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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10813 ***
+
+A VERSAILLES CHRISTMAS-TIDE
+
+By
+
+Mary Stuart Boyd
+
+With Fifty-three Illustrations by A.S. Boyd
+
+1901
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+     I. The Unexpected Happens
+    II. Ogams
+   III. The Town
+    IV. Our Arbre de Noël
+     V. Le Jour de l'Année
+    VI. Ice-bound
+   VII. The Haunted Château
+  VIII. Marie Antoinette
+    IX. The Prisoners Released
+
+
+
+
+
+Illustrations
+
+The Summons
+Storm Warning
+Treasure Trove
+The Red Cross in the Window
+Enter M. le Docteur
+Perpetual Motion
+Ursa Major
+Meal Considerations
+The Two Colonels
+The Young and Brave
+Malcontent
+The Aristocrat
+Papa, Mama, et Bébé
+Juvenile Progress
+Automoblesse oblige
+Sable Garb
+A Football Team
+Mistress and Maid
+Sage and Onions
+Marketing
+Private Boxes
+A Foraging Party
+A Thriving Merchant
+Chestnuts in the Avenue
+The Tree Vendor
+The Tree Bearer
+Rosine
+Alms and the Lady
+Adoration
+Thankfulness
+One of the Devout
+De l'eau Chaude
+The Mill
+The Presbytery
+To the Place of Rest
+While the Frost Holds
+The Postman's Wrap
+A Lapful of Warmth
+The Daily Round
+Three Babes and a Bonne
+Snow in the Park
+A Veteran of the Château
+Un, Deux, Trois
+Bedchamber of Louis XIV
+Marie Leczinska
+Madame Adelaide
+Louis Quatorze
+Where the Queen Played
+Marie Antoinette
+The Secret Stair
+Madame sans Tête
+Illumination
+L'Envoi
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS
+
+
+[Illustration: The Summons]
+
+No project could have been less foreseen than was ours of wintering in
+France, though it must be confessed that for several months our thoughts
+had constantly strayed across the Channel. For the Boy was at school at
+Versailles, banished there by our desire to fulfil a parental duty.
+
+The time of separation had dragged tardily past, until one foggy
+December morning we awoke to the glad consciousness that that very
+evening the Boy would be with us again. Across the breakfast-table we
+kept saying to each other, "It seems scarcely possible that the Boy is
+really coming home to-night," but all the while we hugged the assurance
+that it was.
+
+The Boy is an ordinary snub-nosed, shock-headed urchin of thirteen, with
+no special claim to distinction save the negative one of being an only
+child. Yet without his cheerful presence our home seemed empty and dull.
+Any attempts at merry-making failed to restore its life. Now all was
+agog for his return. The house was in its most festive trim. Christmas
+presents were hidden securely away. There was rejoicing downstairs as
+well as up: the larder shelves were stored with seasonable fare, and
+every bit of copper and brass sparkled a welcome. Even the kitchen cat
+sported a ribbon, and had a specially energetic purr ready.
+
+Into the midst of our happy preparations the bad news fell with
+bomb-like suddenness. The messenger who brought the telegram whistled
+shrilly and shuffled a breakdown on the doorstep while he waited to hear
+if there was an answer.
+
+"He is ill. He can't come. Scarlet fever," one of us said in an odd,
+flat voice.
+
+"Scarlet fever. At school. Oh! when can we go to him? When is there a
+boat?" cried the other.
+
+There was no question of expediency. The Boy lay sick in a foreign land,
+so we went to him. It was full noon when the news came, and nightfall
+saw us dashing through the murk of a wild mid-December night towards
+Dover pier, feeling that only the express speed of the mail train was
+quick enough for us to breathe in.
+
+But even the most apprehensive of journeys may hold its humours. Just at
+the moment of starting anxious friends assisted a young lady into our
+carriage. "She was going to Marseilles. Would we kindly see that she got
+on all right?" We were only going as far as Paris direct. "Well, then,
+as far as Paris. It would be a great favour." So from Charing Cross to
+the Gare du Nord, Placidia, as we christened her, became our care.
+
+She was a large, handsome girl of about three-and-twenty. What was her
+reason for journeying unattended to Cairo we know not. Whether she ever
+reached her destination we are still in doubt, for a more complacently
+incapable damsel never went a-voyaging. The Saracen maiden who followed
+her English lover from the Holy Land by crying "London" and "À Becket"
+was scarce so impotent as Placidia; for any information the Saracen
+maiden had she retained, while Placidia naively admitted that she had
+already forgotten by which line of steamers her passage through the
+Mediterranean had been taken.
+
+Placidia had an irrational way of losing her possessions. While yet on
+her way to the London railway station she had lost her tam-o'-shanter.
+So perforce, she travelled in a large picture-hat which, although pretty
+and becoming, was hardly suitable headgear for channel-crossing in
+mid-winter.
+
+[Illustration: Storm Warning]
+
+It was a wild night; wet, with a rising north-west gale. Tarpaulined
+porters swung themselves on to the carriage-steps as we drew up at Dover
+pier, and warned us not to leave the train, as, owing to the storm, the
+Calais boat would be an hour late in getting alongside.
+
+The Ostend packet, lying beside the quay in full sight of the
+travellers, lurched giddily at her moorings. The fourth occupant of our
+compartment, a sallow man with yellow whiskers, turned green with
+apprehension. Not so Placidia. From amongst her chaotic hand-baggage she
+extracted walnuts and mandarin oranges, and began eating with an
+appetite that was a direct challenge to the Channel. Bravery or
+foolhardiness could go no farther.
+
+Providence tempers the wind to the parents who are shorn of their lamb.
+The tumult of waters left us scatheless, but poor Placidia early paid
+the penalty of her rashness. She "thought" she was a good sailor--though
+she acknowledged that this was her first sea-trip--and elected to remain
+on deck. But before the harbour lights had faded behind us a sympathetic
+mariner supported her limp form--the feathers of her incongruous hat
+drooping in unison with their owner--down the swaying cabin staircase
+and deposited her on a couch.
+
+"Oh! I do wish I hadn't eaten that fruit," she groaned when I offered
+her smelling-salts. "But then, you know, I was so hungry!"
+
+In the _train rapide_ a little later, Placidia, when arranging her wraps
+for the night journey, chanced, among the medley of her belongings, upon
+a missing boat-ticket whose absence at the proper time had threatened
+complications. She burst into good-humoured laughter at the discovery.
+"Why, here's the ticket that man made all the fuss about. I really
+thought he wasn't going to let me land till I found it. Now, I do wonder
+how it got among my rugs?"
+
+We seemed to be awake all night, staring with wide, unseeing eyes out
+into the darkness. Yet the chill before dawn found us blinking sleepily
+at a blue-bloused porter who, throwing open the carriage door, curtly
+announced that we were in Paris.
+
+Then followed a fruitless search for Placidia's luggage, a hunt which
+was closed by Placidia recovering her registration ticket (with a
+fragment of candy adhering to it) from one of the multifarious pockets
+of her ulster, and finding that the luggage had been registered on to
+Marseilles. "Will they charge duty on tobacco?" she inquired blandly, as
+she watched the Customs examination of our things. "I've such a lot of
+cigars in my boxes."
+
+There was an Old-Man-of-the-Sea-like tenacity in Placidia's smiling
+impuissance. She did not know one syllable of French. A new-born babe
+could not have revealed itself more utterly incompetent. I verily
+believe that, despite our haste, we would have ended by escorting
+Placidia across Paris, and ensconcing her in the Marseilles train, had
+not Providence intervened in the person of a kindly disposed polyglot
+traveller. So, leaving Placidia standing the picture of complacent
+fatuosity in the midst of a group consisting of this new champion and
+three porters, we sneaked away.
+
+[Illustration: Treasure Trove]
+
+Grey dawn was breaking as we drove towards St. Lazare Station, and the
+daily life of the city was well begun. Lights were twinkling in the dark
+interiors of the shops. Through the mysterious atmosphere figures loomed
+mistily, then vanished into the gloom. But we got no more than a vague
+impression of our surroundings. Throughout the interminable length of
+drive across the city, and the subsequent slow train journey, our
+thoughts were ever in advance.
+
+The tardy winter daylight had scarcely come before we were jolting in a
+_fiacre_ over the stony streets of Versailles. In the gutters, crones
+were eagerly rummaging among the dust heaps that awaited removal. In
+France no degradation attaches to open economies. Housewives on their
+way to fetch Gargantuan loaves or tiny bottles of milk for the matutinal
+_café-au-lait_ cast searching glances as they passed, to see if among
+the rubbish something of use to them might not be lurking. And at one
+alluring mound an old gentleman of absurdly respectable exterior
+perfunctorily turned over the scraps with the point of his cane.
+
+We had heard of a hotel, and the first thing we saw of it we liked. That
+was a pair of sabots on the mat at the foot of the staircase. Pausing
+only to remove the dust of travel, we set off to visit our son, walking
+with timorous haste along the grand old avenue where the school was
+situated. A little casement window to the left of the wide entrance-door
+showed a red cross. We looked at it silently, wondering.
+
+[Illustration: The Red Cross in the Window]
+
+In response to our ring the portal opened mysteriously at touch of the
+unseen concierge, and we entered. A conference with Monsieur le
+Directeur, kindly, voluble, tactfully complimentary regarding our
+halting French, followed. The interview over, we crossed the courtyard
+our hearts beating quickly. At the top of a little flight of worn stone
+steps was the door of the school hospital, and under the ivy-twined
+trellis stood a sweet-faced Franciscan Soeur, waiting to welcome us.
+
+[Illustration: Enter M. Le Docteur]
+
+Passing through a tiny outer room--an odd combination of dispensary,
+kitchen, and drawing-room with a red-tiled floor--we reached the
+sick-chamber, and saw the Boy. A young compatriot, also a victim of the
+disease, occupied another bed, but for the first moments we were
+oblivious of his presence. Raising his fever-flushed face from the
+pillows, the Boy eagerly stretched out his burning hands.
+
+"I heard your voices," his hoarse voice murmured contentedly, "and I
+knew _you_ couldn't be ghosts." Poor child! in the semidarkness of the
+lonely night-hours phantom voices had haunted him. We of the morning
+were real.
+
+The good Soeur buzzed a mild frenzy of "Il ne faut pas toucher" about
+our ears, but, all unheeding, we clasped the hot hands and crooned over
+him. After the dreary months of separation, love overruled wisdom. Mere
+prudence was not strong enough to keep us apart.
+
+Chief amongst the chaos of thoughts that had assailed us on the
+reception of the bad news, was the necessity of engaging an English
+medical man. But at the first sight of the French doctor, as, clad in a
+long overall of white cotton, he entered the sick-room, our insular
+prejudice vanished, ousted by complete confidence; a confidence that our
+future experience of his professional skill and personal kindliness only
+strengthened.
+
+It was with sore hearts that, the prescribed _cinq minutes_ ended, we
+descended the little outside stair. Still, we had seen the Boy; and
+though we could not nurse him, we were not forbidden to visit him. So we
+were thankful too.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+OGAMS
+
+
+[Illustration: Perpetual Motion]
+
+Our hotel was distinctively French, and immensely comfortable, in that
+it had gleaned, and still retained, the creature comforts of a century
+or two. Thus it combined the luxuries of hot-air radiators and electric
+light with the enchantment of open wood fires. Viewed externally, the
+building presented that airy aspect almost universal in Versailles
+architecture. It was white-tinted, with many windows shuttered without
+and heavily lace-draped within.
+
+A wide entrance led to the inner courtyard, where orange trees in green
+tubs, and trelliswork with shrivelled stems and leaves still adhering,
+suggested that it would be a pleasant summer lounge. Our hotel boasted a
+_grand salon_, which opened from the courtyard. It was an elaborately
+ornate room; but on a chilly December day even a plethora of
+embellishment cannot be trusted to raise by a single degree the
+temperature of the apartment it adorns, and the soul turns from a cold
+hearth, however radiant its garnish of artificial blossoms. A private
+parlour was scarcely necessary, for, with most French bedrooms, ours
+shared the composite nature of the accommodation known in a certain
+class of advertisement as "bed-sitting-room." So it was that during
+these winter days we made ourselves at home in our chamber.
+
+The shape of the room was a geometrical problem. The three windows each
+revealed different views, and the remainder of the walls curved
+amazingly. At first sight the furniture consisted mainly of draperies
+and looking-glass; for the room, though of ordinary dimensions, owned
+three large mirrors and nine pairs of curtains. A stately bed, endowed
+with a huge square down pillow, which served as quilt, stood in a
+corner. Two armchairs in brocaded velvet and a centre table were
+additions to the customary articles. A handsome timepiece and a
+quartette of begilt candelabra decked the white marble mantelpiece, and
+were duplicated in the large pier glass. The floor was of well-polished
+wood, a strip of bright-hued carpet before the bed, a second before the
+washstand, its only coverings. Need I say that the provision for
+ablutions was one basin and a liliputian ewer, and that there was not a
+fixed bath in the establishment?
+
+It was a resting-place full of incongruities; but apart from, or perhaps
+because of, its oddities it had a cosy attractiveness. From the moment
+of our entrance we felt at home. I think the logs that purred and
+crackled on the hearth had much to do with its air of welcome. There is
+a sense of companionship about a wood fire that more enduring coal
+lacks. Like a delicate child, the very care it demands nurtures your
+affection. There was something delightfully foreign and picturesque to
+our town ideas in the heap of logs that Karl carried up in a great
+_panier_ and piled at the side of the hearth. Even the little faggots of
+kindling wood, willow-knotted and with the dry copper-tinted leaves
+still clinging to the twigs, had a rustic charm.
+
+These were pleasant moments when, ascending from the chill outer air, we
+found our chamber aglow with ruddy firelight that glinted in the mirrors
+and sparkled on the shining surface of the polished floor; when we drew
+our chairs up to the hearth, and, scorning the electric light, revelled
+in the beauty of the leaping and darting flames.
+
+It was only in the _salle-à-manger_ that we saw the other occupants of
+the hotel; and when we learned that several of them had lived _en
+pension_ under the roof of the assiduous proprietor for periods varying
+from five to seven years, we felt ephemeral, mere creatures of a moment,
+and wholly unworthy of regard.
+
+[Illustration: Ursa Major]
+
+At eight o'clock Karl brought the _petit déjeûner_ of coffee and rolls
+to our room. At eleven, our morning visit to the school hospital over,
+we breakfasted in the _salle-à-manger_, a large bright room, one or
+other of whose many south windows had almost daily, even in the depth of
+winter, to be shaded against the rays of the sun. Three chandeliers of
+glittering crystal starred with electric lights depended from the
+ceiling. Half a dozen small tables stood down each side; four larger
+ones occupied the centre of the floor, and were reserved for transient
+custom.
+
+The first thing that struck us as peculiar was that every table save
+ours was laid for a single person, with a half bottle of wine, red or
+white, placed ready, in accordance with the known preference of the
+expected guest. We soon gathered that several of the regular customers
+lodged outside and, according to the French fashion, visited the hotel
+for meals only. After the early days of keen anxiety regarding our
+invalid had passed, we began to study our fellow guests individually and
+to note their idiosyncrasies. Sitting at our allotted table during the
+progress of the leisurely meals, we used to watch as one _habitué_ after
+another entered, and, hanging coat and hat upon certain pegs, sat
+silently down in his accustomed place, with an unvarying air of calm
+deliberation.
+
+Then Iorson, the swift-footed _garçon_, would skim over the polished
+boards to the newcomer, and, tendering the menu, would wait, pencil in
+hand, until the guest, after careful contemplation, selected his five
+_plats_ from its comprehensive list.
+
+[Illustration: Meal Considerations]
+
+The most picturesque man of the company had white moustaches of
+surprising length. On cold days he appeared enveloped in a fur coat, a
+garment of shaggy brown which, in conjunction with his hirsute
+countenance, made his aspect suggest the hero in pantomime renderings of
+"Beauty and the Beast." But in our hotel there was no Beauty, unless
+indeed it were Yvette, and Yvette could hardly be termed beautiful.
+
+Yvette also lived outside. She did not come to _déjeûner_, but every
+night precisely at a quarter-past seven the farther door would open, and
+Yvette, her face expressing disgust with the world and all the things
+thereof, would enter.
+
+Yvette was blonde, with neat little features, a pale complexion, and
+tiny hands that were always ringless. She rang the changes on half a
+dozen handsome cloaks of different degrees of warmth. To an intelligent
+observer their wear might have served as a thermometer. Yvette was
+_blasée_, and her millinery was in sympathy with her feelings. Her hats
+had all a fringe of disconsolate feathers, whose melancholy plumage
+emphasised the downward curve of her mouth. To see Yvette enter from the
+darkness and, seating herself at her solitary table, droop over her
+plate as though there were nothing in Versailles worth sitting upright
+for, was to view _ennui_ personified.
+
+Yvette invariably drank white wine, and the food rarely pleased her. She
+would cast a contemptuous look over the menu offered by the deferential
+Henri, then turn wearily away, esteeming that no item on its length
+merited even her most perfunctory consideration. But after one or two
+despondent glances, Yvette ever made the best of a bad bargain, and
+ordered quite a comprehensive little dinner, which she ate with the same
+air of utter disdain. She always concluded by eating an orange dipped in
+sugar. Even had a special table not been reserved for her, one could
+have told where Yvette had dined by the bowl of powdered sugar, just as
+one could have located the man with the fierce moustaches and the fur
+coat by the presence of his pepper-mill, or the place of "Madame" from
+her prodigal habit of rending a quarter-yard of the crusty French bread
+in twain and consuming only the soft inside.
+
+From the ignorance of our cursory acquaintance we had judged the French
+a sociable nation. Our stay at Versailles speedily convinced us of the
+fallacy of that belief. Nothing could have impressed us so forcibly as
+did the frigid silence that characterised the company. Many of them had
+fed there daily for years, yet within the walls of the sunny dining-room
+none exchanged even a salutation. This unexpected taciturnity in a
+people whom we had been taught to regard as lively and voluble made us
+almost ashamed of our own garrulity, and when, in the presence of the
+silent company, we were tempted to exchange remarks, we found ourselves
+doing it in hushed voices as though we were in church.
+
+A clearer knowledge, however, showed us that though some unspoken
+convention rendered the hotel guests oblivious of each other's presence
+while indoors, beyond the hotel walls they might hold communion. Two
+retired military men, both wearing the red ribbon of the Legion of
+Honour, as indeed did most of our _habitués_, sat at adjacent tables.
+One, tall and thin, was a Colonel; the other, little and neat, a Colonel
+also. To the casual gaze they appeared complete strangers, and we had
+consumed many meals in their society before observing that whenever the
+tall Colonel had sucked the last cerise from his glass of _eau-de-vie_,
+and begun to fold his napkin--a formidable task, for the serviettes
+fully deserved the designation later bestowed on them by the Boy, of
+"young table-cloths"--the little Colonel made haste to fold his also.
+Both rose from their chairs at the same instant, and the twain, having
+received their hats from the attentive Iorson, vanished, still mute,
+into the darkness together.
+
+[Illustration: The Two Colonels]
+
+Once, to our consternation, the little Colonel replaced his napkin in
+its ring without waiting for the signal from the tall Colonel. But our
+apprehension that they, in their dealings in that mysterious outer world
+which twice daily they sought together, might have fallen into a
+difference of opinion was dispelled by the little Colonel, who had
+risen, stepping to his friend and holding out his hand. This the tall
+Colonel without withdrawing his eyes from _Le Journal des Débats_ which
+he was reading, silently pressed. Then, still without a word spoken or a
+look exchanged, the little Colonel passed out alone.
+
+[Illustration: The Young and Brave]
+
+The average age of the Ogams was seventy. True, there was Dunois the
+Young and Brave, who could not have been more than forty-five. What his
+name really was we knew not, but something in his comparatively juvenile
+appearance among the chevaliers suggested the appellation which for lack
+of a better we retained. Dunois' youth might only be comparative, but
+his bravery was indubitable; for who among the Ogams but he was daring
+enough to tackle the _pâté-de-foie-gras_, or the _abattis_, a stew
+composed of the gizzards and livers of fowls? And who but Dunois would
+have been so reckless as to follow baked mussels and _crépinettes_ with
+_rognons frits_?
+
+Dunois, too, revealed intrepid leanings toward strange liquors.
+Sometimes--it was usually at _déjeûner_ when he had dined out on the
+previous evening--he would demand the wine-list of Iorson, and rejecting
+the _vin blanc_ or _vin rouge_ which, being _compris_, contented the
+others, would order himself something of a choice brand. One of his
+favourite papers was _Le Rire_, and Henri, Iorson's youthful assistant,
+regarded him with admiration.
+
+[Illustration: Malcontent]
+
+A less attractive presence in the dining-room was Madame. Madame, who
+was an elderly dame of elephantine girth, had resided in the hotel for
+half a dozen years, during which period her sole exercise had been taken
+in slowly descending from her chamber in the upper regions for her
+meals, and then, leisurely assimilation completed, in yet more slowly
+ascending. Madame's allotted seat was placed in close proximity to the
+hot-air register; and though Madame was usually one of the first to
+enter the dining-room, she was generally the last to leave. Madame's
+appetite was as animated as her body was lethargic. She always drank her
+half-bottle of red wine to the dregs, and she invariably concluded with
+a greengage in brandy. So it was small marvel that, when at last she
+left her chair to "tortoise" upstairs, her complexion should be two
+shades darker than when she descended.
+
+Five dishes, irrespective of _hors d'oeuvres_ at luncheon, and _potage_
+at dinner, were allowed each guest, and Madame's selection was an affair
+of time. Our hotel was justly noted for its _cuisine_, yet on infrequent
+occasions the food supplied to Madame was not to her mind. At these
+times the whole establishment suffered until the irascible old lady's
+taste was suited. One night at dinner Iorson had the misfortune to serve
+Madame with some turkey that failed to meet with her approval. With the
+air of an insulted empress, Madame ordered its removal. The conciliatory
+Iorson obediently carried off the dish and speedily returned, bearing
+what professed to be another portion. But from the glimpse we got as it
+passed our table we had a shrewd suspicion that Iorson the wily had
+merely turned over the piece of turkey and re-served it with a little
+more gravy and an additional dressing of _cressons_. Madame, it
+transpired, shared our suspicions, for this portion also she declined,
+with renewed indignation. Then followed a long period of waiting,
+wherein Madame, fidgeting restlessly on her seat, kept fierce eyes fixed
+on the door through which the viands entered.
+
+Just as her impatience threatened to vent itself in action, Iorson
+appeared bearing a third helping of turkey. Placing it before the irate
+lady, he fled as though determined to debar a third repudiation. For a
+moment an air of triumph pervaded Madame's features. Then she began to
+gesticulate violently, with the evident intention of again attracting
+Iorson's notice. But the forbearance even of the diplomatic Iorson was
+at an end. Re-doubling his attentions to the diners at the farther side
+of the room, he remained resolutely unconscious of Madame's signals,
+which were rapidly becoming frantic.
+
+The less sophisticated Henri, however, feeling a boyish interest in the
+little comedy, could not resist a curious glance in Madame's direction.
+That was sufficient. Waving imperiously, Madame compelled his approach,
+and, moving reluctantly, fearful of the issue, Henri advanced.
+
+"Couteau!" hissed Madame. Henri flew to fetch the desired implement,
+and, realising that Madame had at last been satisfied, we again breathed
+freely.
+
+A more attractive personage was a typical old aristocrat, officer of the
+Legion of Honour, who used to enter, walk with great dignity to his
+table, eat sparingly of one or two dishes, drink a glass of his _vin
+ordinaire_ and retire. Sometimes he was accompanied by a tiny spaniel,
+which occupied a chair beside him; and frequently a middle-aged son,
+whose bourgeois appearance was in amazing contrast to that of his
+refined old father, attended him.
+
+[Illustration: The Aristocrat]
+
+There were others, less interesting perhaps, but equally self-absorbed.
+One afternoon, entering the cable car that runs--for fun, apparently, as
+it rarely boasted a passenger--to and from the Trianon, we recognised in
+its sole occupant an Ogam who during the weeks of our stay had eaten, in
+evident oblivion of his human surroundings, at the table next to ours.
+Forgetting that we were without the walls of silence, we expected no
+greeting; but to our amazement he rose, and, placing himself opposite
+us, conversed affably and in most excellent English for the rest of the
+journey. To speak with him was to discover a courteous and travelled
+gentleman. Yet during our stay in Versailles we never knew him exchange
+even a bow with any of his fellow Ogams, who were men of like
+qualifications, though, as he told us, he had taken his meals in the
+hotel for over five years.
+
+Early in the year our peace was rudely broken by the advent of a
+commercial man--a short, grey-haired being of an activity so foreign to
+our usage that a feeling of unrest was imparted to the _salle-à-manger_
+throughout his stay. His movements were distractingly erratic. In his
+opinion, meals were things to be treated casually, to be consumed
+haphazard at any hour that chanced to suit. He did not enter the
+dining-room at the exact moment each day as did the Ogams. He would rush
+in, throw his hat on a peg, devour some food with unseemly haste, and
+depart in less time than it took the others to reach the _légumes_.
+
+[Illustration: Papa, Mama et Bébé]
+
+He was hospitable too, and had a disconcerting way of inviting guests to
+luncheon or dinner, and then forgetting that he had done so. One morning
+a stranger entered, and after a brief conference with Iorson, was
+conducted to the commercial man's table to await his arrival. The
+regular customers took their wonted places, and began in their leisurely
+fashion to breakfast, and still the visitor sat alone, starting up
+expectantly every time a door opened, then despondently resuming his
+seat.
+
+At last Iorson, taking compassion, urged the neglected guest to while
+away his period of waiting by trifling with the _hors-d'oeuvres_. He was
+proceeding to allay the pangs of hunger with selections from the tray of
+anchovies, sardines, pickled beet, and sliced sausage, when his host
+entered, voluble and irrepressible as ever. The dignified Ogams
+shuddered inwardly as his strident voice awoke the echoes of the room,
+and their already stiff limbs became rigid with disapproval.
+
+In winter, transient visitors but rarely occupied one or other of the
+square centre tables, though not infrequently a proud father and mother
+who had come to visit a soldier son at the barracks, brought him to the
+hotel for a meal, and for a space the radiance of blue and scarlet and
+the glint of steel cast a military glamour over the staid company.
+
+An amusing little circumstance to us onlookers was that although the
+supply of cooked food seemed equal to any demand, the arrival of even a
+trio of unexpected guests to dinner invariably caused a dearth of bread.
+For on their advent Iorson would dash out bareheaded into the night, to
+reappear in an incredibly short time carrying a loaf nearly as tall as
+himself.
+
+One morning a stalwart young Briton brought to breakfast a pretty
+English cousin, on leave of absence from her boarding-school. His
+knowledge of French was limited. When anything was wanted he shouted
+"Garçon!" in a lordly voice, but it was the pretty cousin who gave the
+order. _Déjeûner_ over, they departed in the direction of the Château.
+And at sunset as we chanced to stroll along the Boulevard de la Reine,
+we saw the pretty cousin, all the gaiety fled from her face, bidding her
+escort farewell at the gate of a Pension pour Demoiselles. The ball was
+over. Poor little Cinderella was perforce returning to the dust and
+ashes of learning.
