she would go 
 to his prayers, and she did not see what she could do 
 better if those did not help her who ought. You see, 
 Biddy (who the French priest said had "no logic," 
 meaning that he could not make her reason) had got to 
 know that, within a mile or two of Tours, there was a 
 wonderful school for turning bad boys into good, and 
 teaching them to read, write, and labour. It was called 
 a Eeformatory, and was the first of the kind ever known, 
 being started by two good gentlemen, who thought it a 
 pity that little boys who had stolen something for the 
 first time should be sent to prison to be hardened by 
 those who had been stealing all their lives. 
 
 Now Bridget had got hold of this fine, long word, 
 Eeformatory, and kept dwelling on what a thing it 
 would be if she could get one or two of her boys placed 
 there ; and when the priest asked if they had stolen, or 
 trespassed, or hurt any one's goods, though she would 
 fire up, and praise them for good children, yet it did 
 
108 MARIE. 
 
 not stop her wanting to put them in among those bad 
 boys, and she held out that " the best thing was to 
 reform them before they stood in any need of it." I 
 will answer for it, however, that Mr. Lawson never 
 aimed at tempting her to go to his prayers, and liked 
 her less after she told him as much as she told me now. 
 If she did threaten her priest to turn (of which I do 
 not feel sure), I am certain that . she never meant to do 
 so. Though her heart was warm, Biddy was a bit of a 
 schemer, and, as for truth, you could not reckon on her 
 being exact as to what o'clock it was, let alone greater 
 things. 
 
 Dr. James, who, by way of looking English on a 
 Sunday, always went to church in a blue tailed coat 
 with brass buttons and a shirt -collar up to his ears, 
 followed Mr. Lawson to our hotel after service, to shake 
 hands with him, and press Mrs. Lawson to come to 
 dinner too. Now, Mrs. Lawson had an English maid, 
 who was always saying that she would have given up 
 her place had she known " Missis would have gone on 
 so long without a 'ead of 'air," by which she meant a 
 wig, and she took the time when Mrs. Lawson was a 
 little stirred by having, for the first time for many 
 months, been asked out to dine to carry her point. Mr. 
 Lawson wished his wife to go as a sign of good- will to 
 Mr. James, and the poor lady, who had sat quiet in her 
 sick chamber without " a 'ead of 'air," was all at once 
 
MARIE. 109 
 
 eager to be like other people, and puzzled how to set 
 about it. Though her maid would rather not have 
 applied to Madame Charles, who, she was sure, made 
 fun of any one ill-dressed, there was no doing without 
 her. So, on Monday morning, the landlady was asked 
 for advice and help ; and, with a good-natured French 
 readiness to make any one fit to be seen, she went her- 
 self to the best hairdresser in Tours, and brought him 
 to measure Mrs. Lawson's head for a wig, to be ready in 
 time for the dinner-party. 
 
 Now I had no fear but that, if I did put my hand to 
 a plum-pudding, it would turn out a good one, for, living 
 about in inns and lodgings, I had watched all sorts of 
 cooks, and seen how those did who made good dishes, 
 and what were the blunders of those who spoiled all 
 they touched. Besides, I had sometimes been where I 
 myself was bound to cook, if my master and mistress 
 were to have anything set before them fit for eating. 
 Thus I had learned something of most kinds of work, 
 which has been of great use to me since, and kept my 
 lodgings full, though stupid girls, both in France and 
 England, have often told me I was silly to lend a hand 
 to any sort of work but that which was named when I 
 was hired. 
 
 Well, I was not in doubt of my skill, but, as most 
 would be who have lived as servants, I was very much 
 afraid of the cook, whose place it might be thought I 
 
110 MARIE. 
 
 was taking. Wherever I have been, the cooks have had 
 a fizz of the frying-pan in their temper, and would seem 
 to have had it in old times, when the cook basted poor 
 little Dick Whittington with her dripping ladle. I 
 knew what English cooks were. One had thrown my 
 own boxfull of coals at me, running after me to upset 
 it, where I, not she, should be bound to clean it up, 
 because I had set it down for an instant in her kitchen 
 while I ran to give my mistress a note before she went 
 out walking. Cook did not mind master or mistress, 
 but threw the coal after me in their very sight. It is 
 true Mrs. Eichards gave her notice on the spot for such 
 a want of respect ; but I never forgot that cook, and I 
 thought a French one might be still worse, and poison 
 me if I meddled in her kitchen. So I said to my mis- 
 tress that, if I were to make the pudding, I must first 
 bargain that all should be put straight with the cook, 
 and even then I would rather not be left alone with her 
 in the kitchen. 
 
 "I will do my best for you," said Mrs. Eichards, 
 smiling. "I know, Mary, that as long as you live } r ou 
 will never forget that box of coal. It seems to me it 
 would be best to make the pudding beforehand ; for I 
 remember that, when I was in France before, there 
 were all sorts of hindrances besides the cook. I forget 
 how it was, but I know our friends used to ask us to 
 dine, and say we were to have a real English plum- 
 
MARIE. Ill 
 
 pudding ; but it either came up like porridge, or turned 
 out a sort of bread-pudding with a few raisins in it, 
 but no spice or candied fruit. So let us begin early, 
 and make sure we have the right things. Now, Mary, 
 tell me what you shall want, and I will write all down, 
 and give the list to Mrs. James." 
 
 When I had ended, Mrs. Eichards said, " There are 
 two things you have not named which may be harder 
 to find than all the rest. One is a saucepan of a 
 proper size, and the other a pudding-basin. They 
 do not make suet or fruit puddings here. As little 
 Bessy Lawson says, 'there are no nice pie-puddings 
 in France as there are at home/ " 
 
 On her return, my mistress said, " Mary, Mrs. James 
 is one of those who seem to think dinners cook them- 
 selves. She knows, though, that gowns do not make 
 themselves, for I found her trying to put into poor Miss 
 Goodman's puzzled head how her ill-made best gown 
 might be brought to fit her. She said she ' supposed 
 the dinner would come together, somehow.' I gave my 
 list to the doctor, who has some warmth about him. 
 He was reading up   plum -pudding ' in Dr. Kitcheners 
 Cookery Book. He said he would see that his cook 
 bought the right things. Most of the cooks here claim 
 as their right to do all the marketing. Indeed, they 
 draw a profit from it, for every time they change a five- 
 franc piece (about four shillings), the tradesmen give 
 
112 MARIE. 
 
 one or two sous on it. When ladies here discuss their 
 servants, there is a kind of rivalry in each making out 
 that she has the best marketer. Mr. James has a cook 
 in great repute for bargaining, but he says it takes up 
 more time than it's all worth, she haggles so long over 
 a halfpenny. It's lucky she goes out to do it before 
 five in the morning. She does, I assure you, and puts 
 down her basket and says her prayers in church besides, 
 before you girls are out of bed in England. Well, you 
 are now to go to Mr. James, to see if they have a pan in 
 the house that will do ; and his cook is going to be very 
 civil to you, and the doctor will talk for both." 
 
 I went as I was told. Mrs. James was good to me 
 in her very quiet way, and said she should like to see 
 me make the pudding. The doctor took me into the 
 kitchen. It was floored with red tiles, which looked as 
 if they had never known scrubbing, This made me quite 
 afraid to look at the pans ; but there I was wrong, for, 
 however foul French floors may be, and they sometimes 
 smell of dirt, it is not often you find anything dirty 
 used in cooking. It did one's heart good to see the 
 bright copper stewpans in Dr. James's kitchen. They 
 did look so like good cooking, but not one of them was 
 suited to my purpose. All were too shallow. At last I 
 spied a metal soup-pot which I thought might do. The 
 cook, who seemed very friendly, though I did not yet 
 know enough French to catch much of what she said, 
 
MARIE. 113 
 
 told her master that she could spare that, and use her 
 old earthen soup-pot instead of it. Indeed, though it 
 was fitting that rich houses like his should possess a 
 metal soup-pot, or marmite, she for her part thought that 
 the better soup came out of earthenware. I then said I 
 should want a basin with a rim. She offered me various 
 unlikely pitchers and pipkins, at which I shook my 
 head. Mr. James said she should buy one, and I took 
 my leave. The cook showed me to the door. She was 
 a large girl from the country, in a short woollen jacket 
 and petticoat, quite covered in front by a large and very 
 clean white pinafore, with two deep pockets in front. 
 She had put this on to do me honour. Her cap and 
 collar were like snow, and all was clean but the floor ; 
 but each country has some part of the house which it) 
 prefers to leave dirty. 
 
 The next account from Dr. James was that his cook 
 had come back to tell him that she could find nothing 
 nearer to what I wanted than a wash-hand basin, and 
 that there was no need to buy if Monsieur would lend 
 his for the day. The doctor asked my mistress to let 
 me go with him to the shop, and see if between us we 
 could not find something that would do. The woman 
 at the shop, full of interest in our plans, which had 
 been thoroughly talked over between her and the cook, 
 brought forth her wash-hand basin (of about a third the 
 size of those used in England), which she pressed upon us 
 
 i 
 
114 MABIE. 
 
 as " quite our affair " — the very thing we wanted. I could 
 but shake ray head. While her tongue ran on to Mr. 
 James, I looked about at all the odd-shaped ware, of 
 much of which I could not guess the use. I was so 
 fresh from England, that my eye was shocked at seeing 
 all the coffee-sets, and every dinner-set but one, of pure 
 white. I thought white had a common look. I once 
 lived with an English housemaid who had left a good 
 place because the basin and jug in her bedroom were 
 white, and the quilt coloured, which she said was " in 
 a lower style than she had been used to." So the white 
 looked to me not fit for gentlefolks. The dinner-set 
 with a pattern was declared by the mistress to be a very 
 new and splendid thing, and she ranged plate after 
 plate before Mr. James in hope of tempting him to buy. 
 On each was a different scene in the life of the first 
 Ivapoleon, the Great Emperor. On the dishes and soup- 
 tureen were his greatest battles, and you could follow 
 his course step by step, or plate by plate, till you saw 
 him a prisoner at the island of St. Helena, insulted by 
 Sir Hudson Lowe, his gaoler, who was drawn grimacing 
 at him, and moving his hands as if about to scratch the 
 Emperor's face. Mr. James could not help laughing, 
 and asking me if I thought any Englishman would ever 
 put himself into so absurd a fighting posture. 
 
 "But it's just how they do here," said he. " You see 
 two fellows in the street look as if they were going to 
 
MARIE. 115 
 
 fly at each other at any instant ; but it all ends in noise, 
 bad names, and making faces." 
 
 Mr. Lawson, on a saunter along the street, here saw 
 us, and came into the shop. He was at once smitten 
 with some very large jugs, of the oddest shapes, which 
 he said were of true Eoman patterns. 
 
 "What a country!" he went on. "They call it 
 changeable, but how little changes ! Look at those 
 fellows passing in blouses " (that is, loose outer shirts, of 
 what we should call in England " butcher's blue "). 
 " When Ca3sar came, he found them wearing that gar- 
 ment. I must have one of each of those jugs." 
 
 Hid away behind his jugs, I found a basin which I 
 said might suit my purpose. In England, I should not 
 have thought such a coarse brown thing good enough to 
 boil a plum-pudding in. 
 
 It was not such a trouble to make the pudding as to 
 get together all the things needed for its making. I 
 made it in a little room which opened on one side into 
 Mrs. James's drawing-room, and on the other into the 
 kitchen. The cook came in and out, and talked to me 
 by signs ; Mrs. James and Miss Goodman would drop 
 in now and then, and ask if all was going right. Master 
 Tom lounged on a chair by me, and told me all the 
 troubles in store for him after Christmas, when he was 
 to enter the college (or Lyceum, as they called it) as a 
 boarder. 
 
116 MARIE. 
 
 He had made friends with some English boys, who 
 were day-scholars. They found it well enough, but told 
 him that the boarders were watched night and da}^ and 
 never left together without an -usher in the room or 
 playground. 
 
 " Just think of that !" groaned Tom. " Fellows must 
 learn their lessons with a chap sitting up in a kind of 
 pulpit in the middle of a big room, and turning round 
 and round to all parts of the compass to see that they 
 keep their eyes on their books. Low chaps, too, who 
 know next to nothing themselves, for the great guns do 
 nothing but teach, and leave the management to ushers. 
 I wish my aunt had been an uncle, Mary ! We did 
 things in a different way at old Simon's. When we 
 went first, he read us over a paper of rules, and we 
 gave him our word of honour we would keep them." 
 " And did you all do so ?" 
 
 " That's telling, Mar}' ! Some of us did, at any rate, 
 and those who did not were thought lache" 
 " What does that mean, Master Tom ?" 
 " Oh ! something baser than base. I hate this Tours, 
 Mary. It's white and dusty when it's dry, and how it 
 pelts when it rains ! They say there's some chance of a 
 flood. I wish one would come and wash away that 
 college " 
 
 It was true that people were saying that if these 
 heavy showers by day, and steady rains by night, went 
 
MAB1E. 117 
 
 on much longer, we should have a great flood, such as is 
 undergone, from time to time, by all the towns on the 
 banks of the Loire. 
 
 The weather kept us very much indoors, and we were 
 worse off than the rest, being quite apart in our pavi- 
 lion; to see or be seen, we must cross the courtyard in a 
 thumping rain. They did tell me Tours had a great 
 name for being dry. All I can say is, that when it did 
 rain there, it rained with a will. One night it thun- 
 dered and lightened ; I thought I had never seen such 
 lightning. Next morning I was glad I had been shut 
 off from the rest, for all Biddy's friends, that is, the old 
 women who cleaned pots and pans, and a girl or two 
 who did odd jobs, had crowded into her room, and sat 
 up half the night in abject fear of the storm. 
 
 Biddy, from hearing me talk, was smitten with a 
 great desire to have some part of her own in Mr. 
 James's dinner. She said she wished to back me up, 
 and see my glory when the plum-pudding was put on 
 the table, and have some change for herself from black 
 thoughts of the good woman who was buried (meaning 
 her late mistress), and the bad man over the sea (her 
 own husband). By hook or crook, or both, she did 
 manage to make it clear to Dr. James that she was the 
 very woman to help in the kitchen on the day of his 
 dinner, and to stand between his cook and myself, seeing 
 she spoke both French and English. I was to help to 
 
118 MARIE. 
 
 wait, and to take charge of Nora and Harry Dennis, up 
 to the hour of dinner, when they were to drink tea with 
 Bessy Lawson, and keep her company in the absence of 
 her mamma. Early in the morning, Dr. James called to 
 say he should be glad if I would go to his house to 
 give my last orders about my own pudding, which still 
 needed boiling again for some hours before it would be 
 fit to serve. I took Nora and Harry with me by way 
 of giving them a walk. I had cause to wish 1 had left 
 them behind, for as soon as ever Nora was in the room, 
 she spied two bottles of very choice old Port wine, 
 which Mr. James had wrapped up in flannel, and laid 
 near his wife's fire. The mischievous child made a rush 
 at them, caught one up in each hand, and, twitching 
 some of those squares of crochet- work, or muslin, which 
 some people call " tidies," off the chair-backs, dressed 
 the bottles up as " babies "in a twinkling, and capered 
 about, dandling one on each arm. 
 
 Mrs. James set up a helpless wail. " Oh, what will 
 the doctor say ! He said they must not be stirred on 
 any account !" 
 
 Miss Goodman jumped up to give chase, which made 
 matters worse, for, after running round and round the 
 table, Nora darted through the door, and upstairs. 
 There she was met by the doctor, who brought back his 
 precious bottles. He eyed them with a very rueful 
 look, and said, " after the shaking they had had from 
 
MARIE. 119 
 
 that girl (who ought to be well shaken herself), they 
 were no more fit for drinking than John Gilpin's wine 
 could have been after all that ride of his. France held 
 no such wine, and those were nearly his last bottles !" 
 
