Shawl-Straps

  III.

  _FRANCE._

  'Girls, I have had a scintillation in the night: listen and approve!'said Amanda, coming into the room where her comrades sat upon the floor,in the first stages of despair, at the impossibility of getting theaccumulated rubbish of three months' travel into a couple of immensetrunks.

  'Blessed girl! you always bring a ray of light just at the darkestmoment,' returned Lavinia, with a sigh of relief, while Matilda lookedover a barricade of sketch-books bristling with paint-brushes, and addedanxiously,--

  'If you _could_ suggest how I am to work this miracle, you will be apublic benefactor.'

  'Behold the amendment I propose,' began Amanda, perching herself on oneof the arks. 'We have decided to travel slowly and comfortably throughFrance to Switzerland, stopping where we like, and staying as long as weplease at any place we fancy, being as free as air, and having all theworld before us where to choose, as it were.'

  'The route you have laid out is a charming one, and I don't see how youcan improve it,' said Lavinia, who, though she was supposed to be thematron, guide, and protector of the younger girls, was in realitynothing but a dummy, used for Mrs. Grundy's sake, and let the girls dojust as they pleased, only claiming the right to groan and moan as muchas she liked when neuralgia, her familiar demon, claimed her for itsown.

  'One improvement remains to be made. Are these trunks a burden, avexation of spirit, a curse?' demanded Amanda, tapping one with hercarefully cherished finger-tips.

  'They are! they are!' groaned the others, regarding the monsters withabhorrence.

  'Then let us get rid of them, and set out with no luggage but a fewnecessaries in a shawl-strap.'

  'We will! we will!' returned the chorus.

  'Shall we burn up our rubbish, or give it away?' asked Lavinia, wholiked energetic measures, and was ready to cast her garments to the fourwinds of heaven, to save herself from the agonies of packing.

  '_I_ shall never give up my pictures, nor my boots!' cried Matilda,gathering her idols to her breast in a promiscuous heap.

  'Be calm and listen,' returned the scintillator. 'Pack away all but themerest necessaries, and we will send the trunk by express to Lyons. Thenwith our travelling-bags and bundles, we can follow at our leisure.'

  ''Tis well! 'tis well!' replied the chorus, and they all returned totheir packing, which was performed in the most characteristic manner.

  Amanda never seemed to have any clothes, yet was always well andappropriately dressed; so it did not take her long to lay a fewgarments, a book or two, a box of Roman-coin lockets, scarabae brooches,and cinque-cento rings, likewise a swell hat and habit, into her vasttrunk; then lock and label it in the most business-like and thoroughmanner.

  Matilda found much difficulty in reconciling paint-pots and silk gowns,blue hats and statuary, French boots and Yankee notions. But order wasat length produced from chaos, and the young lady refreshed her wearysoul by painting large red M's all over the trunk to mark it for herown.

  Miss Lavinia packed and repacked four or five times, forgettingneedfuls, which, of course, were always at the very bottom. At the fifthplunge into the depths her patience gave out, and with a vow to be aslave no longer to her treacherous memory, she tumbled every thing in,performed a solemn jig on the lid till it locked, then pasted large, butillegible placards in every available spot, and rested from her labourswith every nerve in a throbbing condition.

  Shawl-straps of the largest, strongest sort were next procured, and thethree bundles made up with much discussion and merriment.

  Into Amanda's went a volume of Shakspeare of great size and weight, butas indispensable as a tooth-brush to its owner; toilette-articles tiedup in a handkerchief, a few necessary garments, and much paper,--forAmanda was inspired with poetic fire at unexpected moments, also hadfive hundred bosom friends, in answering whose epistolary gushings muchstationery was consumed. A pistol, a massive crust of bread, and an ovalbox containing all the dainty appliances for the culture, preservation,and ornamentation of the finger-nails, made up her store.

  Matilda's bundle consisted of sketch-books, a trifle of haberdashery, acurling-stick that was always tumbling out at inopportune moments, yardsof blue ribbon, and a camp-stool strapped outside in company with aJapanese umbrella, a gift from the stout doctor, destined to be cursedin many languages by the unhappy beings into whose backs, eyes, andstomachs it was poked before its wanderings ended.

  Lavinia confined herself to a choice collection of bottles andpill-boxes, fur boots, a grey cloud, and several French novels,--thesolace of wakeful nights. A scarlet army blanket, with U. S. in bigblack letters on it, enveloped her travelling medicine-chest, and lent acheerful air to the sombre spinster, whose black attire and hoarse voicemade the _sobriquet_ of Raven most appropriate.

  With these imposing bundles in one hand, little pouches slung over theshoulder, plain travelling-suits, subdued hats, and resolute but benigncountenances, our three errant damsels set forth one bright June day, towander through France at their own sweet will. Not a fear assailed them;for all men were civil, all women friendly, and the world wore itssunniest aspect. Not a doubt perplexed them; for the gifted Amanda spokemany tongues, understood all sorts of money, could grapple successfullywith Murray and Bradshaw, and never got into the wrong corporation whenshe traced a route with unerring accuracy through the mysteries of anIndicator. No lord and master, in the shape of brother, spouse, orcourier, ordered their outgoings and incomings; but liberty the mostentire was theirs, and they enjoyed it heartily. Wisely and well too;for, though off the grand route, they behaved themselves in public asdecorously as if the eyes of all prim Boston were upon them, and provedby their triumphant success, that the unprotected might go where theyliked, if they conducted themselves with the courtesy and discretion ofgentlewomen.

  How pleasant were the early sail down the Ranee from Dinan to St. Malo,the comfortable breakfast in the flowery little court of Hotel Franklin,and the stroll afterward about the quaint old town, looking at thechurches, buying fruit, and stoutly resisting the temptations of antiquejewelry displayed in the dingy shops! Lavinia never forgave herself,however, for not securing a remarkable watch, and Amanda sighed monthsafterward for a Breton collar and cross of charming antiquity andugliness.

  Matilda boldly planted her camp-stool, unfurled her umbrella, and,undaunted by the crowd of round-capped, blue-bloused, wooden-shoedchildren about her, began to draw the church.

  'I intend to study architecture, and to sketch _all_ the cathedrals wesee,' said the ardent art-student, struggling manfully with the unrulyumbrella, the unsavoury odours from the gutter, and the garrulous crowdleaning over her shoulder, peering under her hat-brim, and examining allher belongings with a confiding freedom rather embarrassing.

  'Do you know what impertinent things these little scamps are saying toyou?' asked Amanda, pausing in a lecture on surface drainage which shewas delivering to Lavinia, who was vainly struggling to cram a fat winebottle, a cabbage leaf of strawberries, and some remarkable cakes intothe lunch-basket.

  'No: I don't; and that is the advantage of not knowing any language butmy own,' complacently replied Matilda, who considered all study but thatof art as time wasted, and made her small store of French answeradmirably by talking very loud and fast, and saying, '_Oui, oui, oui_,'on all occasions with much gesticulation, and bows and smiles of greatsuavity and sweetness.

  'Clear out this rabble, or come back to the hotel and wait for the bus.We shall have the whole town round us soon, and I can't stand it,' saidAmanda, who had no romantic admiration for the Great Unwashed.