+
+[Illustration: Juvenile Progress]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE TOWN
+
+
+The English-speaking traveller finds Versailles vastly more foreign than
+the Antipodes. He may voyage for many weeks, and at each distant
+stopping-place find his own tongue spoken around him, and his
+conventions governing society. But let him leave London one night, cross
+the Channel at its narrowest--and most turbulent--and sunrise will find
+him an alien in a land whose denizens differ from him in language,
+temperament, dress, food, manners, and customs.
+
+Of a former visit to Versailles we had retained little more than the
+usual tourist's recollection of a hurried run through a palace of
+fatiguing magnificence, a confusing peep at the Trianons, a glance
+around the gorgeous state equipages, an unsatisfactory meal at one of
+the open-air _cafés_, and a scamper back to Paris. But our winter
+residence in the quaint old town revealed to us the existence of a life
+that is all its own--a life widely variant, in its calm repose, from the
+bustle and gaiety of the capital, but one that is replete with charm,
+and abounding in picturesque-interest.
+
+[Illustration: Automoblesse Oblige]
+
+Versailles is not ancient; it is old, completely old. Since the fall of
+the Second Empire it has stood still. Most of the clocks have run down,
+as though they realised the futility of trying to keep pace with the
+rest of the world. The future merges into the present, the present fades
+into the past, and still the clocks of Versailles point to the same long
+eventide.
+
+[Illustration: Sable Garb]
+
+The proximity of Paris is evinced only by the vividly tinted automobiles
+that make Versailles their goal. Even they rarely tarry in the old town,
+but, turning at the Château gates, lose no time in retracing their
+impetuous flight towards a city whose usages accord better with their
+creed of feverish hurry-scurry than do the conventions of reposeful
+Versailles. And these fiery chariots of modernity, with their ghoulish,
+fur-garbed, and hideously spectacled occupants, once their raucous,
+cigale-like birr-r-r has died away in the distance, leave infinitely
+less impression on the placid life of Versailles than do their wheels on
+the roads they traverse. Under the grand trees of the wide avenues the
+townsfolk move quietly about, busying themselves with their own affairs
+and practising their little economies as they have been doing any time
+during the last century.
+
+Perhaps it was the emphatic and demonstrative nature of the mourning
+worn that gave us the idea that the better-class female population of
+Versailles consisted chiefly of widows. When walking abroad we seemed
+incessantly to encounter widows: widows young and old, from the aged to
+the absurdly immature. It was only after a period of bewilderment that
+it dawned upon us that the sepulchral garb and heavy crape veils
+reaching from head to heel were not necessarily the emblems of
+widowhood, but might signify some state of minor bereavement. In Britain
+a display of black such as is an everyday sight at Versailles is
+undreamt of, and one saw more crape veils in a day in Versailles than in
+London in a week. Little girls, though their legs might be uncovered,
+had their chubby features shrouded in disfiguring gauze and to our
+unaccustomed foreign eyes a genuine widow represented nothing more
+shapely than a more or less stubby pillar festooned with crape.
+
+But for an inborn conviction that a frugal race like the French would
+not invest in a plethora of mourning garb only to cast it aside after a
+few months' wear, and that therefore the period of wearing the willow
+must be greatly protracted, we would have been haunted by the idea that
+the adult male mortality of Versailles was enormous.
+
+"Do they wear such deep mourning for all relatives?" I asked our hotel
+proprietor, who had just told us that during the first month of mourning
+the disguising veils were worn over the faces.
+
+Monsieur shook his sleek head gravely, "But no, Madame, not for all. For
+a husband, yes; for a father or mother, yes; for a sister or brother, an
+uncle or aunt, yes; but for a cousin, _no_."
+
+He pronounced the _no_ so emphatically as almost to convince us of his
+belief that in refusing to mourn in the most lugubrious degree for
+cousins the Versaillese acted with praiseworthy self-denial.
+
+There seemed to be no medium between sackcloth and gala-dress. We seldom
+noted the customary degrees of half-mourning. Plain colours were
+evidently unpopular and fancy tartans of the most flamboyant hues
+predominated amongst those who, during a spell of, say, three years had
+been fortunate enough not to lose a parent, sister, brother, uncle, or
+aunt. A perfectly natural reaction appeared to urge the _ci-devant_
+mourners to robe themselves in lively checks and tartans. It was as
+though they said--"Here at last is our opportunity for gratifying our
+natural taste in colours. It will probably be of but short duration.
+Therefore let us select a combination of all the most brilliant tints
+and wear them, for who knows how soon that gruesome pall of woe may
+again enshroud us."
+
+Probably it was the vicinity of our hotel to the Church of Notre Dame
+that, until we discovered its brighter side, led us to esteem Versailles
+a veritable city of the dead, for on our bi-daily walks to visit the
+invalids we were almost certain to encounter a funeral procession either
+approaching or leaving Notre Dame. And on but rare occasions was the
+great central door undraped with the sepulchral insignia which
+proclaimed that a Mass for the dead was in prospect or in progress.
+Sometimes the sable valance and portières were heavily trimmed and
+fringed with silver; at others there was only the scantiest display of
+time-worn black cloth.
+
+[Illustration: A Football Team]
+
+The humblest funeral was affecting and impressive. As the sad little
+procession moved along the streets--the wayfarers reverently uncovering
+and soldiers saluting as it passed--the dirge-like chant of the
+_Miserere_ never failed to fill my eyes with unbidden tears of sympathy
+for the mourners, who, with bowed heads, walked behind the wreath-laden
+hearse.
+
+Despite the abundant emblems of woe, Versailles can never appear other
+than bright and attractive. Even in mid-winter the skies were clear, and
+on the shortest days the sun seldom forgot to cast a warm glow over the
+gay, white-painted houses. And though the women's dress tends towards
+depression, the brilliant military uniforms make amends. There are
+12,000 soldiers stationed in Versailles; and where a fifth of the
+population is gorgeous in scarlet and blue and gold, no town can be
+accused of lacking colour.
+
+Next to the redundant manifestations of grief, the thing that most
+impressed us was the rigid economy practised in even the smallest
+details of expenditure. Among the lower classes there is none of that
+aping of fashion so prevalent in prodigal England; the different social
+grades have each a distinctive dress and are content to wear it. Among
+the men, blouses of stout blue cotton and sabots are common. Sometimes
+velveteen trousers, whose original tint years of wear have toned to some
+exquisite shade of heliotrope, and a russet coat worn with a fur cap and
+red neckerchief, compose an effect that for harmonious colouring would
+be hard to beat. The female of his species, as is the case in all
+natural animals, is content to be less adorned. Her skirt is black, her
+apron blue. While she is young, her neatly dressed hair, even in the
+coldest weather, is guiltless of covering. As her years increase she
+takes her choice of three head-dresses, and to shelter her grey locks
+selects either a black knitted hood, a checked cotton handkerchief, or a
+white cap of ridiculously unbecoming design.
+
+No French workaday father need fear that his earnings will be squandered
+on such perishable adornments as feathers, artificial flowers, or
+ribbons. The purchases of his spouse are certain to be governed by
+extreme frugality. She selects the family raiment with a view to
+durability. Flimsy finery that the sun would fade, shoddy materials that
+a shower of rain would ruin, offer no temptations to her. When she
+expends a few _sous_ on the cutting of her boy's hair, she has it
+cropped until his cranium resembles the soft, furry skin of a mole, thus
+rendering further outlay in this respect unlikely for months. And when
+she buys a flannel shirt, a six-inch strip of the stuff, for future
+mending, is always included in the price.
+
+But with all this economy there is an air of comfort, a complete absence
+of squalor. In cold weather the school-girls wear snug hoods, or little
+fur turbans; and boys have the picturesque and almost indestructible
+bérets of cloth or corduroy. Cloth boots that will conveniently slip
+inside sabots for outdoor use are greatly in vogue, and the comfortable
+Capuchin cloaks--whose peaked hood can be drawn over the head, thus
+obviating the use of umbrellas--are favoured by both sexes and all ages.
+
+[Illustration: Mistress and Maid]
+
+As may be imagined, little is spent on luxuries. Vendors of frivolities
+know better than to waste time tempting those provident people. On one
+occasion only did I see money parted with lightly, and in that case the
+bargain appeared astounding. One Sunday morning an enterprising huckster
+of gimcrack jewellery, venturing out from Paris, had set down his strong
+box on the verge of the market square, and, displaying to the admiring
+eyes of the country folks, ladies' and gentlemen's watches with chains
+complete, in the most dazzling of aureate metal, sold them at six sous
+apiece as quickly as he could hand them out.
+
+Living is comparatively cheap in Versailles; though, as in all places
+where the cost of existence is low, it must be hard to earn a livelihood
+there. By far the larger proportion of the community reside in flats,
+which can be rented at sums that rise in accordance with the
+accommodation but are in all cases moderate. Housekeeping in a flat,
+should the owner so will it, is ever conducive to economy, and life in a
+French provincial town is simple and unconventional.
+
+[Illustration: Sage and Onions]
+
+Bread, wine, and vegetables, the staple foods of the nation, are good
+and inexpensive. For 40 centimes one may purchase a bottle of _vin de
+gard_, a thin tipple, doubtless; but what kind of claret could one buy
+for fourpence a quart at home? _Graves_ I have seen priced at 50
+centimes, _Barsac_ at 60, and _eau de vie_ is plentiful at 1 franc 20!
+
+Fish are scarce, and beef is supposed to be dear; but when butter, eggs,
+and cheese bulk so largely in the diet, the half chicken, the scrap of
+tripe, the slice of garlic sausage, the tiny cut of beef for the
+_ragout_, cannot be heavy items. Everything eatable is utilised, and
+many weird edibles are sold; for the French can contrive tasty dishes
+out of what in Britain would be thrown aside as offal.
+
+On three mornings a week--Sunday, Tuesday, and Friday--the presence of
+the open-air market rouses Versailles from her dormouse-like slumber and
+galvanises her into a state of activity that lasts for several hours.
+Long before dawn, the roads leading townwards are busy with all manner
+of vehicles, from the great waggon drawn by four white horses driven
+tandem, and laden with a moving stack of hay, to the ramshackle
+donkey-cart conveying half a score of cabbages, a heap of dandelions
+grubbed from the meadows, and the owner.
+
+[Illustration: Marketing]
+
+By daybreak the market square under the leafless trees presents a lively
+scene. There are stalls sacred to poultry, to butter, eggs, and cheese;
+but the vegetable kingdom predominates. Flanked by bulwarks of greens
+and bundles of leeks of incredible whiteness and thickness of stem, sit
+the saleswomen, their heads swathed in gay cotton kerchiefs, and the
+ground before them temptingly spread with little heaps of corn salad, of
+chicory, and of yellow endive placed in adorable contrast to the scarlet
+carrots, blood-red beetroot, pinky-fawn onions, and glorious orange-hued
+pumpkins; while ready to hand are measures of white or mottled haricot
+beans, of miniature Brussels sprouts, and of pink or yellow potatoes, an
+esculent that in France occupies a very unimportant place compared with
+that it holds amongst the lower classes in Britain.
+
+[Illustration: Private Boxes]
+
+In Versailles Madame does her own marketing, her maid--in sabots and
+neat but usually hideous cap--accompanying her, basket laden. From stall
+to stall Madame passes, buying a roll of creamy butter wrapped in fresh
+leaves here, a fowl there, some eggs from the wrinkled old dame who
+looks so swart and witch-like in contrast to her stock of milk-white
+eggs.
+
+Madame makes her purchases judiciously--time is not a valuable commodity
+in Versailles--and finishes, when the huge black basket is getting heavy
+even for the strong arms of the squat little maid, by buying a mess of
+cooked spinach from the pretty girl whose red hood makes a happy spot of
+colour among the surrounding greenery, and a measure of onions from the
+profound-looking sage who garners a winter livelihood from the summer
+produce of his fields.
+
+[Illustration: A Foraging Party]
+
+Relations with uncooked food are, in Versailles, distinguished by an
+unwonted intimacy. No one, however dignified his station or appearance,
+is ashamed of purchasing the materials for his dinner in the open
+market, or of carrying them home exposed to the view of the world
+through the transpicuous meshes of a string bag. The portly gentleman
+with the fur coat and waxed moustaches, who looks a general at least,
+and is probably a tram-car conductor, bears his bunch of turnips with an
+air that dignifies the office, just as the young sub-lieutenant in the
+light blue cloak and red cap and trousers carries his mother's apples
+and lettuces without a thought of shame. And it is easy to guess the
+nature of the _déjeûner_ of this _simple soldat_ from the long loaf, the
+bottle of _vin ordinaire_, and the onions that form the contents of his
+net. In the street it was a common occurrence to encounter some
+non-commissioned officer who, entrusted with the catering for his mess,
+did his marketing accompanied by two underlings, who bore between them
+the great open basket destined to hold his purchases.
+
+[Illustration: A Thriving Merchant]
+
+A picturesque appearance among the hucksters of the market square is the
+_boîte de carton_ seller. Blue-bloused, with his stock of lavender or
+brown bandboxes strapped in a cardboard Tower of Pisa on his back, he
+parades along, his wares finding ready sale; for his visits are
+infrequent, and if one does not purchase at the moment, as does Madame,
+the opportunity is gone.
+
+The spirit of camaraderie is strong amongst the good folks of the
+market. One morning the Artist had paused a moment to make a rough
+sketch of a plump, affable man who, shadowed by the green cotton awning
+of his stall, was selling segments of round flat cheeses of goat's milk;
+vile-smelling compounds that, judged from their outer coating of
+withered leaves, straw, and dirt, would appear to have been made in a
+stable and dried on a rubbish heap. The subject of the jotting, busy
+with his customers, was all unconscious; but an old crone who sat, her
+feet resting on a tiny charcoal stove, amidst a circle of decadent
+greens, detecting the Artist's action, became excited, and after eyeing
+him uneasily for a moment, confided her suspicions as to his ulterior
+motive to a round-faced young countryman who retailed flowers close by.
+He, recognising us as customers--even then we were laden with his
+violets and mimosa--merely smiled at her concern. But his apathy only
+served to heighten Madame's agitation. She was unwilling to leave her
+snug seat yet felt that her imperative duty lay in acquainting Monsieur
+du Fromage with the inexplicable behaviour of the inquisitive foreigner.
+But the nefarious deed was already accomplished, and as we moved away
+our last glimpse was of the little stove standing deserted, while Madame
+hastened across the street in her clattering sabots to warn her friend.
+
+The bustle of the market is soon ended. By ten o'clock the piles of
+vegetables are sensibly diminished. By half-past ten the white-capped
+maid-servants have carried the heavy baskets home, and are busy
+preparing lunch. At eleven o'clock the sharp boy whose stock-in-trade
+consisted of three trays of snails stuffed _à la_ Bourgogne has sold all
+the large ones at 45 centimes a dozen, all the small at 25, and quite
+two-thirds of the medium-sized at 35 centimes.
+
+The clock points to eleven. The sun is high now. The vendors awaken to
+the consciousness of hunger, and Madame of the _pommes frites_ stall,
+whose assistant dexterously cuts the peeled tubers into strips, is fully
+occupied in draining the crisp golden shreds from the boiling fat and
+handing them over, well sprinkled with salt and pepper, to avid
+customers, who devour them smoking hot, direct from their paper
+cornucopias.
+
+Long before the first gloom of the early mid-winter dusk, all has been
+cleared away. The rickety stalls have been demolished; the unsold
+remainder of the goods disposed of; the worthy country folks, their
+pockets heavy with _sous_, are well on their journey homewards, and only
+a litter of straw, of cabbage leaves and leek tops remains as evidence
+of the lively market of the morning.
+
+[Illustration: Chestnuts in the Avenue]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+OUR ARBRE DE NOËL
+
+
+We bought it on the Sunday morning from old Grand'mere Gomard in the
+Avenue de St. Cloud.
+
+It was not a noble specimen of a Christmas-tree. Looked at with cold,
+unimaginative eyes, it might have been considered lopsided; undersized
+it undoubtedly was. Yet a pathetic familiarity in the desolate aspect of
+the little tree aroused our sympathy as no rare horticultural trophy
+ever could.
+
+Some Christmas fairy must have whispered to Grand'mere to grub up the
+tiny tree and to include it in the stock she was taking into Versailles
+on the market morning. For there it was, its roots stuck securely into a
+big pot, looking like some forlorn forest bantling among the garden
+plants.
+
+[Illustration: The Tree Vendor]
+
+Grand'mere Gomard had established herself in a cosy nook at the foot of
+one of the great leafless trees of the Avenue. Straw hurdles were
+cunningly arranged to form three sides of a square, in whose midst she
+was seated on a rush-bottomed chair, like a queen on a humble throne.
+Her head was bound by a gaily striped kerchief, and her feet rested
+snugly on a charcoal stove. Her merchandise, which consisted of half a
+dozen pots of pink and white primulas, a few spotted or crimson
+cyclamen, sundry lettuce and cauliflower plants, and some roots of
+pansies and daisies, was grouped around her.
+
+[Illustration: The Tree-Bearer]
+
+The primulas and cyclamen, though their pots were shrouded in pinafores
+of white paper skilfully calculated to conceal any undue lankiness of
+stem, left us unmoved. But the sight of the starveling little fir tree
+reminded us that in the school hospital lay two sick boys whose roseate
+dreams of London and holidays had suddenly changed to the knowledge that
+weeks of isolation and imprisonment behind the window-blind with the red
+cross lay before them. If we could not give them the longed-for home
+Christmas, we could at least give them a Christmas-tree.
+
+The sight of foreign customers for Grand'mere Gomard speedily collected
+a small group of interested spectators. A knot of children relinquished
+their tantalising occupation of hanging round the pan of charcoal over
+whose glow chestnuts were cracking appetisingly, and the stall of the
+lady who with amazing celerity fried pancakes on a hot plate, and sold
+them dotted with butter and sprinkled with sugar to the lucky possessors
+of a _sou_. Even the sharp urchin who presided over the old red
+umbrella, which, reversed, with the ferule fixed in a cross-bar of wood,
+served as a receptacle for sheets of festive note-paper embellished with
+lace edges and further adorned with coloured scraps, temporarily
+entrusting a juvenile sister with his responsibilities, added his
+presence to our court.
+
+[Illustration: Rosine]
+
+Christmas-trees seemed not to be greatly in demand in Versailles, and
+many were the whispered communings as to what _les Anglais_ proposed
+doing with the tree after they had bought it. When the transaction was
+completed and Grand'mere Gomard had exchanged the tree, with a sheet of
+_La Patrie_ wrapped round its pot, for a franc and our thanks, the
+interest increased. We would require some one to carry our purchase, and
+each of the bright-eyed, short-cropped Jeans and Pierres was eager to
+offer himself. But our selection was already made. A slender boy in a
+_béret_ and black pinafore, who had been our earliest spectator, was
+singled out and entrusted with the conveyance of the _arbre de Noël_ to
+our hotel.
+
+The fact that it had met with approbation appeared to encourage the
+little tree. The change may have been imaginary, but from the moment it
+passed into our possession the branches seemed less despondent, the
+needles more erect.
+
+"Will you put toys on it?" the youthful porter asked suddenly.
+
+"Yes; it is for a sick boy--a boy who has fever. Have you ever had an
+_arbre de Noël_?"
+
+"_Jamais_," was his conclusive reply: the tone thereof suggesting that
+that was a felicity quite beyond the range of possibility.
+
+The tree secured, there began the comparatively difficult work of
+finding the customary ornaments of glass and glitter to deck it. A
+fruitless search had left us almost in despair, when, late on Monday
+afternoon, we joyed to discover miniature candles of red, yellow, and
+blue on the open-air stall in front of a toy-store. A rummage in the
+interior of the shop procured candle clips, and a variety of glittering
+bagatelles. Laden with treasure, we hurried back to the hotel, and began
+the work of decoration in preparation for the morning.
+
+During its short stay in our room at the hotel, the erstwhile despised
+little tree met with an adulation that must have warmed the heart within
+its rough stem. When nothing more than three coloured glass globes, a
+gilded walnut, and a gorgeous humming-bird with wings and tail of spun
+glass had been suspended by narrow ribbon from its branches, Rosine, the
+pretty Swiss chambermaid, chancing to enter the room with letters, was
+struck with admiration and pronounced it "très belle!"
+
+And Karl bringing in a fresh _panier_ of logs when the adorning was
+complete, and silly little delightful baubles sparkled and twinkled from
+every spray, putting down his burden, threw up his hands in amazement
+and declared the _arbre de Noël_ "magnifique!"
+
+This alien Christmas-tree had an element all its own. When we were
+searching for knick-knacks the shops were full of tiny Holy Babes lying
+cradled in waxen innocence in mangers of yellow corn. One of these
+little effigies we had bought because they pleased us. And when, the
+decoration of the tree being nearly finished, the tip of the centre stem
+standing scraggily naked called for covering, what more fitting than
+that the dear little Sacred _Bébé_ in his nest of golden straw should
+have the place of honour?
+
+It was late on Christmas Eve before our task was ended. But next morning
+when Karl, carrying in our _petit déjeûner_, turned on the electric
+light, and our anxious gaze sought our work, we found it good.
+
+Then followed a hurried packing of the loose presents; and, a _fiacre_
+having been summoned, the tree which had entered the room in all
+humility passed out transmogrified beyond knowledge. Rosine, duster in
+hand, leant over the banisters of the upper landing to watch its
+descent. Karl saw it coming and flew to open the outer door for its
+better egress. Even the stout old driver of the red-wheeled cab creaked
+cumbrously round on his box to look upon its beauties.
+
+[Illustration: Alms and the Lady]
+
+The Market was busy in the square as we rattled through. From behind
+their battlemented wares the country mice waged wordy war with the town
+mice over the price of merchandise. But on this occasion we were too
+engrossed to notice a scene whose picturesque humour usually fascinated
+us, for as the carriage jogged over the rough roads the poor little
+_arbre de Noël_ palpitated convulsively. The gewgaws clattered like
+castanets, as though in frantic expostulation, and the radiant
+spun-glass humming-birds quivered until we expected them to break from
+their elastic fetters and fly away. The green and scarlet one with the
+gold-flecked wings fell on the floor and rolled under the seat just as
+the cab drew up at the great door of the school.
+
+The two Red-Cross prisoners who, now that the dominating heat of fever
+had faded, were thinking wistfully of the forbidden joys of home, had no
+suspicion of our intention, and we wished to surprise them. So, burdened
+with our treasure, we slipped in quietly.
+
+From her lodge window the concierge nodded approval. And at the door of
+the hospital the good Soeur received us, a flush of pleasure glorifying
+her tranquil face.
+
+Then followed a moment wherein the patients were ordered to shut their
+eyes, to reopen them upon the vision splendid of the _arbre de Noël_.
+Perhaps it was the contrast to the meagre background of the tiny
+school-hospital room, with its two white beds and bare walls, but,
+placed in full view on the centre table, the tree was almost imposing.
+Standing apart from Grand'mere's primulas and cyclamen as though,
+conscious of its own inferiority, it did not wish to obtrude, it had
+looked dejected, miserable. During its sojourn at the hotel the
+appreciation of its meanness had troubled us. But now, in the shabby
+little chamber, where there were no rival attractions to detract from
+its glory, we felt proud of it. It was just the right size for the
+surroundings. A two-franc tree, had Grand'mere possessed one, would have
+been Brobdignagian and pretentious.
+
+[Illustration: Adoration]
+
+A donor who is handicapped by the knowledge that the gifts he selects
+must within a few weeks be destroyed by fire, is rarely lavish in his
+outlay. Yet our presents, wrapped in white paper and tied with blue
+ribbons, when arranged round the flower-pot made a wonderful show, There
+were mounted Boers who, when you pressed the ball at the end of the
+air-tube, galloped in a wobbly, uncertain fashion. The invalids had good
+fun later trying races with them, and the Boy professed to find that his
+Boer gained an accelerated speed when he whispered "Bobs" to him. There
+were tales of adventure and flasks of eau-de-Cologne and smart virile
+pocket-books, one red morocco, the other blue. We regretted the
+pocket-books; but their possession made the recipients who, boylike,
+took no heed for the cleansing fires of the morrow, feel grown-up at
+once. And they yearned for the advent of the first day of the year, that
+they might begin writing in their new diaries. For the Sister there was
+a miniature gold consecrated medal. It was a small tribute of our
+esteem, but one that pleased the devout recipient.
+
+[Illustration: Thankfulness]
+
+Suspended among the purely ornamental trinkets of the tree hung tiny net
+bags of crystallised violets and many large chocolates rolled up in
+silver paper. The boys, who had subsisted for several days on nothing
+more exciting than boiled milk, openly rejoiced when they caught sight
+of the sweets. But to her patients' disgust, the Soeur, who had a pretty
+wit of her own, promptly frustrated their intentions by counting the
+dainties.
+
+"I count the chocolates. They are good boys, wise boys, honest boys, and
+I have every confidence in them, but--I count the chocolates!" said the
+Soeur.
+
+[Illustration: One of the Devout]
+
+As we passed back along the Rue de la Paroisse, worshippers were
+flocking in and out of Notre Dame, running the gauntlet of the unsavoury
+beggars who, loudly importunate, thronged the portals. Before the quiet
+nook wherein, under a gold-bestarred canopy, was the tableau of the
+Infant Jesus in the stable, little children stood in wide-eyed
+adoration, and older people gazed with mute devotion.
+
+Some might deem the little spectacle theatrical, and there was a slight
+irrelevance in the pot-plants that were grouped along the foreground,
+but none could fail to be impressed by the silent reverence of the
+congregation. No service was in process, yet many believers knelt at
+prayer. Here a pretty girl returned thanks for evident blessings
+received; there an old spinster, the narrowness of whose means forbade
+her expending a couple of sous on the hire of a chair, knelt on the
+chilly flags and murmured words of gratitude for benefits whereof her
+appearance bore no outward indication.
+
+We had left the prisoners to the enjoyment of their newly acquired
+property in the morning. At gloaming we again mounted the time-worn
+outside stair leading to the chamber whose casement bore the ominous red
+cross. The warm glow of firelight filled the room, scintillating in the
+glittering facets of the baubles on the tree; and from their pillows two
+pale-faced boys--boys who, despite their lengthening limbs were yet
+happily children at heart--watched eager-eyed while the sweet-faced
+Soeur, with reverential care, lit the candles that surrounded the Holy
+_Bébé_.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+LE JOUR DE L'ANNÉE
+
+
+The closing days of 1900 had been unusually mild. Versailles townsfolk,
+watching the clear skies for sign of change, declared that it would be
+outside all precedent if Christmas week passed without snow. But,
+defiant of rule, sunshine continued, and the new century opened
+cloudless and bright.
+
+[Illustration: De L'eau Chaude]
+
+Karl, entering with hot water, gave us seasonable greeting, and as we
+descended the stair, pretty Rosine, brushing boots at the open window of
+the landing, also wished us a smiling _bonne nouvelle année_. But within
+or without there was little token of gaiety. Sundry booths for the sale
+of gingerbread and cheap _jouets_, which had been erected in the Avenue
+de St. Cloud, found business languishing, though a stalwart countryman
+in blouse and sabots, whose stock-in-trade consisted of whirligigs
+fashioned in the semblance of _moulins rouges_ and grotesque blue
+Chinamen which he carried stuck into a straw wreath fixed on a tall
+pole, had no lack of custom.