 Nora could so little understand the nature of the 
 mischief she had done, that she seemed more afraid 
 than I had ever yet seen her. I got her away as quickly 
 as I could, and, knowing that being out in the fresh air 
 works off a great deal of the tempers and naughtiness 
 of children, I took a long walk, coming back by the 
 great bridge that I might see the swollen river. How 
 the muddy water did rush along, bringing with it trees, 
 pieces of timber, and fragments that looked as if they 
 had been washed from farm-yards or cottages ! As they 
 shot the arches, my eyes, dazzled with looking, led me 
 to fancy the bridge was shaking, but I believe there 
 was no trembling, unless it were in some of the narrow 
 arches which are dry in summer. At any rate there 
 were doubts of the bridge, for at either end men were 
 posted to prevent mere lookers-on from crossing. Even 
 those who had a real need to cross were told that there 
 was thought to be risk, and difficulties were made at 
 letting them go by. Just as we came up, a troop of 
 little girls, all dressed alike, carrying baskets rilled with 
 pots, pans, clothing, and bedclothes, and most of them 
 having great rolls of bread, a yard long, stuck under 
 their arms, besides, were brought to a halt by these 
 
120 MARIE, 
 
 watchers of the bridge, just as they were going to cross. 
 Two or three women, in the dress of Sisters, were in 
 parley with the men. Mr. Lawson, quite behind, was 
 talking to some more of the Sisters. Bessy ran to meet 
 our children, and was followed by her father, who said 
 these were children brought up by the society of St. 
 Vincent de Paul. They were quitting their house in 
 Tours for another they had in the country, where tliey 
 were used to go during the great heats of summer. 
 "When they rose that morning, they had seen the water 
 rising in the garden of the house next their own. They 
 knew their turn would come next, and had hastily put 
 together all they could carry, knowing they should find 
 a bare house where they were going. 
 
 " Poor little things," said Mr. Lawson, " I dare say 
 some of them think it fun, and a pleasant break to 
 lessons. They have a two hours' walk before them, but 
 the Sisters say, ' No doubt kind people will give a lift 
 in their carts to the younger children, and carry the 
 heavier goods, as they did at the last great flood, for 
 their house lying low, by the river, they are used to 
 this kind of thing.' The watchers have doubts about 
 letting so many cross at one time." 
 
 The whole length of the Eoyal Street people were 
 bustling to get all ready for a flood. Such a moving as 
 there was of barrels from cellars, such a clearing of 
 goods from shops to upper stories ! 
 
MARIE. 121 
 
 Mr. Lawson, who seemed to have friends at every turn 
 (all the nicest people in the world, and speaking French 
 with the purest of accents), made slow progress, stopping 
 often to talk, and, midway up the street, taking us all 
 into the shop of one of his great friends, a pastrycook, 
 where he treated us to all' sorts of dainty sweet things, 
 which he shared himself, with a pleasure it did one good 
 to see in a gentleman with so white a head. 
 
 The poor woman of the shop was in sad trouble at the 
 stoppage of her trade. " There was no knowing," she 
 said, " how many days she might lose." Her husband 
 was at that moment moving all that could be moved of 
 his cooking things upstairs. 
 
 Mr. Lawson tried to comfort her by repeating what he 
 had been told as he came along, that, though it was best 
 to put all goods easily spoilt into safe places, this was 
 not looked upon as likely to be anything like so great a 
 flood as had often been known at Tours. Some dyke, a 
 few miles up the river, had been cut, he was told. This 
 would lay the country north-west of Tours under water, 
 and save that city itself. 
 
 It seemed as if he had been told truly, for, at the other 
 end of the street, instead of people tramping out of 
 Tours, we found the country folk flocking in. You would 
 have thought there was going to be some great market, 
 or fair, or cattle-show, or all three. They came from 
 two or three flooded villages, with their wives, and their 
 
122 MARIE. 
 
 little ones — their flocks and their herds. Those who 
 had upper rooms had stowed their furniture and that of 
 their neighbours as high as they could, locked doors, and 
 waded away in haste, driving before them w T ading cattle. 
 Horses, with men at their heads to lead them, drew carts, 
 holding the sick, the aged, 'the women and children, 
 sonp-pots and pipkins, clothes and bedding — and the 
 goats and pigs ! 
 
 I had often watched these very carts coming along the 
 Boulevard early in the morning, bringing in the fuel 
 and food of Tours. My master had told me he knew I 
 was drawn to them by their being so like Irish carts. I 
 never was in my own country, but I thought they must 
 have odd carts there if they were like these. For the 
 most part they were very long, and hung low on very 
 large w r heels, and it seemed as if it did not matter to 
 which end you harnessed your horse, for two long poles 
 stuck out at either end to balance the cart. There was 
 nothing at the sides but an open railing, with a windlass 
 to load the sacks of grain which were the cart's most 
 common freight, and a sort of stage, or wooden cage 
 swung below, on which the pigs made their journeys. 
 That day it was not thought safe to trust them down 
 below, so they 'rode in state for once. Another kind of 
 cart had solid sides like those we see in England, but 
 was covered with a kind of hood of coarse, brown, home- 
 made stuff, stretching from end to end, with so little 
 
MARIE. 123 
 
 allowance for height that the drivers had to duck their 
 heads the whole way they went, and those who would 
 be at ease sat at the bottom of the cart in a kind of 
 dark cavern. 
 
 I could have looked for long, it was so strange a mov- 
 ing of house, but all these things stirred some fear in me, 
 and I began to ask Mr. Lawson if there was no risk for 
 our hotel. He told me not, from what he could learn. 
 These rises of the river were very partial. 
 
 " Ah, there was the Prefet.* He should get the best 
 account now." 
 
 The Prefet was full of bustle, for in the midst of his 
 struggle to find lodgment for these poor people driven 
 from their homes, in had ridden a horseman from Blois, 
 passing on the message sent post-haste by the Prefet of 
 Orleans,*)" when he found the rise of the river, to warn 
 all dwellers by the Loire to make ready for a great 
 flood. 
 
 "He tells me," said Mr. Lawson, "that he has just 
 sent off a man on horseback to Angers, which will, in its 
 turn, give the warning to Nantes. 
 
 " Dear me ! it reminds me of my young days. When 
 the water covered a certain rock in our north-country 
 
 * A French Prefet is something like a Lord Lieutenant of an 
 English county. He is paid, however, by the State, and a house 
 found for him in the chief town of the district of which he is the 
 head. 
 
 f Notice of the rise of the Loire is now sent by telegraph. 
 
124 MARIE. 
 
 mountain-river, my father, who was the squire and ma- 
 gistrate of the parish, used to send a man on his best 
 horse across country to warn the nearest town. 
 
 " The Prefet thinks we shall have nothing serious 
 unless these rains continue, and even then not for some 
 days to come. 
 
 " It would take a high flood, indeed, to affect us at the 
 hotel ; so Mary, as it is beginning to rain again, you had 
 best take the children home. I am going to follow these 
 poor people down as far as the Archbishop's palace. The 
 good man has offered to take them in, cattle and all. 
 He has great courtyards and outbuildings, which are 
 little used since church incomes have been cut down, 
 and his house, like the cathedral, lies on high ground, a 
 dry patch floods never reach. 
 
 " It is better to come off bag or baggage, as these have 
 done, than be driven nine or ten together into one upper 
 room, as used to be the case with some in our parish. I 
 remember one poor cottage, parted into two dwellings, 
 with a trap-door, that they might pass from one to the 
 other when a flood came ; and it was thought a great 
 advance when windows were put in on purpose for the 
 people to get out of." 
 
 I can say for certain, that all three children went 
 home with me, and upstairs to see my mistress, who 
 beckoned them from the window. When I had done 
 telling her all I had seen, I looked round and missed 
 
MARIE. 125 
 
 Nora. Hearing a kind of screech in the courtyard, 
 I ran to the window, and saw that trouble of a child 
 flying about pursued by Mrs. Lawson's maid. It 
 turned out that, while I was talking, she had made 
 off, looking about for any bit of mischief she could find 
 to do, and come upon Mrs. Lawson's Sarah, having a 
 kind of talk on the landing with the hairdresser's young 
 man, who had brought her mistress's wig, " which I 
 went for myself," said Sarah, "early this blessed morning, 
 and that we might be sure to have it, asked two English 
 ladies in the shop to be so kind as to put it into nice pure 
 French, that master and missis did wish most pertic'ler 
 for to have that there 'ead of 'air very early in the day, 
 as they were agoing to a peace-making dinner, with that 
 there old doctor as wears the high shirt-collars." 
 
 What does Nora do but snatch the wig from the hand 
 of Sarah, who was giving it a few words of praise and 
 a few looks of approval, before taking it into her mis- 
 tress's room, and make off with it to the court where she 
 put it on at leisure, stuck the parrot on the top of all, 
 and careered about. Seeing me and the man, and Madame 
 Charles's nursemaid join Sarah, she ran up the chief 
 staircase, the only way we did not bar, and made for the 
 window, whence she had often wished to reach for the 
 blossom of magnolia. The stick with which the land- 
 lady had hooked the branch was still standing by the 
 open window. She caught it, stuck the wig on the end , 
 
126 MARIE. 
 
 and tried to put it on the topmost branch of the tree. 
 But, too short of arm, and pressed by our hot and quiet 
 pursuit, she missed her mark, and the wig fell into a 
 great bucket of water down below. 
 
 On hearing us all declare it to be spoilt, and quite 
 unfit for wear, Nora ran off as hard as she could, passing 
 through the great doorway, and along the street towards 
 the Boulevard. I followed her, so did the French nurse- 
 maid. We both knew where she would go. 
 
 Just outside the town Madame Charles had a garden, 
 and a field or two where a cow was kept that she might 
 have pure milk to give her baby, which was very sickly. 
 The great fun of all the children was to see this cow 
 milked, and, before now, Nora, when in a worse scrape 
 than usual, had been known to hide in its shed, and make 
 attempts of her own to milk it. Biddy used to coax hei 
 back with sweets, but we agreed (Jeanne and I as wc 
 ran) that we would try' rougher ways. We caught hei 
 at last, and taking hold of her on each side, brought her 
 back to the hotel, and put her to bed at once. I took 
 away all her clothes, locked her in, and gave the key to 
 Jeanne, whose room was close by. 
 
 It was time for me to dress my mistress. Poor Mrs. 
 Lawson had given up all thoughts of going. Her maid 
 had run screaming to tell her of Nora's naughty prank, 
 and made her quite ill with fear it might be something 
 worse, some harm to her husband or child. Sarah made 
 
MARIE. 127 
 
 excuse for having upset her mistress by saying that she 
 could not help it. " It did make her own 'air stand on 
 end to think what that child had done to missis's 'ead 
 of 'air." 
 
 I did not see her hair stand on end, but I dare say she 
 felt as if it did. Mr. Lawson was unwilling to leave his 
 wife at home, and so used to see her without hair, that 
 he urged her going, wig or no wig. She had grown 
 timid from long illness, and had all at once started 
 from sitting quietly without hair, to a sense that she 
 was unlike the rest of the world, and not fit to face 
 other ladies ; so she was left behind with little Harry 
 playing about her on the floor, and telling her that when 
 he was a " large gentleman he should ride horses, sail 
 boats, and wear a blue coat with brass buttons on 
 Sundays, like Dr. James." 
 
 Bessy and he got on very well. As for Nora, she was 
 told that if she made no noise she should have her meals 
 as usual; but if she'played any pranks, she should wait 
 for her food till Biddy came home. 
 
 Our dinner had been much talked of in the hotel, and 
 though they were used to dinners and breakfasts, and 
 comings and goings, I may say they took an interest in 
 my pudding. Mr. James had planned what he called 
 an " union dinner " (this he explained, for he ivas an odd 
 gentleman, by pointing out in the drapers' shops a 
 French contrivance called an " union suit," by which a 
 
128 MARIE. 
 
 woollen vest and drawers were run into one garment). 
 His was to be " an union dinner " — the good things of 
 two countries, not the thin soup and the ragged beef, 
 but the good, strong, fat soup of France, the potage 
 gras, such as would do good to a man's heart, with as 
 good a bit of roast beef cut in the English way as he 
 could find in Tours, and the pride of the French kitchen, 
 the turkey stuffed with truffles." 
 
 These truffles are underground mushrooms, mostly 
 black in colour, found among sand in the south of France. 
 Pigs are trained to hunt for them. When a poor pig, who 
 is by nature very fond of them, scents one down below, 
 and begins to grub for it with his nose, up steps his 
 master, and pockets for sale the dainty the pig had hoped 
 to swallow. Then there was one of Miss Goodman's fine 
 home-cured hams. I wished my master and mistress 
 had eaten more of it, to avoid the trouble it had given 
 us. When it came to the salad, which, in France, is 
 served every day towards the end of dinner, Mr. Law- 
 son said he had been told that a great deal of salad oil 
 pressed from walnuts was sold in Tours, and that the 
 poorer people not only bought it for cheapness, but 
 liked it better, and thought it sweeter than olive oil. 
 
 " So they do," said Mr. James. " The person who 
 told you so was quite right in what he said. For my 
 own part, I think their salads the best things they have. 
 You can go on with salads all the year round. All the 
 
MARIE. 129 
 
 weeds round Tours go into the salad bowl, and come 
 out good — good, sir, and wholesome. The walnut oil does 
 for those brought up to it. The olive oil is better — Mr. 
 Lawson, sir, you are surely going to have some salad ? — 
 but, for my own part, I always mix my salads with 
 castor oil, which I prefer to all other salad mixtures." 
 
 Mr. Lawson, who, in civil compliance with his host, 
 was helping himself to some lettuce, let drop salad- 
 spoon and fork, pushed his spectacles half-way up his 
 forehead, brushed his front hair up on end, and said — or 
 would have said, but the doctor caught him up — " Oh ! 
 don't be afraid ; what I offer you is mixed with olive oil ; 
 I merely speak of how I mix it for my own eating." 
 
 One of the Frenchmen said that " it was, then, the 
 English custom to mix their salads with the oil of 
 castor ?" 
 
 11 Oh no ! never !" cried all the English voices. 
 
 " Then, perhaps, Dr. James's love for his noble calling 
 to heal mankind disposed him to dwell with pleasure 
 on, and even to relish at table, an agent of his healing 
 art?" 
 
 " Or perhaps," said another Frenchman, " our friend 
 likes to take bane and antidote together ?" 
 
 " By no means," shouted the doctor, growing testy, 
 " Kot at all — nothing of the kind. It is purely a matter 
 of taste, I tell you — of taste and liking. I like my salads 
 best with castor oil, and, on that account, buy it as pure 
 
130 MARIE. 
 
 as it can be had ; but I make allowance for the prejudice 
 of others. There ! Have some Vouvray wine, good 
 folks, and don't look so white and uncomfortable." 
 
 What a thing for Mr. James to say, when I was so 
 near putting my pudding on the table ! I could see 
 several uneasy faces, and I quite gave a shudder myself. 
 I was glad to see them drink that sparkling white wine. 
 By-and-by, when they had lost the taste of castor oil in 
 their mind's mouth, all did justice to my pudding. I 
 could see that the Frenchmen liked it as much as they 
 said they did. They had come bent on trying all the 
 English dishes ; and when, after dinner, Mr. James 
 must needs have them sit over their wine after the 
 English fashion, they made themselves up to do it with 
 a courage that did honour to their nation. They suf- 
 fered Mr. James to fill them bumpers of his precious 
 Port, though they said they had never before drunk the 
 wine of Porto, except out of those little glasses used for 
 brandy. After a few more glasses, the chief of them 
 said that he thought so well of all he had tasted that, 
 had Mr. James assured him that it was the English 
 custom to dress salads with castor oil, he should have 
 eaten some at once ! 
 
 In the kitchen my pudding was praised in the most 
 handsome manner by the French cook, who drank my 
 health in a glass of Vouvray. Biddy was returning 
 thanks for me in a mixture of French, English, and Irish, 
 
MARIE. 131 
 
 when in rushed Master Tom, shouting, " Hurrah, Mary ! 
 It's all under water! The college washed away; the 
 hotel floating along the road to Spain, with all your best 
 gowns in it ; and your kids, Biddy, and Dame Lawson 
 and her wig into the bargain !" 
 
 Biddy set up a cry which ran into a howl. I told her 
 I knew his ways too well to believe him. 
 
 " Go and see for yourself, Miss Mary. You have only 
 to walk to the end of the street. I went to have a cigar 
 and look into a cafe with a fellow or two I know here 
 (before being locked up in that Lyceum, you know), and 
 found it was a case of swimming for it. Now let me go 
 and frighten the rest." 
 
 They were so very jolly, and Mr. James so pooh- 
 poohed floods, and pressed them to let him draw another 
 cork, that I do not think any one would have even 
 crossed a street to see what was going on, had it not 
 been for Mr. Lawson. He was too uneasy about his wile 
 to listen to Mr. James, who kept telling him that, what- 
 ever came, his house lay high and dry, as safe as the 
 Archbishop's, more safe than that of the Prefet. He 
 could take us all in, and would. " Sit still, man. We 
 are used to floods here." 
 
 There was no keeping Mr. Lawson back ; and we 
 women did not think there ought to be, when his 
 wife had been so ill, and had such a turn that very 
 day. 
 