  'You think I can't do it? _Voila!_' and, rising suddenly to anunexpected height, Matilda waved the umbrella like a _baton_, cried'_Allez!_' in a stern voice, and the children fled like chaff before thewind.

  'You see how little is needed, so don't vex me with learning your oldverbs any more!' and Matilda closed her book with an air of calmsatisfaction.

  'Come home and rest. It is so warm here I am fair
ly melted,' prayedLavinia, who had been longing for summer, and of course was not suitedwhen she got it.

  'Now, do remember one thing: don't let us be gregarious. We never knowwho we may pick up if we talk to people; and stray acquaintances are sadbores sometimes. Granny is such a cross old dear she won't say a word toany one if she can help it; but you, Mat, can't be trusted if we meetany one who talks English. So be on your guard, or the peace of thisparty is lost,' said Amanda, impressively.

  'We are not likely to meet any but natives in this wilderness; so don'texcite yourself, Mandy, dear,' replied Matilda, who, being of a socialturn and an attractive presence, was continually making friends, to thegreat annoyance of her more prudent comrades.

  In the flowery courtyard sat the group that one meets everywhere on theContinent,--even in the wilds of Brittany. The father and mother stout,tired, and rather subdued by the newness of things; the son, YoungAmerica personified, loud, important, and inquisitive; the daughter,pretty, affected, and over-dressed; all on the lookout for adventuresand titles, fellow-countrymen to impress, and foreigners eager to getthe better of them.

  Seeing the peril from afar, Amanda buried herself in Murray, to read upthe tomb of Chateaubriand, the tides, population, and any other usefulbit of history; for Amanda was a thrifty soul, and

  'Gathered honey all the day From every opening flower.'

  Lavinia, finding the court damp, shrouded herself in the grey cloud, puther feet on the red bundle, and fortified herself with a Turner's pill.

  But Matilda, guileless girl, roamed to and fro, patted the horses at thegate, picked flowers that no French hand would have dared to touch, andstudied the effect of light and shade on the red head of the _garcon_,who gazed sentimentally at 'the blonde "Mees,"' as he artlessly wateredthe wine for dinner.

  The Americans had their eye upon her, and felt that, though the othersmight be forbidding English women, this one could be made to talk. Sothey pounced upon their prey, to the dismay of her mates, and proceededto ask fifty questions to the minute. Poor Mat, glad to hear the soundof her native tongue, fell into the snare, and grew more confiding everymoment.

  'She is telling the family history,' whispered Lavinia, in a tone ofdespair.

  'Now they are asking where we came from,' added Amanda, casting down herbook in agony.

  'Wink at her,' sighed Lavinia.

  'Call to her,' groaned Amanda, as they heard their treasured secretbetrayed, and the enemy clamouring for further information about thischarming trip.

  'Matilda, bring me my shawl,' commanded the Dowager.

  'Come and see if you don't think we had better go direct to Tours,' saidthe wary Amanda, hoping to put the enemy off the track.

  The victim came, and vials of wrath were poured upon her head in oneunceasing flow till the omnibus started, and the ladies were appeased byfinding that the enemy did not follow.

  'Promise that you won't talk to any but natives, or I decline to leadthis expedition,' said Amanda firmly.

  'I promise,' returned Mat, with penitent meekness.

  'Now we've got her!' croaked the Raven; 'for she will have to learnFrench or hold her tongue.'

  'The language of the eye remains to me, and I am a proficient in that,ma'am,' said Mat, roused by these efforts to deny her the right of freespeech.

  'You are welcome to it, dear;' and Amanda departed to buy tickets anddespatch the trunks, with secret misgivings that they would never befound again.

  'Now we are fairly started, with no more weighing of luggage, fussingover checks, or packing of traps to afflict us. What a heavenly sense offreedom it gives one, to have nothing but an independent shawl-strap!'said Matilda, as they settled themselves in a vacant car, and stowedaway the bundles.

  What a jolly day that was, to be sure! Whether it was the air, the goodcoffee, or the liberty, certain it is that three merrier maids nevertravelled from St. Malo to Le Mans on a summer's day. Even the Ravenforgot her woes, and became so exhilarated that she smashed her bromidebottle out of the window, declaring herself cured, and tried to sing'Hail Columbia,' in a voice like an asthmatic bagpipe.

  Mat amused herself and her comrades by picking up the different articlesthat kept tumbling down on her head from her badly built bundle; whileAmanda scintillated to such an extent that the others laughed themselvesinto hysterics, and lay exhausted, prone upon the seats.

  They ate, drank, sung, gossiped, slept, read, and revelled, till anotherpassenger got in, when propriety clothed them as with a garment, andthe mirthful damsels became three studious statues.

  The new-comer was a little priest; so rosy and young that they calledhim the 'Reverend Boy.' He seemed rather dismayed at first; but, findingthe ladies silent and demure, he took heart, and read diligently in adingy little prayer-book, stealing shy glances now and then from underhis broad-brimmed hat at Amanda's white hands, or Matilda's yellowlocks, as if these vanities of the flesh had not quite lost their charmsfor him. By and by he fell asleep, and leaned in his corner, makingquite a pretty picture; for the ugly hat was off, his boyish face asplacid as a child's, his buckled shoes and neat black-stockinged legsstretched comfortably out, his plump hands folded over the dingy book,and the little bands lay peacefully on his breast.

  He was quite at their mercy now; so the three women looked as much asthey liked, wondering if the poor dear boy was satisfied with the lifehe had chosen, and getting tenderly pitiful over the losses he mightlearn to regret when it was too late. His dreams seemed to be pleasantones, however; for once he laughed a blithe, boyish laugh, good to hear;and when he woke, he rubbed his blue eyes and stared about, smiling likea newly roused baby.

  He got out all too soon, was joined by several other clerical youths,and disappeared with much touching of big beavers, and wafting ofcassocks.

  Innocent, reverend little boy! I wonder what became of him, and hope hissleep is as quiet now as then,--his awakening as happy as it seemed thatsummer day.

  Six o'clock saw our damsels at Le Mans; and, after dinner, a sunsetwalk took them to the grand old cathedral, where they wandered tillmoonrise. Pure Gothic of the twelfth century, rich in stained glass,carved screens, tombs of kings and queens, dim little chapels, wheredevout souls told their beads before shadowy pictures of saints andmartyrs, while over all the wonderful arches seemed to soar, one abovethe other, light and graceful as the natural curves of droopingbranches, or the rise and fall of some great fountain.

  'We shall not see anything finer than this, I'm sure. It's a perfectrevelation to me,' said Matilda, in a calm rapture at the beauty allabout her.

  'This is a pious-feeling church, and I could say my prayers here withall my soul; for it seems as if the religion of centuries had got builtinto it,' added Lavinia, thinking of the ugly imitations at home.

  'You will both turn Catholic before we get through,' prophesied Amanda,retiring to study the tomb of Berengaria, Coeur de Lion's wife.

  The square before the hotel was gay with a market, many soldierslounging about, and flocks of people eating ices before the _cafes_. Theladies enjoyed it from the balcony, and then slumbered peacefully in agreat room with three alcoves, much muslin drapery, and a bowl andpitcher like a good-sized cup and saucer.

  Another look at the cathedral in the early morning, and then away toTours, which place they found a big, clean, handsome city, all astir forthe _Fete-Dieu_.