+
+The great food question never bulks so largely in the public interest as
+at the close of a year, so perhaps it was but natural that the greatest
+appreciation of the festive traditions of the season should be evinced
+by the shops devoted to the sale of provender. Turkeys sported scarlet
+bows on their toes as though anticipating a dance rather than the oven;
+and by their sides sausages, their somewhat plethoric waists girdled by
+pink ribbon sashes, seemed ready to join them in the frolic. In one
+cookshop window a trio of plaster nymphs who stood ankle-deep in a pool
+of crimped green paper, upheld a huge garland of cunningly moulded wax
+roses, dahlias, and lilac, above which perched a pheasant regnant. This
+trophy met with vast approbation until a rival establishment across the
+way, not to be outdone, exhibited a centrepiece of unparalleled
+originality, consisting as it did of a war scene modelled entirely in
+lard. Entrenched behind the battlements of the fort crowning an
+eminence, Boers busied themselves with cannon whose aim was carefully
+directed towards the admiring spectators outside the window, not at the
+British troops who were essaying to scale the greasy slopes. Half way up
+the hill, a miniature train appeared from time to time issuing from an
+absolutely irrelevant tunnel, and, progressing at the rate of quite a
+mile an hour, crawled into the corresponding tunnel on the other side.
+At the base of the hill British soldiers, who seemed quite cognisant of
+the utter futility of the Boer gunnery, were complacently driving off
+cattle. Captious critics might have taken exception to the fact that the
+waxen camellias adorning the hill were nearly as big as the battlements,
+and considerably larger than the engine of the train. But fortunately
+detractors were absent, and such trifling discrepancies did not lessen
+the genuine delight afforded the spectators by this unique design which,
+as a card proudly informed the world, was entirely the work of the
+employés of the firm.
+
+It was in a pâtisserie in the Rue de la Paroisse that we noticed an
+uninviting compound labelled "Pudding Anglais, 2 fr. 1/2 kilo." A little
+thought led us to recognise in this amalgamation a travesty of our old
+friend plum-pudding; but so revolting was its dark, bilious-looking
+exterior that we felt its claim to be accounted a compatriot almost
+insulting. And it was with secret gratification that towards the close
+of January we saw the same stolid, unhappy blocks awaiting purchasers.
+
+[Illustration: The Mill]
+
+The presence of the customary Tuesday market kept the streets busy till
+noon. But when the square was again empty of sellers and buyers
+Versailles relapsed into quietude. I wonder if any other town of its
+size is as silent as Versailles. There is little horse-traffic. Save for
+the weird, dirge-like drone of the electric cars, which seems in perfect
+consonance with the tone of sadness pervading the old town whose glory
+has departed, the clang of the wooden shoes on the rough pavement, and
+the infrequent beat of hoofs as a detachment of cavalry moves by,
+unnatural stillness seems to prevail.
+
+Of street music there was none, though once an old couple wailing a
+plaintive duet passed under our windows. Britain is not esteemed a
+melodious nation, yet the unclassical piano is ever with us, and even in
+the smallest provincial towns one is rarely out of hearing of the
+insistent note of some itinerant musician. And no matter how far one
+penetrates into the recesses of the country, he is always within reach
+of some bucolic rendering of the popular music-hall ditty of the year
+before last. But never during our stay in Versailles, a stay that
+included what is supposedly the gay time of the year, did we hear the
+sound of an instrument, or--with the one exception of the old couple,
+whom it would be rank flattery to term vocalists--the note of a voice
+raised in song.
+
+With us, New Year's Day was a quiet one. A dozen miles distant, Paris
+was welcoming the advent of the new century in a burst of feverish
+excitement. But despite temptations, we remained in drowsy Versailles,
+and spent several of the hours in the little room where two pallid
+Red-Cross knights, who were celebrating the occasion by sitting up for
+the first time, waited expectant of our coming as their one link with
+the outside world.
+
+[Illustration: The Presbytery]
+
+It was with a sincere thrill of pity that at _déjeûner_ we glanced round
+the _salle-à-manger_ and found all the Ogams filling their accustomed
+solitary places. Only Dunois the comparatively young, and presumably
+brave, was absent. The others occupied their usual seats, eating with
+their unfailing air of introspective absorption. Nobody had cared enough
+for these lonely old men to ask them to fill a corner at their tables,
+even on New Year's Day. To judge by their regular attendance at the
+hotel meals, these men--all of whom, as shown by their wearing the red
+ribbon of the Legion of Honour, had merited distinction--had little
+hospitality offered them. Most probably they offered as little, for,
+throughout our stay, none ever had a friend to share his breakfast or
+dinner.
+
+The bearing of the hotel guests suggested absolute ignorance of one
+another's existence. The Colonels, as I have said in a previous chapter,
+were exceptions, but even they held intercourse only without the hotel
+walls. Day after day, month after month, year after year as we were
+told, these men had fed together, yet we never saw them betray even the
+most cursory interest in one another. They entered and departed without
+revealing, by word or look, cognisance of another human being's
+presence. Could one imagine a dozen men of any other nationality thus
+maintaining the same indifference over even a short period? I hope
+future experience will prove me wrong, but in the meantime my former
+conception of the French as a nation overflowing with _bonhomie_ and
+_camaraderie_ is rudely shaken.
+
+The day of the year would have passed without anything to distinguish it
+from its fellows had not the proprietor, who, by the way, was a Swiss,
+endeavoured by sundry little attentions to reveal his goodwill. Oysters
+usurped the place of the customary _hors d'oeuvres_ at breakfast, and
+the meal ended with _café noir_ and cognac handed round by the
+deferential Iorson as being "offered by the proprietor," who, entering
+during the progress of the _déjeûner_, paid his personal respects to his
+_clientèle_.
+
+The afternoon brought us a charming discovery. We had a boy guest with
+us at luncheon, a lonely boy left at school when his few
+compatriots--save only the two Red-Cross prisoners--had gone home on
+holiday. The day was bright and balmy; and while strolling in the park
+beyond the Petit Trianon, we stumbled by accident upon the _hameau_, the
+little village of counterfeit rusticity wherein Marie Antoinette loved
+to play at country life.
+
+Following a squirrel that sported among the trees, we had strayed from
+the beaten track, when, through the leafless branches, we caught sight
+of roofs and houses and, wandering towards them, found ourselves by the
+side of a miniature lake, round whose margin were grouped the daintiest
+rural cottages that monarch could desire or Court architect design.
+
+History had told us of the creation of this unique plaything of the
+capricious Queen, but we had thought of it as a thing of the past, a toy
+whose fragile beauty had been wrecked by the rude blows of the
+Revolution. The matter-of-fact and unromantic Baedeker, it is true, gives
+it half a line. After devoting pages to the Château, its grounds,
+pictures, and statues, and detailing exhaustively the riches of the
+Trianons, he blandly mentions the gardens of the Petit Trianon as
+containing "some fine exotic trees, an artificial lake, a Temple of
+Love, and a hamlet where the Court ladies played at peasant life."
+
+It is doubtful whether ten out of every hundred tourists who, Baedeker
+in hand, wander conscientiously over the grand Château--Palace, alas! no
+longer--ever notice the concluding words, or, reading its lukewarm
+recommendation, deem the hamlet worthy of a visit. The Château is an
+immense building crammed with artistic achievements, and by the time the
+sightseer of ordinary capacity has seen a tenth of the pictures, a third
+of the sculpture, and a half of the fountains, his endurance, if not all
+his patience, is exhausted.
+
+I must acknowledge that we, too, had visited Versailles without
+discovering that the _hameau_ still existed; so to chance upon it in the
+sunset glow of that winter evening seemed to carry us back to the time
+when the storm-cloud of the Revolution was yet no larger than a man's
+hand; to the day when Louis XVI., making for once a graceful speech,
+presented the site to his wife, saying: "You love flowers. Ah! well, I
+have a bouquet for you--the Petit Trianon." And his Queen, weary of the
+restrictions of Court ceremony--though it must be admitted that the
+willful Marie Antoinette ever declined to be hampered by
+convention--experiencing in her residence in the little house freedom
+from etiquette, pursued the novel pleasure to its furthest by commanding
+the erection in its grounds of a village wherein she might the better
+indulge her newly fledged fancy for make-believe rusticity.
+
+About the pillars supporting the verandah-roof of the chief cottage and
+that of the wide balcony above, roses and vines twined lovingly. And
+though it was the first day of January, the rose foliage was yet green
+and bunches of shrivelled grapes clung to the vines. It was lovely then;
+yet a day or two later, when a heavy snowfall had cast a white mantle
+over the village, and the little lake was frozen hard, the scene seemed
+still more beautiful in its ghostly purity.
+
+At first sight there was no sign of decay about the long-deserted
+hamlet. The windows were closed, but had it been early morning, one
+could easily have imagined that the pseudo villagers were asleep behind
+the shuttered casements, and that soon the Queen, in some charming
+_déshabillé_, would come out to breathe the sweet morning air and to
+inhale the perfume of the climbing roses on the balcony overlooking the
+lake, wherein gold-fish darted to and fro among the water-lilies; or
+expect to see the King, from the steps of the little mill where he
+lodged, exchange blithe greetings with the maids of honour as they
+tripped gaily to the _laiterie_ to play at butter-making, or sauntered
+across the rustic bridge on their way to gather new-laid eggs at the
+farm.
+
+The sunset glamour had faded and the premature dusk of mid-winter was
+falling as, approaching nearer, we saw where the roof-thatch had
+decayed, where the insidious finger of Time had crumbled the stone
+walls. A chilly wind arising, moaned through the naked trees. The shadow
+of the guillotine seemed to brood oppressively over the scene, and,
+shuddering, we hastened away.
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: To the Place of Rest]
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+ICE-BOUND
+
+
+Even in the last days of December rosebuds had been trying to open on
+the standard bushes in the sheltered rose-garden of the Palace. But with
+the early nights of January a sudden frost seized the town in its icy
+grip, and, almost before we had time to realise the change of weather,
+pipes were frozen and hot-water bottles of strange design made their
+appearance in the upper corridors of the hotel. The naked cherubs in the
+park basins stood knee-deep in ice, skaters skimmed the smooth surface
+of the canal beyond the _tapis vert_, and in a twinkling Versailles
+became a town peopled by gnomes and brownies whose faces peeped quaintly
+from within conical hoods.
+
+Soldiers drew their cloak-hoods over their uniform caps. Postmen went
+their rounds thus snugly protected from the weather. The doddering old
+scavengers, plying their brooms among the great trees of the avenues,
+bore so strong a resemblance to the pixies who lurk in caves and woods,
+that we almost expected to see them vanish into some crevice in the
+gnarled roots of the trunks. Even the tiny acolytes trotting gravely in
+the funeral processions had their heads and shoulders shrouded in the
+prevailing hooded capes.
+
+[Illustration: While the Frost Holds]
+
+To us, accustomed though we were to an inclement winter climate, the
+chill seemed intense. So frigid was the atmosphere that the first step
+taken from the heated hotel hall into the outer air felt like putting
+one's face against an iceberg. All wraps of ordinary thickness appeared
+incapable of excluding the cold, and I sincerely envied the countless
+wearers of the dominant Capuchin cloaks.
+
+[Illustration: The Postman's Wrap]
+
+Our room was many-windowed, and no matter how high Karl piled the logs,
+nor how close we sat to the flames, our backs never felt really warm. It
+was only when night had fallen and the outside shutters were firmly
+closed that the thermometer suspended near the chimney-piece grudgingly
+consented to record temperate heat.
+
+[Illustration: A Lapful of Warmth]
+
+But there was at least one snug chamber in Versailles, and that was the
+room of the Red-Cross prisoners. However extravagant the degrees of
+frost registered without, the boys' sick-room was always pleasantly
+warm. How the good Soeur, who was on duty all day, managed to regulate
+the heat throughout the night-watches was her secret. A half-waking boy
+might catch a glimpse of her, apparently robed as by day, stealing out
+of the room; but so noiseless were her movements, that neither of the
+invalids ever saw her stealing in. They had a secret theory that in her
+own little apartment, which was just beyond theirs, the Soeur, garbed,
+hooded, and wearing rosary and the knotted rope of her Order, passed her
+nights in devotion. Certain it was that even the most glacial of
+weathers did not once avail to prevent her attending the Mass that was
+held at Notre Dame each morning before daybreak.
+
+[Illustration: The Daily Round]
+
+Frost-flowers dulled the inner glories of the shop windows with their
+unwelcome decoration. Even in the square on market mornings business
+flagged. The country folks, chilled by their cold drive to town,
+cowered, muffled in thick wraps, over their little charcoal stoves,
+lacking energy to call attention to their wares. The sage with the
+onions was absent, but the pretty girl in the red hood held her
+accustomed place, warming mittened fingers at a chaufferette which she
+held on her lap. The only person who gave no outward sign of misery was
+the boulangère who, harnessed to her heavy hand-cart, toiled
+unflinchingly on her rounds.
+
+In the streets the comely little _bourgeoises_ hid their plump shoulders
+under ugly black knitted capes, and concealed their neat hands in clumsy
+worsted gloves. But despite the rigour of the atmosphere their heads,
+with the hair neatly dressed _à la Chinoise_, remained uncovered. It
+struck our unaccustomed eyes oddly to see these girls thus exposed,
+standing on the pavement in the teeth of some icy blast, talking to
+stalwart soldier friends, whose noses were their only visible feature.
+
+[Illustration: Three Babes and a Bonne]
+
+The ladies of Versailles give a thought to their waists, but they leave
+their ankles to Providence, and any one having experience of Versailles
+winter streets can fully sympathise with their trust; for even in dry
+sunny weather mud seems a spontaneous production that renders goloshes a
+necessity. And when frost holds the high-standing city in its frigid
+grasp the extreme cold forbids any idea of coquetry, and thickly lined
+boots with cloth uppers--a species of foot-gear that in grace of outline
+is decidedly suggestive of "arctics"--become the only comfortable wear.
+
+[Illustration: Snow in the Park]
+
+After a few days of thought-congealing cold--a cold so intense that
+sundry country people who had left their homes before dawn to drive into
+Paris with farm produce were taken dead from their market-carts at the
+end of the journey--the weather mercifully changed. A heavy snowfall now
+tempered the inclement air, and turned the leafless park into a fairy
+vision.
+
+The nights were still cold, but during the day the sun glinted warmly on
+the frozen waters of the gilded fountains and sparkled on the facets of
+the crisp snow. The marble benches in the sheltered nooks of the snug
+Château gardens were occupied by little groups, which usually consisted
+of a _bonne_ and a baby, or of a chevalier and a hopelessly unclassable
+dog; for the dogs of Versailles belong to breeds that no man living
+could classify, the most prevalent type in clumsiness of contour and
+astonishing shagginess of coat resembling nothing more natural than
+those human travesties of the canine race familiar to us in pantomime.
+
+Along the snow-covered paths under the leafless trees, on whose branches
+close-wreathed mistletoe hangs like rooks' nests, the statues stood like
+guardian angels of the scene. They had lost their air of aloofness and
+were at one with the white earth, just as the forest trees in their
+autumn dress of brown and russet appear more in unison with their parent
+soil than when decked in their bravery of summer greenery.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+THE HAUNTED CHATEAU
+
+
+[Illustration: A Veteran of the Chateau]
+
+The Château of Versailles, like the town, dozes through the winter, only
+half awakening on Sunday afternoons when the townsfolk make it their
+meeting-place. Then conscripts, in clumsy, ill-fitting uniforms, tread
+noisily over the shining _parqueterie_ floors, and burgesses gossip
+amicably in the dazzling _Galerie des Glaces_, where each morning
+courtiers were wont to await the uprising of their king. But on the
+weekdays visitors are of the rarest. Sometimes a few half-frozen people
+who have rashly automobiled thither from Paris alight at the Château
+gates, and take a hurried walk through the empty galleries to restore
+the circulation to their stiffened limbs before venturing to set forth
+on the return journey.
+
+Every weekday in the Place d'Armes, squads of conscripts are busily
+drilling, running hither and thither with unflagging energy, and the air
+resounds with the hoarse staccato cries of "Un! Deux! Trois!" wherewith
+they accompany their movements, cries that, heard from a short distance,
+exactly resemble the harsh barking of a legion of dogs.
+
+[Illustration: Un--Deux--Trois]
+
+Within the gates there is a sense of leisure: even the officials have
+ceased to anticipate visitors. In the _Cour Royale_ two little girls
+have cajoled an old guide into playing a game of ball. A custodian dozes
+by the great log fire in the bedroom of Louis XIV., where the warm
+firelight playing on the rich trappings lends such an air of occupation
+to the chamber, that--forgetting how time has turned to grey the once
+white ostrich plumes adorning the canopy of the bed, and that the
+priceless lace coverlet would probably fall to pieces at a touch--one
+almost expects the door to open for the entrance of Louis le Grand
+himself.
+
+To this room he came when he built the Palace wherein to hide from that
+grim summons with which the tower of the Royal sepulture of St. Denis,
+visible from his former residence, seemed to threaten him. And here it
+was that Death, after long seeking, found him. We can see the little
+great-grandson who was to succeed, lifted on to the bed of the dying
+monarch.
+
+[Illustration: The Bedchamber of Louis XIV]
+
+"What is your name, my child?" asks the King.
+
+"Louis XV;" replies the infant, taking brevet-rank. And nearly sixty
+years later we see the child, his wasted life at an end, dying of
+virulent smallpox under the same roof, deserted by all save his devoted
+daughters.
+
+To me the Palace of Versailles is peopled by the ghosts of many women. A
+few of them are dowdy and good, but by far the greater number are
+graceful and wicked. How infinitely easier it is to make a good bad
+reputation than to achieve even a bad good one! "Tell us stories about
+naughty children," we used to beseech our nurses. And as our years
+increase we still yawn over the doings of the righteous, while our
+interest in the ways of transgressors only strengthens.
+
+We all know by heart the romantic lives of the shrinking La Vallière, of
+Madame de Montespan the impassioned, of sleek Madame de Maintenon--the
+trio of beauties honoured by the admiration of Louis le Grand; and of
+the bevy of favourites of Louis XV, the three fair and short-lived
+sisters de Mailly-Nesle, the frail Pompadour who mingled scheming with
+debauchery, and the fascinating but irresponsible Du Barry. Even the most
+minute details of Marie Antoinette's tragic career are fresh in our
+memories, but which of us can remember the part in the history of France
+played by Marie Leczinska? Yet, apart from her claim to notability as
+having been the last queen who ended her days on the French throne, her
+story is full of romantic interest.
+
+Thrusting aside the flimsy veil of Time, we find Marie Leczinska the
+penniless daughter of an exiled Polish king who is living in retirement
+in a dilapidated commandatory at a little town in Alsace. It is easy to
+picture the shabby room wherein the unforeseeing Marie sits content
+between her mother and grandmother, all three diligently broidering
+altar cloths. Upon the peaceful scene the father enters, overcome by
+emotion, trembling. His face announces great news, before he can school
+his voice to speak.
+
+"Why, father! Have you been recalled to the throne of Poland?" asks
+Marie, and the naïve question reveals that many years of banishment have
+not quenched in the hearts of the exiles the hope of a return to their
+beloved Poland.
+
+"No, my daughter, but you are to be Queen of France," replies the
+father. "Let us thank God."
+
+[Illustration: Marie Leczinska]
+
+Knowing the sequel, one wonders if it was for a blessing or a curse that
+the refugees, kneeling in that meagre room in the old house at
+Wissenberg, returned thanks.
+
+Certain it is that the ministers of the boy-monarch were actuated more
+by a craving to further their own ends than either by the desire to
+please God or to honour their King, in selecting this obscure maiden
+from the list of ninety-nine marriageable princesses that had been drawn
+up at Versailles. A dowerless damsel possessed of no influential
+relatives is not in a position to be exacting, and, whate'er befell,
+poor outlawed Stanislas Poniatowski could not have taken up arms in
+defence of his daughter.
+
+Having a sincere regard for unaffected Marie Leczinska, I regret being
+obliged to admit that, even in youth, "comely" was the most effusive
+adjective that could veraciously be awarded her. And it is only in the
+lowest of whispers that I will admit that she was seven years older than
+her handsome husband, whose years did not then number seventeen. Yet is
+there indubitable charm in the simple grace wherewith Marie accepted her
+marvellous transformation from pauper to queen. She disarmed criticism
+by refusing to conceal her former poverty. "This is the first time in my
+life I have been able to make presents," she frankly told the ladies of
+the Court, as she distributed among them her newly got trinkets.
+
+It is pleasant to remember that the early years of her wedded life
+passed harmoniously. Louis, though never passionately enamoured of his
+wife, yet loved her with the warm affection a young man bestows on the
+first woman he has possessed. And that Marie was wholly content there is
+little doubt. She was no gadabout. Versailles satisfied her. Three years
+passed before she visited Paris, and then the visit was more of the
+nature of a pilgrimage than of a State progress. Twin daughters had
+blessed the union, and the Queen journeyed to the churches of Notre Dame
+and Saint Geneviève to crave from Heaven the boon of a Dauphin: a prayer
+which a year later was answered.
+
+But clouds were gathering apace. As he grew into manhood the domestic
+virtues palled upon Louis. He tired of the needlework which, doubtless,
+Marie's skilled hands had taught him. We recall how, sitting between her
+mother and grandmother, the future Queen had broidered altar cloths.
+Marie Leczinska was an adoring mother; possibly her devotion to their
+rapidly increasing family wearied him. Being little more than a child
+himself, the King is scarcely likely to have found the infantile society
+so engaging as did the mother. Thus began that series of foolish
+infidelities that, characterised by extreme timidity and secrecy at
+first, was latterly flaunted in the face of the world.
+
+Marie's life was not a smooth one, but it was happier than that of her
+Royal spouse. To me there is nothing sadder, nothing more sordid in
+history, than the feeble, useless existence of Louis XV., whose early
+years promised so well. It is pitiful to look at the magnificent
+portrait, still hanging in the palace where he reigned, of the
+child-king seated in his robes of State, the sceptre in his hand,
+looking with eyes of innocent wonder into the future, then to think upon
+the depth of degradation reached by the once revered Monarch before his
+body was dragged in dishonour and darkness to its last resting-place.
+
+[Illustration: Madame Adelaide]
+
+Pleasanter figures that haunt the Château are those of the six pretty
+daughters of Louis and Marie Leczinska. There are the ill-starred twins,
+Elizabeth and Henrietta: Madame Elizabeth, who never lost the love of
+her old home, and, though married, before entering her teens, to the
+Infanta of Spain, retired, after a life of disappointment, to her
+beloved Versailles to die; and the gentle Henrietta who, cherishing an
+unlucky passion for the young Duc de Chartres, pined quietly away after
+witnessing her lover wed to another.
+
+Then there is Adelaide, whom Nattier loved to paint, portraying her
+sometimes as a lightly clad goddess, sometimes sitting demurely in a
+pretty frock. Good Nattier! there is a later portrait of himself in
+complacent middle age surrounded by his wife and children; but I like to
+think that, when he spent so many days at the Palace painting the young
+Princess, some tenderer influence than mere artistic skill lent cunning
+to his brush.
+
+When the daughters of Louis XV. were sent to be educated at a convent,
+Adelaide it was who, by tearful protest to her royal father, gained
+permission to remain at the Palace while her sisters meekly endured
+their banishment. From this instance of childish character one would
+have anticipated a career for Madame Adelaide, and I hate being obliged
+to think of her merely developing into one of the three spinster aunts
+of Louis XVI. who, residing under the same roof, turned coldly
+disapproving eyes upon the manifold frailties of their niece, Marie
+Antoinette.
+
+The sisters Victoire and Sophie are faint shades leaving no impression
+on the memory; but there is another spirit, clad in the sombre garb of a
+Carmelite nun, who, standing aloof, looks with the calm eyes of peace on
+the motley throng. It is Louise, the youngest sister of all, who, deeply
+grieved by her father's infatuation for the Du Barry--an infatuation
+which, beginning within a month of Marie Leczinska's decease, ended only
+when on his deathbed the dying Monarch prepared to receive absolution by
+bidding his inamorata farewell--resolved to flee her profligate
+surroundings and devote her life to holiness.
+
+It is affecting to think of the gentle Louise, secretly anticipating the
+rigours of convent life, torturing her delicate skin by wearing coarse
+serge, and burning tallow candles in her chamber to accustom herself to
+their detestable odour.
+
+Her father's consent gained, Louise still tarried at Versailles. Perhaps
+the King's daughter shrank from voluntarily beginning a life of
+imprisoned drudgery. We know that at this period she passed many hours
+reading contemporary history, knowing that, once within the convent
+walls, the study of none but sacred literature would be permitted.
+
+Then came an April morning when Louise, who had kept her intention
+secret from all save her father, left the Palace never to return.
+France, in a state of joyous excitement, was eagerly anticipating the
+arrival of Marie Antoinette, who was setting forth on the first stage of
+that triumphal journey which had so tragic an ending. Already the gay
+clamour of wedding-bells filled the air; and Louise may have feared
+that, did she linger at Versailles, the enticing vanities of the world
+might change the current of her thoughts.
+
+Chief among the impalpable throng that people the state galleries is
+Marie Antoinette, and her spirit shows us many faces. It is charming,
+haughty, considerate, headstrong, frivolous, thoughtful, degraded,
+dignified, in quick succession. We see her arrive at the Palace amid the
+tumultuous adoration of the crowd, and leave amidst its execrations.
+Sometimes she is richly apparelled, as befits a queen; anon she sports
+the motley trappings of a mountebank. The courtyard that saw the
+departure of Madame Louise witnesses Marie Antoinette, returning at
+daybreak in company with her brother-in-law from some festivity
+unbecoming a queen, refused admittance by the King's express command.
+
+[Illustration: Louis Quatorze]
+
+Many of the attendant spirits who haunt Marie Antoinette's ghostly
+footsteps as they haunted her earthly ones are malefic. Most are women,
+and all are young and fair. There is Madame Roland, who, taken as a
+young girl to the Palace to peep at the Royalties, became imbued by that
+jealous hatred which only the Queen's death could appease.
+
+"If I stay here much longer," she told that kindly mother who sought to
+give her a treat by showing her Court life, "I shall detest these people
+so much that I shall be unable to hide my hatred."
+
+It is easy to fancy the girl's evil face scowling at the unconscious
+Queen, before she leaves to pen those inflammatory pamphlets which are
+to prove the Sovereign's undoing and her own. For by some whim of fate
+Madame Roland was executed on the very scaffold to which her envenomed
+writings had driven Marie Antoinette.
+
+A spectre that impresses as wearing rags under a gorgeous robe, lurks
+among the foliage of the quiet _bosquet_ beyond the orangerie. It is the
+infamous Madame de la Motte, chief of adventuresses, and it was in that
+secluded grove that her tool, Cardinal de Rohan, had his pretended
+interview with the Queen. Poor, perfidious Contesse! what an existence
+of alternate beggarly poverty and beggarly riches was hers before that
+last scene of all when she lay broken and bruised almost beyond human
+semblance in that dingy London courtyard beneath the window from which,
+in a mad attempt to escape arrest, she had thrown herself.
+
+Through the Royal salons flits a presence whereat the shades of the
+Royal Princesses look askance: that of the frolicsome, good-natured,
+irresponsible Du Barry. A soulless ephemera she, with no ambitions or
+aspirations, save that, having quitted the grub stage, she desires to be
+as brilliant a butterfly as possible. Close in attendance on her moves
+an ebon shadow--Zamora, the ingrate foundling who, reared by the
+Duchesse, swore that he would make his benefactress ascend the scaffold,
+and kept his oath. For our last sight of the prodigal, warm-hearted Du
+Barry, plaything of the aged King, is on the guillotine, where in
+agonies of terror she fruitlessly appeals to her executioner's clemency.