132 MARIE. 
 
 When he went, all were moved to follow — Biddy and 
 I after the rest. 
 
 The water had risen some way up our street, which 
 went down into the Eue Eoyale from the square of the 
 cathedral with a slope so gentle that, at other times, 
 you would hardly observe that the ground rose at all. 
 Without wading, there was no getting to the Eoyal Street 
 to see what was going on in it. Nothing met the eye 
 but the dull oil lamps, slung across the street, and 
 reflected in the water. On looking up, you saw lights 
 moving in the upper rooms, as if no one had gone to bed, 
 though it was now near midnight. We could only look, 
 and wonder how things were at our hotel, and whether 
 it could still be reached. Tom offered to swim into the 
 courtyard, and give any message we wished to send. 
 His aunt raised her voice to forbid him. One of the 
 Frenchmen said, " There was a chance the water might 
 not have reached the lower end of the street ; by crossing 
 to the Boulevard — which could be done in ten minutes 
 — we might perhaps reach the hotel even now." But, 
 sure enough, the river was there too, and there was no 
 knowing how deep it might be. 
 
 All who knew Tours agreed that this was indeed a 
 great flood, and thought that some dyke must be broken, 
 as they did not remember to have seen so sudden a rise 
 before. 
 
 It was settled that the next thing to be done was to 
 
MARIE. 133 
 
 make for the Prefet's house, where we should learn 
 what could be done, and perhaps find help. 
 
 We started again, but had not gone far when we were 
 hailed by a man picking his way along garden walls by 
 light of a lantern. He proved to be a waiter, sent from 
 our hotel by Mrs. Lawson, who had paid him high to 
 give her husband warning of the flood. The waiter 
 said, " Madame was in much concern. She dreaded that 
 Monsieur's shortness of sight might permit him to get 
 into the water before he knew where he was. He was 
 to tell Monsieur, from her, on no account to be rash, but 
 to come to her as soon as he could, as she could not rest 
 till she knew him to be safe. 
 
 " At the hotel all was in bustle. They had been taken 
 by surprise, and had not, dark as it was, been able to 
 move the casks from the cellars, where they were 
 floating about, knocking each other finely. The cooks 
 were shifting their tackle ; the waiters were moving 
 the scores of plates, glasses, and so forth, needed in the 
 great dining-room, to upper rooms. 
 
 " He had dropped from a window (lighting on a wall 
 some feet below), and, knowing well his Tours, had 
 made his way — a roundabout way, he must admit— from 
 one garden wall to another. He should take Monsieur 
 back in the same with safety, and even with ease, if 
 Monsieur would mount the wall." 
 
 "Then some one must give me a back," said Mr. 
 
134 MARIE. 
 
 Lawson, putting down his umbrella, and fixing his 
 spectacles more firmly on his nose. 
 
 No one could help smiling to see a short-sighted 
 Oxford clerk in holy orders making ready to pick his 
 way like a puss (in shiny, thin boots), or a boy bent on 
 stealing apples, along a slippery, w T et garden wall. All 
 cried out he must not risk it. 
 
 The waiter said he was sure he could take Mr. 
 Lawson to his wife, without any broken bones, if that 
 reverend gentleman would hold tight on to his coat-tail ; 
 but Mr. Lawson was so urged to try some other means, 
 that at last he let the waiter go as he came, sending his 
 wife a message that somehow he should reach her that 
 very night. 
 
 Just as the waiter bent his way back along the walls, 
 up came a man wearing huge fisherman's boots. 
 
 Our waiter had (it turned out in the end) shirked his 
 proper work of helping to move tables and chairs out of the 
 wet, and got out of window for fear of being stopped by 
 Madame Charles more than from any real need so to do. 
 
 The new-comer had Madame's orders to let us know 
 that, if we made haste, he might still be able to carry 
 us, one by one, through the water, and land us safe and 
 dry in our own rooms. He had lost time, no doubt, 
 having just reached the house of Dr. James as we had 
 left it, and tried to find us in two or three quarters. 
 Still he would try. 
 
MARIE. 135 
 
 Mr. Lawson looked at the man, who was low and 
 broad, and said, " I think, my friend, if you would lend 
 me your boots, I should like to- wade across better than 
 to be carried." 
 
 11 You think him not the man to carry two such tall 
 stout Englishmen as yourself and Kichards?" said Dr. 
 James, chuckling. "Ah! he's wiry, though. Still a 
 boat would be better than walls or wading. Let us go 
 on to the Prefet's. We are almost certain to find one 
 there. My good man, come with us. We may want 
 you yet." So said, so done. The gentlemen went on to 
 the house of the Prefet, and we women went back to 
 Mrs. James. 
 
 She had never stirred from her sofa, and seemed to 
 think we were all making a fuss about nothing, though 
 she did admit that these floods were unpleasant. u She 
 should like," she said, " to return to England. Things 
 were better there ; but England had three great draw- 
 backs — the rawness of the climate, the hurry people 
 were in (even ladies walking quickly !), and the bad way 
 in which the dressmakers made gowns." 
 
 After what seemed to us a very long time, my master 
 came back. He said they had found the Prefet very 
 civil. As the English had no consul at Tours, the 
 Prefet had more to do with them and their affairs than 
 would be the case in seaport towns. The Prefet owned 
 that they had been taken by surprise. It had been 
 
136 MARIE. 
 
 thought that boats would not be wanted unless it were 
 in the streets close to the river. Boats had now been 
 sent for to bring off people who were at a ball given in 
 one of the great houses on the Boulevard. Our party 
 might be taken in one to the hotel, unless it would 
 prefer waiting for daylight, which he should advise. 
 
 Mr. Lawson chose to go at once, rather than leave his 
 wife to work herself into a state of alarm that might be 
 hurtful to her health. My master had closed with Dr. 
 James's offer to find room for us all. He thought there 
 was " nothing to make it worth our while to go boating 
 at midnight in search of beds in a damp hotel. It was 
 quite another case for Lawsou, who had to think of his 
 wife, or Biddy, who must go to her children." 
 
 "But Mrs. Eichards has her gowns!" put in Mrs. 
 James, not from any wish to get rid of us, for I do not 
 think she cared how many were quartered in her house, 
 so long as she was not troubled. 
 
 " Oh ! Aiane won't mind her gowns," said my master. 
 "All English made, Mrs. James, not worth a regret. 
 Now, Biddy, you must come along with me to the Prefet's 
 house. No ribk at all, Miss Goodman, I assure you, 
 unless it be the risk of running aground now and then." 
 
 Miss Goodman went to direct and I to help the getting 
 ready rooms needed for us poor waifs and strays cast by 
 a flood into unlooked-for quarters. By-and-by back 
 came my master with Dr. James, who shouted for supper. 
 
MARIE. 137 
 
 " He found floods as good as hunting, famous for making 
 your food digest twice as soon as usual/' and a good 
 supper they both made, while we women wondered they 
 could eat so much so soon after a good dinner. 
 
 Miss Goodman being out of the room, no one missed 
 Master Tom for some time. He, too, came in quite 
 ready for supper. 
 
 " This was the only bit of fun he had been in since he 
 came to Tours. He had gone in the boat with Mr. Lawson ; 
 that good, absent man never saw him till they had pushed 
 off, and the fishermen took him to be one of those they 
 were hired to convey to the hotel. He took the steering. 
 
 " Such fun it was to go along the middle of the Boule- 
 vard between the rows of trees ! He thought it must be 
 like Venice. The French treated the flood as if it were 
 a fete " (or festival, as we say in English). " Old and 
 young were out on their balconies, which they had lit 
 up with every kind of lamp, candle, and lantern they 
 could find. They talked from one house to another. 
 At more than one there was music and dancing. Tom 
 did not think Venice could be prettier, though the parson 
 said ' it was more like Holland.' Parson thought it 
 tedious ; the boat getting aground every now and then. 
 Tom saw him and the Irishwoman into the hotel, and 
 would have liked to go and bring off some of those 
 pretty girls at the ball, but the fishermen had found him 
 out, and would not allow themselves the pleasure of his 
 
138 MARIE. 
 
 company any longer. How jolly it would be to hire a 
 boat, and row up and down ihose tiresome streets !" 
 
 Next day did see many a boat in the streets of Tours. 
 Every one who could started a boat — some to make 
 money by plying from point to point, and taking food 
 or letters to those who were shut up in the upper stories 
 of their houses ; others to see what could be seen and 
 get what amusement could be had in so wet a world. 
 Some gentlefolks whose estates lay round Tours boated 
 across their own fields to see what was happening to 
 their friends within that city. 
 
 In most cases it ended in a long talk from boat to 
 balcony or window. Sometimes a cord was let down, 
 and food or letters tied to it, but very few went into the 
 houses ; for though men could be found to fix ladders, 
 ladders were scarce, and the men charged high for their 
 trouble. This was in the first hurry, for, later on, the 
 Prefet set parties of soldiers to work, and you could 
 everywhere see the short, active, little men running up 
 and down with food for those who staid in their houses, 
 and help for such as wished to leave them. It was said 
 that a soldier who bad saved three lives had himself 
 been drowned, and that he was to be buried with great 
 honours. 
 
 The boys of Mettray (that Eeformatory of which I 
 had heard from Bridget) made themselves useful in 
 saving people's goods. They had run such risks of 
 
MARIE. 139 
 
 growing up to steal them, that it was a pleasure to see 
 how well they took their training to do good instead of 
 harm. 
 
 As few but the rich had houses all to themselves, for 
 the most part living each in a story approached by a 
 common staircase, one could not but wonder how they 
 got on now that those below were driven by the flood 
 to crowd the rooms of their neighbours above. Dr. James 
 said they would do better than we should expect, or 
 would do in their place. The habit of running in and 
 out of each other's rooms, and making up little card 
 parties every night, kept them neighbourly, and ready 
 to oblige each other. Out of door work was of course 
 stopped, but the cathedral service went on the same as 
 ever, and some came from the town to their usual prayers, 
 boating so far as the water reached up the streets sloping 
 from where the great church stood high and dry, the 
 only one in Tours that had breasted a worse flood — the 
 Eevolution — without hurt or harm. 
 
 On asking how long the flood was likely to last, and 
 learning there might be at least a week of discomfort, 
 my master and mistress made up their minds to seek 
 lodgings rather than put Mrs. James out of her way. 
 People in France are not in the habit of asking others 
 to take " pot-luck," or finding them beds in a hurry, as is 
 often done in England. You would cause much surprise 
 did you seem to expect it (even from far more active 
 
140 MARIE. 
 
 housewives than Mrs. James), and find them very ill 
 provided with nearly all things but bed and table-linen, 
 of which they make it their pride to gather great stores. 
 I think, besides, we were all afraid of Dr. James's taste 
 in salads. On the other hand, it was thought far too 
 dismal to return to our pavilion, cut off from the rest, 
 so that we should have had to boat across the court 
 every time we wished to give an order or see a friend ; 
 so a boat was hired, and we pushed along the Rue 
 Eoyale to our hotel, where we had to wait some time 
 before we could enter the courtyard. Flood or no flood, 
 the hotel went on, and people travelled ; they had to go 
 farther round, that was all. 
 
 It was a great diligence just entering the court that 
 kept our men lying on their oars. No one had chosen 
 to risk riding inside. The passengers sat on the roof, 
 and some rode the horses. Ah ! what a noise there w r as 
 of French tongues ! What a skirmish to get people and 
 luggage down, and down dry ! At last it was all done, 
 and we had our turn of trouble to get out and in. I 
 half clambered, half was lifted up our stairs, and set 
 about packing our boxes, while my master paid the bill, 
 and my mistress paid a visit to Mrs. Lawson. She had 
 gone into the rooms we found so noisy that first night 
 of ours in Tours ; quiet enough just now. When her 
 fright was over, she found the flood the greatest break 
 she had had since she saw the fireworks on the King's 
 
MARIE. 141 
 
 birthday. She changed from window to window, and 
 watched all that stirred. The worst was, her child was 
 fretful from want of air and movement, and Biddy's two 
 were very noisy and troublesome. 
 
 " Biddy was full of you, Mary," said my mistress. 
 " 1 told her you were well, but that Dr. James's cook 
 complains that your pudding has lodged in the upper 
 part of her chest. She told me this morning (putting 
 her hands to the place), ' It is very good, that pudding ; 
 but it does not descend.' " 
 
 Madame Charles did not like our leaving, and would 
 give my master no help to find lodgings, professing to 
 know of none in Tours except those in a house belong- 
 ing to her husband, which was as much under water as 
 the hotel. It was part of his good nature to take her, 
 as he did, back with us in the boat. You see he found 
 her in a fret about her baby. It was ill, and all was 
 put down to its suffering from want of cow's milk. The 
 cow kept for it had been forgotten in the bustle, and 
 left for so long a time to stand in a shed full of water, 
 that, when brought off, it was ill enough to make it 
 unsafe to give its milk to the baby. Madame Charles 
 thought that, by going to the country-folk at the Arch- 
 bishop's, she might find a supply of milk till her own 
 cow got well. We went with her to see the camp round 
 the Archbishop's palace. It was something between a 
 gipsy's tent and a farm-shed. We got there at meal- 
 
142 MARIE. 
 
 time. They were all eating, with great contentment, 
 soup made out of doors, in earthen pots, over movable 
 grates, or slices of their great country loaves covered 
 with a Tours dainty, much liked by working people, 
 strips of fried pork put into jars filled up with meltings 
 of pork fat (the rillons and rillettes well known to those 
 who visit Tours). An old woman, whose means did not 
 allow her to buy this foremost treat of the town, had 
 yet spent a few sous to buy the next best thing — its 
 trimmings — and left her meal somewhat loth, but very 
 anxious to turn a penny, on hearing Madame Charles 
 ask about cow's milk. 
 
 " It was a goat the lady wanted, not a cow. Every 
 one knew goat's milk was better for children. Though 
 it would cost much to her feelings, she would give up 
 for the charming baby of whom Madame spoke one of 
 her own goats — one that suckled a child of her own 
 daughter who was dead. Her daughter had left two 
 children. Both were nursed by goats. Madame should 
 see. It was a pretty sight !" 
 
 Here she pushed at two bundles of clothes till they 
 rolled over, and showed the faces (as much as was left 
 uncovered by the borders of about three caps each) of 
 two chubby children. Each was sucking a bit of bread 
 covered with the pounded pork I have described before. 
 Next she gave a cry for the goats, who were resting as 
 far under cover of a cart as they could well get. 
 
MARIE. 113 
 
 " Ah !" said a voice behind us, that of Dr. James ; 
 " the goats know well there's going to be another 
 shower. Goats are more afraid of a drop of rain than 
 any other living creatures but hens and Yankees. Fact, 
 ma'am — fact !" This was to my mistress. " You'll 
 see." 
 
 Another cry brought the goats from their shelter. 
 When they saw why they were wanted they seemed 
 rather pleased than otherwise. Each trotted to the 
 side of its own child, and laid down. The old woman 
 brought two mats out of her cart, spread one by each 
 goat, and put the children to lie on them, and suck to 
 the content of both goats and children. One goat would 
 not suckle the other's child, and Dr. James doubted if 
 either would take to a strange baby. 
 
 " From what I see," said he, addressing the horses 
 and donkeys about him, " you are the only fellows who 
 make a holiday out of all this. You are fed as usual, 
 and have nothing to do. Make the most of it while you 
 can." 
 
 Dr. James was right about the goats, which one and 
 both refused to suckle Madame Charles's baby ; that is, 
 they did not make things pleasant, and she had to fall 
 back on cow's milk. 
 
 I often went to the Archbishop's during the rest of 
 our stay at Tours. It was all one could do, unless one 
 went to mass. The gentry amused themselves with 
 
144 MARIE. 
 
 trying how many streets they could enter in a boat, and 
 talked of nothing but how many inches the river rose 
 or fell daily. My master said, when the roads were 
 open we should go on to Nantes. At present, tiresome 
 as it was where we were, we might be worse off. So 
 general was the discomfort, that many people who had 
 been loitering at Tours found, all at once, they had got 
 the little push needed to make them leave that cheerful, 
 quiet city. Mrs. Lawson began to feel as if she were 
 now well enough to proceed to Pan ; but her husband's 
 packing took some time and fretted her so much, that 
 Madame Charles talked her into hiring a packer, a man 
 who came in, and under Mr. Lawson 's eye wrapped in 
 paper, and bedded in straw, the curious things he had 
 gathered by the way. 
 