  'We will stay over Sunday and see it,' was the general vote as the trioheaded for the great church, and, catching sight of it, they subsidedinto a seat by the fountain opposite, and sat looking silently at themagnificent pile.

  How strangely impressive and eloquent it was! The evening red touchedits grey towers with a mellow light, like sunshine on a venerable head.Lower down, flights of rooks circled round the fretted niches, quaintwindows, and grotesque gargoyles, while the great steps below swarmedwith priests and soldiers, gay strangers and black-robed nuns, childrenand beggars.

  For an hour our pilgrims sat and studied the wonderful _facade_
, orwalked round the outside, examining the rich carvings that covered everyinch of the walls. Twilight fell before they had thought of entering,and feeling that they had seen enough for that night, they wentthoughtfully home to dream of solemn shadows and saintly faces, for thecathedral haunted them still.

  Next day was spent in viewing Charlemagne's Tower, and seeing the grandprocession in honour of the day. The streets were hung with garlands,gay tapestries and banners, strewn with fresh boughs, and lined withpeople in festival array. As the procession passed, women ran out andscattered rose-leaves before it, and one young mother set her bloomingbaby on a heap of greenery in the middle of the street, leaving itthere, that the Holy Ghost under its canopy might pass over it. A prettysight, the rosy little creature smiling in the sunshine as it satplaying with its own blue shoes, while the golden pageant went by; thechanting priests stepping carefully, and looking down with suddenbenignity in their tired faces as the holy shadow fell on the brighthead, making baby blessed, and saved for ever in its pious mother'seyes.

  A great band played finely, scarlet soldiers followed, then the bannersof patron saints were borne by children. Saint Agnes and her lamb led atroop of pretty little girls carrying tall white lilies, filling the airwith their sweetness. Mary, Our Mother, was followed by many orphanswith black ribbons crossed over the young hearts that had lost so much.Saint Martin led the charity boys in purple suits of just the colour ofthe mantle he was dividing with the beggar on the banner. A pleasantemblem of the charitable cloak that covers so many.

  Priests in full splendour paced solemnly along with censers swinging,candles flickering, sweet-voiced boys singing, and hundreds kneeling asthey passed. Most impressive figures, unless one caught a glimpse ofsomething comically human to disturb the effect of the heavenly pageant.Lavinia had an eye for the ludicrous and though she dropped a tear overthe orphans, and with difficulty resisted a strong desire to catch andkiss the pretty baby, she scandalized her neighbours by laughingoutright the next minute. A particularly portly, pious-looking priest,who was marching with superb dignity, and chanting like a devoutbumble-bee, suddenly mislaid his temper, and injured the effect byboxing a charity boy's ears with his gilded missal, and then capped theclimax by taking a pinch of snuff with a sonorous satisfaction thatconvulsed the heretic.

  The afternoon was spent in the church, wandering to and fro, each aloneto study and enjoy in her own way. Matilda lost her head entirely, andhad silent raptures over the old pictures. Amanda said her prayers,looked up her dates, and imparted her facts in a proper and decorousmanner, while Lavinia went up and down, finding for herself littlepictures not painted by hands, and reading histories more interesting toher than those of saints and martyrs.

  In one dim chapel, with a single candle lighting up the divine sorrow ofthe Mater Dolorosa, knelt a woman in deep black, weeping and praying allalone. In another flowery nook dedicated to the Infant Jesus, a peasantgirl was telling her beads over the baby asleep in her lap; her sunburntface refined and beautiful by the tenderness of mother-love. In a thirdchapel a pale, wasted old man sat propped in a chair, while his rosy oldwife prayed heartily to St. Gratien, the patron saint of the church, forthe recovery of her John Anderson. And most striking of all was a dark,handsome young man, well-dressed and elegant, who was waiting at thedoor of a confessional with some great trouble in his face, as hemuttered and crossed himself, while his haggard eyes were fixed on thebenignant figure of St. Francis, as if asking himself if it werepossible for him also to put away the pleasant sins and follies of theworld, and lead a life like that which embalms the memory of that goodman.

  'If we don't go away to-morrow we never shall, for this church willbewitch us, and make it impossible to leave,' said Amanda, when atlength they tore themselves away.

  'I give up trying to sketch cathedrals. It can't be done, and seemsimpious to try,' said Matilda, quite exhausted by something deeper thanpleasure.

  'I think the "Reminiscences of a Rook" would make a capital story. Theyare long-lived birds, and could tell tales of the past that wouldentirely eclipse our modern rubbish,' said Lavinia, taking a last lookat the solemn towers, and the shadowy birds that had haunted them forages.

  The ladies agreed to be off early in the morning, that they might reachAmboise in time for the eleven o'clock breakfast. Amanda was to pay thebill, and to make certain enquiries at the office; Mat to fly out and doa trifle of shopping; while Lavinia packed up the bundles and mountedguard over them. They separated, but in half-an-hour all met again, notin their room according to agreement, but before the cathedral, whichall had decided not to revisit on any account.

  Matilda was there first, and as each of the others came stealing roundthe corner, she greeted them with a laugh, in which all joined after thefirst surprise was over.

  'I told you it would bewitch us,' said Amanda; and then all took afarewell look, which lasted so long that they had to rush back to thehotel in most unseemly haste.

  'Now to fresh _chateaux_ and churches new,' sang Lavinia, as they rolledaway on the fourth stage of their summer journey. A very short stage itwas, and soon they were in an entirely new scene, for Amboise was alittle, old-time village on the banks of the Loire, looking as if it hadbeen asleep for a hundred years. The Lion d'Or was a quaint place, solike the inns described in French novels, that one kept expecting to seesome of Dumas' heroes come dashing up, all boots, plumes, and pistols,with a love-letter for some court beauty in the castle on the hillbeyond.

  Queer galleries and stairs led up outside the house to the rooms above.The _salle-a-manger_ was across a court, and every dish came from akitchen round the corner. The _garcon_, a beaming, ubiquitous creature,trotted perpetually, diving down steps, darting into dark corners, orskipping up ladders, producing needfuls from most unexpected places. Thebread came from the stable, soup from the cellar, coffee out of ameal-chest, and napkins from the housetop, apparently, for Adolphe wentup among the weather-cocks to get them.

  'No one knows us, no one can speak a word of English, and if we happento die here it will never be known. How romantic and nice it is!'exclaimed Mat, in good spirits, for the people treated the ladies as ifthey were duchesses in disguise, and the young women liked it.

  'I'm not so sure that the romance is all it looks. We should be in asweet quandary if anything happened to our sheet-anchor here. Justremember, in any danger, save Amanda first, then she will save us. Butif she is lost, all is lost,' replied Lavinia, darkly, for she alwaystook tragical views of life when her bones ached.

  Up the hill they went after breakfast; and balm was found for the oldlady's woes in the sight of many Angora cats, of great size and beauty.White as snow, with tails like plumes, and mild, yellow eyes, were thesecharmers. At every window sat one; on every door-step sprawled a bunchof down; and frequently the eye of the tabby-loving spinster wasgladdened by the touching spectacle of a blonde mamma in the bosom ofher young family.

  'If I could only carry it, I'd have one of those dears, no matter whatit cost!' cried Lavinia, more captivated by a live cat than by all thedead Huguenots that Catherine de Medicis hung over the castle walls ona certain memorable occasion.