+
+But of all the bygone dames who haunt the grand Château, the only one I
+detest is probably the most irreproachable of all--Madame de Maintenon.
+There is something so repulsively sanctimonious in her aspect, something
+so crafty in the method wherewith, under the cloak of religion, she
+wormed her way into high places, ousting--always in the name of
+propriety--those who had helped her. Her stepping-stone to Royal favour
+was handsome, impetuous Madame de Montespan, who, taking compassion on
+her widowed poverty, appointed Madame Scarron, as she then was,
+governess of her children, only to find her _protégée_ usurp her place
+both in the honours of the King and in the affections of their children.
+
+The natural heart rebels against the "unco guid," and Madame de
+Maintenon, with her smooth expression, double chin, sober garments and
+ever-present symbols of piety, revolts me. I know it is wrong. I know
+that historians laud her for the wholesome influence she exercised upon
+the mind of a king who had grown timorous with years; that the dying
+Queen declared that she owed the King's kindness to her during the last
+twenty years of her life entirely to Madame de Maintenon. But we know
+also that six months after the Queen's death an unwonted light showed at
+midnight in the Chapel Royal, where Madame de Maintenon--the child of a
+prison cell--was becoming the legal though unacknowledged wife of Louis
+XIV. The impassioned, uncalculating de Montespan had given the handsome
+Monarch her all without stipulation. Truly the career of Madame de
+Maintenon was a triumph of virtue over vice; and yet of all that
+heedless, wanton throng, my soul detests only her.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Where the Queen Played]
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+MARIE ANTOINETTE
+
+
+Stereotyped sights are rarely the most engrossing. At the Palace of
+Versailles the _petits appartements de la Reine_, those tiny rooms whose
+grey old-world furniture might have been in use yesterday, to me hold
+more actuality than all the regal salons in whose vast emptiness
+footsteps reverberate like echoes from the past.
+
+In the pretty sitting-room the coverings to-day are a reproduction of
+the same pale blue satin that draped the furniture in the days when
+queens preferred the snug seclusion of those dainty rooms overlooking
+the dank inner courtyard to the frigid grandeur of their State chambers.
+Therein it was that Marie Leczinska was wont to instruct her young
+daughters in the virtues as she had known them in her girlhood's
+thread-bare home, not as her residence at the profligate French Court
+had taught her to understand them.
+
+[Illustration: Marie Antoinette]
+
+The heavy gilt bolts bearing the interlaced initials M.A. remind us that
+these, too, were the favourite rooms of Marie Antoinette, and that in
+all probability the cunningly entwined bolts were the handiwork of her
+honest spouse, who wrought at his blacksmith forge below while his wife
+flirted above. But in truth the _petits appartements_ are instinct with
+memories of Marie Antoinette, and it is difficult to think of any save
+only her occupying them. The beautiful _coffre_ presented to her with
+the layette of the Dauphin still stands on a table in an adjoining
+chamber, and the paintings on its white silk casing are scarcely faded
+yet, though the decorative ruching of green silk leaves has long ago
+fallen into decay.
+
+A step farther is the little white and gold boudoir which still holds
+the mirror that gave the haughty Queen her first premonition of the
+catastrophe that awaited her. Viewed casually the triple mirror, lining
+an alcove wherein stands a couch garlanded with flowers, betrays no
+sinister qualities. But any visitor who approaches looking at his
+reflection where at the left the side panels meet the angle of the wall,
+will be greeted by a sight similar to that whose tragic suggestion made
+even the haughty Queen pause a moment in her reckless career. For in the
+innocent appearing mirrors the gazer is reflected without a head.
+
+It was through this liliputian suite, this strip of homeliness so
+artfully introduced into a palace, that Marie Antoinette fled on that
+fateful August morning when the mob of infuriated women invaded the
+Château.
+
+Knowing this, I was puzzling over the transparent fact that either of
+the apparent exits would have led her directly into the hands of the
+enemy, when the idea of a secret staircase suggested itself. A little
+judicious inquiry elicited the information that one did exist. "But it
+is not seen. It is locked. To view it, an order from the
+Commissary--that is necessary," explained the old guide.
+
+To know that a secret staircase, and one of such vivid historical
+importance, was at hand, and not to have seen it would have been too
+tantalising. The "Commissary" was an unknown quantity, and for a space
+it seemed as though our desire would be ungratified. Happily the
+knowledge of our interest awoke a kindly reciprocity in our guide, who,
+hurrying off, quickly returned with the venerable custodian of the key.
+A moment later, the unobtrusive panel that concealed the exit flew open
+at its touch, and the secret staircase, dark, narrow, and hoary with the
+dust of years, lay before us.
+
+[Illustration: The Secret Stair]
+
+Many must have been the romantic meetings aided by those diminutive
+steps, but, peering into their shadows, we saw nothing but a vision of
+Marie Antoinette, half clad in dishevelled wrappings of petticoat and
+shawl, flying distracted from the vengeance of the furies through the
+refuge of the low-roofed stairway.
+
+In my ingenuous youth, when studying French history, I evolved a theory
+which seemed, to myself at least, to account satisfactorily for the
+radical differences distinguishing Louis XVI. from his brothers and
+antecedents. Finding that, when a delicate infant, he had been sent to
+the country to nurse, I rushed to the conclusion that the royal infant
+had died, and that his foster-mother, fearful of the consequences, had
+substituted a child of her own in his place. The literature of the
+nursery is full of instances that seemed to suggest the probability of
+my conjecture being correct.
+
+As a youth, Louis had proved himself both awkward and clumsy. He was
+loutish, silent in company, ill at ease in his princely surroundings,
+and in all respects unlike his younger brothers. He was honest, sincere,
+pious, a faithful husband, a devoted father; amply endowed, indeed, with
+the middle-class virtues which at that period were but rarely found in
+palaces. To my childish reasoning the most convincing proof lay in his
+innate craving for physical labour; a craving that no ridicule could
+dispel.
+
+With the romantic enthusiasm of youth, I used to fancy the peasant
+mother stealing into the Palace among the spectators who daily were
+permitted to view the royal couple at dinner, and imagine her, having
+seen the King, depart glorying secretly in the strategy that had raised
+her son to so high an estate. There was another picture, in whose
+dramatic misery I used to revel. It showed the unknown mother, who had
+discovered that by her own act she had condemned her innocent son to
+suffer for the sins of past generations of royal profligates, journeying
+to Paris (in my dreams she always wore sabots and walked the entire
+distance in a state of extreme physical exhaustion) with the intention
+of preventing his execution by declaring his lowly parentage to the mob.
+The final tableau revealed her, footsore and weary, reaching within
+sight of the guillotine just in time to see the executioner holding up
+her son's severed head. I think my imaginary heroine died of a broken
+heart at this juncture, a catastrophe that would naturally account for
+her secret dying with her.
+
+[Illustration: Madame Sans Tête]
+
+During our winter stay at Versailles, my childish phantasies recurred to
+me, and I almost found them feasible. What an amazing irony of fate it
+would have shown had a son of the soil expired to expiate the crimes of
+sovereigns!
+
+But more pitiful by far than the saddest of illusions is the sordid
+reality of a scene indelibly imprinted on my mental vision. Memory takes
+me back to the twilight of a spring Sunday several years ago, when in
+the wake of a cluster of market folks we wandered into the old Cathedral
+of St. Denis. Deep in the sombre shadows of the crypt a light gleamed
+faintly through a narrow slit in the stone wall. Approaching, we looked
+into a gloomy vault wherein, just visible by the ray of a solitary
+candle, lay two zinc coffins.
+
+Earth holds no more dismal sepulchre than that dark vault, through the
+crevice in whose wall the blue-bloused marketers cast curious glances.
+Yet within these grim coffins lie two bodies with their severed heads,
+all that remains mortal of the haughty Marie Antoinette and other humble
+spouse.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Illumination]
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+THE PRISONERS RELEASED
+
+
+The first dread days, when the Boy, heavy with fever, seemed scarcely to
+realise our presence, were swiftly followed by placid hours when he lay
+and smiled in blissful content, craving nothing, now that we were all
+together again. But this state of beatitude was quickly ousted by a
+period of discontent, when the hunger fiend reigned supreme in the
+little room.
+
+"_Manger, manger, manger, tout le temps!"_ Thus the nurse epitomised the
+converse of her charges. And indeed she was right, for, from morning
+till night, the prisoners' solitary topic of conversation was food.
+During the first ten days their diet consisted solely of boiled milk,
+and as that time wore to a close the number of quarts consumed increased
+daily, until Paul, the chief porter, seemed ever ascending the little
+outside stair carrying full bottles of milk, or descending laden with
+empty ones.
+
+"Milk doesn't count. When shall we be allowed food, _real_ food?" was
+the constant cry, and their relief was abounding when, on Christmas Day,
+the doctor withdrew his prohibition, and permitted an approach to the
+desired solids. But even then the prisoners, to their loudly voiced
+disappointment, discovered that their only choice lay between vermicelli
+and tapioca, nursery dishes which at home they would have despised.
+
+"_Tapioca!_ Imagine tapioca for a Christmas dinner!" the invalids
+exclaimed with disgust. But that scorn did not prevent them devouring
+the mess and eagerly demanding more. And thereafter the saucepan
+simmering over the gas-jet in the outer room seemed ever full of savoury
+spoon-meat.
+
+I doubt if any zealous mother-bird ever had a busier time feeding her
+fledglings than had the good Sister in satisfying the appetites of these
+callow cormorants. To witness the French nun seeking to allay the hunger
+of these voracious schoolboy aliens was to picture a wren trying to fill
+the ever-gaping beaks of two young cuckoos whom an adverse fate had
+dropped into her nest.
+
+As the days wore by, the embargo placed upon our desire to cater for the
+invalids was gradually lifted, and little things such as sponge biscuits
+and pears crept in to vary the monotony of the milk diet.
+
+New Year's Day held a tangible excitement, for that morning saw a
+modified return to ordinary food, and, in place of bottles of milk,
+Paul's load consisted of such tempting selections from the school meals
+as were deemed desirable for the invalids. Poultry not being included in
+the school menus, we raided a cooked-provision shop and carried off a
+plump, well-browned chicken. The approbation which met this venture
+resulted in our supplying a succession of _poulettes_, which, at the
+invalids' express desire, were smuggled into their room under my cloak.
+Not that there was the most remote necessity for concealment, but the
+invalids, whose sole interest centred in food, laboured under the absurd
+idea that, did the authorities know they were being supplied from
+without, their regular meals would be curtailed to prevent them
+over-eating.
+
+The point of interest, for the Red-Cross prisoners at least, in our
+morning visits lay in the unveiling of the eatables we had brought.
+School food, however well arranged, is necessarily stereotyped, and the
+element of the unknown ever lurked in our packages. The sugar-sticks,
+chocolates, fruit, little cakes, or what we had chanced to bring, were
+carefully examined, criticised, and promptly devoured.
+
+A slight refreshment was served them during our short stay, and when we
+departed we left them eagerly anticipating luncheon. At gloaming, when
+we returned, it was to find them busy with half-yards of the long crusty
+loaves, plates of jelly, and tumblers, filled with milk on our Boy's
+part, and with well diluted wine on that of his fellow sufferer.
+
+Fear of starvation being momentarily averted, the Soeur used to light
+fresh candles around the tiny Holy _Bébé_ on the still green
+Christmas-tree, and for a space we sat quietly enjoying the radiance.
+But by the time the last candle had flickered out, and the glow of a
+commonplace paraffin lamp lighted the gloom, nature again demanded
+nourishment; and we bade the prisoners farewell for the night, happy in
+the knowledge that supper, sleep, and breakfast would pleasantly while
+away the hours till our return.
+
+The elder Red-Cross knight was a tall, good-looking lad of sixteen, the
+age when a boy wears painfully high collars, shaves surreptitiously--and
+unnecessarily--with his pen-knife, talks to his juniors about the
+tobacco he smokes in a week, and cherishes an undying passion for a
+maiden older than himself. He was ever an interesting study, though I do
+not think I really loved him until he confided his affairs of the heart,
+and entrusted me with the writing of his love-letters. I know that
+behind my back he invariably referred to me as "Ma"; but as he openly
+addressed the unconscious nun as "you giddy old girl," "Ma" might almost
+be termed respectful, and I think our regard was mutual.
+
+All things come to him who waits. There came a night when for the last
+time we sat together around the little tree, watching the Soeur light the
+candles that illuminated the Holy _Bébé_. On the morrow the prisoners,
+carefully disinfected, and bearing the order of their release in the
+form of a medical certificate, would be set free.
+
+It clouded our gladness to know that before the patient Sister stretched
+another period of isolation. Just that day another pupil had developed
+scarlet fever, and only awaited our boys' departure to occupy the little
+room. Hearing that this fresh prisoner lay under sentence of durance
+vile, we suggested that all the toys--chiefly remnants of shattered
+armies that, on hearing of the Boy's illness, we had brought from the
+home playroom he had outgrown--might be left for him instead of being
+sent away to be burnt.
+
+The Boy's bright face dulled. "If it had been anybody else! But, mother,
+I don't think you know that he is the one French boy we disliked. It was
+he who always shouted '_à bas les Anglais!_' in the playground."
+
+The reflection that for weary weeks this obnoxious boy would be the only
+inmate of the _boîte_, as the invalids delighted to call their
+sick-room, overcame his antipathetic feeling, and he softened so far as
+to indite a polite little French note offering his late enemy his
+sympathy, and formally bequeathing to him the reversion of his toys,
+including the _arbre de Noël_ with all its decorations, except the
+little waxen Jesus nestling in the manger of yellow corn; the Soeur had
+already declared her intention of preserving that among her treasures.
+
+The time that had opened so gloomily had passed, and now that it was
+over we could look back upon many happy hours spent within the dingy
+prison walls. And our thoughts were in unison, for the Boy, abruptly
+breaking the silence, said: "And after all, it hasn't been such a bad
+time. Do you know, I really think I've rather enjoyed it!"
+
+
+
+
+L'ENVOI
+
+
+[Illustration: L'Envoi]
+
+Heavy skies lowered above us, the landscape seen through the driving
+mist-wreaths showed a depressing repetition of drabs and greys as we
+journeyed towards Calais. But, snugly ensconced in the _train rapide_,
+our hearts beat high with joy, for at last were we homeward bound. The
+weeks of exile in the stately old town had ended. For the last time the
+good Sister had lit us down the worn stone steps. As we sped seawards
+across the bleak country, our thoughts flew back to her, and to the
+little room with the red cross on its casement, wherein, although our
+prisoners were released, another term of nursing had already begun for
+her. In contrast with her life of cheerful self-abnegation, ours seemed
+selfish, meaningless, and empty.
+
+Dear nameless Sister! She had been an angel of mercy to us in a
+troublous time, and though our earthly paths may never again cross, our
+hearts will ever hold her memory sacred.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+_By the same Author_
+
+OUR STOLEN SUMMER
+
+THE RECORD OF A ROUNDABOUT TOUR
+
+BY
+
+MARY STUART BOYD
+
+WITH ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY SKETCHES BY A.S. BOYD
+
+_Extracts from Reviews_
+
+THE WORLD.--"To be able to go round the world nowadays, and write a
+descriptive record of the tour that is vivid and fresh is a positive
+literary feat. It has been successfully accomplished in _Our Stolen
+Summer_ by Mrs. Boyd, who with no ulterior object in making a book
+journeyed over four continents in company with her husband, and picked
+up _en route_ matter for one of the pleasantest, most humorous, and
+least pretentious books of travel we have read for many a day. It is
+admirably illustrated by Mr. A.S. Boyd, whose sense of humour happily
+matches that of his observant wife, and the reader who can lay aside
+this picturesque and truly delightful volume without sincere regret must
+have a dull and dreary mind."
+
+PUNCH.--"_Our Stolen Summer_ is calculated to lead to wholesale breakage
+of the Eighth Commandment. Certainly, my Baronite, reading the
+fascinating record of a roundabout tour, feels prompted to steal away.
+Mary Stuart Boyd, who pens the record, has the great advantage of the
+collaboration of A.S.B., whose signature is familiar in _Mr. Punch's_
+Picture Gallery.... A charming book."
+
+SPECTATOR.--"The writer, by the help of a ready pen and of the pencil of
+a skilful illustrator, has given us in this handsome volume a number of
+attractive pictures of distant places.... It is good to read and
+pleasant to look at."
+
+TRUTH.--"You will find no pleasanter holiday reading than _Our Stolen
+Summer_."
+
+ACADEMY.--"A fresh record, and worth the reading. Of such is Mrs. Boyd's
+volume, which her husband has illustrated profusely with spirited line
+drawings."
+
+FIELD.--"One of the brightest books of travel that it has been our good
+fortune to read. The illustrations deserve a notice to themselves. They
+are far and away better than those which we usually get in books of this
+kind, and we do not know that we can bestow higher praise on them than
+to say that they are worthy of the letterpress which they illustrate."
+
+LAND AND WATER.--"A delightful sketch of a delightful journey.... _Our
+Stolen Summer_ is a book which will be read with equal delight on a lazy
+summer holiday, or in the heart of London when the streets are enveloped
+in fog and the rain is beating against the window panes. Mr. Boyd's
+sketches are simply admirable."
+
+SPHERE.--"A delightful record of travel. Mrs. Boyd is never dull, and
+there is plenty of acute observation throughout her pleasant story of
+travel. My Boyd's illustrations which appear on practically every page,
+are, it need scarcely be said, up to the high level that is already
+familiar to students of his black-and-white work."
+
+LADIES' FIELD.--"A singularly delightful and unaffected book of travel."
+
+MADAME.--"One of the most delightful books of travel it has been our
+good fortune to read."
+
+MORNING POST.--"If the encouragement of globe-trotting be a virtuous
+action, then certainly Mrs. Stuart Boyd has deserved well of her
+country. To read her book is to conceive an insensate desire to be off
+and away on 'the long trail' at all hazards and at all costs.... Mr.
+Boyd's illustrations add greatly to the interest and charm of the book.
+There is movement, atmosphere, and sunshine in them."
+
+STANDARD.--"Mrs. Boyd went with her husband round the world, and the
+latter--an artist with a sense of humour--kept his hand in practice by
+making droll sketches of people encountered by the way, which heighten
+the charm of his wife's vivacious description of a _Stolen Summer_. Mrs.
+Boyd has quick eyes and an open mind, and writes with sense and
+sensibility."
+
+DAILY TELEGRAPH.--"It is not so much what Mrs. Boyd has to tell as the
+invariable good humour and brightness with which she records even the
+most familiar things that makes the charm of her excellent diary."
+
+DAILY CHRONICLE.--"Mrs. Boyd has written the log with sparkle and
+observation--seeing many things that the mere man-traveller would miss.
+Mr. Boyd's sketches are, of course, excellent."
+
+PALL MALL GAZETTE.--"Mrs. Boyd writes with so much buoyancy, and her
+humour is so unexpected and unfailing, that it is safe to say that there
+is not a dull page from first to last in this record of a tour round the
+world... Mr. A.S. Boyd's numerous illustrations show him at his very
+best."
+
+GLOBE.--"A work to acquire as well as to peruse."
+
+WESTMINSTER GAZETTE.--"The narrative from beginning to end does not
+contain a dull page. Of Mr. Boyd's numerous sketches it is only
+necessary to say that they are excellent. Altogether _Our Stolen Summer_
+will be found to be one of the most fascinating of recent books of
+travel."
+
+SUNDAY TIMES.--"Brilliantly and entertainingly written, and liberally
+illustrated by an acknowledged master of the art of black and white."
+
+SCOTSMAN.--"A beautiful and fascinating book.... Pen and pencil sketches
+alike have grace, nerve, and humour, and are alive with human interest
+and observation."
+
+GLASGOW HERALD.--"One of the most delightful travel-books of recent
+times.... Mrs. Boyd's volume must commend itself to people who
+contemplate visiting the other side of the globe and to all stay-at-home
+travellers as well."
+
+DAILY FREE PRESS.--"Mrs. Boyd is an admirable descriptive
+writer--observant, humorous, and sympathetic. Without illustrations,
+_Our Stolen Summer_ would be a notable addition to the literature of
+travel; with Mr. Boyd's collaboration it is almost unique."
+
+LEEDS MERCURY.--"Vivacious and diverting record."
+
+YORKSHIRE DAILY POST.--"For such a book there could be nothing but
+praise if one wrote columns about it."
+
+BIRMINGHAM DAILY POST.--"A singularly happy and interesting record of a
+most enjoyable tour."
+
+NORTHERN WHIG.--"Shrewdness of observation, with not a little humour and
+a real literary gift, mark the story of _Our Stolen Summer_."
+
+THE BOOKMAN.--"Mrs. Boyd writes with so much brightness, such vivacity
+and picturesqueness of style, that although the volume runs to close
+upon four hundred pages there is not a dull page among them. The success
+of _Our Stolen Summer_, however, is due as much to the artist as to the
+author; and praise must be equally divided. Mr. Boyd's sketches are
+spirited, clever, full of humour and sympathetic observation. Without a
+word of letter-press they would have formed an excellent travel-book;
+taken in conjunction with Mrs. Boyd's narrative they are irresistible."
+
+
+
+
+LONDON AND EDINBURGH: WILLIAM BLACKWOOD & SONS
+
+Illustrated by A.S. Boyd
+
+A LOWDEN SABBATH MORN
+
+BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON
+
+WITH TWENTY-SEVEN PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS BY A.S. BOYD
+
+_Extracts from Reviews_
+
+THE TIMES.--"The characters whom Stevenson had in his mind's eye are all
+cleverly pictured, and the drawings may be truthfully said to illustrate
+the writer's ideas--a quality that seldom resides in illustrations....
+All are faithfully presented as only one who has known them intimately
+could present them.... Mr. Boyd's talent for black-and-white work has
+never found happier expression."
+
+MORNING POST.--"It is impossible to imagine anything more likely to
+appeal to the sentiment of the Scottish people throughout the world than
+this series of pictures, instinct with the spirit of their land."
+
+DAILY TELEGRAPH.--"One of the happiest combinations of author and artist
+which has been seen of late years. Mr. Boyd has entered thoroughly into
+the spirit of the lines, and his figures are instinct with graceful
+humour."
+
+DAILY CHRONICLE.--"Mr. Boyd is to be congratulated (as R. L. S. would
+assuredly have granted) upon interpreting so vividly a notable feature
+in the national life of Scotland."
+
+ATHENAEUM.--"The task of illustrating Stevenson's verses was most
+difficult, because it demands from the artist knowledge of local
+circumstances and characteristic details. Mr. Boyd's success in making
+us see so plainly the moods and manners of the 'restin' ploughman' while
+he 'daundered' in his garden and 'raxed his limbs' is the more to be
+enjoyed and praised."
+
+PALL MALL GAZETTE.--"Followers of the master will appreciate this
+beautiful book for its accurate interpretation of the poem as well as
+for its excellent drawing."
+
+ST. JAMES'S GAZETTE.--"There is plenty of good Scotch character in the
+illustrations, and a quiet observation of the humours of a parish, with
+such annals as those recorded by Gait."
+
+ACADEMY.--"An attractive book."
+
+SATURDAY REVIEW.--"In saying therefore that Mr. Boyd's
+illustrations--there is a full page drawing for each verse--are not only
+worthy of the poem, but actually emphasise and define its merits, we
+give the book the highest possible praise. It is a volume which should
+be added to the library of every collector."
+
+SPECTATOR.--"These illustrations to Mr. Stevenson's Scots poem are
+distinctly clever, especially in their characterisation of the various
+attendants at the village kirk."
+
+SPEAKER.--"The book presents very vividly some of the aspects (both
+humorous and pathetic) of a Scottish rural lowland parish, and will
+doubtless touch a chord in the heart of Scotsmen throughout the world."
+
+OUTLOOK.--"Many of Mr. Stevenson's admirers the world over have long
+desired that such a classic poem should be faithfully and adequately
+illustrated, and they will give a hearty welcome to this most handsome
+quarto."
+
+SCOTSMAN.--"One way and another the book is wholly delightful."
+
+GLASGOW EVENING NEWS.--"Mr. Boyd's contributions to a volume which ought
+to be popular with Scots in every part of the world, are full of pawky
+humour, and their realism is so pronounced that we seem to have known
+the models in the life."
+
+DUNDEE ADVERTISER.--"This is a volume to be treasured alike for the sake
+of the poet, of the artist, and of that form of Scottish life which is
+rapidly disappearing before the march of progress."
+
+ARBROATH HERALD.--"Mr. Boyd has represented these pictures in line
+sketches, which are characterised at once by the strength and confidence
+of a masterful draughtsman and the insight of a keen observer of
+character, who has long been familiar with the types presented in
+Stevenson's poem."
+
+GOOD WORDS.--"Mr. Boyd has portrayed, with here and there a happy trait
+of grace or humour beyond the wording of the text, the very scene and
+people. Each of the illustrations has a charm and freshness of its own."
+
+ART JOURNAL.--"Mr. Boyd's knowledge of Lothian peasants and their
+manners is as complete as Stevenson's. His drawings place in pictorial
+view the poet's thoughts, while they greatly enhance the descriptions by
+emphasising what the writer rightly left vague."
+
+LONDON: CHATTO & WINDUS, III St. Martin's Lane
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's A Versailles Christmas-Tide, by Mary Stuart Boyd
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10813 ***
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+Project Gutenberg's A Versailles Christmas-Tide, by Mary Stuart Boyd
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Versailles Christmas-Tide
+
+Author: Mary Stuart Boyd
+
+Release Date: January 23, 2004 [EBook #10813]
+[Date last updated: December 22, 2004]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A VERSAILLES CHRISTMAS-TIDE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Karen Robinson, David Garcia and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+A VERSAILLES CHRISTMAS-TIDE
+
+By
+
+Mary Stuart Boyd
+
+With Fifty-three Illustrations by A.S. Boyd
+
+1901
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+     I. The Unexpected Happens
+    II. Ogams
+   III. The Town
+    IV. Our Arbre de No�l
+     V. Le Jour de l'Ann�e
+    VI. Ice-bound
+   VII. The Haunted Ch�teau
+  VIII. Marie Antoinette
+    IX. The Prisoners Released
+
+
+
+
+
+Illustrations
+
+The Summons
+Storm Warning
+Treasure Trove
+The Red Cross in the Window
+Enter M. le Docteur
+Perpetual Motion
+Ursa Major
+Meal Considerations
+The Two Colonels
+The Young and Brave
+Malcontent
+The Aristocrat
+Papa, Mama, et B�b�
+Juvenile Progress
+Automoblesse oblige
+Sable Garb
+A Football Team
+Mistress and Maid
+Sage and Onions
+Marketing
+Private Boxes
+A Foraging Party
+A Thriving Merchant
+Chestnuts in the Avenue
+The Tree Vendor
+The Tree Bearer
+Rosine
+Alms and the Lady
+Adoration
+Thankfulness
+One of the Devout
+De l'eau Chaude
+The Mill
+The Presbytery
+To the Place of Rest
+While the Frost Holds
+The Postman's Wrap
+A Lapful of Warmth
+The Daily Round
+Three Babes and a Bonne
+Snow in the Park
+A Veteran of the Ch�teau
+Un, Deux, Trois
+Bedchamber of Louis XIV
+Marie Leczinska
+Madame Adelaide
+Louis Quatorze
+Where the Queen Played
+Marie Antoinette
+The Secret Stair
+Madame sans T�te
+Illumination
+L'Envoi
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS
+
+
+[Illustration: The Summons]
+
+No project could have been less foreseen than was ours of wintering in
+France, though it must be confessed that for several months our thoughts
+had constantly strayed across the Channel. For the Boy was at school at
+Versailles, banished there by our desire to fulfil a parental duty.