 During the flood my master used to wonder how 
 things went with his poor barber, a man who lived in 
 the Eoyal Street. This barber used every day to tell 
 my master, " Tours, sir, is a city where one is aware 
 that one is living !" About twice a week he would vary 
 this by saying, " Sir, you may exist at other places, but 
 you live at Tours !" His was the first shop Mr. Richards 
 entered after the flood settled down, and his was the 
 first chin poor Symphorian had shaved since it began. 
 My master did nothing but laugh when he thought of 
 the grimaces made by this barber while telling how his 
 customers had seized the chance of savins: some half- 
 
MARIE. 145 
 
 pence by letting their beards grow under the paltry 
 pretence of a wretched flood — a flood ! Bah ! He had 
 sent his "clients" a notice informing them that they 
 might be shaved as usual if they would mount to the 
 first floor by a ladder, which he should provide at the 
 small charge of one halfpenny for each ascent. No extra 
 charge would be made for the better light of the first 
 floor, or the spectacle of the boats in the Eue Eoyale. 
 Could anything be more fair ? 
 
 " Sir, had I possessed a ladder of my own (as I will 
 by the time there is another flood), I should not have 
 put on that halfpenny, but taken it out of them in oils 
 and essence ; but those who have ladders, as you can 
 understand, raise a frightful tax at these times. Sir, I 
 had to pay high to have that ladder, and they did not 
 come, the niggards ! I shall have them in a crowd on 
 Sunday morning with long beards, sir ; yes, sir, with 
 long beards ! Picture that to yourself ! An English- 
 man, sir, would have scorned the halfpenny, and climbed 
 that ladder for love of adventure ! You do not know 
 how sous are cherished in France. Every one of my 
 subscribers will try to make me deduct from his monthly 
 payment as many fees as he has missed times of being 
 shaved under the excuse of a flood !" 
 
 My master did not quite know what all this meant, 
 but, by putting questions, made out that it was not the 
 custom in Fiance, as it is in England, for gentlemen to 
 
146 MABIE. 
 
 keep razors of their own, but that the way is to pay a 
 little sum monthly to a barber, who undertakes to keep 
 their chins shaven, and to give their hair un petit coup 
 de peigne (a little hit with the brush and comb) into 
 the bargain. 
 
 One morning my mistress said I was to go wdth Dr. 
 James's cook to see a grand wedding. Jeanne had been 
 fretting because a plan of her own for marrying had 
 been thwarted, and Mrs. James seemed to think that 
 looking at some fine clothes would raise her spirits. 
 On my way to the doctor's house I saw Biddy coming 
 as fast as she could to meet me. She threw up her 
 hands and began talking to me long before I came close 
 enough to make out what she said. It was all to tell 
 me that her master's sister had come late last night, and 
 "brought marching orders; and wasn't she a jineral, 
 too ! It was she knew well how to give the word of 
 command ! * Here, Bridget,' and ' There, Bridget,' for 
 she was too jintale to call me * Biddy,' and the poor 
 children must be checked when they did so, as came 
 nateral from their sweet mouths. And it's ' Bridget, 
 you don't surely allow Miss Nora to eat them unwhole- 
 some bombows?'" (For so Biddy, though she had 
 lived so long in France, always pronounced the word 
 u bonbons.") " And it's ' Bridget, do you permit Master 
 Harry to run in the courtyard without his cap ?' I am 
 under the rule of the Saxon, that I am, this morning, 
 
MARIE. 147 
 
 lass ! She has brought her English domineering ways 
 over the sea with her. Lass, when I came out she 
 wanted to clap an old bonnet of her own on my head, 
 and said that, to see me out of doors in a French cap, 
 no one would take me for the servant of a respectable 
 English family. * But,' says I,   ma'am/ says I, * I'll 
 take your orders about the children (though, perhaps, 
 when you've lived as long in France as I have, ye'll 
 know that they may sit out of doors, or run out into 
 the air, without wraps, as they couldn't do in England) » 
 but not the masther's self (and far would he be from 
 wishing it !) could make me give up my good name by 
 putting on a bonnet. I am a decent married woman, if 
 I'm not a widow, and I'm not going to hurt my char- 
 acter by dressing above my station.' Why, it's you 
 yourself, Mary Eyan, I've had to spake up for (and 
 sharp I did it too), for one of the quarrels that her 
 young man picked with Dr. James's cook was that she 
 should have been seen walking with you, who wore 
 a bonnet. And if you go to Nantes, as you say, you'll 
 find yourself more talked about there than at Tours, 
 where they are more used to the English ways. If 
 you'll take a hint from a friend, you'll do as I've done 
 for these years and years, and wear a cap for the sake of 
 peace and a good name. It's not I would be advising 
 any young woman to marry, but you might like a 
 young man to walk with you just to give you the look 
 
148 MABIE. 
 
 of being courted, and keep the other girls from crowing 
 over yon, and, if you'll believe me, no steady workman 
 will walk with you if you wear a bonnet ; so give it up, 
 or you'll get nothing better than one of those fellows 
 who are never out of the wine-shop." 
 
 I said, rather shortly, that what I had told her of my 
 history went more to show that I ran away from mar- 
 riage than that I rushed at it. 
 
 "True for you," said Biddy; "but still you might 
 like some one to tase a little, and I'd do my best to help 
 you to one as did you credit to be seen with, and I'd 
 look on with pleasure if you vexed him, and think } t ou 
 were making one man pay a little for the wrongs another 
 of them did me. Lass, you'd never square that account 
 if ye drove half a dozen of them to hang themselves ! 
 But I like your sinse, and glad I would be if I could 
 find you a good match, and settle you near me in Nantes. 
 I'll spake to the priest when I go back. It's they find 
 husbands and wives for the rich folks. If you've saved 
 money you may marry a tradesman, and then you can 
 wear your bonnet with the best of them. That is, if 
 you marry the right kind of tradesman, for it's not all 
 trades will do. I knew two sisters, butcher's daughters, 
 who were kind with one another as kind could be, till 
 one married a watchmaker and the other a baker. Then 
 came heart-burnings, for one sister might wear her 
 bonnet like a lady, and the other must not presume. 
 
MARIE. 149 
 
 Now, I'll jist go in with you, and see how Jeanne takes 
 on, but as for me going to weddings — it's one too many 
 I've been to, already." 
 
 Jeanne, who was a quiet girl of easy temper, did not 
 admit that she was fretting. She said, " There were 
 plenty more of his sex. With her grandmother's home- 
 spun linen, and the five hundred francs (or twenty 
 pounds) she had saved, she could always marry herself. 
 I was not to distress myself at my name having been 
 brought in by that good-for-nothing ! It was only one 
 of his numerous vilenesses. She had been warned by 
 her family that he was seeking excuses to break off the 
 match. She had shut her eyes, misled by a partial feel- 
 ing which (she thought) we would excuse when she 
 told us that he was a very good cook, and cleaner of 
 rooms. For herself, she was weary of the stewpan. 
 She had been brought up in the country, and she thought 
 that, by taking a husband who could do the housework, 
 she might refresh, repose, and amuse herself for a season 
 by working in the fields." 
 
 " But there are more than he can cook !" said Biddy. 
 " Come with me, and I'll show you a young man who 
 can do that, and most things besides. I'll tell him of 
 your money and other good pints. I left him in his 
 white cook's apron, helping the chief male housemaid to 
 make the beds, and he'd have unpacked his commander's 
 boxes if she'd have let him. Come with me, and I'll 
 
150 MARIE. 
 
 let you have a look at him ; and Mrs. Lawson's Sarah 
 will be glad to go along with you to the wedding. She 
 was full of it last night, but this morning I've not had 
 time to throw a word at her, or at any one else, I've 
 been so kept on my drill." 
 
 I was for going straight to the church ; but Jeanne, in 
 a solid, business-like manner, said she should like to 
 have a look at the parti, that is, the young man Biddy 
 had named to her for a match ; so we all three turned 
 our steps to the hotel. By the way, Biddy soothed me 
 by saying that the bonnet of Mrs. Lawson's maid would 
 keep mine from looking out of the way, and comforted 
 the cook by telling her to bear in mind that, as her 
 young man had left her now, he would never have the 
 chance of doing so after marriage. As for Ernest, this 
 young man of whom she had spoken, " he was a Nantes 
 boy she knew well. The masther took him into Spain 
 as his own valet and cook and housekeeper, for it seemed 
 Spain was a queer country. When you came tired of a 
 night to your inn, you had to start off to buy your own 
 dinner, which was mostly pork chops, and fry them 
 yourself you might, if you wanted them so as they could 
 be eaten. So the masther took Ernest to buy them and 
 fry them, and save him all the trouble ; and he had been 
 in England, too. The masther had trusted him to bring 
 his sister over (but she'd lead a troop of horse, and 
 needed no masther or man to take care of her !), and he 
 
MABIE. 151 
 
 was to help her to move the dear children and me, 
 Biddy, who spake to you, back to Nantes. And to 
 show you what she is, I've caught myself wishing 
 myself with my bad husband in the States more than 
 once since she came, and that is but a matter of twelve 
 hours !" 
 
 We found Mrs. Lawson's Sarah a good deal out of 
 humour. She said she was " that worrited with a job 
 of packing her master had given her to do, that she felt 
 quite all-overish. For her part, she did think them 
 learned men, like Mr. Lawson, were not so wise as other 
 people. Not c real clever ' (as Sarah implied herself and 
 the present company to be), 'only cracky clever.' If 
 she had known she should have had to put up with such 
 odd whims and characters as those of Mr. and Mrs. Law- 
 son, she would have taken a good place she might have 
 had near her own home. However, she should not bear 
 it all much longer. France would soon see the last of 
 her. And, Mary," she added, turning to me, "if you'll 
 take a fool's advice, you'll give up your place and go 
 back with me." 
 
 I thought it better not to take a fool's advice ; so to 
 turn it off, I said, "But what's the matter? Is Mrs. 
 Lawson taking to caps — and to French caps, too ?" — for 
 high-crowned caps, like those I had seen worn by some 
 of the nurses in the garden of the Tuileries, were lying 
 on the table. 
 
152 MARIE. 
 
 " Bless you, no !" put in Biddy ; " it's her masther is 
 taking to caps ! Sarah's trouble is that she has a mis- 
 thress that won't wear caps, and a masther that buys all 
 the new shapes he comes across." 
 
 Sarah said this was quite true. " All the way as they 
 came through what was called Normandy, a stopping to 
 look at old churches (as she could see nothing in them 
 to make a fuss about, except that some of them had got 
 good comfortable pews, as put you in mind of your own 
 country), if ever the master saw a woman with some- 
 thing on her head as looked as if she were set to frighten 
 the crows, he must go and buy one like it, and dear 
 they made him pay. Missis might have had real lace, 
 and plenty of it for the money, and, will you believe me ? 
 when we came here he got Madame Charles to buy him 
 a milliner's head-block, and when he has people to tea, 
 he makes me pull out first one 'ideous, ridic'lous fright, 
 and then another, and arrange it on this doll without a 
 body." Here Sarah held up the head-block. " Not but 
 what I will say it has a pretty face of its own," added 
 she, looking at it affectionately. " It's not so red in the 
 face as they make them in England, and more genteel- 
 like in its features ; but to think of an old clergyman 
 like Mr. Lawson taking to dressing dolls ! It makes me 
 mad, it does, to stand by and change the caps, and hear 
 him talk by the hour that ' this is the cap of Eouen, and 
 this the cap of Coutances, and how curious it is to find 
 
MARIE. 153 
 
 each head-dress once, in its turn, the fashion of the 
 French courts in the Middle Ages, lingering in some 
 out-of-the-way corner, as queer old bonnets of the fashion 
 of many years ago still linger among old women in 
 remote villages in England.' I know it all better than 
 any of his sermons, I've heard it so often. He expects 
 to pick up a great many more, more 'orrid still, before 
 he gets to Bordeaux ; but it will make me stare if he 
 matches this," said the injured Sarah, holding up a cap 
 with large flaps or wings of white muslin, which were 
 stiffened out from the front so as to meet at the back of 
 the head. 
 
 This winged cap was the largest I ever saw. I said 
 it was so strange that it was fit for a museum. Sarah 
 told me that it was the cap worn at a village near the 
 city of Coutances. Her master had seen a woman, 
 " wearing that 'ideous hobject as you 'old in your 'and," 
 come out of a roadside cottage. He at once stopped the 
 carriage, and asked this peasant where he could buy a 
 head-dress like her own. Finding no shop was near at 
 hand, he bid for the cap on her head. She was so flat- 
 tered or so simple, that she hardly knew how to make a 
 charge, but, would you believe me? master said that 
 cap was ' priceless.' " 
 
 While Sarah went to get leave to go with us, and 
 Biddy to look for M. Ernest, Jeanne and I turned over 
 the caps. They were all new to her, and she thought 
 
154 MARIE. 
 
 them almost as odd as we did. I found some of them 
 were made to keep their queer shapes by a framework 
 of wire, and others were stretched over cauls and high 
 crowns of thin blue pasteboard, which both showed off 
 the patterns of the lace and kept them erect. 
 
 A little noise of laughter and struggling was heard 
 in the next room, and Harry Dennis, lathered up to his 
 eyes, and wet up to his elbows, was brought in by a 
 good-looking young man with a large moustache. 
 Biddy, coming in by another door, hailed him as Ernest, 
 and screamed at the child, " Oh, the bad boy, he's been 
 shaving again !" 
 
 Ernest, mixing French and English, told her that 
 Miss Dennis had sent him to seek the little boy who had 
 strayed from her room. He had found him in Mr. 
 Lawson's dressing-closet, holding his own little nose 
 between his own small finger and thumb, and scraping 
 his chin with an ivory paper-knife, trying to copy Mr. 
 Lawson, whom he had often watched while shaving. 
 
 a And it's not the first time lies been after it, though 
 he'll not be five years old for six months to come," said 
 Biddy, half proud of her nurseling, " and it's my big 
 scissors I've had to hide, for he begged them to make 
 believe with when Mr. Lawson locked up his razors ; 
 and now I'll tell the aunt if you do it again, Masther 
 Harry, for it's masther I'm to call you, now I'm under 
 the yoke of the Saxon." 
 
MARIE. 155 
 
 Harry, nettled that Ernest should speak of bim as 
 " little," first wriggled out of his arms, retorting that 
 he (Ernest) was "too big;" then promised Biddy that he 
 would " never do it no more, only on Sunday-days. He 
 was growing up a man and must shave on Sunday- 
 days, and wear a pretty coat with buttons, as Dr. James 
 did, and Biddy ought to let him shave on his   happy 
 day ' (by which he meant his birthday), and she ought 
 to make Nora let him have a ' happy/ for Nora would 
 say her ' happy day ' came before his did." 
 
 " Bless the child !" said Biddy, * be a good boy, and 
 keep away from the soap and water, and you shall have 
 as many birthdays as you like. Make much of them 
 while you're little, say I ; you'll be none so keen after 
 them when you're grown up. Now, Ernest, your cap- 
 tain is going out herself, and does not want you ; so 
 you may go with these young women that wish to learn 
 their lesson that they'll all have to say some day, and 
 mind you attend to the good praste's discoorse to the 
 husband." 
 
 Ernest took off his apron, was ready in a minute, and 
 walked with us down the street. I thought I had never 
 met with a more polite young man. Though there were 
 three of us, he had something civil to say to each, in 
 French or English, and did not overlook me ; though I, 
 being slender and of a middle size, was nearly lost be- 
 tween two such tall girls as Jeanne and Sarah. The 
 
156 MARIE, 
 
 cook was stout to match her height, but she was a 
 quiet girl, keeping herself pretty much to herself, while 
 Sarah had a mincing manner, and reared up her long, 
 slender neck in a way that put me in mind of some wild 
 creature I had seen in a show. Others had the same 
 thought; for Biddy told me the waiters at the hotel 
 called her " la girafe Anglaise," that is, the English 
 camelopard. 
 
 When Jeanne had made out that Ernest liked towns 
 better than a country life, and Nantes better than Tours, 
 which he thought " too tranquil," she lost all interest in 
 him as a man whom she might marry, and withdrew 
 into herself, to regret in silence that fickle person who 
 might have saved her all the trouble of cooking. 
 