  'Well, you can't, so come on and improve your mind with some good,useful history,' said Amanda, leading them forward. 'You _must_ rememberthat Charles VII. was born here in 1470--that Anne of Brittany marriedhim for her first husband, and that he bumped his head against a lowdoor in the garden here above, as he was running through to play bowlswith his Anne, and it killed him.'

  'Which? the bump or the bowls?' asked Mat, who liked to have thingsclearly stated.

  'Don't be frivolous, child. Here Margaret of Anjou and her son werereconciled to Warwick. Abd-el Kader and his family were kept prisonershere, and in the garden is a tomb with a crescent on it; likewise a"pleached walk," and a winding drive inside the great tower, up whichlords and ladies used to ride straight into the hall,' continued thesage Amanda, who yearned to enlighten the darkness of her carelessfriends.

  A b
risk old woman did the honours of the castle, showing them mouldychapels, sepulchral halls, rickety stairs, grubby cells, and pitch-darkpassages, till even the romantic Matilda was glad to see the light ofday, and repose in the pleasant gardens while removing the cobwebs fromher countenance and the dust from her raiment.

  A lovely view gladdened their eyes as they stood on the balcony whencethe amiable Catherine surveyed the walls hung thick, and the riverchoked up with the dead. Below, the broad Loire rolled slowly by betweenits green banks. Little boys, in the costume of Cupid, were riding greathorses in to bathe after the day's work. The grey roofs of the townnestled to the hillside, and far away stretched the summer landscape,full of vague suggestions of new scenes and pleasures to the pilgrims.

  'We start for Chenonceaux at seven in the morning; so, ladies, I begthat you will be ready punctually,' was the command issued by Amanda, asthey went to their rooms, after a festive dinner of what Lavinia called'earth-worms and cacti,' not being fond of stewed brains, baked eels, orthistles and pigweed chopped up in oil.

  Such a droll night as the wanderers spent! No locks on the doors and nobells. Stairs leading straight up the gallery from the courtyard, cartsgoing and coming, soft footsteps stealing up and down, whispers thatsounded suspicious (though they were only orders to kill chickens andpick salad for the morrow), and a ghostly whistle that disturbedLavinia so much, she at last draped herself in the green coverlet, andwent boldly forth upon the balcony to see what it meant.

  She intended to demand silence in French that would strike terror to thesoul of the bravest native. But when she saw that poor, dear,hard-worked _garcon_ blacking boots by the light of the moon, her heartmelted with pity; and, resolving to give him an extra fee, she silentlyretired to her stone-floored bower, and fell asleep in a stuffy littlebed, whose orange curtains filled her dreams with volcanic eruptions andconflagrations of the most lurid description.

  At seven, an open carriage with a stout pair of horses and a sleepydriver rolled out of the court-yard of the Lion d'Or. Within it satthree ladies, who gazed at one another with cheerful countenances, andsurveyed the world with an air of bland content, beautiful to behold.

  'I am fairly faint with happiness,' sighed Matilda, as they drovethrough fields scarlet with poppies, starred with daisies, or yellowwith buttercups, while birds piped gaily, and trees wore their earlygreen.

  'You did not eat any breakfast. That accounts for it. Have a crust, do,'said Amanda, who seldom stirred without a good, sweet crust or two; forthey were easy to carry, wholesome to chew, and always ready at amoment's notice.

  'Let us save our "entusymusy" till we get to the _chateau_, and enjoythis lovely drive in a peaceful manner,' said Lavinia, still a littlesleepy after her adventures in the glimpses of the moon.

  So, for an hour or two, they rolled along the smooth road, luxuriatingin the summer sights and sounds about them; the wayside cottages, withwomen working in the gardens; villages clustered round some tiny,picturesque church; windmills whirling on the distant hill-tops;vineyards full of peasants tying up the young vines, or trudging by withbaskets on their backs, heaped with green cuttings for the goats athome. Old men, breaking stone by the roadside, touched their red caps tothe pilgrims, jolly boys shouted at them from the cherry trees, andlittle children peeped from behind the rose-bushes blooming everywhere.

  Soon, glimpses of the winding Cher began to appear, then an avenue ofstately trees, and then, standing directly in the river, rose the lovely_chateau_ built for Diane de Poictiers by her royal lover. Leaving thecarriage at the lodge, our sight-seers crossed the moat, and, led by awooden-faced girl with a lisp, entered the famous pleasure-house, whichits present owner (a pensive man in black velvet, who played fitfully ona French-horn in a pepper-pot tower) is carefully restoring to itsformer splendour.

  The great picture-gallery was the chief attraction; and beginning withDiane herself--a tall, simpering baggage, with a bow, hounds, crescent,and a blue sash for drapery--they were led through a rapid review of allsorts of worthies and unworthies, relics and rubbish, without end.Portraits are always interesting. Even Lavinia, who 'had no soul forArt,' as Mat said, looked with real pleasure at a bass-relief of Agnesof Sorel, and pictures of Montaigne, Rabelais, Ninon d'Enclos, Madame deSevigne, and miniatures of La Fayette and Ben Franklin. The lattergentleman looked rather out of place in such society; but, perhaps, hisgood old face preached the Dianes and Ninons a silent sermon. His plainsuit certainly was a relief to the eye, wearied with periwigged sagesand bejewelled sinners.

  Here was the little theatre where Rousseau's plays were acted. Here werethe gilded chairs in which kings had sat, swords heroes had held, booksphilosophers had pored over, mirrors that had reflected famous beauties,and painted walls that had looked down on royal revels long ago.

  The old kitchen had a fireplace big enough for a dozen cooks to havespoiled gallons of broth in, queer pots and pans, and a handy littlewindow, out of which they could fish at any moment, for the river ranbelow.

  The chapel, chambers, balconies, and terraces were all being repaired;for, thanks to George Sand's grandmother, who owned the place in thetime of the Revolution, it was spared out of respect to her, and isstill a charming relic of the past.

  The ladies went down the mossy steps, leading from the gallery to thefurther shore, and, lying under the oaks, whiled away the noon-time byre-peopling the spot with the shapes that used to inhabit it. A veryhappy hour it was, dreaming there by the little river, with the scent ofnew-mown hay in the fresh wind, and before them the airy towers andgables of the old _chateau_ rising from the stream like a vision ofdeparted splendour, love, and romance.

  Having seen every thing, and bought photographs _ad libitum_ of thewooden-faced lisper, who cheated awfully, the pilgrims drove away,satiated with relics, royalty, and '_regardez_.'

  Another night in the stony-hearted, orange-coloured rooms, with thesleepless _garcon_ sweeping and murmuring outside like a Banshee, whilethe hens roosted sociably in the gallery, the horses seemed to bechamping directly under the bed, and the dead Huguenots bumping downupon the roof from the castle-walls. Another curious meal wafted fromthe bowels of the earth and cooled by all the airs that blow,--then theshawl-straps were girded anew, the carriage (a half-grown omnibus withthe jaundice) mounted, the farewell bows and adieux received, and forthrumbled the duchesses _en route_ for Blois.

  'My heart is rent at leaving that lovely _chateau_,' said Mat, as theycrossed the bridge.

  'I mourn the earth-worms, the cacti, and the tireless "gossoon,"' addedAmanda, who appreciated French cookery and had enjoyed confidences withAdolphe.