+
+The time of separation had dragged tardily past, until one foggy
+December morning we awoke to the glad consciousness that that very
+evening the Boy would be with us again. Across the breakfast-table we
+kept saying to each other, "It seems scarcely possible that the Boy is
+really coming home to-night," but all the while we hugged the assurance
+that it was.
+
+The Boy is an ordinary snub-nosed, shock-headed urchin of thirteen, with
+no special claim to distinction save the negative one of being an only
+child. Yet without his cheerful presence our home seemed empty and dull.
+Any attempts at merry-making failed to restore its life. Now all was
+agog for his return. The house was in its most festive trim. Christmas
+presents were hidden securely away. There was rejoicing downstairs as
+well as up: the larder shelves were stored with seasonable fare, and
+every bit of copper and brass sparkled a welcome. Even the kitchen cat
+sported a ribbon, and had a specially energetic purr ready.
+
+Into the midst of our happy preparations the bad news fell with
+bomb-like suddenness. The messenger who brought the telegram whistled
+shrilly and shuffled a breakdown on the doorstep while he waited to hear
+if there was an answer.
+
+"He is ill. He can't come. Scarlet fever," one of us said in an odd,
+flat voice.
+
+"Scarlet fever. At school. Oh! when can we go to him? When is there a
+boat?" cried the other.
+
+There was no question of expediency. The Boy lay sick in a foreign land,
+so we went to him. It was full noon when the news came, and nightfall
+saw us dashing through the murk of a wild mid-December night towards
+Dover pier, feeling that only the express speed of the mail train was
+quick enough for us to breathe in.
+
+But even the most apprehensive of journeys may hold its humours. Just at
+the moment of starting anxious friends assisted a young lady into our
+carriage. "She was going to Marseilles. Would we kindly see that she got
+on all right?" We were only going as far as Paris direct. "Well, then,
+as far as Paris. It would be a great favour." So from Charing Cross to
+the Gare du Nord, Placidia, as we christened her, became our care.
+
+She was a large, handsome girl of about three-and-twenty. What was her
+reason for journeying unattended to Cairo we know not. Whether she ever
+reached her destination we are still in doubt, for a more complacently
+incapable damsel never went a-voyaging. The Saracen maiden who followed
+her English lover from the Holy Land by crying "London" and "� Becket"
+was scarce so impotent as Placidia; for any information the Saracen
+maiden had she retained, while Placidia naively admitted that she had
+already forgotten by which line of steamers her passage through the
+Mediterranean had been taken.
+
+Placidia had an irrational way of losing her possessions. While yet on
+her way to the London railway station she had lost her tam-o'-shanter.
+So perforce, she travelled in a large picture-hat which, although pretty
+and becoming, was hardly suitable headgear for channel-crossing in
+mid-winter.
+
+[Illustration: Storm Warning]
+
+It was a wild night; wet, with a rising north-west gale. Tarpaulined
+porters swung themselves on to the carriage-steps as we drew up at Dover
+pier, and warned us not to leave the train, as, owing to the storm, the
+Calais boat would be an hour late in getting alongside.
+
+The Ostend packet, lying beside the quay in full sight of the
+travellers, lurched giddily at her moorings. The fourth occupant of our
+compartment, a sallow man with yellow whiskers, turned green with
+apprehension. Not so Placidia. From amongst her chaotic hand-baggage she
+extracted walnuts and mandarin oranges, and began eating with an
+appetite that was a direct challenge to the Channel. Bravery or
+foolhardiness could go no farther.
+
+Providence tempers the wind to the parents who are shorn of their lamb.
+The tumult of waters left us scatheless, but poor Placidia early paid
+the penalty of her rashness. She "thought" she was a good sailor--though
+she acknowledged that this was her first sea-trip--and elected to remain
+on deck. But before the harbour lights had faded behind us a sympathetic
+mariner supported her limp form--the feathers of her incongruous hat
+drooping in unison with their owner--down the swaying cabin staircase
+and deposited her on a couch.
+
+"Oh! I do wish I hadn't eaten that fruit," she groaned when I offered
+her smelling-salts. "But then, you know, I was so hungry!"
+
+In the _train rapide_ a little later, Placidia, when arranging her wraps
+for the night journey, chanced, among the medley of her belongings, upon
+a missing boat-ticket whose absence at the proper time had threatened
+complications. She burst into good-humoured laughter at the discovery.
+"Why, here's the ticket that man made all the fuss about. I really
+thought he wasn't going to let me land till I found it. Now, I do wonder
+how it got among my rugs?"
+
+We seemed to be awake all night, staring with wide, unseeing eyes out
+into the darkness. Yet the chill before dawn found us blinking sleepily
+at a blue-bloused porter who, throwing open the carriage door, curtly
+announced that we were in Paris.
+
+Then followed a fruitless search for Placidia's luggage, a hunt which
+was closed by Placidia recovering her registration ticket (with a
+fragment of candy adhering to it) from one of the multifarious pockets
+of her ulster, and finding that the luggage had been registered on to
+Marseilles. "Will they charge duty on tobacco?" she inquired blandly, as
+she watched the Customs examination of our things. "I've such a lot of
+cigars in my boxes."
+
+There was an Old-Man-of-the-Sea-like tenacity in Placidia's smiling
+impuissance. She did not know one syllable of French. A new-born babe
+could not have revealed itself more utterly incompetent. I verily
+believe that, despite our haste, we would have ended by escorting
+Placidia across Paris, and ensconcing her in the Marseilles train, had
+not Providence intervened in the person of a kindly disposed polyglot
+traveller. So, leaving Placidia standing the picture of complacent
+fatuosity in the midst of a group consisting of this new champion and
+three porters, we sneaked away.
+
+[Illustration: Treasure Trove]
+
+Grey dawn was breaking as we drove towards St. Lazare Station, and the
+daily life of the city was well begun. Lights were twinkling in the dark
+interiors of the shops. Through the mysterious atmosphere figures loomed
+mistily, then vanished into the gloom. But we got no more than a vague
+impression of our surroundings. Throughout the interminable length of
+drive across the city, and the subsequent slow train journey, our
+thoughts were ever in advance.
+
+The tardy winter daylight had scarcely come before we were jolting in a
+_fiacre_ over the stony streets of Versailles. In the gutters, crones
+were eagerly rummaging among the dust heaps that awaited removal. In
+France no degradation attaches to open economies. Housewives on their
+way to fetch Gargantuan loaves or tiny bottles of milk for the matutinal
+_caf�-au-lait_ cast searching glances as they passed, to see if among
+the rubbish something of use to them might not be lurking. And at one
+alluring mound an old gentleman of absurdly respectable exterior
+perfunctorily turned over the scraps with the point of his cane.
+
+We had heard of a hotel, and the first thing we saw of it we liked. That
+was a pair of sabots on the mat at the foot of the staircase. Pausing
+only to remove the dust of travel, we set off to visit our son, walking
+with timorous haste along the grand old avenue where the school was
+situated. A little casement window to the left of the wide entrance-door
+showed a red cross. We looked at it silently, wondering.
+
+[Illustration: The Red Cross in the Window]
+
+In response to our ring the portal opened mysteriously at touch of the
+unseen concierge, and we entered. A conference with Monsieur le
+Directeur, kindly, voluble, tactfully complimentary regarding our
+halting French, followed. The interview over, we crossed the courtyard
+our hearts beating quickly. At the top of a little flight of worn stone
+steps was the door of the school hospital, and under the ivy-twined
+trellis stood a sweet-faced Franciscan Soeur, waiting to welcome us.
+
+[Illustration: Enter M. Le Docteur]
+
+Passing through a tiny outer room--an odd combination of dispensary,
+kitchen, and drawing-room with a red-tiled floor--we reached the
+sick-chamber, and saw the Boy. A young compatriot, also a victim of the
+disease, occupied another bed, but for the first moments we were
+oblivious of his presence. Raising his fever-flushed face from the
+pillows, the Boy eagerly stretched out his burning hands.
+
+"I heard your voices," his hoarse voice murmured contentedly, "and I
+knew _you_ couldn't be ghosts." Poor child! in the semidarkness of the
+lonely night-hours phantom voices had haunted him. We of the morning
+were real.
+
+The good Soeur buzzed a mild frenzy of "Il ne faut pas toucher" about
+our ears, but, all unheeding, we clasped the hot hands and crooned over
+him. After the dreary months of separation, love overruled wisdom. Mere
+prudence was not strong enough to keep us apart.
+
+Chief amongst the chaos of thoughts that had assailed us on the
+reception of the bad news, was the necessity of engaging an English
+medical man. But at the first sight of the French doctor, as, clad in a
+long overall of white cotton, he entered the sick-room, our insular
+prejudice vanished, ousted by complete confidence; a confidence that our
+future experience of his professional skill and personal kindliness only
+strengthened.
+
+It was with sore hearts that, the prescribed _cinq minutes_ ended, we
+descended the little outside stair. Still, we had seen the Boy; and
+though we could not nurse him, we were not forbidden to visit him. So we
+were thankful too.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+OGAMS
+
+
+[Illustration: Perpetual Motion]
+
+Our hotel was distinctively French, and immensely comfortable, in that
+it had gleaned, and still retained, the creature comforts of a century
+or two. Thus it combined the luxuries of hot-air radiators and electric
+light with the enchantment of open wood fires. Viewed externally, the
+building presented that airy aspect almost universal in Versailles
+architecture. It was white-tinted, with many windows shuttered without
+and heavily lace-draped within.
+
+A wide entrance led to the inner courtyard, where orange trees in green
+tubs, and trelliswork with shrivelled stems and leaves still adhering,
+suggested that it would be a pleasant summer lounge. Our hotel boasted a
+_grand salon_, which opened from the courtyard. It was an elaborately
+ornate room; but on a chilly December day even a plethora of
+embellishment cannot be trusted to raise by a single degree the
+temperature of the apartment it adorns, and the soul turns from a cold
+hearth, however radiant its garnish of artificial blossoms. A private
+parlour was scarcely necessary, for, with most French bedrooms, ours
+shared the composite nature of the accommodation known in a certain
+class of advertisement as "bed-sitting-room." So it was that during
+these winter days we made ourselves at home in our chamber.
+
+The shape of the room was a geometrical problem. The three windows each
+revealed different views, and the remainder of the walls curved
+amazingly. At first sight the furniture consisted mainly of draperies
+and looking-glass; for the room, though of ordinary dimensions, owned
+three large mirrors and nine pairs of curtains. A stately bed, endowed
+with a huge square down pillow, which served as quilt, stood in a
+corner. Two armchairs in brocaded velvet and a centre table were
+additions to the customary articles. A handsome timepiece and a
+quartette of begilt candelabra decked the white marble mantelpiece, and
+were duplicated in the large pier glass. The floor was of well-polished
+wood, a strip of bright-hued carpet before the bed, a second before the
+washstand, its only coverings. Need I say that the provision for
+ablutions was one basin and a liliputian ewer, and that there was not a
+fixed bath in the establishment?
+
+It was a resting-place full of incongruities; but apart from, or perhaps
+because of, its oddities it had a cosy attractiveness. From the moment
+of our entrance we felt at home. I think the logs that purred and
+crackled on the hearth had much to do with its air of welcome. There is
+a sense of companionship about a wood fire that more enduring coal
+lacks. Like a delicate child, the very care it demands nurtures your
+affection. There was something delightfully foreign and picturesque to
+our town ideas in the heap of logs that Karl carried up in a great
+_panier_ and piled at the side of the hearth. Even the little faggots of
+kindling wood, willow-knotted and with the dry copper-tinted leaves
+still clinging to the twigs, had a rustic charm.
+
+These were pleasant moments when, ascending from the chill outer air, we
+found our chamber aglow with ruddy firelight that glinted in the mirrors
+and sparkled on the shining surface of the polished floor; when we drew
+our chairs up to the hearth, and, scorning the electric light, revelled
+in the beauty of the leaping and darting flames.
+
+It was only in the _salle-�-manger_ that we saw the other occupants of
+the hotel; and when we learned that several of them had lived _en
+pension_ under the roof of the assiduous proprietor for periods varying
+from five to seven years, we felt ephemeral, mere creatures of a moment,
+and wholly unworthy of regard.
+
+[Illustration: Ursa Major]
+
+At eight o'clock Karl brought the _petit d�je�ner_ of coffee and rolls
+to our room. At eleven, our morning visit to the school hospital over,
+we breakfasted in the _salle-�-manger_, a large bright room, one or
+other of whose many south windows had almost daily, even in the depth of
+winter, to be shaded against the rays of the sun. Three chandeliers of
+glittering crystal starred with electric lights depended from the
+ceiling. Half a dozen small tables stood down each side; four larger
+ones occupied the centre of the floor, and were reserved for transient
+custom.
+
+The first thing that struck us as peculiar was that every table save
+ours was laid for a single person, with a half bottle of wine, red or
+white, placed ready, in accordance with the known preference of the
+expected guest. We soon gathered that several of the regular customers
+lodged outside and, according to the French fashion, visited the hotel
+for meals only. After the early days of keen anxiety regarding our
+invalid had passed, we began to study our fellow guests individually and
+to note their idiosyncrasies. Sitting at our allotted table during the
+progress of the leisurely meals, we used to watch as one _habitu�_ after
+another entered, and, hanging coat and hat upon certain pegs, sat
+silently down in his accustomed place, with an unvarying air of calm
+deliberation.
+
+Then Iorson, the swift-footed _gar�on_, would skim over the polished
+boards to the newcomer, and, tendering the menu, would wait, pencil in
+hand, until the guest, after careful contemplation, selected his five
+_plats_ from its comprehensive list.
+
+[Illustration: Meal Considerations]
+
+The most picturesque man of the company had white moustaches of
+surprising length. On cold days he appeared enveloped in a fur coat, a
+garment of shaggy brown which, in conjunction with his hirsute
+countenance, made his aspect suggest the hero in pantomime renderings of
+"Beauty and the Beast." But in our hotel there was no Beauty, unless
+indeed it were Yvette, and Yvette could hardly be termed beautiful.
+
+Yvette also lived outside. She did not come to _d�je�ner_, but every
+night precisely at a quarter-past seven the farther door would open, and
+Yvette, her face expressing disgust with the world and all the things
+thereof, would enter.
+
+Yvette was blonde, with neat little features, a pale complexion, and
+tiny hands that were always ringless. She rang the changes on half a
+dozen handsome cloaks of different degrees of warmth. To an intelligent
+observer their wear might have served as a thermometer. Yvette was
+_blas�e_, and her millinery was in sympathy with her feelings. Her hats
+had all a fringe of disconsolate feathers, whose melancholy plumage
+emphasised the downward curve of her mouth. To see Yvette enter from the
+darkness and, seating herself at her solitary table, droop over her
+plate as though there were nothing in Versailles worth sitting upright
+for, was to view _ennui_ personified.
+
+Yvette invariably drank white wine, and the food rarely pleased her. She
+would cast a contemptuous look over the menu offered by the deferential
+Henri, then turn wearily away, esteeming that no item on its length
+merited even her most perfunctory consideration. But after one or two
+despondent glances, Yvette ever made the best of a bad bargain, and
+ordered quite a comprehensive little dinner, which she ate with the same
+air of utter disdain. She always concluded by eating an orange dipped in
+sugar. Even had a special table not been reserved for her, one could
+have told where Yvette had dined by the bowl of powdered sugar, just as
+one could have located the man with the fierce moustaches and the fur
+coat by the presence of his pepper-mill, or the place of "Madame" from
+her prodigal habit of rending a quarter-yard of the crusty French bread
+in twain and consuming only the soft inside.
+
+From the ignorance of our cursory acquaintance we had judged the French
+a sociable nation. Our stay at Versailles speedily convinced us of the
+fallacy of that belief. Nothing could have impressed us so forcibly as
+did the frigid silence that characterised the company. Many of them had
+fed there daily for years, yet within the walls of the sunny dining-room
+none exchanged even a salutation. This unexpected taciturnity in a
+people whom we had been taught to regard as lively and voluble made us
+almost ashamed of our own garrulity, and when, in the presence of the
+silent company, we were tempted to exchange remarks, we found ourselves
+doing it in hushed voices as though we were in church.
+
+A clearer knowledge, however, showed us that though some unspoken
+convention rendered the hotel guests oblivious of each other's presence
+while indoors, beyond the hotel walls they might hold communion. Two
+retired military men, both wearing the red ribbon of the Legion of
+Honour, as indeed did most of our _habitu�s_, sat at adjacent tables.
+One, tall and thin, was a Colonel; the other, little and neat, a Colonel
+also. To the casual gaze they appeared complete strangers, and we had
+consumed many meals in their society before observing that whenever the
+tall Colonel had sucked the last cerise from his glass of _eau-de-vie_,
+and begun to fold his napkin--a formidable task, for the serviettes
+fully deserved the designation later bestowed on them by the Boy, of
+"young table-cloths"--the little Colonel made haste to fold his also.
+Both rose from their chairs at the same instant, and the twain, having
+received their hats from the attentive Iorson, vanished, still mute,
+into the darkness together.
+
+[Illustration: The Two Colonels]
+
+Once, to our consternation, the little Colonel replaced his napkin in
+its ring without waiting for the signal from the tall Colonel. But our
+apprehension that they, in their dealings in that mysterious outer world
+which twice daily they sought together, might have fallen into a
+difference of opinion was dispelled by the little Colonel, who had
+risen, stepping to his friend and holding out his hand. This the tall
+Colonel without withdrawing his eyes from _Le Journal des D�bats_ which
+he was reading, silently pressed. Then, still without a word spoken or a
+look exchanged, the little Colonel passed out alone.
+
+[Illustration: The Young and Brave]
+
+The average age of the Ogams was seventy. True, there was Dunois the
+Young and Brave, who could not have been more than forty-five. What his
+name really was we knew not, but something in his comparatively juvenile
+appearance among the chevaliers suggested the appellation which for lack
+of a better we retained. Dunois' youth might only be comparative, but
+his bravery was indubitable; for who among the Ogams but he was daring
+enough to tackle the _p�t�-de-foie-gras_, or the _abattis_, a stew
+composed of the gizzards and livers of fowls? And who but Dunois would
+have been so reckless as to follow baked mussels and _cr�pinettes_ with
+_rognons frits_?
+
+Dunois, too, revealed intrepid leanings toward strange liquors.
+Sometimes--it was usually at _d�je�ner_ when he had dined out on the
+previous evening--he would demand the wine-list of Iorson, and rejecting
+the _vin blanc_ or _vin rouge_ which, being _compris_, contented the
+others, would order himself something of a choice brand. One of his
+favourite papers was _Le Rire_, and Henri, Iorson's youthful assistant,
+regarded him with admiration.
+
+[Illustration: Malcontent]
+
+A less attractive presence in the dining-room was Madame. Madame, who
+was an elderly dame of elephantine girth, had resided in the hotel for
+half a dozen years, during which period her sole exercise had been taken
+in slowly descending from her chamber in the upper regions for her
+meals, and then, leisurely assimilation completed, in yet more slowly
+ascending. Madame's allotted seat was placed in close proximity to the
+hot-air register; and though Madame was usually one of the first to
+enter the dining-room, she was generally the last to leave. Madame's
+appetite was as animated as her body was lethargic. She always drank her
+half-bottle of red wine to the dregs, and she invariably concluded with
+a greengage in brandy. So it was small marvel that, when at last she
+left her chair to "tortoise" upstairs, her complexion should be two
+shades darker than when she descended.
+
+Five dishes, irrespective of _hors d'oeuvres_ at luncheon, and _potage_
+at dinner, were allowed each guest, and Madame's selection was an affair
+of time. Our hotel was justly noted for its _cuisine_, yet on infrequent
+occasions the food supplied to Madame was not to her mind. At these
+times the whole establishment suffered until the irascible old lady's
+taste was suited. One night at dinner Iorson had the misfortune to serve
+Madame with some turkey that failed to meet with her approval. With the
+air of an insulted empress, Madame ordered its removal. The conciliatory
+Iorson obediently carried off the dish and speedily returned, bearing
+what professed to be another portion. But from the glimpse we got as it
+passed our table we had a shrewd suspicion that Iorson the wily had
+merely turned over the piece of turkey and re-served it with a little
+more gravy and an additional dressing of _cressons_. Madame, it
+transpired, shared our suspicions, for this portion also she declined,
+with renewed indignation. Then followed a long period of waiting,
+wherein Madame, fidgeting restlessly on her seat, kept fierce eyes fixed
+on the door through which the viands entered.
+
+Just as her impatience threatened to vent itself in action, Iorson
+appeared bearing a third helping of turkey. Placing it before the irate
+lady, he fled as though determined to debar a third repudiation. For a
+moment an air of triumph pervaded Madame's features. Then she began to
+gesticulate violently, with the evident intention of again attracting
+Iorson's notice. But the forbearance even of the diplomatic Iorson was
+at an end. Re-doubling his attentions to the diners at the farther side
+of the room, he remained resolutely unconscious of Madame's signals,
+which were rapidly becoming frantic.
+
+The less sophisticated Henri, however, feeling a boyish interest in the
+little comedy, could not resist a curious glance in Madame's direction.
+That was sufficient. Waving imperiously, Madame compelled his approach,
+and, moving reluctantly, fearful of the issue, Henri advanced.
+
+"Couteau!" hissed Madame. Henri flew to fetch the desired implement,
+and, realising that Madame had at last been satisfied, we again breathed
+freely.
+
+A more attractive personage was a typical old aristocrat, officer of the
+Legion of Honour, who used to enter, walk with great dignity to his
+table, eat sparingly of one or two dishes, drink a glass of his _vin
+ordinaire_ and retire. Sometimes he was accompanied by a tiny spaniel,
+which occupied a chair beside him; and frequently a middle-aged son,
+whose bourgeois appearance was in amazing contrast to that of his
+refined old father, attended him.
+
+[Illustration: The Aristocrat]
+
+There were others, less interesting perhaps, but equally self-absorbed.
+One afternoon, entering the cable car that runs--for fun, apparently, as
+it rarely boasted a passenger--to and from the Trianon, we recognised in
+its sole occupant an Ogam who during the weeks of our stay had eaten, in
+evident oblivion of his human surroundings, at the table next to ours.
+Forgetting that we were without the walls of silence, we expected no
+greeting; but to our amazement he rose, and, placing himself opposite
+us, conversed affably and in most excellent English for the rest of the
+journey. To speak with him was to discover a courteous and travelled
+gentleman. Yet during our stay in Versailles we never knew him exchange
+even a bow with any of his fellow Ogams, who were men of like
+qualifications, though, as he told us, he had taken his meals in the
+hotel for over five years.
+
+Early in the year our peace was rudely broken by the advent of a
+commercial man--a short, grey-haired being of an activity so foreign to
+our usage that a feeling of unrest was imparted to the _salle-�-manger_
+throughout his stay. His movements were distractingly erratic. In his
+opinion, meals were things to be treated casually, to be consumed
+haphazard at any hour that chanced to suit. He did not enter the
+dining-room at the exact moment each day as did the Ogams. He would rush
+in, throw his hat on a peg, devour some food with unseemly haste, and
+depart in less time than it took the others to reach the _l�gumes_.
+
+[Illustration: Papa, Mama et B�b�]
+
+He was hospitable too, and had a disconcerting way of inviting guests to
+luncheon or dinner, and then forgetting that he had done so. One morning
+a stranger entered, and after a brief conference with Iorson, was
+conducted to the commercial man's table to await his arrival. The
+regular customers took their wonted places, and began in their leisurely
+fashion to breakfast, and still the visitor sat alone, starting up
+expectantly every time a door opened, then despondently resuming his
+seat.
+
+At last Iorson, taking compassion, urged the neglected guest to while
+away his period of waiting by trifling with the _hors-d'oeuvres_. He was
+proceeding to allay the pangs of hunger with selections from the tray of
+anchovies, sardines, pickled beet, and sliced sausage, when his host
+entered, voluble and irrepressible as ever. The dignified Ogams
+shuddered inwardly as his strident voice awoke the echoes of the room,
+and their already stiff limbs became rigid with disapproval.
+
+In winter, transient visitors but rarely occupied one or other of the
+square centre tables, though not infrequently a proud father and mother
+who had come to visit a soldier son at the barracks, brought him to the
+hotel for a meal, and for a space the radiance of blue and scarlet and
+the glint of steel cast a military glamour over the staid company.
+
+An amusing little circumstance to us onlookers was that although the
+supply of cooked food seemed equal to any demand, the arrival of even a
+trio of unexpected guests to dinner invariably caused a dearth of bread.
+For on their advent Iorson would dash out bareheaded into the night, to
+reappear in an incredibly short time carrying a loaf nearly as tall as
+himself.
+
+One morning a stalwart young Briton brought to breakfast a pretty
+English cousin, on leave of absence from her boarding-school. His
+knowledge of French was limited. When anything was wanted he shouted
+"Gar�on!" in a lordly voice, but it was the pretty cousin who gave the
+order. _D�je�ner_ over, they departed in the direction of the Ch�teau.
+And at sunset as we chanced to stroll along the Boulevard de la Reine,
+we saw the pretty cousin, all the gaiety fled from her face, bidding her
+escort farewell at the gate of a Pension pour Demoiselles. The ball was
+over. Poor little Cinderella was perforce returning to the dust and
+ashes of learning.
+
+[Illustration: Juvenile Progress]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE TOWN
+
+
+The English-speaking traveller finds Versailles vastly more foreign than
+the Antipodes. He may voyage for many weeks, and at each distant
+stopping-place find his own tongue spoken around him, and his
+conventions governing society. But let him leave London one night, cross
+the Channel at its narrowest--and most turbulent--and sunrise will find
+him an alien in a land whose denizens differ from him in language,
+temperament, dress, food, manners, and customs.
+
+Of a former visit to Versailles we had retained little more than the
+usual tourist's recollection of a hurried run through a palace of
+fatiguing magnificence, a confusing peep at the Trianons, a glance
+around the gorgeous state equipages, an unsatisfactory meal at one of
+the open-air _caf�s_, and a scamper back to Paris. But our winter
+residence in the quaint old town revealed to us the existence of a life
+that is all its own--a life widely variant, in its calm repose, from the
+bustle and gaiety of the capital, but one that is replete with charm,
+and abounding in picturesque-interest.
+
+[Illustration: Automoblesse Oblige]
+
+Versailles is not ancient; it is old, completely old. Since the fall of
+the Second Empire it has stood still. Most of the clocks have run down,
+as though they realised the futility of trying to keep pace with the
+rest of the world. The future merges into the present, the present fades
+into the past, and still the clocks of Versailles point to the same long
+eventide.
+
+[Illustration: Sable Garb]
+
+The proximity of Paris is evinced only by the vividly tinted automobiles
+that make Versailles their goal. Even they rarely tarry in the old town,
+but, turning at the Ch�teau gates, lose no time in retracing their
+impetuous flight towards a city whose usages accord better with their
+creed of feverish hurry-scurry than do the conventions of reposeful
+Versailles. And these fiery chariots of modernity, with their ghoulish,
+fur-garbed, and hideously spectacled occupants, once their raucous,
+cigale-like birr-r-r has died away in the distance, leave infinitely
+less impression on the placid life of Versailles than do their wheels on
+the roads they traverse. Under the grand trees of the wide avenues the
+townsfolk move quietly about, busying themselves with their own affairs
+and practising their little economies as they have been doing any time
+during the last century.