 She even said afterwards, " that she could hardly make 
 out what M. Ernest said ; those Nantes people had such 
 a droll, thick way of speaking. On the other hand, I 
 had never had much fancy for Mrs. Lawson's Sarah ; but 
 still I did not think she had it in her to put herself so 
 forward as she did that morning to a young man she had 
 never seen before. It was, ' What do you think, Mr. 
 Ernest ?' ' And what is your opinion ?' — till I was tired 
 of hearing her. She must tell him how she had been 
 plagued with ' them nasty caps/ and dwelt on how 
 frightful they were, till I, thinking this not very civil 
 to the French, and a little out of humour with her, for 
 letting no one put a word in but herself, said that, for 
 
MARIE. 157 
 
 my part, I had had much the same thoughts when I was 
 new to the country, and what I might call ' raw and 
 green,' if such words were not low ; but that now I saw 
 the truth of what Mr. Lawson said, * that you needed 
 some time to get educated to the ways of a strange 
 country.' 
 
 " It was just like the French language," said I ; 
 " when I first heard it I used to strain my ears to listen 
 till I got a headache, and it all seemed harsh sounds, 
 without sense. Now, I catch a word here, and two or 
 three words there, without trying for them. They just 
 sink into my ears, and their meaning with them, and I 
 know they are just as much words with sense to them 
 as our English are ; barring that they are not so easy 
 for me to copy in the saying. And as for the caps, my 
 eyes are getting used to them. They are so clean and 
 well got up, it's a pleasure to see them ; and I think of 
 wearing one myself when we settle down at Nantes ; 
 having been advised to do so by a friend, who says 
 it's proper and prudent to follow the customs of the 
 country." 
 
 " Well I never!" cried Sarah, craning her long neck. 
 " It's a pity my mistress is suited already ! I do believe 
 my master would like to make all the poor servants in 
 England wear them caps. I shall give the parish warn- 
 ing what they may expect when he goes back. But 
 England is a free country, goodness gracious be praised ! 
 
158 MARIE. 
 
 I'll tell him of your views, and perhaps he may spare 
 you some of his caps, if you want to make a hobject of 
 yourself." 
 
 " I shall not go to such extremes !" said I, with spirit. 
 " I shall buy one or two of these little close caps they 
 wear at Tours." 
 
 " And look as if you had forgotten to take off your 
 nightcap when you came down in the morning ! I would 
 pay sixpence to see you." 
 
 Jeanne looked puzzled, for our voices were raised, 
 and Sarah, at least, had become red in the face, and 
 tossed her poor head till, if she had had any brains 
 inside it, they must have become soft with so much 
 shaking. 
 
 11 Miss would adorn any head-dress," said Ernest. " I 
 hope to see her in one so flattering to my self-love as a 
 Frenchman. Miss shows she knows how to live. Each 
 country has its customs. You have ' The Box,' in which 
 I made a point of taking lessons while in London, and 
 the aille-beer, and the porter-beer, and the Chestar- 
 cheese, to which I accommodated myself with ease. And 
 you have the good beef, but you do not know how to 
 lard it." 
 
 I could not convince M. Ernest that it was only the 
 lean, hard beef of France that needed strips of fat bacon 
 to give it richness ; so I let him have his say, and, in 
 return for my seeming to yield, he remarked, with much 
 
MARIE. 159 
 
 i 
 
 politeness, that he had " tasted sundry plum -puddings 
 made in France, but on going to England had found 
 they were but feeble efforts of the art of the kitchen. 
 Not till he tasted a real English plum-pudding did he 
 know how imperfect had been the idea he had formed to 
 himself of that exquisite meat." 
 
 " And Yorkshire pudding," put in Sarah. " I am sure 
 you must have liked that too ?" 
 
 Ernest shrugged his shoulders. " That was an effort 
 of England to produce an omelette of her own. Praise- 
 worthy, but a failure." 
 
 This talk and our previous dela} 7 made us too late to 
 see anything of the wedding. All had left the church 
 but the sexton and some of his hangers-on, who were 
 putting away a number of china vases and lilies with 
 tinsel leaves, and flowers of glass, which had been set 
 upon the altar to make it look pretty, and were now 
 being stowed in cupboards made in the thickness of the 
 church- wall. Jeanne began to think it high time she 
 should go home to look after her soup-pot. So, as her 
 way and mine were the same, we took leave of the 
 polite Ernest and the mincing Sarah. 
 
 I found Mrs. Richards on the look-out for me. I was 
 wanted to say what I knew of Mrs. Lawson's Sarah to a 
 lady who, finding that she had notice to leave when the 
 Lawsons reached Bordeaux, where they could put her 
 on board of some vessel bound for England, had somo 
 
160 MARIE. 
 
 thoughts of hiring her to take care of children. (I said 
 to myself, " That notice to leave accounts for Sarah's 
 bad tempers and rude remarks this very morning!") 
 My mistress adding that the lady was Miss Dennis, led 
 the way into the room where Biddy's " Jineral " was 
 sitting. 
 
 She was still a young lady, with thick, light curls, 
 blue eyes, and a veiy pink and white skin ; pleasant to 
 talk to, and civil, but with an active eye and a firm 
 way of speaking. She was at me in a moment with 
 "What sort of person was Mrs. Lawson's maid? 
 Correct in all respects in her conduct? Of a nice 
 temper? Clean, industrious, and clever with her 
 needle ? An early riser ? Fond of children ? Truth- 
 ful, patient, healthy, and a good hand at dress- 
 making ?" 
 
 I drew my breath. 
 
 a You hesitate. Pray speak out. I shall only be 
 led by what you say, so far as it confirms my own 
 judgment ; and of course I shall speak to Mrs. Lawson. 
 I should Tiave done so before coining here, but I found 
 she was engaged ; so that I might lose no time, I came 
 here." 
 
 Now, it was not just the moment for me to be asked 
 what I thought of the giraffe ; but I knew better what 
 was right than to injure any one who was a servant 
 like myself, so I said that I had seen little of her, but 
 
MAEIE. 161 
 
 that she had a great name for being a clever servant. 
 Indeed she had, for she gave it to herself ; but that I did 
 not say. 
 
 Mrs. Kichards, who knew my looks, said if she were 
 so useful, it seemed odd her mistress should part with 
 her. 
 
 " The young woman," said Miss Dennis, " tells me 
 that it is Mr. Lawson, who wishes to have a young 
 girl from Tours to keep up his child's French. From 
 what she dropped, they seem to be unlike other people. 
 I don't like these out-of-the-way notions. Of course I 
 shall hear what they have to say. You see, if I take 
 Sarah, I can part with that Irishwoman. A more unfit 
 person in every way to be with children, you can hardly 
 fancy. One must pity her, of course. It is time she 
 was with her own. My brother has had too much in 
 hand to look after these poor children ; but I shall turn 
 over a new leaf." 
 
 " And tear out a good many old leaves, and loosen the 
 binding !" said my mistress, as Miss Dennis went. " Just 
 the same Katharine Dennis she was at school ! Now, 
 John, I won't have you fall in with her plan that we 
 should all go to Nantes as one party. Do, for once, let 
 us travel without some one hanging about us like a 
 millstone. I know Katharine. If she goes with us, we 
 shall not have a bit of our own way all through the 
 journey. So don't be good-natured this time." 
 
162 MARIE. 
 
 " My dear Anne, I don't know when I've seen you so 
 fierce !" 
 
 " I was at school with her," said my mistress. 
 
 So it was settled we should leave as soon as we conld 
 engage three good places in the diligence, and that we 
 should compound with Miss Dennis by offering to look 
 out rooms for her in Nantes. 
 
 As it chanced, Miss Dennis fell ill. Her rapid jour- 
 ney, change of diet, and over-zeal to put the children 
 and Biddy to rights, knocked her up. She was forced 
 to take to her bed, whence my mistress took her orders 
 to look out and see all the lodgings in the city of Nantes, 
 select the most likely to suit, and be ready to point 
 them out when Dr. James thought her fit to travel. 
 
 In the outer room, Biddy, who had had notice to leave, 
 said things I had better not write about. g The pain of 
 parting with her nurslings seemed, however, to be quite 
 done away with by joy at the thoughts of getting free 
 from their aunt. 
 
 Mr. Lawson could not but express his mild wonder 
 that Miss Dennis should have engaged his wife's maid, 
 who spoke English so badly, and could do nothing 
 thoroughly, when, for the same wages, she might have 
 nired a first-rate needlewoman with a pure French 
 accent. He bid us good-bye, not without hoping we 
 should all meet again. 
 
 Mv mistress some time afterwards had a letter from 
 
MARIE. 163 
 
 his wife, in which she said their luggage had proved 
 such a trouble that, on reaching Bordeaux, Mr. Lawson 
 shipped his packages to England, and began afresh to 
 collect every odd old thing that came in his way. She 
 liked Pau, and found herself gaining strength ; but Mr. 
 Lawson said ' it was as bad for the accent as it was good 
 for the lungs.' Well, he was a good gentleman, and 
 always took off his hat to me when I met him in the 
 streets, and Sarah said he did the same to the poorest in 
 his parish. 
 
 Leave was taken of Miss Goodman, who, under the 
 care of Mrs. James, was being brought to look (in point 
 of dress) about as much like a Frenchwoman of Tours as 
 a Frenchwoman of Tours looks like one of Paris ; and 
 of Master Tom, who seemed in better humour with the 
 place, and was fast becoming a kind of leader among 
 the English and American lads of his own age. He told 
 me, in his off-hand way, to drop him a line to say if 
 Nantes were jolly ; in which case he might run down 
 to take a look at us ; and he gave me a box of sweet- 
 meats to eat on the journey, and begged me not to fret 
 too much at parting from him. 
 
 Leave was taken of Mrs. James, who said how much 
 she wished she were able to live in England. This she 
 always said when English people were leaving Tours ; 
 but she did not mean it. She had fallen into a way of 
 life that suited her. She liked to sit, nicely dressed, 
 
164 MARIE. 
 
 on her sofa, and listen to the prattle of her French 
 droppers-in, who amused her, and talked her share and 
 their own. 
 
 " She was quite a Frenchwoman !" said the other 
 English ladies. 
 
 They were wrong, for most Frenchwomen earn the 
 pretty dresses and little pleasures of the evening by the 
 morning's close and constant watch over the soup-pot 
 and the frying-pan, by a checking of every sou, a 
 making each poorest morsel of food or clothing yield 
 its utmost, of which scarce one Englishwoman in a 
 thousand has any notion. 
 
 Leave was taken of Dr. James, who had something 
 hearty about him which made my master and mistress 
 press him to come to visit them wherever they might 
 be living. He said he should be sure to find them out, 
 if in England, the next time he went to see his friends. 
 Mrs. James " doubted whether she could ever trust him 
 to go to England again without her. He stayed away so 
 long that last time, did her commissions so very badly, 
 and did nothing but grumble at the French living, and 
 need blue pills for so many months after his return." 
 
 " Never heed her, Richards," said the doctor ; " when 
 my stomach takes its fit of home-sickness, as it does once 
 in two years for certain, I'll find you out, and Mary 
 shall put it to rights with plum-pudding. I often think 
 of the poor German princess who married the brother of 
 
MARIE. 165 
 
 King Louis XIV., and fell ill on the light French cook- 
 ery, and had to send for sour cabbage and uncooked ham 
 and sausages to restore the tone of her stomach." 
 
 All was now said and done, and one morning we 
 started. It was not till we got some little way out of 
 Tours that we saw the full extent of the havoc wrought 
 by that great flood. Hedges had been carried away, 
 trees torn up and tossed over fields so covered with 
 sand from the bed of the river, that you could not see 
 any trace of the young wheat growing there ten days 
 before. Whole vineyards were rooted up, nothing re- 
 maining but a few stubborn old stumps. In some places 
 great gulleys were left, showing that the river had made 
 itself new channels or short cuts from point to point. 
 Many houses still stood deserted, and all looked so 
 dismal and forlorn, that it was a comfort to think that 
 at Angers we should leave the diligence and go on by 
 steamboat. It was better to be on the river than to be 
 looking at the waste it had made on land. A farmer 
 from near Angers, travelling with us, smiled when my 
 mistress said something of this kind, and told her it 
 would be very good for the chanvre, or hemp-plant, 
 which is much grown on the lowest ground by the 
 Loire. There would be a fine crop next year. 
 
 " Yes," said my master, "the Loire is somewhat like 
 the more famous Nile. It gives even more than it takes. 
 I have heard of very high rents being paid for land so 
 
166 MARIE. 
 
 placed that the high waters of the Loire overflow theni, 
 and leave a thick layer of inud behind ; and an island, 
 such a little island as is very common in the river, is 
 worth a deal of money." 
 
 The farmer confirmed this, but added it would not do 
 him much good. He grew flax. Floods were not so 
 good for flax as for the hemp-plant. 
 
 M I am glad they are good for anything," said my mis- 
 tress, u for it is quite sad to see these pretty banks, which 
 I used to think more pleasant than those above Tours, 
 so ravaged and desolate." 
 
 Saumur, the only town between Tours and Angers, 
 looked as if all the corn of the province must be ground 
 there, if you might judge from the number of windmills 
 perched on the high ridge of cliff overlooking the town. 
 Our farmer had been born at Saumur, and brightened 
 on seeing his clean and lively town. It was not, he 
 told us, dull and dismal like dark old Angers, known all 
 over France as the black town, and a nest for men with 
 minds and plans as dark as their grimy skins or the 
 smoke from their chimneys. 
 
 M There," he said, " they forged plots as well as iron. 
 It was the centre of a secret society of all the hot heads 
 of Anjou. Now, at Saumur, all was gay and frank. 
 Soldiers from the great cavalry school dashed about the 
 white streets all day long on horses so fine it was enough 
 to set you dancing to see them." 
 
MARIE. 167 
 
 " Angers still keeps up its old repute," said my master 
 to his wife. " You remember Shakspeare speaks of the 
 4 saucy walls ' of that ' contemptuous city/ Now, Mary, 
 you'll think you're back in Lancashire before night." 
 
 Sure enough, as we came near the slate and coal works 
 before you enter Angers, we began to see men of a 
 rougher mould, with hard and weather-beaten faces, such 
 as you would see about Newcastle-upon-Tyne. My 
 master said that the north of England face was even 
 imre common about Poitiers, but that it would take his 
 frfend, Mr. Lawson, to say whether the Poitevin and 
 Angevin blood had got to the top in some English dis- 
 tricts as the oil rises in the mixing of your salad, or 
 whether England had the better of Poitou and Anjou. 
 
 All he could tell was that there must have been enough 
 coning and going between the two provinces and Eng- 
 land in the times when all three were under one lord, 
 to account for the great likeness in face and figure, and 
 some traits of character. 
 
 Ycu now approach Angers by a fine boulevard, through 
 a new town, but there was nothing of the kind when we 
 alighted at an old inn, laid out like that first hotel in 
 Paris where we were so nearly blown up, but much 
 darker and more dirty. It is now pulled down, but, 
 such a! it was, we took a good night's rest in it. Next 
 mornirg we saw the old castle, now turned into barracks ; 
 I thought I had never beheld one so striking, or that 
 
168 , MARIE. 
 
 gave you such a feeling of what fierce times it must have 
 seen, and what high-handed doings. It seemed to hold 
 up its head as if to say it had had its own share in what 
 we should call crimes nowadays, and did not feel sorry, 
 but rather scorned us and our petty little modern notions. 
 My master leaned against that part of the castle- wall 
 whence there is a grand view of the river, and part of 
 the town lying far below, and taking out his Shakspeare 
 read the scene from King John, in which the kings of 
 France and England meet as enemies " before the gates 
 of this rebellious town," each calling upon the towns- 
 people, "Ye men of Angers, open wide your gates!" "but 
 the "men of Angers" reply from their "flinty walls," 
 in a very sensible manner, that the two kings had berter 
 fight it out, and see which is the master before Angers 
 lets either of them in. 
 
 Next, we went on board the steamboat, and liked the 
 river better in its proper place. One good came of the 
 late flood, that there was no risk of our running agrodnd, 
 which often happens when the Loire is shallow. We 
 passed many barges, if you could give such a narie to 
 what were but little above rafts — shallow, flat-botbmed 
 boats roughly put together to carry grain to the prt of 
 Nantes, and bring back English coal to the towns/lying 
 up the Loire. Slight as they were, being but k few 
 planks held together by a few nails, there wee not 
 many in which the master had not run up a cabinlunder 
 
MARIE* 169 
 
 the long steering-pole which is attached to the rudder, 
 and worked by means of ropes. The wife, in her Saumur 
 cap, peeped in and out, with an eye for the soup-pot and 
 an eye for the river. 
 