  'The cats, the cats, the cats! I could die happy if I had one,'murmured Lavinia; and with these laments they left the town behind them.

  Any thing hotter than Blois, with its half dried-up river, dustyboulevards, and baked streets, can hardly be imagined. But theseindomitable women 'did' the church and the castle without flinching. Theformer was pronounced a failure, but the latter was entirelysatisfactory. The Emperor was having it restored in the most splendidmanner. The interior seemed rather fresh and gay when contrasted withthe time-worn exterior, but the stamped leathern hangings, tiled floors,emblazoned beams, and carved fireplaces were quite correct. Dragons andcrowns, porcupines and salamanders, monograms and flowers, shoneeverywhere in a maze of scarlet and gold, brown and silver, purple andwhite.

  Here the historical Amanda revelled, and quenched the meek old guidewith a burst of information which caused him to stare humbly at 'the madEnglish.'

  '_Regardez_, my dears, the chamber and oratory of Catherine de Medicis,who here plotted the death of the Duc de Guise. This is the cabinet ofher son, Henri III., where he gave the daggers to the gentlemen who wereto rid him of his enemy, the hero of the barricades. This is the Salledes Gardes, where Guise was leaning on the chimney-piece when summonedto the king. This is the little room at the entrance of which he was setupon in the act of lifting the drapery, and stabbed with forty wounds.'

/>   'Oh! how horrid!' gasped Matilda, staring about as if she saw thesanguinary gentlemen approaching.

  'So interesting! Do go on!' cried Lavinia, who was fond of woe, andenjoyed horrors.

  'This is the hall where the body lay for two hours, covered with a cloakand a cross of straw on the breast,' cut in Amanda, as the guide openedhis mouth. 'Here the king came to look upon the corpse of the oncemighty Henri le Balafre, and spurned it with his foot, saying, I shallnot translate it for you, Mat,--"_Je ne le croyais pas aussi grand_" andthen ordered it to be burnt, and the ashes cast into the river. Rememberthe date, I implore you, December 23, 1588.'

  As Amanda paused for breath the little man took the word, and rattledoff a jumble of facts and fictions about the window from which Marie deMedicis lowered herself when imprisoned here by her dutiful son, LouisXIII.

  'I wish the entire lot had been tossed out after her, for I do thinkkings and queens are a set of rascals,' cried Mat, scandalized by theroyal iniquities to which she had been listening, till the hair stooderect upon her innocent head.

  The Salle des Etats was being prepared for the trial of the men who hadlately attempted the Emperor's life, and a most theatrical display ofjustice was to be presented to the public. The richly carved stair-case,with Francis the First's salamanders squirming up and down it, was arelic worth seeing; but the parched pilgrims found the little pots ofclotted cream quite as interesting, and much more refreshing, when theywere served up at lunch (the pots, not the pilgrims), each covered witha fresh vine-leaf, and delicately flavoured with butter-cups andclover.

  Amanda won the favour of the stately _garcon_ by praising them warmly,and he kept bringing in fresh relays, and urging her to eat a third, afourth, with a persuasive dignity hard to resist.

  'But yes, Mademoiselle, one more, for nowhere else can _creme de St.Gervais_ be achieved. They are desired, ardently desired, in Paris; but,alas! it is impossible to convey them so far, such is their exquisitedelicacy.'

  How many the appreciative ladies consumed, the muse saith not; but thesusceptible heart of the great _garcon_ was deeply touched, and it waswith difficulty that they finally escaped from his attentions.

  On being presented with a cast-off camp-stool, and a pair of old bootsto dispose of, he instantly appropriated them as graceful souvenirs,and clasping his hands, declared with effusion that he would seat hisinfant upon the so-useful stool, and offer the charming boots to Madamemy wife, who would weep for joy at this touching _tableau_.

  With this melodramatic valedictory, he suffered the guests to depart,and the last they saw of him, he was still waving a dirty napkin as hestood at the gate, big, bland, and devoted to the end, though the dropsstood thick upon his manly brow, and the sun glared fiercely on hisuncovered head.

  'I shall write an article on _garcons_ when I get home,' said Lavinia,who was always planning great works and never executing them. 'We haveknown such a nice variety, and all have been so good to us that we owethem a tribute. You remember the dear, tow-headed one at Morlaix, whoinsisted on handing us dishes of snails, and papers of pins with whichto pick out the repulsive delicacy?'

  'Yes, and the gloomy one with black linen sleeves who glowered at us,sighed gustily in our ears, and anointed us with gravy as he waited attable,' added Amanda.

  'Don't forget the dark one with languid, Spanish eyes and curly hair, onthe boat going down the Rance. How picturesque and polite he was, to besure, as he kept picking up our beer-bottles when they rolled about thedeck!' put in Mat, who had the dark youth safely in her sketch-book,with eyes as big and black as blots.

  'The solemn one at Tours, who squirted seltzer-water out of window atthe beggars, without a smile, was very funny. So was the little one withgrubby hands, who tottered under the big dishes, but insisted oncarrying the heaviest.'

  'The fast-trotter at Amboise won my heart, he was so supernaturallylively, and so full of hurried amiability. A very dear _garcon_ indeed.'

  'Be sure you remember the superb being at Brest, whose eyes threatenedto fall out of his head at exciting moments. Also, Flabot's chubby boywho adored Mat, and languished at her, over the onions, like a Cupid ina blue blouse.'

  'I will do justice to everyone,' and Lavinia took copious notes on thespot.

  Orleans was a prim, tidy town, and after taking a look at the finestatue of the Maid, and laughing at some funny little soldiers drummingwildly in the _Place_, our travellers went on to Bourges.

  'This, now, is a nice, dingy old place, and we will take our walksabroad directly, for it looks like rain, and we must make the most ofour time and money,' said Amanda;

  'For, though on pleasure she was bent, She had a frugal mind.'

  Forth they went, as soon as dinner was over, and found the waters allabroad also; for every man was playing away with a hose, every womanscrubbing her door-steps, and the children gaily playing leap-frog inthe puddles.

  'Nasty, damp place!' croaked the Raven, obscuring her disgustedcountenance behind the inevitable grey cloud, and gathering her garmentsabout her, as they hopped painfully over the wet stones, for sidewalksthere were none.

  'I find it refreshing after the dust and heat. Please detach Mat fromthat shop window, and come on, or we shall see nothing before dark,'replied the ever amiable Amanda.

  Matilda _would_ glue herself to every jeweller's window, and remainfascinated by the richness there displayed, till led away by force. Onthis occasion, however, her mania led to good results; for, at the ninthwindow, as her keepers were about to drag her away, a ring of peculiarantiquity caught their eyes simultaneously, and, to Mat's amazement,both plunged into the little shop, clamouring to see it. A pale emerald,surrounded by diamond chippings set in silver, with a wide gold band cutin a leafy pattern, composed this gem of price.

  'A Francis First ring, sold by a noble but impoverished family, and onlya hundred francs, Madame,' said the man, politely anxious to cheat thefair foreigners out of four times its value.

  'Can't afford it,' and Lavinia retired. But the shrewd Amanda, withinimitable shrugs and pensive sighs, regretted that it was so costly. 'Asweet ring; but, alas! forty francs is all I have to give.'

  The man was desolated to think that eighty francs was the lowest he waspermitted to receive. Would Madame call again, and perhaps it might bearranged?