+
+Perhaps it was the emphatic and demonstrative nature of the mourning
+worn that gave us the idea that the better-class female population of
+Versailles consisted chiefly of widows. When walking abroad we seemed
+incessantly to encounter widows: widows young and old, from the aged to
+the absurdly immature. It was only after a period of bewilderment that
+it dawned upon us that the sepulchral garb and heavy crape veils
+reaching from head to heel were not necessarily the emblems of
+widowhood, but might signify some state of minor bereavement. In Britain
+a display of black such as is an everyday sight at Versailles is
+undreamt of, and one saw more crape veils in a day in Versailles than in
+London in a week. Little girls, though their legs might be uncovered,
+had their chubby features shrouded in disfiguring gauze and to our
+unaccustomed foreign eyes a genuine widow represented nothing more
+shapely than a more or less stubby pillar festooned with crape.
+
+But for an inborn conviction that a frugal race like the French would
+not invest in a plethora of mourning garb only to cast it aside after a
+few months' wear, and that therefore the period of wearing the willow
+must be greatly protracted, we would have been haunted by the idea that
+the adult male mortality of Versailles was enormous.
+
+"Do they wear such deep mourning for all relatives?" I asked our hotel
+proprietor, who had just told us that during the first month of mourning
+the disguising veils were worn over the faces.
+
+Monsieur shook his sleek head gravely, "But no, Madame, not for all. For
+a husband, yes; for a father or mother, yes; for a sister or brother, an
+uncle or aunt, yes; but for a cousin, _no_."
+
+He pronounced the _no_ so emphatically as almost to convince us of his
+belief that in refusing to mourn in the most lugubrious degree for
+cousins the Versaillese acted with praiseworthy self-denial.
+
+There seemed to be no medium between sackcloth and gala-dress. We seldom
+noted the customary degrees of half-mourning. Plain colours were
+evidently unpopular and fancy tartans of the most flamboyant hues
+predominated amongst those who, during a spell of, say, three years had
+been fortunate enough not to lose a parent, sister, brother, uncle, or
+aunt. A perfectly natural reaction appeared to urge the _ci-devant_
+mourners to robe themselves in lively checks and tartans. It was as
+though they said--"Here at last is our opportunity for gratifying our
+natural taste in colours. It will probably be of but short duration.
+Therefore let us select a combination of all the most brilliant tints
+and wear them, for who knows how soon that gruesome pall of woe may
+again enshroud us."
+
+Probably it was the vicinity of our hotel to the Church of Notre Dame
+that, until we discovered its brighter side, led us to esteem Versailles
+a veritable city of the dead, for on our bi-daily walks to visit the
+invalids we were almost certain to encounter a funeral procession either
+approaching or leaving Notre Dame. And on but rare occasions was the
+great central door undraped with the sepulchral insignia which
+proclaimed that a Mass for the dead was in prospect or in progress.
+Sometimes the sable valance and porti�res were heavily trimmed and
+fringed with silver; at others there was only the scantiest display of
+time-worn black cloth.
+
+[Illustration: A Football Team]
+
+The humblest funeral was affecting and impressive. As the sad little
+procession moved along the streets--the wayfarers reverently uncovering
+and soldiers saluting as it passed--the dirge-like chant of the
+_Miserere_ never failed to fill my eyes with unbidden tears of sympathy
+for the mourners, who, with bowed heads, walked behind the wreath-laden
+hearse.
+
+Despite the abundant emblems of woe, Versailles can never appear other
+than bright and attractive. Even in mid-winter the skies were clear, and
+on the shortest days the sun seldom forgot to cast a warm glow over the
+gay, white-painted houses. And though the women's dress tends towards
+depression, the brilliant military uniforms make amends. There are
+12,000 soldiers stationed in Versailles; and where a fifth of the
+population is gorgeous in scarlet and blue and gold, no town can be
+accused of lacking colour.
+
+Next to the redundant manifestations of grief, the thing that most
+impressed us was the rigid economy practised in even the smallest
+details of expenditure. Among the lower classes there is none of that
+aping of fashion so prevalent in prodigal England; the different social
+grades have each a distinctive dress and are content to wear it. Among
+the men, blouses of stout blue cotton and sabots are common. Sometimes
+velveteen trousers, whose original tint years of wear have toned to some
+exquisite shade of heliotrope, and a russet coat worn with a fur cap and
+red neckerchief, compose an effect that for harmonious colouring would
+be hard to beat. The female of his species, as is the case in all
+natural animals, is content to be less adorned. Her skirt is black, her
+apron blue. While she is young, her neatly dressed hair, even in the
+coldest weather, is guiltless of covering. As her years increase she
+takes her choice of three head-dresses, and to shelter her grey locks
+selects either a black knitted hood, a checked cotton handkerchief, or a
+white cap of ridiculously unbecoming design.
+
+No French workaday father need fear that his earnings will be squandered
+on such perishable adornments as feathers, artificial flowers, or
+ribbons. The purchases of his spouse are certain to be governed by
+extreme frugality. She selects the family raiment with a view to
+durability. Flimsy finery that the sun would fade, shoddy materials that
+a shower of rain would ruin, offer no temptations to her. When she
+expends a few _sous_ on the cutting of her boy's hair, she has it
+cropped until his cranium resembles the soft, furry skin of a mole, thus
+rendering further outlay in this respect unlikely for months. And when
+she buys a flannel shirt, a six-inch strip of the stuff, for future
+mending, is always included in the price.
+
+But with all this economy there is an air of comfort, a complete absence
+of squalor. In cold weather the school-girls wear snug hoods, or little
+fur turbans; and boys have the picturesque and almost indestructible
+b�rets of cloth or corduroy. Cloth boots that will conveniently slip
+inside sabots for outdoor use are greatly in vogue, and the comfortable
+Capuchin cloaks--whose peaked hood can be drawn over the head, thus
+obviating the use of umbrellas--are favoured by both sexes and all ages.
+
+[Illustration: Mistress and Maid]
+
+As may be imagined, little is spent on luxuries. Vendors of frivolities
+know better than to waste time tempting those provident people. On one
+occasion only did I see money parted with lightly, and in that case the
+bargain appeared astounding. One Sunday morning an enterprising huckster
+of gimcrack jewellery, venturing out from Paris, had set down his strong
+box on the verge of the market square, and, displaying to the admiring
+eyes of the country folks, ladies' and gentlemen's watches with chains
+complete, in the most dazzling of aureate metal, sold them at six sous
+apiece as quickly as he could hand them out.
+
+Living is comparatively cheap in Versailles; though, as in all places
+where the cost of existence is low, it must be hard to earn a livelihood
+there. By far the larger proportion of the community reside in flats,
+which can be rented at sums that rise in accordance with the
+accommodation but are in all cases moderate. Housekeeping in a flat,
+should the owner so will it, is ever conducive to economy, and life in a
+French provincial town is simple and unconventional.
+
+[Illustration: Sage and Onions]
+
+Bread, wine, and vegetables, the staple foods of the nation, are good
+and inexpensive. For 40 centimes one may purchase a bottle of _vin de
+gard_, a thin tipple, doubtless; but what kind of claret could one buy
+for fourpence a quart at home? _Graves_ I have seen priced at 50
+centimes, _Barsac_ at 60, and _eau de vie_ is plentiful at 1 franc 20!
+
+Fish are scarce, and beef is supposed to be dear; but when butter, eggs,
+and cheese bulk so largely in the diet, the half chicken, the scrap of
+tripe, the slice of garlic sausage, the tiny cut of beef for the
+_ragout_, cannot be heavy items. Everything eatable is utilised, and
+many weird edibles are sold; for the French can contrive tasty dishes
+out of what in Britain would be thrown aside as offal.
+
+On three mornings a week--Sunday, Tuesday, and Friday--the presence of
+the open-air market rouses Versailles from her dormouse-like slumber and
+galvanises her into a state of activity that lasts for several hours.
+Long before dawn, the roads leading townwards are busy with all manner
+of vehicles, from the great waggon drawn by four white horses driven
+tandem, and laden with a moving stack of hay, to the ramshackle
+donkey-cart conveying half a score of cabbages, a heap of dandelions
+grubbed from the meadows, and the owner.
+
+[Illustration: Marketing]
+
+By daybreak the market square under the leafless trees presents a lively
+scene. There are stalls sacred to poultry, to butter, eggs, and cheese;
+but the vegetable kingdom predominates. Flanked by bulwarks of greens
+and bundles of leeks of incredible whiteness and thickness of stem, sit
+the saleswomen, their heads swathed in gay cotton kerchiefs, and the
+ground before them temptingly spread with little heaps of corn salad, of
+chicory, and of yellow endive placed in adorable contrast to the scarlet
+carrots, blood-red beetroot, pinky-fawn onions, and glorious orange-hued
+pumpkins; while ready to hand are measures of white or mottled haricot
+beans, of miniature Brussels sprouts, and of pink or yellow potatoes, an
+esculent that in France occupies a very unimportant place compared with
+that it holds amongst the lower classes in Britain.
+
+[Illustration: Private Boxes]
+
+In Versailles Madame does her own marketing, her maid--in sabots and
+neat but usually hideous cap--accompanying her, basket laden. From stall
+to stall Madame passes, buying a roll of creamy butter wrapped in fresh
+leaves here, a fowl there, some eggs from the wrinkled old dame who
+looks so swart and witch-like in contrast to her stock of milk-white
+eggs.
+
+Madame makes her purchases judiciously--time is not a valuable commodity
+in Versailles--and finishes, when the huge black basket is getting heavy
+even for the strong arms of the squat little maid, by buying a mess of
+cooked spinach from the pretty girl whose red hood makes a happy spot of
+colour among the surrounding greenery, and a measure of onions from the
+profound-looking sage who garners a winter livelihood from the summer
+produce of his fields.
+
+[Illustration: A Foraging Party]
+
+Relations with uncooked food are, in Versailles, distinguished by an
+unwonted intimacy. No one, however dignified his station or appearance,
+is ashamed of purchasing the materials for his dinner in the open
+market, or of carrying them home exposed to the view of the world
+through the transpicuous meshes of a string bag. The portly gentleman
+with the fur coat and waxed moustaches, who looks a general at least,
+and is probably a tram-car conductor, bears his bunch of turnips with an
+air that dignifies the office, just as the young sub-lieutenant in the
+light blue cloak and red cap and trousers carries his mother's apples
+and lettuces without a thought of shame. And it is easy to guess the
+nature of the _d�je�ner_ of this _simple soldat_ from the long loaf, the
+bottle of _vin ordinaire_, and the onions that form the contents of his
+net. In the street it was a common occurrence to encounter some
+non-commissioned officer who, entrusted with the catering for his mess,
+did his marketing accompanied by two underlings, who bore between them
+the great open basket destined to hold his purchases.
+
+[Illustration: A Thriving Merchant]
+
+A picturesque appearance among the hucksters of the market square is the
+_bo�te de carton_ seller. Blue-bloused, with his stock of lavender or
+brown bandboxes strapped in a cardboard Tower of Pisa on his back, he
+parades along, his wares finding ready sale; for his visits are
+infrequent, and if one does not purchase at the moment, as does Madame,
+the opportunity is gone.
+
+The spirit of camaraderie is strong amongst the good folks of the
+market. One morning the Artist had paused a moment to make a rough
+sketch of a plump, affable man who, shadowed by the green cotton awning
+of his stall, was selling segments of round flat cheeses of goat's milk;
+vile-smelling compounds that, judged from their outer coating of
+withered leaves, straw, and dirt, would appear to have been made in a
+stable and dried on a rubbish heap. The subject of the jotting, busy
+with his customers, was all unconscious; but an old crone who sat, her
+feet resting on a tiny charcoal stove, amidst a circle of decadent
+greens, detecting the Artist's action, became excited, and after eyeing
+him uneasily for a moment, confided her suspicions as to his ulterior
+motive to a round-faced young countryman who retailed flowers close by.
+He, recognising us as customers--even then we were laden with his
+violets and mimosa--merely smiled at her concern. But his apathy only
+served to heighten Madame's agitation. She was unwilling to leave her
+snug seat yet felt that her imperative duty lay in acquainting Monsieur
+du Fromage with the inexplicable behaviour of the inquisitive foreigner.
+But the nefarious deed was already accomplished, and as we moved away
+our last glimpse was of the little stove standing deserted, while Madame
+hastened across the street in her clattering sabots to warn her friend.
+
+The bustle of the market is soon ended. By ten o'clock the piles of
+vegetables are sensibly diminished. By half-past ten the white-capped
+maid-servants have carried the heavy baskets home, and are busy
+preparing lunch. At eleven o'clock the sharp boy whose stock-in-trade
+consisted of three trays of snails stuffed _� la_ Bourgogne has sold all
+the large ones at 45 centimes a dozen, all the small at 25, and quite
+two-thirds of the medium-sized at 35 centimes.
+
+The clock points to eleven. The sun is high now. The vendors awaken to
+the consciousness of hunger, and Madame of the _pommes frites_ stall,
+whose assistant dexterously cuts the peeled tubers into strips, is fully
+occupied in draining the crisp golden shreds from the boiling fat and
+handing them over, well sprinkled with salt and pepper, to avid
+customers, who devour them smoking hot, direct from their paper
+cornucopias.
+
+Long before the first gloom of the early mid-winter dusk, all has been
+cleared away. The rickety stalls have been demolished; the unsold
+remainder of the goods disposed of; the worthy country folks, their
+pockets heavy with _sous_, are well on their journey homewards, and only
+a litter of straw, of cabbage leaves and leek tops remains as evidence
+of the lively market of the morning.
+
+[Illustration: Chestnuts in the Avenue]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+OUR ARBRE DE NO�L
+
+
+We bought it on the Sunday morning from old Grand'mere Gomard in the
+Avenue de St. Cloud.
+
+It was not a noble specimen of a Christmas-tree. Looked at with cold,
+unimaginative eyes, it might have been considered lopsided; undersized
+it undoubtedly was. Yet a pathetic familiarity in the desolate aspect of
+the little tree aroused our sympathy as no rare horticultural trophy
+ever could.
+
+Some Christmas fairy must have whispered to Grand'mere to grub up the
+tiny tree and to include it in the stock she was taking into Versailles
+on the market morning. For there it was, its roots stuck securely into a
+big pot, looking like some forlorn forest bantling among the garden
+plants.
+
+[Illustration: The Tree Vendor]
+
+Grand'mere Gomard had established herself in a cosy nook at the foot of
+one of the great leafless trees of the Avenue. Straw hurdles were
+cunningly arranged to form three sides of a square, in whose midst she
+was seated on a rush-bottomed chair, like a queen on a humble throne.
+Her head was bound by a gaily striped kerchief, and her feet rested
+snugly on a charcoal stove. Her merchandise, which consisted of half a
+dozen pots of pink and white primulas, a few spotted or crimson
+cyclamen, sundry lettuce and cauliflower plants, and some roots of
+pansies and daisies, was grouped around her.
+
+[Illustration: The Tree-Bearer]
+
+The primulas and cyclamen, though their pots were shrouded in pinafores
+of white paper skilfully calculated to conceal any undue lankiness of
+stem, left us unmoved. But the sight of the starveling little fir tree
+reminded us that in the school hospital lay two sick boys whose roseate
+dreams of London and holidays had suddenly changed to the knowledge that
+weeks of isolation and imprisonment behind the window-blind with the red
+cross lay before them. If we could not give them the longed-for home
+Christmas, we could at least give them a Christmas-tree.
+
+The sight of foreign customers for Grand'mere Gomard speedily collected
+a small group of interested spectators. A knot of children relinquished
+their tantalising occupation of hanging round the pan of charcoal over
+whose glow chestnuts were cracking appetisingly, and the stall of the
+lady who with amazing celerity fried pancakes on a hot plate, and sold
+them dotted with butter and sprinkled with sugar to the lucky possessors
+of a _sou_. Even the sharp urchin who presided over the old red
+umbrella, which, reversed, with the ferule fixed in a cross-bar of wood,
+served as a receptacle for sheets of festive note-paper embellished with
+lace edges and further adorned with coloured scraps, temporarily
+entrusting a juvenile sister with his responsibilities, added his
+presence to our court.
+
+[Illustration: Rosine]
+
+Christmas-trees seemed not to be greatly in demand in Versailles, and
+many were the whispered communings as to what _les Anglais_ proposed
+doing with the tree after they had bought it. When the transaction was
+completed and Grand'mere Gomard had exchanged the tree, with a sheet of
+_La Patrie_ wrapped round its pot, for a franc and our thanks, the
+interest increased. We would require some one to carry our purchase, and
+each of the bright-eyed, short-cropped Jeans and Pierres was eager to
+offer himself. But our selection was already made. A slender boy in a
+_b�ret_ and black pinafore, who had been our earliest spectator, was
+singled out and entrusted with the conveyance of the _arbre de No�l_ to
+our hotel.
+
+The fact that it had met with approbation appeared to encourage the
+little tree. The change may have been imaginary, but from the moment it
+passed into our possession the branches seemed less despondent, the
+needles more erect.
+
+"Will you put toys on it?" the youthful porter asked suddenly.
+
+"Yes; it is for a sick boy--a boy who has fever. Have you ever had an
+_arbre de No�l_?"
+
+"_Jamais_," was his conclusive reply: the tone thereof suggesting that
+that was a felicity quite beyond the range of possibility.
+
+The tree secured, there began the comparatively difficult work of
+finding the customary ornaments of glass and glitter to deck it. A
+fruitless search had left us almost in despair, when, late on Monday
+afternoon, we joyed to discover miniature candles of red, yellow, and
+blue on the open-air stall in front of a toy-store. A rummage in the
+interior of the shop procured candle clips, and a variety of glittering
+bagatelles. Laden with treasure, we hurried back to the hotel, and began
+the work of decoration in preparation for the morning.
+
+During its short stay in our room at the hotel, the erstwhile despised
+little tree met with an adulation that must have warmed the heart within
+its rough stem. When nothing more than three coloured glass globes, a
+gilded walnut, and a gorgeous humming-bird with wings and tail of spun
+glass had been suspended by narrow ribbon from its branches, Rosine, the
+pretty Swiss chambermaid, chancing to enter the room with letters, was
+struck with admiration and pronounced it "tr�s belle!"
+
+And Karl bringing in a fresh _panier_ of logs when the adorning was
+complete, and silly little delightful baubles sparkled and twinkled from
+every spray, putting down his burden, threw up his hands in amazement
+and declared the _arbre de No�l_ "magnifique!"
+
+This alien Christmas-tree had an element all its own. When we were
+searching for knick-knacks the shops were full of tiny Holy Babes lying
+cradled in waxen innocence in mangers of yellow corn. One of these
+little effigies we had bought because they pleased us. And when, the
+decoration of the tree being nearly finished, the tip of the centre stem
+standing scraggily naked called for covering, what more fitting than
+that the dear little Sacred _B�b�_ in his nest of golden straw should
+have the place of honour?
+
+It was late on Christmas Eve before our task was ended. But next morning
+when Karl, carrying in our _petit d�je�ner_, turned on the electric
+light, and our anxious gaze sought our work, we found it good.
+
+Then followed a hurried packing of the loose presents; and, a _fiacre_
+having been summoned, the tree which had entered the room in all
+humility passed out transmogrified beyond knowledge. Rosine, duster in
+hand, leant over the banisters of the upper landing to watch its
+descent. Karl saw it coming and flew to open the outer door for its
+better egress. Even the stout old driver of the red-wheeled cab creaked
+cumbrously round on his box to look upon its beauties.
+
+[Illustration: Alms and the Lady]
+
+The Market was busy in the square as we rattled through. From behind
+their battlemented wares the country mice waged wordy war with the town
+mice over the price of merchandise. But on this occasion we were too
+engrossed to notice a scene whose picturesque humour usually fascinated
+us, for as the carriage jogged over the rough roads the poor little
+_arbre de No�l_ palpitated convulsively. The gewgaws clattered like
+castanets, as though in frantic expostulation, and the radiant
+spun-glass humming-birds quivered until we expected them to break from
+their elastic fetters and fly away. The green and scarlet one with the
+gold-flecked wings fell on the floor and rolled under the seat just as
+the cab drew up at the great door of the school.
+
+The two Red-Cross prisoners who, now that the dominating heat of fever
+had faded, were thinking wistfully of the forbidden joys of home, had no
+suspicion of our intention, and we wished to surprise them. So, burdened
+with our treasure, we slipped in quietly.
+
+From her lodge window the concierge nodded approval. And at the door of
+the hospital the good Soeur received us, a flush of pleasure glorifying
+her tranquil face.
+
+Then followed a moment wherein the patients were ordered to shut their
+eyes, to reopen them upon the vision splendid of the _arbre de No�l_.
+Perhaps it was the contrast to the meagre background of the tiny
+school-hospital room, with its two white beds and bare walls, but,
+placed in full view on the centre table, the tree was almost imposing.
+Standing apart from Grand'mere's primulas and cyclamen as though,
+conscious of its own inferiority, it did not wish to obtrude, it had
+looked dejected, miserable. During its sojourn at the hotel the
+appreciation of its meanness had troubled us. But now, in the shabby
+little chamber, where there were no rival attractions to detract from
+its glory, we felt proud of it. It was just the right size for the
+surroundings. A two-franc tree, had Grand'mere possessed one, would have
+been Brobdignagian and pretentious.
+
+[Illustration: Adoration]
+
+A donor who is handicapped by the knowledge that the gifts he selects
+must within a few weeks be destroyed by fire, is rarely lavish in his
+outlay. Yet our presents, wrapped in white paper and tied with blue
+ribbons, when arranged round the flower-pot made a wonderful show, There
+were mounted Boers who, when you pressed the ball at the end of the
+air-tube, galloped in a wobbly, uncertain fashion. The invalids had good
+fun later trying races with them, and the Boy professed to find that his
+Boer gained an accelerated speed when he whispered "Bobs" to him. There
+were tales of adventure and flasks of eau-de-Cologne and smart virile
+pocket-books, one red morocco, the other blue. We regretted the
+pocket-books; but their possession made the recipients who, boylike,
+took no heed for the cleansing fires of the morrow, feel grown-up at
+once. And they yearned for the advent of the first day of the year, that
+they might begin writing in their new diaries. For the Sister there was
+a miniature gold consecrated medal. It was a small tribute of our
+esteem, but one that pleased the devout recipient.
+
+[Illustration: Thankfulness]
+
+Suspended among the purely ornamental trinkets of the tree hung tiny net
+bags of crystallised violets and many large chocolates rolled up in
+silver paper. The boys, who had subsisted for several days on nothing
+more exciting than boiled milk, openly rejoiced when they caught sight
+of the sweets. But to her patients' disgust, the Soeur, who had a pretty
+wit of her own, promptly frustrated their intentions by counting the
+dainties.
+
+"I count the chocolates. They are good boys, wise boys, honest boys, and
+I have every confidence in them, but--I count the chocolates!" said the
+Soeur.
+
+[Illustration: One of the Devout]
+
+As we passed back along the Rue de la Paroisse, worshippers were
+flocking in and out of Notre Dame, running the gauntlet of the unsavoury
+beggars who, loudly importunate, thronged the portals. Before the quiet
+nook wherein, under a gold-bestarred canopy, was the tableau of the
+Infant Jesus in the stable, little children stood in wide-eyed
+adoration, and older people gazed with mute devotion.
+
+Some might deem the little spectacle theatrical, and there was a slight
+irrelevance in the pot-plants that were grouped along the foreground,
+but none could fail to be impressed by the silent reverence of the
+congregation. No service was in process, yet many believers knelt at
+prayer. Here a pretty girl returned thanks for evident blessings
+received; there an old spinster, the narrowness of whose means forbade
+her expending a couple of sous on the hire of a chair, knelt on the
+chilly flags and murmured words of gratitude for benefits whereof her
+appearance bore no outward indication.
+
+We had left the prisoners to the enjoyment of their newly acquired
+property in the morning. At gloaming we again mounted the time-worn
+outside stair leading to the chamber whose casement bore the ominous red
+cross. The warm glow of firelight filled the room, scintillating in the
+glittering facets of the baubles on the tree; and from their pillows two
+pale-faced boys--boys who, despite their lengthening limbs were yet
+happily children at heart--watched eager-eyed while the sweet-faced
+Soeur, with reverential care, lit the candles that surrounded the Holy
+_B�b�_.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+LE JOUR DE L'ANN�E
+
+
+The closing days of 1900 had been unusually mild. Versailles townsfolk,
+watching the clear skies for sign of change, declared that it would be
+outside all precedent if Christmas week passed without snow. But,
+defiant of rule, sunshine continued, and the new century opened
+cloudless and bright.
+
+[Illustration: De L'eau Chaude]
+
+Karl, entering with hot water, gave us seasonable greeting, and as we
+descended the stair, pretty Rosine, brushing boots at the open window of
+the landing, also wished us a smiling _bonne nouvelle ann�e_. But within
+or without there was little token of gaiety. Sundry booths for the sale
+of gingerbread and cheap _jouets_, which had been erected in the Avenue
+de St. Cloud, found business languishing, though a stalwart countryman
+in blouse and sabots, whose stock-in-trade consisted of whirligigs
+fashioned in the semblance of _moulins rouges_ and grotesque blue
+Chinamen which he carried stuck into a straw wreath fixed on a tall
+pole, had no lack of custom.
+
+The great food question never bulks so largely in the public interest as
+at the close of a year, so perhaps it was but natural that the greatest
+appreciation of the festive traditions of the season should be evinced
+by the shops devoted to the sale of provender. Turkeys sported scarlet
+bows on their toes as though anticipating a dance rather than the oven;
+and by their sides sausages, their somewhat plethoric waists girdled by
+pink ribbon sashes, seemed ready to join them in the frolic. In one
+cookshop window a trio of plaster nymphs who stood ankle-deep in a pool
+of crimped green paper, upheld a huge garland of cunningly moulded wax
+roses, dahlias, and lilac, above which perched a pheasant regnant. This
+trophy met with vast approbation until a rival establishment across the
+way, not to be outdone, exhibited a centrepiece of unparalleled
+originality, consisting as it did of a war scene modelled entirely in
+lard. Entrenched behind the battlements of the fort crowning an
+eminence, Boers busied themselves with cannon whose aim was carefully
+directed towards the admiring spectators outside the window, not at the
+British troops who were essaying to scale the greasy slopes. Half way up
+the hill, a miniature train appeared from time to time issuing from an
+absolutely irrelevant tunnel, and, progressing at the rate of quite a
+mile an hour, crawled into the corresponding tunnel on the other side.
+At the base of the hill British soldiers, who seemed quite cognisant of
+the utter futility of the Boer gunnery, were complacently driving off
+cattle. Captious critics might have taken exception to the fact that the
+waxen camellias adorning the hill were nearly as big as the battlements,
+and considerably larger than the engine of the train. But fortunately
+detractors were absent, and such trifling discrepancies did not lessen
+the genuine delight afforded the spectators by this unique design which,
+as a card proudly informed the world, was entirely the work of the
+employ�s of the firm.