 "Look at them," said my master. "It puts me so 
 much in mind of the Dutchmen and their wives on the 
 canals in Holland. Much of the comfort and cheapness 
 of living down here depends on these boats, and they 
 depend on the river. One year it is too shallow to float 
 them, and another so swollen that they cannot come 
 through the bridges. My old friend the Loire is, what 
 those ruffians of the great Eevolution called him — a 
 'revolutionary torrent.' He comes from the neigh- 
 bourhood of snowy mountains, with so great a fall that 
 he runs himself dry in summer, splitting into many 
 channels and leaving many islands in his course. In 
 rainy seasons he rises with as much haste. Our captain 
 tells me that he should not wonder if the port of Nantes 
 were frozen if this cold weather lasts." 
 
 It seemed strange to come to France, and so far to the 
 south-west of France, to hear of ships being frozen up 
 in their harbour, but before many days the flag was 
 hoisted to warn vessels lying in the port of Nantes not 
 to change their berths, on account of the risk from the 
 ice that came floating down the river. At St. Florent 
 we saw a tall column by the church on the steep bank 
 of the river, put up to the general of the brave gentlemen, 
 
170 MARIE. 
 
 farmers, and peasants of La Vendee, Bonchamps, who 
 died there of wounds received in battle against a rabble 
 who murdered their king, and all but made a law that 
 there was no God. My master told us such stories of 
 the horrors of cruelty committed by these wretches of 
 the Eevolution, who made the noble river, that minister 
 of health and long life, breed a pestilence, choking it 
 with the corpses of men, women, and children, whom 
 they drowned because they could not behead them fast 
 enough, that, long as I have lived in Nantes, I can never 
 look at the old sugar warehouse on the quay, where they 
 scarcely had patience to hold some short mockery of a 
 trial before dragging their victims to be drowned, with- 
 out a shudder and a wonder that there can still be life 
 in streets that have seen such things. 
 
 As you approach Nantes by the river, the cathedral, 
 which from many parts of the town can hardly be seen, 
 rises up before you like a cliff. When you draw nearer 
 still, the castle comes in between you and the great 
 church. 
 
 Our boat stopped at a wharf above the first stone 
 bridge, where there is now a wide and handsome quay. 
 At the time of which I speak, however, the Loire ran 
 nearly up to the walls of the castle, which looked much 
 higher than it does now. A man with a blue blouse 
 and huge, noisy sabots, or wooden shoes, put our luggage 
 on a wheelbarrow, and we followed him for a short 
 
MARIE. 171 
 
 distance through the oldest part of the town, then up 
 
 some steep modern streets. 
 
 We came out in a square named from the theatre,* 
 
 which stands in it, and entered a large and well-built 
 
 hotel, which I thought handsomer than either of those 
 
 where we stayed when in Paris. I heard my master say 
 
 that this hotel had been much talked of in its time, and 
 
 that old people in Nantes who remembered it just before 
 
 the Eevolution could never be brought to believe but 
 
 that it was still the finest in France, and, therefore, in 
 
 the world. Such as it was, I felt quite lonely and lost 
 
 * Arthur Young, who made a sort of * British farmer's " tour in 
 France just before the great Revolution, was so much struck with 
 what was then the newly-built quarter of the town, that it may 
 interest some readers in Nantes, at any rate, if I copy an extract 
 from his travels : — " The town has that sign of prosperity of new 
 buildings which never deceives. The quarter of the Comedie is 
 magnificent, all the streets at right angles, and of white stone. I 
 am in doubt whether the Hotel de Henri IV. is not the finest inn 
 in Europe. Dessein's at Calais is larger, but neither built, fitted up, 
 nor furnished like this, which is new. It cost 400,000 livres 
 (£17,500) furnished, and is let at 14,000 livres (£612 10s.), with no 
 rent for the first year. It contains sixty beds for masters, and 
 twenty-five stalls for horses. Some of the apartments of two rooms, 
 very neat, are six livres a day ; one good room three livres ; but for 
 merchants five livres per diem for dinner, supper, wine, and chamber, 
 and thirty -five sous for his horse. It is, without comparison, the 
 first inn I have seen in France, and very cheap. It is in a small 
 square, close to the theatre, as convenient for pleasure or trade as 
 the votaries of either can wish. The theatre cost 450,000 livres, 
 and lets to the comedians at 17,000 livres a year ; it holds, when 
 full, to the value of 120 louis d'or. The land the inn stands on 
 was bought at nine livres a foot ; in some parts of the city it sells 
 as high as fifteen livres." 
 
172 MARIE. 
 
 in it. There was not a woman to be seen among the 
 servants, nor anyone speaking even a little English, 
 except the landlady, who sat at her desk, in her little 
 bureau, or office, near the entrance, making up accounts. 
 
 Next morning it seemed a good thing we had rooms 
 to find for Miss Dennis. My master said " we must 
 indeed be at a loss for something to do if we welcomed 
 such a troublesome undertaking. If he had been pre- 
 sent he should have tried to hold my mistress back 
 from engaging to find an} T one lodgings in Nantes — such 
 lodgings, at least, as were suited to English tastes. He 
 advised my mistress to sit still until he had seen his 
 old friend, the English consul, who could tell him more 
 about such matters than anyone besides." Mr. Richards 
 kept my mistress waiting for a long time. His excuse, 
 when he did return, was that he had "looked in at the 
 early Bourse (or Exchange), to shake hands with some 
 of his old friends. Trade was dull, and there was 
 nothing doing but weddings. Several were being nego- 
 tiated, but he had only heard one bargain struck. That 
 was between two old fellows whom he knew very well. 
 One of them said to the other, l I will give my son so 
 many hundred francs a year if you will give the same 
 to one of your daughters, whichever you like. They 
 are all charming, and well brought up, and my son is 
 not a bad lad.' " 
 
 ri Whereupon they shook hands, which is always done 
 
MARIE. 173 
 
 on the Bourse to complete a bargain. After shaking 
 hands, you are bound in honour to fulfil your contract, 
 to deliver your stuff, be it grain or wives. Yes, my 
 dear, it is all true, so you need not look as if you thought 
 I was dealing in fiction. The fact is, trade is very flat' 
 just now, and at Nantes, when they cannot do business 
 on a grand scale, they do on a small one, or, as they 
 would say, en detail. So as soon as an amazing number 
 of papers can be filled up, Mademoiselle Such-an-one, who 
 has seldom seen the streets of Nantes except from the 
 windows of the omnibus which goes round the city 
 every morning to pick up all the young ladies and set 
 them down at their day schools, and fetch them back 
 in the evening, as much watched as if they were 
 Eastern women, will be turned by the mayor and the 
 priest into Madame So-and-So, a partner in a new firm, 
 with an equal share of the capital and profits, and a 
 keen eye to the carrying on of the business." 
 
 I said nothing, but I could not but remember how Biddy, 
 in her little retail way, tried to make up matches for all 
 about her. Before she knew that Sarah would take her 
 place, Biddy had told me she should make a match for 
 the giraffe as well as for me. She should charge a 
 commission to Sarah, but as I was Irish, and a friend, 
 she should think herself repaid for her trouble by being 
 bidden to the dance and supper after the wedding. 
 
 My master now was as quick to set us on the move 
 
174 MARIE. 
 
 as I, for one, had thought him slow to return, and give 
 us some change. He had been told of a newly-built 
 house where several apartments stood empty, but only 
 by a lucky chance, for they were commonly in much 
 request. 
 
 Here I must stop to say that, before I went to France, 
 I thought an apartment just meant a room, whereas it 
 means a suite of rooms, in which one set of people may 
 live apart from the others in a house, a little house 
 within a house — your own part or share in a common 
 stock. I wished I had had this little bit of knowledge 
 when I used to have my quarrels with a cook who gave 
 herself great airs of reading, and who was in the habit 
 of telling me to " keep to my own apartment, and keep 
 out of hers," by which she meant the kitchen. Well, it 
 was too late to correct that cook. She had "declined 
 the kitchen," and set up in the more genteel profession 
 of " renovating ladies' bonnets," some years before I 
 left England. 
 
 We found three apartments vacant in a very high new 
 house. One, that on the first floor, my master at once 
 thought he had better take for ourselves ; Miss Dennis, 
 of course, would not pay the money asked for it. My 
 mistress liked the rooms, but said if Katharine were to 
 take cheaper rooms above us, we should be much too 
 near neighbours. 
 
 " I do not believe it would make a bit of difference," 
 
MARIE. 175 
 
 said my master; "I give her credit for being a woman 
 of so much action, that she would descend upon you 
 from her tower, up here on the hill, were I to take you 
 a house outside the barrier. So, as you must fight for 
 your own freedom of action, anyhow, let the fight be 
 fought here, as in a sawpit, with our Mary and her 
 Sarah having their little mutual skirmishes, and pulling 
 of caps, by way of backing their leaders." 
 
 I did not, I must say, quite like this little joke about 
 " pulling caps," because I had that very morning asked 
 my mistress if she should object to my wearing a cap 
 out of doors, like other servants in France, as I had 
 been told I should be better respected if I did so. She 
 replied that she should not have thought of urging me 
 to do so, and since it was my own wish, she should not 
 only agree, but assure me that she thought it much 
 more becoming to me than any bonnet ; but when Mr. 
 Richards saw me in a Sunday cap of lace, trimmed with 
 pink ribbons, which I put on because I was to follow 
 him and my mistress, he asked me at whom I was 
 " setting my cap." Some gentlemen do get into a silly 
 habit of joking. 
 
 My mistress gave in about hiring the apartment, and 
 then we went upstairs to look at the rooms on the floor 
 above ours, which were the next in price. There was 
 still a story vacant, that at the very top of the house, 
 which we must also mount to see. What a journey we 
 
176 MARIE. 
 
 did have tip those stairs ! I gave up counting the steps 
 after I reached one hundred. 
 
 The landlady, who seemed very wishful to let this 
 apartment, put aside all things that could be said against 
 it, in her ready French way, and made much of the 
 purer air you got into by climbing so high, and of the 
 fine view of the river and port. A cord was hanging 
 from the window-frame, to which she drew our notice 
 as to something that almost made up for the grievous 
 number of steps. " To that cord the postman tied the 
 letters, to that cord numberless parcels could safely be 
 trusted. It was equal to a servant was that cord !" 
 
 In spite of the comfort that hung on that string, my 
 mistress said that, if she were Miss Dennis, she should 
 never bring children up to that story. 
 
 " Think of it, John !" said she. " The poor things 
 would be tired before they had a run. They would 
 never be fit to mount such stairs after they had tired 
 themselves in a healthy way in the open air." 
 
 " My dear, children never do have ' a healthy run ' 
 here. They sit in pretty clothes under a tree on sunny 
 days, just as you saw them do in Paris, and each little 
 lady (under ten) takes care that her frock be not 
 chiffonne, which jis a word full of expression, meaning 
 not merely flattened or crumpled, but treated with no 
 more respect than if it were a rag. Besides, this is such 
 a town for rain that fine clothes can't afford to breathe 
 
MARIE. 177 
 
 the fresh air every day in the week. I declare it's 
 raining now, and only my umbrella among three people, 
 and you in that new Paris bonnet, at which I saw every 
 woman who passed you turn round to gaze, and Mary in 
 a * novelty of the season ' quite equal in its own way ! 
 What made you forget that this is one of the rainiest 
 towns in Europe? Well, there is one comfort, I can 
 always hire you umbrellas for a few sous." 
 
 So saying, he led us to the shop of an umbrella maker, 
 who, asking " if we wished to hire umbrellas by the day 
 or the hour," gave us our choice among a number, of all 
 colours from bright red and blue to modest brown. 
 This struck me at the time as something very droll, but 
 it shows how rainy the place must be when a new 
 branch of commerce en detail has been found out to supply 
 its peculiar needs. 
 
 Next day brought a letter from Miss Dennis to ask 
 my mistress to take rooms for her in our hotel. Though 
 she was not quite well, it had become so cold that she 
 thought it best to travel while the roads were free from 
 snow. She was, besides, so harassed with the bickerings 
 between Sarah and Bridget, that the latter should leave 
 at once on reaching Nantes. Miss Dennis thought, 
 besides, that she had best be on the spot, as she must 
 hire her own furniture, and engage a cook. 
 
 " So must we," said my master. " What do you say 
 to Biddy fur ourselves, as a kind of help for Mary? 
 
178 MARIE. 
 
 Though she is so crippled, she is full of life and vigour, 
 and worth half a dozen Sarahs. Besides, she knows 
 every inch of the town, and can speak French for 
 Mary." 
 
 On talking it over, the things to be said in favour of 
 my master's plan seemed so many more than could be 
 said against it, that, though I knew Biddy had her faults, 
 and thought it likely she might have more of them than 
 she had, as yet, let me see, I fell into it with a good 
 grace. 
 
 You see, after Tours, where I heard so much English 
 spoken, and sat down to my meals with English servants, 
 and foreign ones, many of whom could speak a little 
 English, my heart quite sank within me to sit down 
 here and talk in dumb show, with scarce a woman to 
 look at. 
 
 Peeping about, 1 found there were three women on 
 the premises, besides the landlady, and a spinster who 
 helped her, and seemed to have the power of scolding in 
 all corners of the house, on all subjects, at one and the 
 same time. Of these three, one had charge of the linen, 
 and had a little room to herself, where she sat all day 
 long darning sheets. Two I could see from my window, 
 as from my window at the Tours hotel I used to see two 
 shrivelled old women exactly like them, and doing the 
 very same work ; that is to say, paring carrots and 
 turnips, and creeping about with saucepans. They were 
 
MARIE. 179 
 
 not nearly so old as they looked, but hard work, poor 
 living, and a hot sun, had dried them up betimes. 
 
 The Giraffe used to call these poor hangers-on of the 
 kitchen " the old 'ags," and laugh at the coloured pocket- 
 handkerchiefs they twisted round their white hair by 
 way of head-dress. They ate in the courtyard, sitting 
 on a bench outside the kitchen, and slept in any corner. 
 
 I used to wander round them sometimes, wishing I 
 could speak to them, and say something friendly ; but , 
 they did not look unhappy, and seemed to relish their 
 meals, which were chiefly of dry bread and raw artichoke 
 leaves, or slices of raw onion steeped in the common 
 white wine, and picked out with the point of a knife. 
 
 Servants in France do not sit down to so many long 
 and regular meals as they do in England. At hotels, 
 where strangers' servants must be fed, there is more form 
 than in private houses. On the other hand, where the 
 hotel servants sleep is a puzzle. u In any corner, and in 
 all corners," they say themselves. Some time in the day, 
 every waiter makes a rush to his hairdresser's to have 
 his hair and beard arranged. That shop is his dressing- 
 room ; thus he makes light of dragging his mattress into 
 any dark closet he may be lucky enough to seize for his 
 own, or of rolling it out on the landing nearest to the 
 entry, so as to be ready to start up when he hears the 
 clatter of the diligence. 
 
 There was now no want of something to do. Furni- 
 
180 MABIE. 
 
 ture was to be chosen and hired, and our rooms were to 
 be made to look a little less cold and scantily furnished 
 than is the case with French rooms in winter. They 
 are all got ready for hot, clear weather and sunshine, 
 as are ours in England for frost, fog, and rain. When a 
 very warm season surprises us, we are overcome with 
 our carpets, and a cold winter abroad with the patch of 
 carpet in the middle of the bright-rubbed floor, just of 
 the size of a quilt, and the street front with as much of 
 windows to wall as we have of wall to windows, cuts to 
 the marrow us poor people, who dream that France 
 knows of nothing but light and warmth. 
 
 Among other errands, we dived into the old part of 
 Nantes, hard by the landing-place of our steamboat, to 
 let Biddy's mother know that she might look for her 
 daughter's return. This Miss Dennis asked us to do, and 
 we did it. She had also asked us to seek some place for 
 Ernest till her brother made up his mind as to whether 
 he should remain in Spain, in which case he should send 
 for Ernest, or come to Nantes and take a house, keeping 
 Ernest as cook and his own servant. Likewise she de- 
 sired us to look out a cook for her, who must be English, 
 if such a person could be found in Nantes. 
 
 " I should have thought she had had enough of Mrs. 
 Lawson's maid," said my mistress ; for the rest of the 
 letter was full of complaints of Sarah, who fancied her- 
 self very ill, and was so helpless that Miss Dennis had 
 
MABIE. 181 
 
 not been able to send Biddy home by herself, as she 
 should have wished. 
 
 My master said " Ernest must find a place for himself, 
 and Miss Dennis a cook for herself. We had sought an 
 apartment for her. He would show her the best shops, 
 take her rooms in our hotel, and meet her at the dili- 
 gence. No more would he do. If she went on like this, 
 she would be worse than the donkey, hams, and cheese." 
 