  Ah, no! Madame is forced to depart early, to return no more.

  _Mon Dieu!_ how afflicting! In that case, sixty would be possible for sorare a relic.

  Madame is _abime_, but it is not to be. Forty is the utmost; therefore_Merci_, and _Bonjour_.

  'Hold! Where shall it be sent?' cries the man, giving in, but notconfessing it, with awkward frankness.

  A thousand thanks! Madame will pay for it at once; and laying down themoney, she sweetly bows herself away, with the ring upon her finger.

  'What a people!' ejaculated Lavinia, who always felt like a fly in acobweb when she attempted to deal with the French, in her blunt,confiding way.

  'It is great fun,' answered Amanda, flashing her ring with satisfactionafter the skirmish. 'Will Madame kindly direct me to the house ofJacques Coeur?' she added, addressing an old woman clattering by in_sabots_.

  'Allez toujours a droit en vous appuyant sur la gauche,' replied thenative, beaming and bowing till the streamers of her cap waved in thewind.

  They followed these directions, but failed to find the place, andapplied to another old woman eating soup on her door-step.

  'Suivez le chemin droit en tombant a gauche' was the reply, with a waveof the spoon to all the points of the compass.

  'Great heavens, what a language!' cried Lavinia, who had been vainlyendeavouring to 'support' herself, as she 'fell' in every direction overand into the full gutters.

  The house was found at last, an ancient, mysterious place, with a verycurious window, carved to look as if the shutters were half open, andfrom behind one peeped a man's head, from the other a woman's, both solife-like that it quite startled the strangers. Murray informed theobserv
ers that these servants are supposed to be looking anxiously fortheir master's return, Jacques having suddenly disappeared, afterlending much money to the king, who took that mediaeval way of paying hisdebts.

  Service was being held in the church, and the ladies went in to restand listen, for the music was fine. Much red and white drapery gave thesanctuary the appearance of a gay drawing-room, and the profane Laviniacompared the officiating clergy to a set of red furniture. The biggestpriest was the sofa, four deacons the arm-chairs, and three little boysthe foot-stools, all upholstered in crimson silk, and neatly coveredwith lace tidies.

  As if to rebuke her frivolity, a lovely fresh voice from the hiddenchoir suddenly soared up like a lark, singing so wonderfully that agreat stillness fell on the listeners, and while it lasted the tawdrychurch and its mummery were quite forgotten, as the ear led the heart upthat ladder of sweet sounds to heaven. Even when the others joined in,one could still hear that child-voice soaring and singing far above therest, as if some little angel were playing with the echoes among thearches of the roof.

  A proud native informed the strangers that it was a poor boy whoseexquisite voice was the pride of the town, and would in time make hisfortune. As the choir-boys came racing down stairs after service,pulling off their dingy robes as they ran, Lavinia tried to pick out thelittle angel, but gave it up in despair, for a more uninteresting set ofbullet-headed, copper-coloured sprigs she never saw.

  Rain drove the wanderers back to the hotel, and there they made a nightof it. Ordering a fire in the largest of the three stuffy little cellswhich they occupied, they set about being comfortable, for it had turnedchilly, and a furious wind disported itself in and out throughnumberless crevices. Lavinia was inspired to mull some wine, and breweda mild jorum that cheered, but did not inebriate. Amanda produced herShakspeare, and read aloud while the simmering and sipping went on.Matilda sketched the noble commander as she lay upon the sofa, with herEgyptian profile in fine relief, and her aristocratic red slippersgracefully visible. A large grey cat of a social turn joined the party,and added much to the domesticity of the scene by sitting on the hearthin a cosy bunch and purring blissfully.

  'Now it is your turn to propose something for the general amusement,Mandy,' said Mat, when the beakers were drained dry and the Montaguesand Capulets comfortably buried.

  'Let us attend to the culture of our nails,' replied Amanda, producingher _polissoir_, powder, and knife.

  Three cups of tepid water were produced, and the company sat eagerlysoaking their finger tips for a time, after which much pruning andpolishing went on, to the great bewilderment of Puss, who poked her ownpaws into the cups, as if trying to test the advantages of thisremarkable American custom.

  'What _would_ our blessed mother say if she saw us now?' said Mat,proudly examining ten pointed pink nails at the tips of her longfingers.

  'People told us we should get demoralised if we came abroad, and this isthe first step on the downward road,' returned Lavinia, shaking her headover her own backslidings.

  'No: it's the second step. We ate calves' brains for dinner, and whatI'm sure were frogs' legs with mushrooms. You know we vowed we wouldn'ttouch their horrid messes, but I really begin to like them,' confessedMat, who had pronounced every dish at dinner 'De-licious!'

  'Ha! I will write a poem!' cried Amanda, and leaping from the sofa shegrasped her pen, flung open her portfolio, and in a few brief momentsproduced these inspired stanzas.

  THE DOWNWARD ROAD.

  Two Yankee maids of simple mien, And earnest, high endeavour, Come sailing to the land of France, To escape the winter weather. When first they reached that vicious shore They scorned the native ways, Refused to eat the native grub, Or ride in native shays. 'Oh, for the puddings of our home! Oh, for some simple food! These horrid, greasy, unknown things, How can you think them good?' Thus to Amanda did they say, An uncomplaining maid, Who ate in peace and answered not Until one day they said-- How _can_ you eat this garbage vile Against all nature's laws? How _can_ you eat your nails in points, Until they look like claws?' Then patiently Amanda said, 'My loves, just wait a while, The time will come you will not think The nails or victuals vile.' A month has passed, and now we see That prophecy fulfilled; The ardour of those carping maids Is most completely chilled. Matilda was the first to fall, Lured by the dark gossoon, In awful dishes one by one She dipped her timid spoon. She promised for one little week To let her nails grow long, But added in a saving clause She thought it very wrong. Thus did she take the fatal plunge, Did compromise with sin, Then all was lost; from that day forth French ways were sure to win. Lavinia followed in her train, And ran the self-same road, Ate sweet-bread first, then chopped-up brains, Eels, mushrooms, pickled toad. She cries, 'How flat the home _cuisine_ After this luscious food! Puddings and brutal joints of meat, That once we fancied good!' And now in all their leisure hours One resource never fails, Morning and noon and night they sit And polish up their nails. Then if in one short fatal month A change like this appears, Oh, what will be the next result When they have stayed for years?

  Tremendous applause greeted this masterly effort, and other poems wereproduced with the rapidity of genius by Amanda and Lavinia, each writingthe alternate verse, _a la_ Beaumont and Fletcher, which gave a peculiarcharm to these effusions.

  When Matilda was called upon for a festive suggestion, she promptlyreplied, with a graceful yawn:--

  'Let's go to bed.'

  The meeting, therefore, broke up, and the younger ladies retired totheir cells in good order. But the Raven, excited by the jocund hour,continued to rustle and patter about the warm room in a state ofinexpressible hilarity, most exasperating to the others, who desired tosleep. Not content with upsetting the fire-irons occasionally, singingto the cat, and slamming the furniture about, this restless bird keptappearing first at one cell door with a conundrum, then at the otherwith a joke, or insisted on telling funny stories in her den, till theexhausted victims implored her to take an opium pill and subside beforethey became furious. She obeyed, and after a few relapses into wanderingand joking, finally slumbered.