+
+It was in a p�tisserie in the Rue de la Paroisse that we noticed an
+uninviting compound labelled "Pudding Anglais, 2 fr. 1/2 kilo." A little
+thought led us to recognise in this amalgamation a travesty of our old
+friend plum-pudding; but so revolting was its dark, bilious-looking
+exterior that we felt its claim to be accounted a compatriot almost
+insulting. And it was with secret gratification that towards the close
+of January we saw the same stolid, unhappy blocks awaiting purchasers.
+
+[Illustration: The Mill]
+
+The presence of the customary Tuesday market kept the streets busy till
+noon. But when the square was again empty of sellers and buyers
+Versailles relapsed into quietude. I wonder if any other town of its
+size is as silent as Versailles. There is little horse-traffic. Save for
+the weird, dirge-like drone of the electric cars, which seems in perfect
+consonance with the tone of sadness pervading the old town whose glory
+has departed, the clang of the wooden shoes on the rough pavement, and
+the infrequent beat of hoofs as a detachment of cavalry moves by,
+unnatural stillness seems to prevail.
+
+Of street music there was none, though once an old couple wailing a
+plaintive duet passed under our windows. Britain is not esteemed a
+melodious nation, yet the unclassical piano is ever with us, and even in
+the smallest provincial towns one is rarely out of hearing of the
+insistent note of some itinerant musician. And no matter how far one
+penetrates into the recesses of the country, he is always within reach
+of some bucolic rendering of the popular music-hall ditty of the year
+before last. But never during our stay in Versailles, a stay that
+included what is supposedly the gay time of the year, did we hear the
+sound of an instrument, or--with the one exception of the old couple,
+whom it would be rank flattery to term vocalists--the note of a voice
+raised in song.
+
+With us, New Year's Day was a quiet one. A dozen miles distant, Paris
+was welcoming the advent of the new century in a burst of feverish
+excitement. But despite temptations, we remained in drowsy Versailles,
+and spent several of the hours in the little room where two pallid
+Red-Cross knights, who were celebrating the occasion by sitting up for
+the first time, waited expectant of our coming as their one link with
+the outside world.
+
+[Illustration: The Presbytery]
+
+It was with a sincere thrill of pity that at _d�je�ner_ we glanced round
+the _salle-�-manger_ and found all the Ogams filling their accustomed
+solitary places. Only Dunois the comparatively young, and presumably
+brave, was absent. The others occupied their usual seats, eating with
+their unfailing air of introspective absorption. Nobody had cared enough
+for these lonely old men to ask them to fill a corner at their tables,
+even on New Year's Day. To judge by their regular attendance at the
+hotel meals, these men--all of whom, as shown by their wearing the red
+ribbon of the Legion of Honour, had merited distinction--had little
+hospitality offered them. Most probably they offered as little, for,
+throughout our stay, none ever had a friend to share his breakfast or
+dinner.
+
+The bearing of the hotel guests suggested absolute ignorance of one
+another's existence. The Colonels, as I have said in a previous chapter,
+were exceptions, but even they held intercourse only without the hotel
+walls. Day after day, month after month, year after year as we were
+told, these men had fed together, yet we never saw them betray even the
+most cursory interest in one another. They entered and departed without
+revealing, by word or look, cognisance of another human being's
+presence. Could one imagine a dozen men of any other nationality thus
+maintaining the same indifference over even a short period? I hope
+future experience will prove me wrong, but in the meantime my former
+conception of the French as a nation overflowing with _bonhomie_ and
+_camaraderie_ is rudely shaken.
+
+The day of the year would have passed without anything to distinguish it
+from its fellows had not the proprietor, who, by the way, was a Swiss,
+endeavoured by sundry little attentions to reveal his goodwill. Oysters
+usurped the place of the customary _hors d'oeuvres_ at breakfast, and
+the meal ended with _caf� noir_ and cognac handed round by the
+deferential Iorson as being "offered by the proprietor," who, entering
+during the progress of the _d�je�ner_, paid his personal respects to his
+_client�le_.
+
+The afternoon brought us a charming discovery. We had a boy guest with
+us at luncheon, a lonely boy left at school when his few
+compatriots--save only the two Red-Cross prisoners--had gone home on
+holiday. The day was bright and balmy; and while strolling in the park
+beyond the Petit Trianon, we stumbled by accident upon the _hameau_, the
+little village of counterfeit rusticity wherein Marie Antoinette loved
+to play at country life.
+
+Following a squirrel that sported among the trees, we had strayed from
+the beaten track, when, through the leafless branches, we caught sight
+of roofs and houses and, wandering towards them, found ourselves by the
+side of a miniature lake, round whose margin were grouped the daintiest
+rural cottages that monarch could desire or Court architect design.
+
+History had told us of the creation of this unique plaything of the
+capricious Queen, but we had thought of it as a thing of the past, a toy
+whose fragile beauty had been wrecked by the rude blows of the
+Revolution. The matter-of-fact and unromantic Baedeker, it is true, gives
+it half a line. After devoting pages to the Ch�teau, its grounds,
+pictures, and statues, and detailing exhaustively the riches of the
+Trianons, he blandly mentions the gardens of the Petit Trianon as
+containing "some fine exotic trees, an artificial lake, a Temple of
+Love, and a hamlet where the Court ladies played at peasant life."
+
+It is doubtful whether ten out of every hundred tourists who, Baedeker
+in hand, wander conscientiously over the grand Ch�teau--Palace, alas! no
+longer--ever notice the concluding words, or, reading its lukewarm
+recommendation, deem the hamlet worthy of a visit. The Ch�teau is an
+immense building crammed with artistic achievements, and by the time the
+sightseer of ordinary capacity has seen a tenth of the pictures, a third
+of the sculpture, and a half of the fountains, his endurance, if not all
+his patience, is exhausted.
+
+I must acknowledge that we, too, had visited Versailles without
+discovering that the _hameau_ still existed; so to chance upon it in the
+sunset glow of that winter evening seemed to carry us back to the time
+when the storm-cloud of the Revolution was yet no larger than a man's
+hand; to the day when Louis XVI., making for once a graceful speech,
+presented the site to his wife, saying: "You love flowers. Ah! well, I
+have a bouquet for you--the Petit Trianon." And his Queen, weary of the
+restrictions of Court ceremony--though it must be admitted that the
+willful Marie Antoinette ever declined to be hampered by
+convention--experiencing in her residence in the little house freedom
+from etiquette, pursued the novel pleasure to its furthest by commanding
+the erection in its grounds of a village wherein she might the better
+indulge her newly fledged fancy for make-believe rusticity.
+
+About the pillars supporting the verandah-roof of the chief cottage and
+that of the wide balcony above, roses and vines twined lovingly. And
+though it was the first day of January, the rose foliage was yet green
+and bunches of shrivelled grapes clung to the vines. It was lovely then;
+yet a day or two later, when a heavy snowfall had cast a white mantle
+over the village, and the little lake was frozen hard, the scene seemed
+still more beautiful in its ghostly purity.
+
+At first sight there was no sign of decay about the long-deserted
+hamlet. The windows were closed, but had it been early morning, one
+could easily have imagined that the pseudo villagers were asleep behind
+the shuttered casements, and that soon the Queen, in some charming
+_d�shabill�_, would come out to breathe the sweet morning air and to
+inhale the perfume of the climbing roses on the balcony overlooking the
+lake, wherein gold-fish darted to and fro among the water-lilies; or
+expect to see the King, from the steps of the little mill where he
+lodged, exchange blithe greetings with the maids of honour as they
+tripped gaily to the _laiterie_ to play at butter-making, or sauntered
+across the rustic bridge on their way to gather new-laid eggs at the
+farm.
+
+The sunset glamour had faded and the premature dusk of mid-winter was
+falling as, approaching nearer, we saw where the roof-thatch had
+decayed, where the insidious finger of Time had crumbled the stone
+walls. A chilly wind arising, moaned through the naked trees. The shadow
+of the guillotine seemed to brood oppressively over the scene, and,
+shuddering, we hastened away.
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: To the Place of Rest]
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+ICE-BOUND
+
+
+Even in the last days of December rosebuds had been trying to open on
+the standard bushes in the sheltered rose-garden of the Palace. But with
+the early nights of January a sudden frost seized the town in its icy
+grip, and, almost before we had time to realise the change of weather,
+pipes were frozen and hot-water bottles of strange design made their
+appearance in the upper corridors of the hotel. The naked cherubs in the
+park basins stood knee-deep in ice, skaters skimmed the smooth surface
+of the canal beyond the _tapis vert_, and in a twinkling Versailles
+became a town peopled by gnomes and brownies whose faces peeped quaintly
+from within conical hoods.
+
+Soldiers drew their cloak-hoods over their uniform caps. Postmen went
+their rounds thus snugly protected from the weather. The doddering old
+scavengers, plying their brooms among the great trees of the avenues,
+bore so strong a resemblance to the pixies who lurk in caves and woods,
+that we almost expected to see them vanish into some crevice in the
+gnarled roots of the trunks. Even the tiny acolytes trotting gravely in
+the funeral processions had their heads and shoulders shrouded in the
+prevailing hooded capes.
+
+[Illustration: While the Frost Holds]
+
+To us, accustomed though we were to an inclement winter climate, the
+chill seemed intense. So frigid was the atmosphere that the first step
+taken from the heated hotel hall into the outer air felt like putting
+one's face against an iceberg. All wraps of ordinary thickness appeared
+incapable of excluding the cold, and I sincerely envied the countless
+wearers of the dominant Capuchin cloaks.
+
+[Illustration: The Postman's Wrap]
+
+Our room was many-windowed, and no matter how high Karl piled the logs,
+nor how close we sat to the flames, our backs never felt really warm. It
+was only when night had fallen and the outside shutters were firmly
+closed that the thermometer suspended near the chimney-piece grudgingly
+consented to record temperate heat.
+
+[Illustration: A Lapful of Warmth]
+
+But there was at least one snug chamber in Versailles, and that was the
+room of the Red-Cross prisoners. However extravagant the degrees of
+frost registered without, the boys' sick-room was always pleasantly
+warm. How the good Soeur, who was on duty all day, managed to regulate
+the heat throughout the night-watches was her secret. A half-waking boy
+might catch a glimpse of her, apparently robed as by day, stealing out
+of the room; but so noiseless were her movements, that neither of the
+invalids ever saw her stealing in. They had a secret theory that in her
+own little apartment, which was just beyond theirs, the Soeur, garbed,
+hooded, and wearing rosary and the knotted rope of her Order, passed her
+nights in devotion. Certain it was that even the most glacial of
+weathers did not once avail to prevent her attending the Mass that was
+held at Notre Dame each morning before daybreak.
+
+[Illustration: The Daily Round]
+
+Frost-flowers dulled the inner glories of the shop windows with their
+unwelcome decoration. Even in the square on market mornings business
+flagged. The country folks, chilled by their cold drive to town,
+cowered, muffled in thick wraps, over their little charcoal stoves,
+lacking energy to call attention to their wares. The sage with the
+onions was absent, but the pretty girl in the red hood held her
+accustomed place, warming mittened fingers at a chaufferette which she
+held on her lap. The only person who gave no outward sign of misery was
+the boulang�re who, harnessed to her heavy hand-cart, toiled
+unflinchingly on her rounds.
+
+In the streets the comely little _bourgeoises_ hid their plump shoulders
+under ugly black knitted capes, and concealed their neat hands in clumsy
+worsted gloves. But despite the rigour of the atmosphere their heads,
+with the hair neatly dressed _� la Chinoise_, remained uncovered. It
+struck our unaccustomed eyes oddly to see these girls thus exposed,
+standing on the pavement in the teeth of some icy blast, talking to
+stalwart soldier friends, whose noses were their only visible feature.
+
+[Illustration: Three Babes and a Bonne]
+
+The ladies of Versailles give a thought to their waists, but they leave
+their ankles to Providence, and any one having experience of Versailles
+winter streets can fully sympathise with their trust; for even in dry
+sunny weather mud seems a spontaneous production that renders goloshes a
+necessity. And when frost holds the high-standing city in its frigid
+grasp the extreme cold forbids any idea of coquetry, and thickly lined
+boots with cloth uppers--a species of foot-gear that in grace of outline
+is decidedly suggestive of "arctics"--become the only comfortable wear.
+
+[Illustration: Snow in the Park]
+
+After a few days of thought-congealing cold--a cold so intense that
+sundry country people who had left their homes before dawn to drive into
+Paris with farm produce were taken dead from their market-carts at the
+end of the journey--the weather mercifully changed. A heavy snowfall now
+tempered the inclement air, and turned the leafless park into a fairy
+vision.
+
+The nights were still cold, but during the day the sun glinted warmly on
+the frozen waters of the gilded fountains and sparkled on the facets of
+the crisp snow. The marble benches in the sheltered nooks of the snug
+Ch�teau gardens were occupied by little groups, which usually consisted
+of a _bonne_ and a baby, or of a chevalier and a hopelessly unclassable
+dog; for the dogs of Versailles belong to breeds that no man living
+could classify, the most prevalent type in clumsiness of contour and
+astonishing shagginess of coat resembling nothing more natural than
+those human travesties of the canine race familiar to us in pantomime.
+
+Along the snow-covered paths under the leafless trees, on whose branches
+close-wreathed mistletoe hangs like rooks' nests, the statues stood like
+guardian angels of the scene. They had lost their air of aloofness and
+were at one with the white earth, just as the forest trees in their
+autumn dress of brown and russet appear more in unison with their parent
+soil than when decked in their bravery of summer greenery.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+THE HAUNTED CHATEAU
+
+
+[Illustration: A Veteran of the Chateau]
+
+The Ch�teau of Versailles, like the town, dozes through the winter, only
+half awakening on Sunday afternoons when the townsfolk make it their
+meeting-place. Then conscripts, in clumsy, ill-fitting uniforms, tread
+noisily over the shining _parqueterie_ floors, and burgesses gossip
+amicably in the dazzling _Galerie des Glaces_, where each morning
+courtiers were wont to await the uprising of their king. But on the
+weekdays visitors are of the rarest. Sometimes a few half-frozen people
+who have rashly automobiled thither from Paris alight at the Ch�teau
+gates, and take a hurried walk through the empty galleries to restore
+the circulation to their stiffened limbs before venturing to set forth
+on the return journey.
+
+Every weekday in the Place d'Armes, squads of conscripts are busily
+drilling, running hither and thither with unflagging energy, and the air
+resounds with the hoarse staccato cries of "Un! Deux! Trois!" wherewith
+they accompany their movements, cries that, heard from a short distance,
+exactly resemble the harsh barking of a legion of dogs.
+
+[Illustration: Un--Deux--Trois]
+
+Within the gates there is a sense of leisure: even the officials have
+ceased to anticipate visitors. In the _Cour Royale_ two little girls
+have cajoled an old guide into playing a game of ball. A custodian dozes
+by the great log fire in the bedroom of Louis XIV., where the warm
+firelight playing on the rich trappings lends such an air of occupation
+to the chamber, that--forgetting how time has turned to grey the once
+white ostrich plumes adorning the canopy of the bed, and that the
+priceless lace coverlet would probably fall to pieces at a touch--one
+almost expects the door to open for the entrance of Louis le Grand
+himself.
+
+To this room he came when he built the Palace wherein to hide from that
+grim summons with which the tower of the Royal sepulture of St. Denis,
+visible from his former residence, seemed to threaten him. And here it
+was that Death, after long seeking, found him. We can see the little
+great-grandson who was to succeed, lifted on to the bed of the dying
+monarch.
+
+[Illustration: The Bedchamber of Louis XIV]
+
+"What is your name, my child?" asks the King.
+
+"Louis XV;" replies the infant, taking brevet-rank. And nearly sixty
+years later we see the child, his wasted life at an end, dying of
+virulent smallpox under the same roof, deserted by all save his devoted
+daughters.
+
+To me the Palace of Versailles is peopled by the ghosts of many women. A
+few of them are dowdy and good, but by far the greater number are
+graceful and wicked. How infinitely easier it is to make a good bad
+reputation than to achieve even a bad good one! "Tell us stories about
+naughty children," we used to beseech our nurses. And as our years
+increase we still yawn over the doings of the righteous, while our
+interest in the ways of transgressors only strengthens.
+
+We all know by heart the romantic lives of the shrinking La Valli�re, of
+Madame de Montespan the impassioned, of sleek Madame de Maintenon--the
+trio of beauties honoured by the admiration of Louis le Grand; and of
+the bevy of favourites of Louis XV, the three fair and short-lived
+sisters de Mailly-Nesle, the frail Pompadour who mingled scheming with
+debauchery, and the fascinating but irresponsible Du Barry. Even the most
+minute details of Marie Antoinette's tragic career are fresh in our
+memories, but which of us can remember the part in the history of France
+played by Marie Leczinska? Yet, apart from her claim to notability as
+having been the last queen who ended her days on the French throne, her
+story is full of romantic interest.
+
+Thrusting aside the flimsy veil of Time, we find Marie Leczinska the
+penniless daughter of an exiled Polish king who is living in retirement
+in a dilapidated commandatory at a little town in Alsace. It is easy to
+picture the shabby room wherein the unforeseeing Marie sits content
+between her mother and grandmother, all three diligently broidering
+altar cloths. Upon the peaceful scene the father enters, overcome by
+emotion, trembling. His face announces great news, before he can school
+his voice to speak.
+
+"Why, father! Have you been recalled to the throne of Poland?" asks
+Marie, and the na�ve question reveals that many years of banishment have
+not quenched in the hearts of the exiles the hope of a return to their
+beloved Poland.
+
+"No, my daughter, but you are to be Queen of France," replies the
+father. "Let us thank God."
+
+[Illustration: Marie Leczinska]
+
+Knowing the sequel, one wonders if it was for a blessing or a curse that
+the refugees, kneeling in that meagre room in the old house at
+Wissenberg, returned thanks.
+
+Certain it is that the ministers of the boy-monarch were actuated more
+by a craving to further their own ends than either by the desire to
+please God or to honour their King, in selecting this obscure maiden
+from the list of ninety-nine marriageable princesses that had been drawn
+up at Versailles. A dowerless damsel possessed of no influential
+relatives is not in a position to be exacting, and, whate'er befell,
+poor outlawed Stanislas Poniatowski could not have taken up arms in
+defence of his daughter.
+
+Having a sincere regard for unaffected Marie Leczinska, I regret being
+obliged to admit that, even in youth, "comely" was the most effusive
+adjective that could veraciously be awarded her. And it is only in the
+lowest of whispers that I will admit that she was seven years older than
+her handsome husband, whose years did not then number seventeen. Yet is
+there indubitable charm in the simple grace wherewith Marie accepted her
+marvellous transformation from pauper to queen. She disarmed criticism
+by refusing to conceal her former poverty. "This is the first time in my
+life I have been able to make presents," she frankly told the ladies of
+the Court, as she distributed among them her newly got trinkets.
+
+It is pleasant to remember that the early years of her wedded life
+passed harmoniously. Louis, though never passionately enamoured of his
+wife, yet loved her with the warm affection a young man bestows on the
+first woman he has possessed. And that Marie was wholly content there is
+little doubt. She was no gadabout. Versailles satisfied her. Three years
+passed before she visited Paris, and then the visit was more of the
+nature of a pilgrimage than of a State progress. Twin daughters had
+blessed the union, and the Queen journeyed to the churches of Notre Dame
+and Saint Genevi�ve to crave from Heaven the boon of a Dauphin: a prayer
+which a year later was answered.
+
+But clouds were gathering apace. As he grew into manhood the domestic
+virtues palled upon Louis. He tired of the needlework which, doubtless,
+Marie's skilled hands had taught him. We recall how, sitting between her
+mother and grandmother, the future Queen had broidered altar cloths.
+Marie Leczinska was an adoring mother; possibly her devotion to their
+rapidly increasing family wearied him. Being little more than a child
+himself, the King is scarcely likely to have found the infantile society
+so engaging as did the mother. Thus began that series of foolish
+infidelities that, characterised by extreme timidity and secrecy at
+first, was latterly flaunted in the face of the world.
+
+Marie's life was not a smooth one, but it was happier than that of her
+Royal spouse. To me there is nothing sadder, nothing more sordid in
+history, than the feeble, useless existence of Louis XV., whose early
+years promised so well. It is pitiful to look at the magnificent
+portrait, still hanging in the palace where he reigned, of the
+child-king seated in his robes of State, the sceptre in his hand,
+looking with eyes of innocent wonder into the future, then to think upon
+the depth of degradation reached by the once revered Monarch before his
+body was dragged in dishonour and darkness to its last resting-place.
+
+[Illustration: Madame Adelaide]
+
+Pleasanter figures that haunt the Ch�teau are those of the six pretty
+daughters of Louis and Marie Leczinska. There are the ill-starred twins,
+Elizabeth and Henrietta: Madame Elizabeth, who never lost the love of
+her old home, and, though married, before entering her teens, to the
+Infanta of Spain, retired, after a life of disappointment, to her
+beloved Versailles to die; and the gentle Henrietta who, cherishing an
+unlucky passion for the young Duc de Chartres, pined quietly away after
+witnessing her lover wed to another.
+
+Then there is Adelaide, whom Nattier loved to paint, portraying her
+sometimes as a lightly clad goddess, sometimes sitting demurely in a
+pretty frock. Good Nattier! there is a later portrait of himself in
+complacent middle age surrounded by his wife and children; but I like to
+think that, when he spent so many days at the Palace painting the young
+Princess, some tenderer influence than mere artistic skill lent cunning
+to his brush.
+
+When the daughters of Louis XV. were sent to be educated at a convent,
+Adelaide it was who, by tearful protest to her royal father, gained
+permission to remain at the Palace while her sisters meekly endured
+their banishment. From this instance of childish character one would
+have anticipated a career for Madame Adelaide, and I hate being obliged
+to think of her merely developing into one of the three spinster aunts
+of Louis XVI. who, residing under the same roof, turned coldly
+disapproving eyes upon the manifold frailties of their niece, Marie
+Antoinette.
+
+The sisters Victoire and Sophie are faint shades leaving no impression
+on the memory; but there is another spirit, clad in the sombre garb of a
+Carmelite nun, who, standing aloof, looks with the calm eyes of peace on
+the motley throng. It is Louise, the youngest sister of all, who, deeply
+grieved by her father's infatuation for the Du Barry--an infatuation
+which, beginning within a month of Marie Leczinska's decease, ended only
+when on his deathbed the dying Monarch prepared to receive absolution by
+bidding his inamorata farewell--resolved to flee her profligate
+surroundings and devote her life to holiness.
+
+It is affecting to think of the gentle Louise, secretly anticipating the
+rigours of convent life, torturing her delicate skin by wearing coarse
+serge, and burning tallow candles in her chamber to accustom herself to
+their detestable odour.
+
+Her father's consent gained, Louise still tarried at Versailles. Perhaps
+the King's daughter shrank from voluntarily beginning a life of
+imprisoned drudgery. We know that at this period she passed many hours
+reading contemporary history, knowing that, once within the convent
+walls, the study of none but sacred literature would be permitted.
+
+Then came an April morning when Louise, who had kept her intention
+secret from all save her father, left the Palace never to return.
+France, in a state of joyous excitement, was eagerly anticipating the
+arrival of Marie Antoinette, who was setting forth on the first stage of
+that triumphal journey which had so tragic an ending. Already the gay
+clamour of wedding-bells filled the air; and Louise may have feared
+that, did she linger at Versailles, the enticing vanities of the world
+might change the current of her thoughts.
+
+Chief among the impalpable throng that people the state galleries is
+Marie Antoinette, and her spirit shows us many faces. It is charming,
+haughty, considerate, headstrong, frivolous, thoughtful, degraded,
+dignified, in quick succession. We see her arrive at the Palace amid the
+tumultuous adoration of the crowd, and leave amidst its execrations.
+Sometimes she is richly apparelled, as befits a queen; anon she sports
+the motley trappings of a mountebank. The courtyard that saw the
+departure of Madame Louise witnesses Marie Antoinette, returning at
+daybreak in company with her brother-in-law from some festivity
+unbecoming a queen, refused admittance by the King's express command.
+
+[Illustration: Louis Quatorze]
+
+Many of the attendant spirits who haunt Marie Antoinette's ghostly
+footsteps as they haunted her earthly ones are malefic. Most are women,
+and all are young and fair. There is Madame Roland, who, taken as a
+young girl to the Palace to peep at the Royalties, became imbued by that
+jealous hatred which only the Queen's death could appease.
+
+"If I stay here much longer," she told that kindly mother who sought to
+give her a treat by showing her Court life, "I shall detest these people
+so much that I shall be unable to hide my hatred."
+
+It is easy to fancy the girl's evil face scowling at the unconscious
+Queen, before she leaves to pen those inflammatory pamphlets which are
+to prove the Sovereign's undoing and her own. For by some whim of fate
+Madame Roland was executed on the very scaffold to which her envenomed
+writings had driven Marie Antoinette.
+
+A spectre that impresses as wearing rags under a gorgeous robe, lurks
+among the foliage of the quiet _bosquet_ beyond the orangerie. It is the
+infamous Madame de la Motte, chief of adventuresses, and it was in that
+secluded grove that her tool, Cardinal de Rohan, had his pretended
+interview with the Queen. Poor, perfidious Contesse! what an existence
+of alternate beggarly poverty and beggarly riches was hers before that
+last scene of all when she lay broken and bruised almost beyond human
+semblance in that dingy London courtyard beneath the window from which,
+in a mad attempt to escape arrest, she had thrown herself.
+
+Through the Royal salons flits a presence whereat the shades of the
+Royal Princesses look askance: that of the frolicsome, good-natured,
+irresponsible Du Barry. A soulless ephemera she, with no ambitions or
+aspirations, save that, having quitted the grub stage, she desires to be
+as brilliant a butterfly as possible. Close in attendance on her moves
+an ebon shadow--Zamora, the ingrate foundling who, reared by the
+Duchesse, swore that he would make his benefactress ascend the scaffold,
+and kept his oath. For our last sight of the prodigal, warm-hearted Du
+Barry, plaything of the aged King, is on the guillotine, where in
+agonies of terror she fruitlessly appeals to her executioner's clemency.
+
+But of all the bygone dames who haunt the grand Ch�teau, the only one I
+detest is probably the most irreproachable of all--Madame de Maintenon.
+There is something so repulsively sanctimonious in her aspect, something
+so crafty in the method wherewith, under the cloak of religion, she
+wormed her way into high places, ousting--always in the name of
+propriety--those who had helped her. Her stepping-stone to Royal favour
+was handsome, impetuous Madame de Montespan, who, taking compassion on
+her widowed poverty, appointed Madame Scarron, as she then was,
+governess of her children, only to find her _prot�g�e_ usurp her place
+both in the honours of the King and in the affections of their children.
+
+The natural heart rebels against the "unco guid," and Madame de
+Maintenon, with her smooth expression, double chin, sober garments and
+ever-present symbols of piety, revolts me. I know it is wrong. I know
+that historians laud her for the wholesome influence she exercised upon
+the mind of a king who had grown timorous with years; that the dying
+Queen declared that she owed the King's kindness to her during the last
+twenty years of her life entirely to Madame de Maintenon. But we know
+also that six months after the Queen's death an unwonted light showed at
+midnight in the Chapel Royal, where Madame de Maintenon--the child of a
+prison cell--was becoming the legal though unacknowledged wife of Louis
+XIV. The impassioned, uncalculating de Montespan had given the handsome
+Monarch her all without stipulation. Truly the career of Madame de
+Maintenon was a triumph of virtue over vice; and yet of all that
+heedless, wanton throng, my soul detests only her.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Where the Queen Played]
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+MARIE ANTOINETTE
+
+
+Stereotyped sights are rarely the most engrossing. At the Palace of
+Versailles the _petits appartements de la Reine_, those tiny rooms whose
+grey old-world furniture might have been in use yesterday, to me hold
+more actuality than all the regal salons in whose vast emptiness
+footsteps reverberate like echoes from the past.