 Still we did go in search of Biddy's friends. Her 
 mother was out, but we gave our message to the chief 
 person in the house, a monthly nurse, whose sign hung 
 over the door. This was a full-length portrait of herself 
 in her Sunday clothes, carrying a smartly-dressed infant 
 out for its first airing. I thought this droll, but before 
 we had done rambling through the streets, I saw the 
 sign of another of the trade, which depicted her as giving 
 a newly-born baby its first washing. 
 
 My mistress said it was the custom all over France 
 for these nurses to show their calling by signs of this 
 sort. 
 
 The nurse pointed out Biddy's children coming at full 
 speed up the street from the school of the Christian 
 Brothers. They were fine boys, plump and rosy, full of 
 pride at showing us the books they had won as prizes at 
 school. They could not speak many words of English, 
 and wore little blue Houses and wooden shoes. My 
 mistress said, " if they were in Ireland, they might be 
 
182 MARIE. 
 
 taller and have more muscle, but they would be in rags. 
 Here, the talk of the neighbours, the feeling of those 
 about them, quite stopped" all that. However poor 
 clothes might be, in France they must be mended." 
 
 Miss Dennis wrote to fix the day when we should see 
 her. It was too cold for her to break the journey by 
 taking the boat at Angers as we had done. My master 
 got up early on a bitter morning to meet her diligence. 
 It was due at six, and we watched its office in the 
 square till noon before it rolled in with less than its 
 usual spirit, nothing fresh or life-like about it but the 
 new driver and fine horses taken on at the last stage. 
 The guard and passengers w T ere worn out by a night's 
 toiling through the snow. Biddy, the only one inside 
 who seemed to have any good left in her, shrugged and 
 winked at me, glancing at a flabby Sarah crumpled in a 
 corner, and put one by one into my arms Harry and 
 Nora, cross and so tired that they reeled when I set them 
 down. M. Ernest, half-frozen, and wet half-way up to 
 the knees, made a gallant attempt to come down from 
 the banquette in a handsome manner, but was so numb 
 that he missed his footing, and fell on the pavement. 
 However, he quickly rose, throwing us a pleasant smile 
 to show he did not mind it, and in a moment was at 
 work, helping Miss Dennis to look after her boxes, and 
 a Sarah as helpless as the other luggage. They must 
 have had a weary night of it. 
 
MARIE. 183 
 
 After leaving Saumur, they found the road heavy with 
 snow. In some places the diligence fairly stuck in 
 snow-drifts, and all the male passengers had to alight and 
 help to push the wheels ; in others, where there had been 
 a thaw, the highway was one sheet of ice. Horses and 
 men were taken by surprise. The horses were not 
 roughed, and most of the passengers wore those thin 
 and shining boots in which Frenchmen love to pace the 
 pavement. Their great delay was at a hill not far from 
 Angers.. The diligence could make no progress up it, 
 but stood still in a snow-drift till the conducteur, about 
 two o'clock in the morning, made his way to a neigh- 
 bouring farm, and brought back a yoke of oxen lent to 
 help him out of his straits. My mistress took care of 
 her little friend Harry. Miss Dennis saw Nora to bed, 
 and then turned so faint that Biddy and I had to undress 
 her and put her to bed as best we could. She was soon 
 asleep, and then we performed the same office for the 
 wailing Sarah, who took all manner of vows that, if she 
 could but see herself back in her own country, she would 
 never again leave it. Ill as she was and tired, and 
 though she let us do all for her, she found time and 
 strength to take a little spiteful notice of my cap, on 
 which M. Ernest had also found time to compliment me 
 between the diligence office and the door of the hotel. 
 
 " It's her cap she's been setting at him while she had 
 you clear away!" said Biddy, shutting the door upon 
 
184 MARIE. 
 
 her with a clmckle, " and now you've shown your Irish 
 wit and stolen a march upon her with that smart cap of 
 yours. She's cut out, and^she knows it. No more walk- 
 ing about with Ernest here I He said as much to me 
 himself. It did not matter in Tours, but in his own 
 town he could not think of being seen walking with a 
 young woman in a bonnet. He's kept us alive with 
 being ready and willing, and the waiters gave him a 
 good supper at the cook's shop for being a good fellow 
 and helping them in their work, and such a kissing as 
 he got from all of them all round when they said ' good- 
 bye ' to him ; but 1 cannot stop now to tell you any more 
 about us all. Now I've put two of my Saxon inimies to 
 bed, I must go and see my own poor children. My 
 mother paid a letter- writer to let me know that to- 
 morrow there's a widding among our friends. You 
 might come to it yourself, Mary, if you'd like to have 
 your share of the fun. You'd have to bring some little 
 matter of a prisent in your hand, but I'd buy a bargain 
 for ye. I'll go meself to the Place de Bretagne and 
 pick you up a second-hand saucepan or gridiron nate and 
 chape." 
 
 I said that I could not be spared ; we were too busy 
 furnishing our lodgings, and (as my mistress had told 
 me to do) I asked Biddy if it would suit her to engage 
 to help me to cook and clean. Biddy went almost as 
 wild with delight as she had done on that first morning 
 
MARIE. 185 
 
 when I spoke to her at Tours. She seemed so ready 
 and glad to work with me, that I passed over my offence 
 at her supposing I had put on my French cap with a 
 view of pleasing M. Ernest, and distancing the Giraffe. 
 
 Next day, just as I had helped Miss Dennis to dress, 
 and led her, still pale and tired, down to the sitting 
 room, my master called us to the window, which he 
 pulled open that we might go into the balcony and 
 look at a sight in the square below. A wedding party 
 of a score of people, headed by a fiddler who played as 
 he went, was clattering across the middle of the square 
 (no other word would express the noise made by their 
 wooden shoes on the paving stones). The bride and 
 bridegroom followed the fiddler in step with the music. 
 The rest came two and two, young and old, each carry- 
 ing a gift. I saw the gridiron, which might have been 
 my gift, borne aloft by another hand. One waved a 
 sweeping-broom, another flourished a poker, and so on, 
 till you could count up most of the things needed in a 
 very humble kitchen. Biddy, her old mother, and all 
 her children in the best clothes they could muster, 
 closed the rear. Biddy held a white wash -jug, her 
 mother a basin, and the children the other parts of a 
 chamber-service. I leave you to fancy the face of Miss 
 Dennis, when Biddy looked up at me, grinning and 
 brandishing her jng with a kind of triumphant flourish, 
 copied by her children, who held up their own share of 
 
186 MARIE. 
 
 the offerings with smiles of honest pride. My master 
 laughed till the tears rolled down his cheeks. 
 
 " How Irish !" said Miss Dennis. 
 
 "How like Nantes !" replied Mr. Bichards, when he 
 could speak. " I've seen the same thing happen a 
 hundred times. They always come through the most 
 public square, and pretty nearly always carry the same 
 things." 
 
 In spite of real weakness of body, Miss^Dennis was a 
 woman of so much spirit, and so wishful to cut short the 
 expenses of hotel life, that before we, who had had a 
 good start of her, were done, furnishing our apartment, 
 she had moved into the first above ours, and put it into 
 nearly as good order at what she did not fail to tell us 
 was a much less cost. She was also kind enough to 
 explain to us which she found the cheapest shops, and 
 how we might manage better if we had to furnish again. 
 To be sure, her furniture was not so good as ours, but 
 then it passed very well, and had even more show with it. 
 We aimed at comfort and also at pretty good cooking, 
 and it was plain she would save on that latter score. 
 
 My mistress and I laid in all kinds of dainty pans, and 
 such a gem of a stove that I longed to cook a dinner 
 over it with charcoal in the true French style ; but just 
 as our rooms were ready, the sleet-showers of Nantes, to 
 be kept off by no umbrella, gave my mistress such a cold 
 that we were kept two or three days longer in the hotel. 
 
MARIE. 187 
 
 The first day she was laid up, I followed my master 
 when he went down to the table-d'hote breakfast that I 
 might take my mistress up her tray as soon as he had 
 chosen some dish from the table. I waited outside the 
 dining-room, looking into the square to watch what was 
 going on. While standing thus, whom should I see but 
 our old friend, Mr. Lalor, who came riding up to our 
 hotel, followed by a mounted gendarme. As soon as he 
 caught sight of me he kissed his hand and took off his 
 hat, giving it a flourish in the air. This would indeed 
 have been flattering had it just been meant to show the 
 pleasure it gave him to see me once more, but I soon 
 found there was more in it than that. 
 
 Almost before I could hear what he said, he began to 
 shout, "Where's your master, Mary? Do find him 
 quick, my honey, and bring him to stand my bail ! I'm 
 a prisoner on parol, d'ye see ? But ihey don't do things 
 handsomely in this country, for first they take my word 
 of honour, and then they make me pay a mounted police- 
 man to ride along with me, and see that I have not a 
 bit of a chance of breaking it. Mary, my good woman, 
 don't go on talking at such a rate and stopping me. I'll 
 hear ye another time. Where is your master ?" 
 
 Mr. Lalor had heard himself talking fast, and thought 
 it was I. My master, I told him, had just gone to 
 breakfast. 
 
 " Then I'm just thinking I'd better do the same. Let 
 
188 MAMIE. 
 
 me see a stable ! Point me out the way to the stables, 
 my honey ! Call your master out, my dear ! Ask him 
 to step this way for a minute to quiet the scruples of 
 my friend here, who can't let me go out of his sight, 
 I'm so precious in his eyes ! I suppose I can't take him 
 into the breakfast-room, though it would give me the 
 grand air to have him standing at my back, changing 
 the plates. I should be taken for a field-marshal, straight 
 from Paris, with his aide-de-camp behind him. Now, 
 my honey, do ask your master to step this way for one 
 minute only !" 
 
 Before going, however, I would know a little of what 
 was the matter. 
 
 " My honey," said Mr. Lalor, " it's some sort of a trifle 
 of a murder I've been committing up in Paris when I 
 fancied I was asleep in my bed at Pau. You have a 
 kind Irish heart that will lean my way in such a matter, 
 but these French are as priggish about it as if they were 
 English, and it will take my friend Kichards to settle 
 them, so do run and fetch him !" 
 
 I soon brought out my master, who gave Mr. Lalor a 
 hearty shake of the hand before the eyes of the gendarme, 
 who at once seemed to comprehend that his task was at 
 an end. On hearing that breakfast should be ordered 
 for him, he allowed his prisoner to follow my master to 
 the table d'hote. As soon as it was over, the two, attended 
 by the gendarme, went to the English consul, who took 
 
MARIE. 189 
 
 them to the Town Hall. There a statement was drawn 
 up, showing that Mr. Lalor was not the man for whom 
 he had been taken. Papers were likewise prepared to 
 be sent both to Paris and to the head of the police at 
 the town whers he had been anested. After that, Mr. 
 Lalor underwent a long rebuke from the chief of the 
 Nantes police for " the contempt he had shown for the 
 administrative arrangements of the French nation, " in 
 having suffered his passport to be worn away by constant 
 friction in the pocket of his trousers. 
 
 This contempt the chief declared to be truly English. 
 " Yes, M. le Consul, pardon me, if I say so, you English 
 respect the laws of no country but your own." 
 
 The consul pleasantly remarked that he should think 
 u it was the first time in his life that Mr. Lalor had been 
 taken for an Englishman ; that he, Mr. Lalor, came from 
 a country where they held English laws in as little 
 regard as any others." The chief then withdrew the 
 word " English," saying that, if such were the case, he 
 should merely call it " insular " contempt. " M. le Consul 
 would admit that Ireland also was an island, would he 
 not ?" 
 
 This the consul could not deny, so Mr. Lalor stood 
 rebuked for "insular contempt of the laws of a great 
 empire." 
 
 " Dear me," said he, " if I had but known the value 
 of that bit of paper, I'd have had something pasted at 
 
1 ( J0 MARIE. 
 
 the back of it to keep it together. I knew that it took 
 a passport to get me into France, but I did not know it 
 would take one to bring me out again." 
 
 He was cut short by the man in office, who told him 
 that he must now pay the expenses of his gendarme, 
 who must return at once to his own district and duties. 
 This money Mr. Lalor laid down with a protest that " it 
 ought to be charged to the county rates. He should 
 call upon the government to make the county refund it, 
 and pay him damages for false imprisonment besides. 
 He had a cousin married to one of their French counts ; 
 a county magistrate, of course ; he might be a lord lieu- 
 tenant, for aught he knew. He should find him out, and 
 lay the whole case before him." The chief, hearing 
 Mr. Lalor mention the name of his cousin's husband, 
 who was the head of an old Breton house, well known 
 to be against the powers that were, shrugged his shoulders, 
 sneered, and bowed the party out of his office. The 
 consul was thanked, and the gendarme and his prisoner, 
 who had become very friendly on the road over sundry 
 cigars and little glasses of cognac, took a kind leave of 
 each other. Then Mr. Lalor told my mistress what 
 had befallen him, calling for me too to listen, as it was 
 so long since he had heard English spoken, that the 
 more people he set a talking the merrier. 
 
 M When I left you all at Orleans, I rode straight to 
 Pau ; there I found nothing but some letters lying for me 
 
MARIE. 191 
 
 at the post office. One was from that branch of my 
 family which ought to have been at Pau to meet me, as 
 it said it would. Instead of that, it had left a letter 
 stating that, when it reached Pau, it found there was a 
 custom in that town of making you hire lodgings in 
 advance for the whole winter, or of making you put up 
 with very bad ones, or npne at all. So that branch had 
 gone on to Cannes, where it would be most happy to see 
 me and my horse, if we would follow it. When I came 
 to talk this over with a number of pleasant fellows from 
 all countries, whom I met at the table-d'hote, some of 
 them said there was the very same custom of letting 
 lodgings for the whole winter at Cannes and Nice, and 
 they would most likely find all the good houses taken 
 in advance wherever they went along that coast. So/' 
 said I, " I'll ride up to Nantes, where I have friends 
 who can make out their plans better, and spend the 
 winter alongside of them on more level ground, than I 
 find here." 
 
 "Nantes, Nan-tes," said a German (who made it a 
 word of two syllables). "It is a /busy town; I like 
 Nan-tes." 
 
 M I think M. Lai or must mean Nancy," said a sort of 
 countryman of mine, a kind of Irish-French officer, who 
 spoke English pretty well, and had told me that his 
 father had been one of the Irish patriots of '98, the 
 same you call rebels, you know. 
 
192 MARIE. 
 
 44 Nantz, Nantes, or Nancy, it's all the same to rne," 
 said I. 44 I'll call a town by the name it likes best, just 
 as I would do by a lady. Whichever is most agreeable 
 to itself is the name for me. I suppose it is just like 
 the old riddle, ' Elizabeth, Betsy, Bessy, and Bess,' 
 three or four names for one person." 
 
 " My soldier drew me a fine picture of the camp at 
 Nancy, 4 set there to keep in check the Prussian boors.' 
 4 There,' he said, 4 1 should find many exiles, like 
 himself, following the glorious flag of France until they 
 could again enter their own Ireland, 4 free from sea to 
 sea !' 
 
 44 If they are like him, they must be nice young fel- 
 lows, but know mighty little of their fathers' country. 
 Would you believe me, Eichards, he would not believe 
 me when I denied that people in Ireland sometimes 
 ate one another for hunger ? Sir, he said I convinced 
 him, but I know I did not. After that, it was a trifle 
 that he thought we were brought down so low by the 
 English as to be glad to wear the skins of a few wild 
 beasts we killed in hunting. He was quite certain that, 
 if it was not the case in Ireland, it was in Scotland, for 
 he had seen an opera in Paris, in which a chorus of 
 Scotch Highlanders came on the stage clothed in such 
 skins. 
 
 " I talked, till I saw that if I said another word there 
 would be a duel between us, and I thought of my duty 
 
MARIE. 193 
 
 to my horse (who must be left in good hands, with com- 
 petent means, before I attend to any selfish longings of 
 my own to have things out with gentlemen) ; and I 
 withdrew a little, and said 4 it might be so. It had not 
 come under my own notice ; but I bowed to his better 
 information.' He felt he did know better, and it all 
 passed off in a pleasant way. 
 
 " I should wish some young fellows I know in Ireland 
 to try the French for a year, and see if they liked them ! 
 After to-day I feel bound to tell them that they have 
 had a fine time under John Bull, if they did but know 
 it. They think they feel with the French, and the 
 French feel for them, and the French think so too ; but 
 if some of our nice boys came together with the^e 
 French, the mistake on both sides would soon be found 
 out. 
 