  Then occurred the one thrilling adventure of this happy journey. In thedarkest hour before dawn Mat awoke, heard a suspicious noise in themiddle room, and asked if Lavinia was on the rampage again. No reply,and, listening, a low, rasping, rustling sound was heard.

  'Thieves, of course. Our watches and purses are on the table, andLavinia has probably forgotten to lock the door. I must attend to this.'And up rose the dauntless Matilda, who feared neither man nor ghost.

  Grasping her dagger, hitherto used as a paper cutter, but always eagerto be steeped in the gore of brigands, robbers, or beasts of prey, shecrept to the door and peeped in. The pale glow of the fire showed her adark figure crouching in the opposite door-way. The click of a pistolcaught her ear, but dodging quickly, the heroic girl cried sternly fromthe shelter of Lavinia's bed-curtain,--

  'Come out, or I'll fire!'

  'Mio Dio! is it only you?' answered a familiar voice, as Amanda,shrouded in a waterproof, sprang up and lit a match.

  'What are you prowling about for?' demanded Mat.

  'To blow your brains out, apparently,' answered Mandy, lowering herarms. 'Why are you abroad?'

  'To stab you, I fancy,' and Mat sheathed her dagger balked of its prey.

  'I heard a noise.'

  'So did I.'

  'Let's see what it is,' and lighting a candle, the fair Amazons lookedboldly about the shadowy room.

  Lavinia lay wrapt in slumber, with only the end of her sarcastic nosevisible beyond the misty cloud that enveloped her venerable countenance.The outer door was fast, and the shutters closed. No booted feetappeared below the curtains, no living eyes rolled awfully in thepor
trait of the salmon-coloured saint upon the wall. Yet the rustlingand rasping went on, and with one impulse the defenders of sleepinginnocence made for the table in the corner.

  There was the midnight robber at his fell work!--the big cat peacefullygnawing the cold chicken, and knocking about the treasured crustsdragged from the luncheon-basket carefully packed for an early start.

  'Wake and behold the ruin your pet has made!'

  'We might be murdered or carried off a dozen times over without herknowing it. Here's a nice duenna!'

  And the indignant ladies shook, pinched, and shouted till the haplesssleeper opened one eye, and wrathfully demanded what the matter was.

  They told her with eloquent brevity, but instead of praising theirprowess, and thanking them with fervour, the ungrateful woman shut hereye again, merely saying with drowsy irascibility,--

  'You told me to go to sleep, and I went; next time fight it out amongyourselves, but don't wake me.'

  'Throw the cat out of window and go to bed, Mat,' and Amanda uncockedher pistol with the resignation of one who had learned not to expectgratitude in this world.

  'Touch a hair of that dear creature and I'll raise the house!' criedLavinia, roused at once.

  Puss, who had viewed the fray sitting bolt upright on the table, nowsettled the vexed question by skipping into Lavinia's arms, feeling withthe instinct of her race that her surest refuge was there. Mat retiredin silent disgust, and the Raven fell asleep soothed by the gratefulpurring of her furry friend.

  'Last night's experiences have given me a longing for adventures,' saidMat, as they journeyed on next morning.

  'I've had quite enough of that sort,' growled Lavinia.

  'Let us read our papers, and wait for time to send us something in theway of a lark,' and Amanda obscured herself in a grove of dampnewspapers.

  Lavinia also took one and read bits aloud to Mat, who was mending hergloves, bright yellow, four-buttoned, and very dirty.

  'Translate as you go along--I do so hate that gabble,' begged Mat, whowould _not_ improve her mind.

  So Lavinia gave her a free translation which convulsed Amanda behind herpaper. Coming to this passage, 'Plusieurs faits graves sont arrives,'the reader rendered it, 'Several made graves have arrived,' adding,'Dear me, what singular customs the French have, to be sure!' A littlefarther on she read, 'Un portrait de feu Monsieur mon pere,' adding, 'Afire portrait means a poker sketch, I suppose.'

  Here a smothered giggle from Amanda caused the old lady to say 'Blessyou!' thinking the dear girl had sneezed.

  'I must have some blue cotton to mend my dress with. Remind me to getsome at Moulins. By the way, how do you ask for it in French?' said Mat,surveying a rent in her skirts.

  'Oh, just go in and say, "Avez-vous le fils bleu?"' replied Lavinia,with a superior air.

  'A blue son! My precious granny, what will you say next?' murmuredAmanda, faint with suppressed laughter.

  'What are you muttering about?' asked Granny, sharply.

  'Trying to recall those fine lines in "Wilhelm Meister;" don't youremember? "Wer nie sein Brod mit Thraenen ass,"' replied Amanda, politeeven at the last gasp.

  'I read my Goethe in decent English, and don't know anything abouttraining asses,' returned Lavinia, severely.

  That was too much! Amanda cast her paper down, and had her laugh out, asthe only means of saving herself from suffocation. The others gazed uponher in blank amazement, till she found breath enough to enlighten them,when such peals of merriment arose, that the guard popped his head in tosee if he had not unwittingly shipped a load of lunatics.

  'That was splendid! But now we must sober down, for a gorgeous being isabout to get in,' said Amanda, as they stopped at a station.

  The gorgeous being entered, and found three demure ladies rapt innewspapers. They apparently saw nothing but the words before them; yetevery one of them knew that the handsome young man had bowed in the mostsuperior manner; also, that he was dressed in brown velvet, longgaiters, buttoned to the knee, a ravishing blue tie, buff gloves, andpouch and powder-horn slung over his shoulder. Also, that a servant withtwo dogs and a gun had touched his hat and said, 'Oui, monsieur lecomte,' as he shut the door.

  A slight thrill pervaded the statues as this fact was made known, andeach began to wonder how the elegant aristocrat would behave. To saythat he stared, feebly expresses the fixity of his noble gaze, as itrested in turn upon the three faces opposite. When satisfied, he alsoproduced a paper and began to read. But Matilda caught a big, black eyepeering over the sheet more than once, as she peered over the top of herown.

  'I don't like him. Remember, we don't speak French,' whispered thediscreet Amanda.

  'I can swear that I don't,' said Lavinia, with an irrepressible smile,as she remembered the 'blue son.'

  'The language of the eye is not forbidden me, and I can't sit bakingunder a newspaper all the way,' returned Matilda, whose blond curls hadevidently met with the great creature's approval.

  A slight pucker about the Comte's lips caused a thrill of horror topervade the ladies, as Amanda murmured under her breath,--

  'He may understand English!'

  'Then we are lost!' returned the tragic Raven.

  'Wish he did. I really pine for a little attention. It gives such arelish to life,' said Matilda, thinking regretfully of the devotedbeings left behind.

  The prudent Amanda and the stern Lavinia steeled their hearts, and icedtheir countenances to the comely gentleman. But the social Matilda couldnot refrain from responding to his polite advances, with a modest'Merci, Monsieur,' as he drew the curtain for her, a smile when hepicked up the unruly curling-stick, and her best bow as he offered hispaper with a soft glance of the black eyes.

  In vain Amanda tried to appal her with awful frowns; in vain Laviniatrod warningly upon her foot: she paid no heed, and left them no hopebut the saving remembrance that she couldn't talk French.