 " I know some young fellows who have, what I may 
 oaXl, print on-the-brain. It's a new complaint. They read 
 in the newspapers that they have been wronged before 
 they were born, and ought to feel it. So they go home 
 and try to feel very bad, and they have one sign of it 
 for certain sure — very bad tongues ! 
 
 " Well, I should like to set them by my young soldier 
 from Nancy. His father had just missed being hanged ; 
 but, if his general had told him, he would have ridden 
 up into the middle of a meeting, and brought off O'Con- 
 nell himself, with his green cap like the ancient crown 
 
194 MARIE. 
 
 of Ireland on his head, and dragged him off to prison as 
 6 an enemy of law and order.' He had been brought up to 
 believe that he and the rest of the army came straight 
 down from the skies to keep the law in its seat, the scales 
 on their balance ! 
 
 " At the last, a quiet man, who had not spoken a word 
 all through the dinner, said ' he thought from what I 
 said, it must be Nantes I wished to reach, not Nancy.' 
 He pulled out a pocket-map, and showed me where the 
 two towns lay. Nancy hard by Germany, and Nantes a 
 few hundred miles south of Penzance, if you drew a 
 straight line across the Channel. When I saw the river 
 at Nantes was the same that ran at Orleans, then I knew 
 that was my town, and thanked him for saving me from 
 starting off on a wrong tack. 
 
 " I drew to this man, who knew more than the others 
 about most things. He was in trade, and on his way to 
 Bordeaux, riding like myself. He told me such strange 
 things of the country he should pass through, that I took 
 it into my head to go with him. He seemed very glad 
 of my offer. c A companion was what he should like of 
 all things, for it was not at all pleasant, and (though that 
 might be only fancy) he thought it hardly safe for a 
 man to ride through the Landes alone.' 
 
 " Now, Mrs. Richards and Mary, he did not rob and 
 murder me, as you might expect from this beginning, 
 and it was not him I murdered, for which you, Richards, 
 
MABIE. 195 
 
 bailed me this morning, and I thank you kindly, for 
 letting me see the last of that fellow with the cocked 
 hat. 
 
 " We left Pan (where I had to learn three new words 
 of French, for they feed the horses there on Indian 
 corn, and call it * Mais de Turquie '), and rode on to Dax, 
 and then through great plains of sand, where I saw 
 the people walking on stilts, just as I had read of 
 when I was a little boy. We came upon great planta- 
 tions of cork trees, and large piles of cork in its different 
 stages, from the bark just stripped from the tree, on- 
 wards. 
 
 " We had to put up at such huts as we could light upon, 
 and pick up guides from one point to another. I won- 
 dered whether, if we were lost, the coroner's verdict 
 would be that we perished by exposure on a moor or 
 by smothering in a quicksand. The Landes have some- 
 thing of both, being like a dreary sea-coast, that the 
 sea has not been on for a thousand years, and that has 
 been trying to grow things ever since, without much 
 success. 
 
 " Our poor horses had hard work to struggle through 
 the sand, and man and beast were glad when they got 
 upon the old paved post-road leading to Bordeaux. 
 There, my friend put me in the right way for Nantes, 
 and I bade him good-bye. 
 
 " Nothing happened till I came to a place not far from 
 
196 MARIE. 
 
 here, called Bourbon-Vendee,* a little new town, built 
 all at once by an order from Paris, some forty years ago, 
 and filled with soldiers to keep down a set of as fine 
 fellows as ever you saw. These Vendeans are, by what I 
 can make out, a French kind of Irish patriots. Irish 
 patriots turned the other way, you know ; that is, they 
 are so fond of their king and their laws that they turn 
 out to fight those who want to change them. 
 
 " Well, I rode up a hill in the middle of a moor, and 
 thought that, in all my life, I had never seen a town 
 I should less like to live in. I turned into the court- 
 yard of an inn, put up my horse, and took my seat at the 
 dinner-table with a number of people who had come in 
 by diligence. Just as we began to eat, in came a 
 gendarme, who asked to look at the passports of those 
 who had just arrived. The passengers made a great 
 pulling out of papers ; I went on eating my cabbage- 
 soup. When the gendarme had done with the others, 
 he asked for my passport. I shook my head to show I 
 had not got one. He said ' Hein?' with an uncivil 
 snort, and muttered something which I could not make 
 out ; but I dare say I was no loser by that. If I had un- 
 derstood him, I might have felt myself called upon to 
 kick him, and if there's one thing I've found out in my 
 
 * First called " Napoleon- Vendee," from its founder, and as a 
 hint to the district. Then " Bourbon- Vendee " on the return to 
 kings of the old race. Now, once again, " Napoleon- Vendee." 
 What next ? 
 
MARIE. 197 
 
 French travels, it is that you run a risk if you even 
 smile at an official. I never saw fellows who would 
 stand so little. One can chaff John Bull, you know, 
 and that makes up for much. 
 
 u My gendarme went away for a few minutes, and then 
 came back with another of his tribe. They were fol- 
 lowed by the master of the hotel, who spoke a little 
 English, and told me that, as I could show no papers, I 
 should be bound to go with these gendarmes to the town 
 hall. I took it all easy, and said I should first finish 
 dining. 
 
 " My first gendarme did not refuse me leave to eat my 
 dinner. He drew off to a little table in the corner of 
 the dining-room, saying, ' Monsieur, I wait for you.' 
 
 " His comrade left us, but soon returned with a third 
 of the same clan, who drew out a paper, over which the 
 three put heads together, glancing at me from minute 
 to minute. 
 
 " I made a better dinner than usual, lighted my cigar, 
 and then told them I was ready for a walk. But when 
 I came to the entrance from the street, and found that 
 there was quite a crowd waiting to see me, and that one 
 gendarme fell into place on my right hand, another on 
 my left, while the third was about to walk behind me, 
 I thought all this looked so uncommonly like being 
 taken to prison, that I called upon the landlord to come 
 along with me, and give his help like a Christian soul. 
 
198 MARIE, 
 
 11 1 knew I had French enough to get me out of a 
 French stable, but I was by no means sure it would 
 have the same effect upon a French gaol. 
 
 " The landlord, who was looking at it all from his door- 
 step, did as I asked him, and brought my saddle-bag, in 
 which were letters that I thought would be of use. So 
 off we marched, followed by all the little boys in the 
 street. In that dead-alive town it was a godsend to 
 see a man taken up by the police. I could only hope 
 that what they thought I had done was not unworthy 
 of a gentleman. Perhaps they thought I was Henry the 
 Fifth come to stir up the Vendeans, as his mamma had 
 done before him. In that case I make no complaint. 
 
 " When I reached the town-hall I found the head of 
 the police, whom his men had sent for in a hurry, pacing 
 up and down in great readiness for action. He said, 
 in a solemn but civil way, how very sorry he was 
 that a gentleman of my education should bring himself 
 into a position so much to be regretted. I made him 
 my bow, though I thought this was making a mighty 
 fuss, and using very long words about wearing out an 
 old passport in the pocket of an old pair of hunting- 
 breeches. Then I told him it was done, and could not 
 now be helped, but I would pay anything in reason for 
 a new one, and let me hear no more about it. This 
 made him look fierce. He set to work to scold me for 
 trifling when under a serious charge. It was some time 
 
MARIE. 199 
 
 before I could make head or tail of what he was pleased 
 to call ' the grave affair ;' but, by the help of my land- 
 lord, I did make out that two of our countrymen (I 
 mean mine, Eichards, not yours) had had a row up in 
 Paris, and one of them had stabbed the other, killing 
 him on the spot. The assassin had made off, and what 
 they call a signalement of him had been sent all over 
 the country. With this likeness I was told that my outer 
 man matched beyond all dispute. They handed it to 
 me. It was the same paper that I had seen my gen- 
 darmes reading while I dined. I took such a fit of 
 laughter that I could not look at it steadily for some 
 moments. 
 
 " The head of the police and his tail grew very wrath- 
 ful ; my landlord, who was not in buckram like these 
 Jacks-in-office, grinned too. 
 
 " People in inns take a fairer view of their fellow- 
 creatures than those whose only notion is that they 
 must show their papers or be sent to prison. I saw I 
 must make haste, and pull myself up, so I steadied my- 
 self as well as I could, and looked over the handbill 
 from Paris. 
 
 " It was not a bad account of me, if you were to sup- 
 pose it written by some one who had a wish to run me 
 down. I do not deny that my eyes are blue and my 
 whiskers red ; my cheekbones too may be high, though 
 they would find thousands higher in Scotland and 
 
200 MARIE. 
 
 Ireland, so they need not have laid an unpleasant stress 
 on such a trifle. My nose, they said, was petit. To 
 this I made some demur. 
 
 "Should you call it 'little,' Kichards?" asked Mr. 
 Lalor, stroking his handsome straight nose in a kindly 
 manner. 
 
 " I should say it was between the two extremes. If 
 it had been meant that I should talk through it, or 
 sing through it as the French do through their noses, or 
 blow it, as they do theirs, with a louder noise than that 
 made by any European nation, Mother Nature would 
 of course have given me an instrument of a size and 
 shape suited to such performances. She has not done so, 
 and I do not complain of her omission. I did feel some 
 longing to add to the size of the degenerate Eoman 
 nose of that official who ruled that my nose was small 
 like that in his paper from Paris." 
 
 u ' At least, sir,' said I, ' you'll allow that I'm some 
 inches taller than the fellow I'm taken for ?' 
 
 " As I stand six feet in my stockings, he could not but 
 allow that there some mistake seemed to have been made, 
 but added that, as the rest of the account tallied so well 
 with my looks, that must be treated as a trifle. 
 
 " Then I fell back on my letters, which I made sure 
 would settle the whole matter at once. I had one from 
 my sister, addressed to 'Narcissus Lalor, Esquire, 
 Poste Kestante, Pau, Basses Pyrenees,' and one from 
 
MARIE. 201 
 
 my banker, desiring that Narcissus Lalor should be sup- 
 plied with any money he might require. This letter of 
 credit on all the chief towns of France would, I thought, 
 leave its mark on the thickest skull, and I handed it to 
 the chief of police, telling him that to my mind it was 
 worth half a dozen passports. So the landlord seemed 
 to think also. My official grew a little more civil, but 
 did not let go his hold of me for all that. 
 
 " He said there was no ill feeling against me ; it was 
 not even a matter which concerned the French nation. 
 One Englishman had killed another, why or wherefore 
 was no affair of his ; but he had orders from the central 
 office in Paris which must be carried out. I was to be 
 held as under arrest until I could prove myself not to be 
 the person for whom I had been taken. I found I could 
 make no way with him, so asked if, instead of locking 
 me up, he would let me ride on to Nantes, where 1 had 
 some chance of finding a friend who could take his oath 
 that I was myself and not some one else. There was a 
 mighty pause over this, but at last he agreed to let me 
 go, if I would pay for a gendarme to ride with me, and 
 lodge me in gaol if the proofs that I was myself were 
 not to hand. This the Consul calls treating me better 
 than a Frenchman, without papers, would have a chance 
 of being treated ! 
 
 " Opinions differ on points of this nature. I had no 
 choice; I must pay my keeper, or be locked up till I 
 
202 MARIE. 
 
 could bring you down from Nantes. It was too late to 
 go that night, even if my horse had been fresh, so we 
 put up at the inn. If my gendarme had made a point 
 of sleeping in the same room with me, I should have 
 passed the night by the side of my horse, as I have done 
 times without number ; but I gave him a good supper, 
 and he made his mind easy by sleeping in the passage 
 outside my door. The joke of the inn was to call me 
 Marshal Bugeaud, and him my orderly. 
 
 "As we rode out of Bourbon- Vendee together this 
 morning, I saw a large building a little way out in the 
 country. This I made out to be a lunatic asylum, the 
 first I had seen outside a town since I came to France. 
 It could not be filled for the same reason that they give 
 at Killarney, namely, that ' the beauty of the scenery 
 drives them all mad,' for if I had not seen the Landes I 
 should have said this was the most barren and bleak 
 country I ever saw. Perhaps that and the dullness of 
 the town tell on their minds, and make them need so 
 big a building. My keeper rode by my side, and we 
 got on as best we could. He was not a bad fellow, 
 though I think it is the first time I ever heard of a 
 man having to pay for the guard set over him, and I 
 must say that those gentlemen in Paris, before they 
 indulged themselves in killing each other, might have 
 stopped to reflect on what might be the consequences to 
 an unoffending fellow-countryman ; but this is a selfish 
 
MARIE. 203 
 
 world, and people follow their own amusements with- 
 out thinking of what may be the results." 
 
 For some time Mr. Lalor talked himself warmer every 
 time he spoke of his arrest. He wrote to the Breton 
 Count who had married his cousin, who, in reply, 
 pressed him to pay them a visit, but assured him he had 
 no chance of any redress. After that Mr. Lalor began 
 to dwell upon the satisfaction he might obtain by fight- 
 ing a duel. He balanced for long whether it would do 
 him the most good to challenge the head of police at 
 Bourbon- Vendee, or at Nantes. " One had doubted his 
 word, and the other had sneered when he spoke of his 
 relations in Brittany. Both had lectured him in an 
 offensive manner. Still, he could not but see by the 
 light of reason, and use of his logic, that neither would 
 have done so had one of his unreflecting countrymen 
 not killed another." 
 
 My master made bold to suggest they should arrange 
 a four-cornered duel, after the manner of the three- 
 cornered duel in one of Captain Marryat's novels. 
 
 Mr. Lalor inquired carefully into the arrangement of 
 that famous fight, still, on the whole, he settled that, as 
 he could not have fair play with French officials in their 
 own country, it would be best to send a challenge to the 
 criminal, in case he w^ere not proved on his trial to be 
 unworthy of the notice of a man of honour, and provided 
 the law did not anticipate the vengeance of Mr. Lalor. 
 
204: MABIE. 
 
 By the time we moved into our apartment, Mr. Lalor 
 had found a lodging for himself, and a good stable for 
 his horse, a little way outside the barrier of the octroi, 
 where all things are cheaper than they are within it. 
 He fell into his old regular habits of giving his horse 
 food and exercise at stated hours, and formed new habits 
 of sauntering with my master, for whom he had taken 
 a great liking, about the streets and quays of Nantes. 
 Thus he settled down to pass the rest of the winter in 
 peace, which was only broken by a sort of running fight 
 with the people of the octroi, who were for ever wanting 
 to fine him fifty francs for bringing presents of country 
 produce to us in the town, without first " declaring " them, 
 and paying the tax on them. Till they knew him well, 
 they would make out that he was going to sell them, 
 and he was more and more strengthened in his distaste 
 for French officials. 
 
 I think that Miss Dennis felt she had made a blunder 
 in being in such a hurry to part with Biddy, though she 
 was not a woman who would own her mistakes. She 
 was always changing one Nantes cook for another, and 
 always in a fret at the uselessness and fancied ailments 
 of Sarah. I am bound to say we found her a less 
 meddling neighbour than we had expected, and she 
 looked well after the children, and made them happy and 
 much better behaved. 
 
 Ernest went for a time to help the chief cook at our 
 
MARIE. 205 
 
 late hotel. Biddy and I worked quite as well together 
 as could be looked for, and so we settled down to spend 
 what was to be to me bnt the first of many winters in 
 France, with no greater troubles than the little j airings 
 which could not but occur between ways of living so 
 different as those of the French and our own. 
 
 P.S. — My readers may remember, or guess, that I did 
 marry in the end, and that I married a Frenchman, 
 whose name was Ernest. How this came to pass, and 
 the much greater haps and mishaps of our next year's 
 journey, may be told, should a friendly public desire 
 it, in another little book. 
 
 • Marie, Femme Trevorec 
 {Nee Mary Eyan). 
 
LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS. STAMFORD STREET 
 AND CHARING CROSS. 
 
OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 
 
 14 Very skilfully and pleasantly told, and far better worth read- 
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 for what publishers are pleased to call our amusement/' — Spectator. 
 
 44 The faithfully -told feelings, events, and actions of a real life 
 are to the artificial plot and highly-coloured characters and inci- 
 dents of fiction as wild flowers to garden flowers ; they lack the 
 garden's charms of symmetrical arrangement, brilliance, and variety, 
 yet have their own special attractions as the simple and spontaneous 
 produce of nature. * * * 
 
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 genuine record of the experiences of a real life, is all but proved on 
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 NOV 2 1962 
 
 
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 General Library 
 
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YB 574 
 
 M317571