  'If the man don't get out soon, I'll tie her up in my shawl, and tellhim she is mad,' resolved Lavinia, whose spinster soul was alwaysscandalised at the faintest approach to a flirtation.

  'If the man does speak English, Mat will have it all her own way,'thought Amanda, remembering the vow imposed upon the reckless girl.

  Alas, alas for the anxious twain! The man did _not_ get out soon, theman _did_ speak English, and in ten minutes Matilda was off, like a coltwithout a halter. The anguish of her keepers added zest to the fun, andfinding that the gentleman evidently thought her the lady of the party(owing to the yellow gloves, smartest hat, and irreproachable boots),and the others in sober gray and black, were maid and duenna, thisreprehensible girl kept up the joke, put on airs, and enjoyed thatflirtatious hour to her heart's content.

  As if to punish the others for their distrust, and to reward Mat'sinterest in him, M. le Comte devoted himself to Mademoiselle, tellingher about his hunting, his estate, and finished by inviting her and herparty to call and view his _chateau_, if they ever paused at the town,which had the honour of being his summer residence. Mat responded to allthese courtesies with confiding sweetness, and when at length he wasdesolated at being obliged to tear himself away, she

  'Gave sigh for sigh,'

  as he retired with a superb bow, a gallant 'Bon voyage, mesdames,' and awicked twinkle of the black eyes as they rested on the faces of thefrozen ladies.

  'I got rather the best of the joke in that little affair: didn't I?'said Mat, gayly, as the brown velvet Adonis vanished.

  'You are a disgrace to your party and your nation,' sternly respondedAmanda.

  Lavinia spoke not, but shook her little sister till the hat flew off herhead, and she had only breath enough left to declare with unquenchedardour that she would do it again the very next chance she got.

  Lectures, laughter, and longings for 'my Comte' beguiled the remainderof the way, and _Moulang_ (as Mat pronounced Moulins) was reached aftera pleasant trip through a green country, picturesque with the whitecattle of Berri. There was not much to see, but the town was s
o quaintand quiet, that Amanda was seized with one of her remarkable projects.

  'Let us find a little house somewhere and stay a week or two. I fainwould rest and ruminate among the white cows for a while; have a littlewashing done, and slowly prepare to emerge into the world again. Lyonsis our next point, and there we must bid adieu to freedom andshawl-straps.'

  'Very well, dear,' responded Lavinia, with resignation, having learnedthat the best way to curb these aberrations of genius was to give in,and let circumstances prove their impracticability.

  So Amanda inquired of the landlady if such a rustic cot could be found.Whereupon the dingy little woman clasped her dingy little hands, anddeclared that she had exactly the charming retreat desired. Truly yes,and she would at once make her toilette, order out the carriage, anddisplay this lovely villa to the dear ladies.

  With many misgivings the three squeezed themselves into a squareclothes-basket on wheels, drawn by an immense, bony, white horse, drivenby a striped boy, and adorned by Madame, in a towering bonnet, ladenwith amazing fruit, flowers, and vegetables. Lavinia counted threetomatoes, a bunch of grapes, poppies and pansies, wheat ears andblackberry-vines, a red, red rose, and one small lettuce, with glassdewdrops and green grubs lavishly sprinkled over it. A truly superb_chapeau_ and a memorable one.

  Away they trundled through stony streets, dusty roads, waste grounds,marshy meadows, and tumbled-down pleasure-gardens, till theclothes-basket turned down a lane, and the bony horse stopped at lengthbefore a door in a high red wall.

  'Behold!' cried madame, leading them with much clanking of keys, into acabbage-garden. A small tool-house stood among the garden-stuff, withbrick floors, very dirty windows, and the atmosphere of a tomb. Bags ofseed, wheel-barrows, onions, and dust cumbered the ground. Empty bottlesstood on the old table, cigar ends lay thick upon the hearth, and atrifle of gay crockery adorned the mantel-piece.

  'See, then, here is a _salon_, so cool, so calm. Above is a room withbeds, and around the garden where the ladies can sit all day. A maid canachieve the breakfast here, and my carriage can come for them to dine atthe hotel. Is it not charmingly arranged?

  'It is simply awful,' said Mat, aghast at the prospect.

  'Settle it as you like, dear, only I'm afraid I couldn't stay _very_long on account of the dampness,' observed Lavinia, cheerfully, as sheput a hoe-handle under her feet and wiped the blue mould from athree-legged chair.

  'It won't do, so I'll tell her you are an invalid and very particular,'said Amanda, with another inspiration, as she led the landlady forth tobreak the blow tenderly.

  'My neuralgia is useful if it isn't ornamental; and what a comfort thatis!' said Lavinia, as she lightly threw a large cockroach out of window,dodged a wasp, and crushed a fat spider.

  And so it was in many ways. If the party wanted a car to themselves,Granny was ordered to lie down and groan dismally, which caused othertravellers to shun the poor invalid. If rooms did not suit, sufferingMadame _must_ have sun or perish. Late lunches, easy carriages, extrablankets, every sort of comfort was for her, whether she wanted them ornot.

  'Shall I be sick or well?' was always the first question when aninvitation came, for 'my sister's delicate health' was the standingexcuse when parties palled, or best gowns were not get-at-able.

  While Amanda conferred with the hostess among the cabbages, Matdiscovered that the picturesque white cattle in the field close by wereextremely fierce and unsocial; that there was no house in sight, and thevenerable horse and shay would never sustain many trips to and fro todinner at the hotel. Lavinia poked about the house, and soon satisfiedherself that it abounded in every species of what Fanny Kemble calls'entomological inconvenience,' and an atmosphere admirably calculated tointroduce cholera to the inhabitants of Moulins.

  'It is all settled; let us return,' said Amanda, appearing at last withan air of triumph, having appeased the old lady by eating greencurrants, and admiring an earwiggy arbour, commanding a fine view of amarsh where frogs were piping and cool mists rising as the sun set.

  The chickens were tough at dinner, the wine bitter, the bread sour, butno one reproached Amanda as the cause of this change. And when thehostess bowed them out, next day, without a smile, they drove away,conscious only of deep gratitude that they were saved from leaving theirbones to moulder among the cabbages of Moulins.

  'Now we return to civilisation, good clothes, and Christian food,' saidLavinia, as they surveyed their fine rooms at the Grand Hotel, Lyons.

  'Likewise letters and luggage,' added Amanda, as the maid brought in abundle of letters, and two porters came bumping up with the trunks.

  'Well, I've enjoyed the trip immensely, though nothing very remarkablehas happened,' said Mat, diving into her private ark with satisfaction.

  'I should like to wander in the wilderness for years, if I could hearfrom my family at intervals,' said Lavinia, briskly breaking open theplump, travel-worn letters.

  'Then you consider our trip a success?' asked Amanda, pausing in the actof removing the dust from her noble countenance.

  'A perfect success! We have done what we planned, had no mishaps, seenand enjoyed much, quarrelled not at all, laughed a great deal, and beenaltogether festive, thanks to you. I shall hang my shawl-strap on thecastle wall as a trophy of the prowess of my Amanda, and the success ofthe last Declaration of American Independence,' replied Lavinia.

  'I, also,' said Mat, opening her bundle for the one hundreth and lasttime.

  'You do me proud; I humbly thank you,' and with a superb curtsy thecommander-in-chief modestly retired behind the towel.