+
+In the pretty sitting-room the coverings to-day are a reproduction of
+the same pale blue satin that draped the furniture in the days when
+queens preferred the snug seclusion of those dainty rooms overlooking
+the dank inner courtyard to the frigid grandeur of their State chambers.
+Therein it was that Marie Leczinska was wont to instruct her young
+daughters in the virtues as she had known them in her girlhood's
+thread-bare home, not as her residence at the profligate French Court
+had taught her to understand them.
+
+[Illustration: Marie Antoinette]
+
+The heavy gilt bolts bearing the interlaced initials M.A. remind us that
+these, too, were the favourite rooms of Marie Antoinette, and that in
+all probability the cunningly entwined bolts were the handiwork of her
+honest spouse, who wrought at his blacksmith forge below while his wife
+flirted above. But in truth the _petits appartements_ are instinct with
+memories of Marie Antoinette, and it is difficult to think of any save
+only her occupying them. The beautiful _coffre_ presented to her with
+the layette of the Dauphin still stands on a table in an adjoining
+chamber, and the paintings on its white silk casing are scarcely faded
+yet, though the decorative ruching of green silk leaves has long ago
+fallen into decay.
+
+A step farther is the little white and gold boudoir which still holds
+the mirror that gave the haughty Queen her first premonition of the
+catastrophe that awaited her. Viewed casually the triple mirror, lining
+an alcove wherein stands a couch garlanded with flowers, betrays no
+sinister qualities. But any visitor who approaches looking at his
+reflection where at the left the side panels meet the angle of the wall,
+will be greeted by a sight similar to that whose tragic suggestion made
+even the haughty Queen pause a moment in her reckless career. For in the
+innocent appearing mirrors the gazer is reflected without a head.
+
+It was through this liliputian suite, this strip of homeliness so
+artfully introduced into a palace, that Marie Antoinette fled on that
+fateful August morning when the mob of infuriated women invaded the
+Ch�teau.
+
+Knowing this, I was puzzling over the transparent fact that either of
+the apparent exits would have led her directly into the hands of the
+enemy, when the idea of a secret staircase suggested itself. A little
+judicious inquiry elicited the information that one did exist. "But it
+is not seen. It is locked. To view it, an order from the
+Commissary--that is necessary," explained the old guide.
+
+To know that a secret staircase, and one of such vivid historical
+importance, was at hand, and not to have seen it would have been too
+tantalising. The "Commissary" was an unknown quantity, and for a space
+it seemed as though our desire would be ungratified. Happily the
+knowledge of our interest awoke a kindly reciprocity in our guide, who,
+hurrying off, quickly returned with the venerable custodian of the key.
+A moment later, the unobtrusive panel that concealed the exit flew open
+at its touch, and the secret staircase, dark, narrow, and hoary with the
+dust of years, lay before us.
+
+[Illustration: The Secret Stair]
+
+Many must have been the romantic meetings aided by those diminutive
+steps, but, peering into their shadows, we saw nothing but a vision of
+Marie Antoinette, half clad in dishevelled wrappings of petticoat and
+shawl, flying distracted from the vengeance of the furies through the
+refuge of the low-roofed stairway.
+
+In my ingenuous youth, when studying French history, I evolved a theory
+which seemed, to myself at least, to account satisfactorily for the
+radical differences distinguishing Louis XVI. from his brothers and
+antecedents. Finding that, when a delicate infant, he had been sent to
+the country to nurse, I rushed to the conclusion that the royal infant
+had died, and that his foster-mother, fearful of the consequences, had
+substituted a child of her own in his place. The literature of the
+nursery is full of instances that seemed to suggest the probability of
+my conjecture being correct.
+
+As a youth, Louis had proved himself both awkward and clumsy. He was
+loutish, silent in company, ill at ease in his princely surroundings,
+and in all respects unlike his younger brothers. He was honest, sincere,
+pious, a faithful husband, a devoted father; amply endowed, indeed, with
+the middle-class virtues which at that period were but rarely found in
+palaces. To my childish reasoning the most convincing proof lay in his
+innate craving for physical labour; a craving that no ridicule could
+dispel.
+
+With the romantic enthusiasm of youth, I used to fancy the peasant
+mother stealing into the Palace among the spectators who daily were
+permitted to view the royal couple at dinner, and imagine her, having
+seen the King, depart glorying secretly in the strategy that had raised
+her son to so high an estate. There was another picture, in whose
+dramatic misery I used to revel. It showed the unknown mother, who had
+discovered that by her own act she had condemned her innocent son to
+suffer for the sins of past generations of royal profligates, journeying
+to Paris (in my dreams she always wore sabots and walked the entire
+distance in a state of extreme physical exhaustion) with the intention
+of preventing his execution by declaring his lowly parentage to the mob.
+The final tableau revealed her, footsore and weary, reaching within
+sight of the guillotine just in time to see the executioner holding up
+her son's severed head. I think my imaginary heroine died of a broken
+heart at this juncture, a catastrophe that would naturally account for
+her secret dying with her.
+
+[Illustration: Madame Sans T�te]
+
+During our winter stay at Versailles, my childish phantasies recurred to
+me, and I almost found them feasible. What an amazing irony of fate it
+would have shown had a son of the soil expired to expiate the crimes of
+sovereigns!
+
+But more pitiful by far than the saddest of illusions is the sordid
+reality of a scene indelibly imprinted on my mental vision. Memory takes
+me back to the twilight of a spring Sunday several years ago, when in
+the wake of a cluster of market folks we wandered into the old Cathedral
+of St. Denis. Deep in the sombre shadows of the crypt a light gleamed
+faintly through a narrow slit in the stone wall. Approaching, we looked
+into a gloomy vault wherein, just visible by the ray of a solitary
+candle, lay two zinc coffins.
+
+Earth holds no more dismal sepulchre than that dark vault, through the
+crevice in whose wall the blue-bloused marketers cast curious glances.
+Yet within these grim coffins lie two bodies with their severed heads,
+all that remains mortal of the haughty Marie Antoinette and other humble
+spouse.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Illumination]
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+THE PRISONERS RELEASED
+
+
+The first dread days, when the Boy, heavy with fever, seemed scarcely to
+realise our presence, were swiftly followed by placid hours when he lay
+and smiled in blissful content, craving nothing, now that we were all
+together again. But this state of beatitude was quickly ousted by a
+period of discontent, when the hunger fiend reigned supreme in the
+little room.
+
+"_Manger, manger, manger, tout le temps!"_ Thus the nurse epitomised the
+converse of her charges. And indeed she was right, for, from morning
+till night, the prisoners' solitary topic of conversation was food.
+During the first ten days their diet consisted solely of boiled milk,
+and as that time wore to a close the number of quarts consumed increased
+daily, until Paul, the chief porter, seemed ever ascending the little
+outside stair carrying full bottles of milk, or descending laden with
+empty ones.
+
+"Milk doesn't count. When shall we be allowed food, _real_ food?" was
+the constant cry, and their relief was abounding when, on Christmas Day,
+the doctor withdrew his prohibition, and permitted an approach to the
+desired solids. But even then the prisoners, to their loudly voiced
+disappointment, discovered that their only choice lay between vermicelli
+and tapioca, nursery dishes which at home they would have despised.
+
+"_Tapioca!_ Imagine tapioca for a Christmas dinner!" the invalids
+exclaimed with disgust. But that scorn did not prevent them devouring
+the mess and eagerly demanding more. And thereafter the saucepan
+simmering over the gas-jet in the outer room seemed ever full of savoury
+spoon-meat.
+
+I doubt if any zealous mother-bird ever had a busier time feeding her
+fledglings than had the good Sister in satisfying the appetites of these
+callow cormorants. To witness the French nun seeking to allay the hunger
+of these voracious schoolboy aliens was to picture a wren trying to fill
+the ever-gaping beaks of two young cuckoos whom an adverse fate had
+dropped into her nest.
+
+As the days wore by, the embargo placed upon our desire to cater for the
+invalids was gradually lifted, and little things such as sponge biscuits
+and pears crept in to vary the monotony of the milk diet.
+
+New Year's Day held a tangible excitement, for that morning saw a
+modified return to ordinary food, and, in place of bottles of milk,
+Paul's load consisted of such tempting selections from the school meals
+as were deemed desirable for the invalids. Poultry not being included in
+the school menus, we raided a cooked-provision shop and carried off a
+plump, well-browned chicken. The approbation which met this venture
+resulted in our supplying a succession of _poulettes_, which, at the
+invalids' express desire, were smuggled into their room under my cloak.
+Not that there was the most remote necessity for concealment, but the
+invalids, whose sole interest centred in food, laboured under the absurd
+idea that, did the authorities know they were being supplied from
+without, their regular meals would be curtailed to prevent them
+over-eating.
+
+The point of interest, for the Red-Cross prisoners at least, in our
+morning visits lay in the unveiling of the eatables we had brought.
+School food, however well arranged, is necessarily stereotyped, and the
+element of the unknown ever lurked in our packages. The sugar-sticks,
+chocolates, fruit, little cakes, or what we had chanced to bring, were
+carefully examined, criticised, and promptly devoured.
+
+A slight refreshment was served them during our short stay, and when we
+departed we left them eagerly anticipating luncheon. At gloaming, when
+we returned, it was to find them busy with half-yards of the long crusty
+loaves, plates of jelly, and tumblers, filled with milk on our Boy's
+part, and with well diluted wine on that of his fellow sufferer.
+
+Fear of starvation being momentarily averted, the Soeur used to light
+fresh candles around the tiny Holy _B�b�_ on the still green
+Christmas-tree, and for a space we sat quietly enjoying the radiance.
+But by the time the last candle had flickered out, and the glow of a
+commonplace paraffin lamp lighted the gloom, nature again demanded
+nourishment; and we bade the prisoners farewell for the night, happy in
+the knowledge that supper, sleep, and breakfast would pleasantly while
+away the hours till our return.
+
+The elder Red-Cross knight was a tall, good-looking lad of sixteen, the
+age when a boy wears painfully high collars, shaves surreptitiously--and
+unnecessarily--with his pen-knife, talks to his juniors about the
+tobacco he smokes in a week, and cherishes an undying passion for a
+maiden older than himself. He was ever an interesting study, though I do
+not think I really loved him until he confided his affairs of the heart,
+and entrusted me with the writing of his love-letters. I know that
+behind my back he invariably referred to me as "Ma"; but as he openly
+addressed the unconscious nun as "you giddy old girl," "Ma" might almost
+be termed respectful, and I think our regard was mutual.
+
+All things come to him who waits. There came a night when for the last
+time we sat together around the little tree, watching the Soeur light the
+candles that illuminated the Holy _B�b�_. On the morrow the prisoners,
+carefully disinfected, and bearing the order of their release in the
+form of a medical certificate, would be set free.
+
+It clouded our gladness to know that before the patient Sister stretched
+another period of isolation. Just that day another pupil had developed
+scarlet fever, and only awaited our boys' departure to occupy the little
+room. Hearing that this fresh prisoner lay under sentence of durance
+vile, we suggested that all the toys--chiefly remnants of shattered
+armies that, on hearing of the Boy's illness, we had brought from the
+home playroom he had outgrown--might be left for him instead of being
+sent away to be burnt.
+
+The Boy's bright face dulled. "If it had been anybody else! But, mother,
+I don't think you know that he is the one French boy we disliked. It was
+he who always shouted '_� bas les Anglais!_' in the playground."
+
+The reflection that for weary weeks this obnoxious boy would be the only
+inmate of the _bo�te_, as the invalids delighted to call their
+sick-room, overcame his antipathetic feeling, and he softened so far as
+to indite a polite little French note offering his late enemy his
+sympathy, and formally bequeathing to him the reversion of his toys,
+including the _arbre de No�l_ with all its decorations, except the
+little waxen Jesus nestling in the manger of yellow corn; the Soeur had
+already declared her intention of preserving that among her treasures.
+
+The time that had opened so gloomily had passed, and now that it was
+over we could look back upon many happy hours spent within the dingy
+prison walls. And our thoughts were in unison, for the Boy, abruptly
+breaking the silence, said: "And after all, it hasn't been such a bad
+time. Do you know, I really think I've rather enjoyed it!"
+
+
+
+
+L'ENVOI
+
+
+[Illustration: L'Envoi]
+
+Heavy skies lowered above us, the landscape seen through the driving
+mist-wreaths showed a depressing repetition of drabs and greys as we
+journeyed towards Calais. But, snugly ensconced in the _train rapide_,
+our hearts beat high with joy, for at last were we homeward bound. The
+weeks of exile in the stately old town had ended. For the last time the
+good Sister had lit us down the worn stone steps. As we sped seawards
+across the bleak country, our thoughts flew back to her, and to the
+little room with the red cross on its casement, wherein, although our
+prisoners were released, another term of nursing had already begun for
+her. In contrast with her life of cheerful self-abnegation, ours seemed
+selfish, meaningless, and empty.
+
+Dear nameless Sister! She had been an angel of mercy to us in a
+troublous time, and though our earthly paths may never again cross, our
+hearts will ever hold her memory sacred.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+_By the same Author_
+
+OUR STOLEN SUMMER
+
+THE RECORD OF A ROUNDABOUT TOUR
+
+BY
+
+MARY STUART BOYD
+
+WITH ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY SKETCHES BY A.S. BOYD
+
+_Extracts from Reviews_
+
+THE WORLD.--"To be able to go round the world nowadays, and write a
+descriptive record of the tour that is vivid and fresh is a positive
+literary feat. It has been successfully accomplished in _Our Stolen
+Summer_ by Mrs. Boyd, who with no ulterior object in making a book
+journeyed over four continents in company with her husband, and picked
+up _en route_ matter for one of the pleasantest, most humorous, and
+least pretentious books of travel we have read for many a day. It is
+admirably illustrated by Mr. A.S. Boyd, whose sense of humour happily
+matches that of his observant wife, and the reader who can lay aside
+this picturesque and truly delightful volume without sincere regret must
+have a dull and dreary mind."
+
+PUNCH.--"_Our Stolen Summer_ is calculated to lead to wholesale breakage
+of the Eighth Commandment. Certainly, my Baronite, reading the
+fascinating record of a roundabout tour, feels prompted to steal away.
+Mary Stuart Boyd, who pens the record, has the great advantage of the
+collaboration of A.S.B., whose signature is familiar in _Mr. Punch's_
+Picture Gallery.... A charming book."
+
+SPECTATOR.--"The writer, by the help of a ready pen and of the pencil of
+a skilful illustrator, has given us in this handsome volume a number of
+attractive pictures of distant places.... It is good to read and
+pleasant to look at."
+
+TRUTH.--"You will find no pleasanter holiday reading than _Our Stolen
+Summer_."
+
+ACADEMY.--"A fresh record, and worth the reading. Of such is Mrs. Boyd's
+volume, which her husband has illustrated profusely with spirited line
+drawings."
+
+FIELD.--"One of the brightest books of travel that it has been our good
+fortune to read. The illustrations deserve a notice to themselves. They
+are far and away better than those which we usually get in books of this
+kind, and we do not know that we can bestow higher praise on them than
+to say that they are worthy of the letterpress which they illustrate."
+
+LAND AND WATER.--"A delightful sketch of a delightful journey.... _Our
+Stolen Summer_ is a book which will be read with equal delight on a lazy
+summer holiday, or in the heart of London when the streets are enveloped
+in fog and the rain is beating against the window panes. Mr. Boyd's
+sketches are simply admirable."
+
+SPHERE.--"A delightful record of travel. Mrs. Boyd is never dull, and
+there is plenty of acute observation throughout her pleasant story of
+travel. My Boyd's illustrations which appear on practically every page,
+are, it need scarcely be said, up to the high level that is already
+familiar to students of his black-and-white work."
+
+LADIES' FIELD.--"A singularly delightful and unaffected book of travel."
+
+MADAME.--"One of the most delightful books of travel it has been our
+good fortune to read."
+
+MORNING POST.--"If the encouragement of globe-trotting be a virtuous
+action, then certainly Mrs. Stuart Boyd has deserved well of her
+country. To read her book is to conceive an insensate desire to be off
+and away on 'the long trail' at all hazards and at all costs.... Mr.
+Boyd's illustrations add greatly to the interest and charm of the book.
+There is movement, atmosphere, and sunshine in them."
+
+STANDARD.--"Mrs. Boyd went with her husband round the world, and the
+latter--an artist with a sense of humour--kept his hand in practice by
+making droll sketches of people encountered by the way, which heighten
+the charm of his wife's vivacious description of a _Stolen Summer_. Mrs.
+Boyd has quick eyes and an open mind, and writes with sense and
+sensibility."
+
+DAILY TELEGRAPH.--"It is not so much what Mrs. Boyd has to tell as the
+invariable good humour and brightness with which she records even the
+most familiar things that makes the charm of her excellent diary."
+
+DAILY CHRONICLE.--"Mrs. Boyd has written the log with sparkle and
+observation--seeing many things that the mere man-traveller would miss.
+Mr. Boyd's sketches are, of course, excellent."
+
+PALL MALL GAZETTE.--"Mrs. Boyd writes with so much buoyancy, and her
+humour is so unexpected and unfailing, that it is safe to say that there
+is not a dull page from first to last in this record of a tour round the
+world... Mr. A.S. Boyd's numerous illustrations show him at his very
+best."
+
+GLOBE.--"A work to acquire as well as to peruse."
+
+WESTMINSTER GAZETTE.--"The narrative from beginning to end does not
+contain a dull page. Of Mr. Boyd's numerous sketches it is only
+necessary to say that they are excellent. Altogether _Our Stolen Summer_
+will be found to be one of the most fascinating of recent books of
+travel."
+
+SUNDAY TIMES.--"Brilliantly and entertainingly written, and liberally
+illustrated by an acknowledged master of the art of black and white."
+
+SCOTSMAN.--"A beautiful and fascinating book.... Pen and pencil sketches
+alike have grace, nerve, and humour, and are alive with human interest
+and observation."
+
+GLASGOW HERALD.--"One of the most delightful travel-books of recent
+times.... Mrs. Boyd's volume must commend itself to people who
+contemplate visiting the other side of the globe and to all stay-at-home
+travellers as well."
+
+DAILY FREE PRESS.--"Mrs. Boyd is an admirable descriptive
+writer--observant, humorous, and sympathetic. Without illustrations,
+_Our Stolen Summer_ would be a notable addition to the literature of
+travel; with Mr. Boyd's collaboration it is almost unique."
+
+LEEDS MERCURY.--"Vivacious and diverting record."
+
+YORKSHIRE DAILY POST.--"For such a book there could be nothing but
+praise if one wrote columns about it."
+
+BIRMINGHAM DAILY POST.--"A singularly happy and interesting record of a
+most enjoyable tour."
+
+NORTHERN WHIG.--"Shrewdness of observation, with not a little humour and
+a real literary gift, mark the story of _Our Stolen Summer_."
+
+THE BOOKMAN.--"Mrs. Boyd writes with so much brightness, such vivacity
+and picturesqueness of style, that although the volume runs to close
+upon four hundred pages there is not a dull page among them. The success
+of _Our Stolen Summer_, however, is due as much to the artist as to the
+author; and praise must be equally divided. Mr. Boyd's sketches are
+spirited, clever, full of humour and sympathetic observation. Without a
+word of letter-press they would have formed an excellent travel-book;
+taken in conjunction with Mrs. Boyd's narrative they are irresistible."
+
+
+
+
+LONDON AND EDINBURGH: WILLIAM BLACKWOOD & SONS
+
+Illustrated by A.S. Boyd
+
+A LOWDEN SABBATH MORN
+
+BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON
+
+WITH TWENTY-SEVEN PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS BY A.S. BOYD
+
+_Extracts from Reviews_
+
+THE TIMES.--"The characters whom Stevenson had in his mind's eye are all
+cleverly pictured, and the drawings may be truthfully said to illustrate
+the writer's ideas--a quality that seldom resides in illustrations....
+All are faithfully presented as only one who has known them intimately
+could present them.... Mr. Boyd's talent for black-and-white work has
+never found happier expression."
+
+MORNING POST.--"It is impossible to imagine anything more likely to
+appeal to the sentiment of the Scottish people throughout the world than
+this series of pictures, instinct with the spirit of their land."
+
+DAILY TELEGRAPH.--"One of the happiest combinations of author and artist
+which has been seen of late years. Mr. Boyd has entered thoroughly into
+the spirit of the lines, and his figures are instinct with graceful
+humour."
+
+DAILY CHRONICLE.--"Mr. Boyd is to be congratulated (as R. L. S. would
+assuredly have granted) upon interpreting so vividly a notable feature
+in the national life of Scotland."
+
+ATHENAEUM.--"The task of illustrating Stevenson's verses was most
+difficult, because it demands from the artist knowledge of local
+circumstances and characteristic details. Mr. Boyd's success in making
+us see so plainly the moods and manners of the 'restin' ploughman' while
+he 'daundered' in his garden and 'raxed his limbs' is the more to be
+enjoyed and praised."
+
+PALL MALL GAZETTE.--"Followers of the master will appreciate this
+beautiful book for its accurate interpretation of the poem as well as
+for its excellent drawing."
+
+ST. JAMES'S GAZETTE.--"There is plenty of good Scotch character in the
+illustrations, and a quiet observation of the humours of a parish, with
+such annals as those recorded by Gait."
+
+ACADEMY.--"An attractive book."
+
+SATURDAY REVIEW.--"In saying therefore that Mr. Boyd's
+illustrations--there is a full page drawing for each verse--are not only
+worthy of the poem, but actually emphasise and define its merits, we
+give the book the highest possible praise. It is a volume which should
+be added to the library of every collector."
+
+SPECTATOR.--"These illustrations to Mr. Stevenson's Scots poem are
+distinctly clever, especially in their characterisation of the various
+attendants at the village kirk."
+
+SPEAKER.--"The book presents very vividly some of the aspects (both
+humorous and pathetic) of a Scottish rural lowland parish, and will
+doubtless touch a chord in the heart of Scotsmen throughout the world."
+
+OUTLOOK.--"Many of Mr. Stevenson's admirers the world over have long
+desired that such a classic poem should be faithfully and adequately
+illustrated, and they will give a hearty welcome to this most handsome
+quarto."
+
+SCOTSMAN.--"One way and another the book is wholly delightful."
+
+GLASGOW EVENING NEWS.--"Mr. Boyd's contributions to a volume which ought
+to be popular with Scots in every part of the world, are full of pawky
+humour, and their realism is so pronounced that we seem to have known
+the models in the life."
+
+DUNDEE ADVERTISER.--"This is a volume to be treasured alike for the sake
+of the poet, of the artist, and of that form of Scottish life which is
+rapidly disappearing before the march of progress."
+
+ARBROATH HERALD.--"Mr. Boyd has represented these pictures in line
+sketches, which are characterised at once by the strength and confidence
+of a masterful draughtsman and the insight of a keen observer of
+character, who has long been familiar with the types presented in
+Stevenson's poem."
+
+GOOD WORDS.--"Mr. Boyd has portrayed, with here and there a happy trait
+of grace or humour beyond the wording of the text, the very scene and
+people. Each of the illustrations has a charm and freshness of its own."
+
+ART JOURNAL.--"Mr. Boyd's knowledge of Lothian peasants and their
+manners is as complete as Stevenson's. His drawings place in pictorial
+view the poet's thoughts, while they greatly enhance the descriptions by
+emphasising what the writer rightly left vague."
+
+LONDON: CHATTO & WINDUS, III St. Martin's Lane
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's A Versailles Christmas-Tide, by Mary Stuart Boyd
+
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+<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN">
+<html>
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+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content=
+    "text/html; charset=us-ascii">
+    <meta content="pg2html (binary version 0.12a)" name=
+    "generator">
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Versailles Christmas-tide,
+      by Mary Stuart Boyd.
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css">
+    <!--
+    * { font-family:   Times;
+      }
+    P { text-indent:   1em;
+        margin-top:    .75em;
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+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; }
+    HR  { width: 33%; }
+    PRE { font-family: Courier, monospaced;}
+    .toc  { margin-left: 15%; font-size: 10pt; margin-bottom: 0em;}
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+
+
+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's A Versailles Christmas-Tide, by Mary Stuart Boyd
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Versailles Christmas-Tide
+[Date last updated: December 22, 2004]
+
+Author: Mary Stuart Boyd
+
+Release Date: January 23, 2004 [EBook #10813]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A VERSAILLES CHRISTMAS-TIDE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Karen Robinson, David Garcia and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <center>
+      <img src="cover.png" width="500" height="260" alt=
+      "Front Cover">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <h1>
+      A Versailles Christmas-tide
+    </h1>
+    <center>
+      <b>By</b>
+    </center>
+    <center>
+      <b>Mary Stuart Boyd</b><br>
+       With Fifty-three Illustrations by<br>
+      <b>A.S. Boyd</b><br>
+      1901
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vxinset.png" width="150" height="163" alt="">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <hr>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      Contents
+    </h2>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#2HCH01">Chapter I&mdash;The Unexpected Happens</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#2HCH02">Chapter II&mdash;Ogams</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#2HCH03">Chapter III&mdash;The Town</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#2HCH04">Chapter IV&mdash;Our Arbre de No&euml;l</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#2HCH05">Chapter V&mdash;Le Jour de
+      l'Ann&eacute;e</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#2HCH06">Chapter VI&mdash;Ice-bound</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#2HCH07">Chapter VII&mdash;The Haunted
+      Ch&acirc;teau</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#2HCH08">Chapter VIII&mdash;Marie Antoinette</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#2HCH09">Chapter IX&mdash;The Prisoners Released</a>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      Illustrations
+    </h2>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-01">The Summons</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-02">Storm Warning</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-03">Treasure Trove</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-04">The Red Cross in the Window</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-05">Enter M. Le Docteur</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-06">Perpetual Motion</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-07">Ursa Major</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-08">Meal Considerations</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-09">The Two Colonels</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-10">The Young and Brave</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-11">Malcontent</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-12">The Aristocrat</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-13">Papa, Mama et B&eacute;b&eacute;</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-14">Juvenile Progress</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-15">Automoblesse Oblige</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-16">Sable Garb</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-17">A Football Team</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-18">Mistress and Maid</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-19">Sage and Onions</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-20">Marketing</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-21">Private Boxes</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-22">A Foraging Party</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-23">A Thriving Merchant</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-24">Chestnuts in the Avenue</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-25">The Tree Vendor</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-26">The Tree-bearer</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-27">Rosine</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-28">Alms and the Lady</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-29">Adoration</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-30">Thankfulness</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-31">One of the Devout</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-32">De L'eau Chaude</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-33">The Mill</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-34">The Presbytery</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-35">To the Place of Rest</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-36">While the Frost Holds</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-37">The Postman's Wrap</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-38">A Lapful of Warmth</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-39">The Daily Round</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-40">Three Babes and a Bonne</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-41">Snow in the Park</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-42">A Veteran of the Chateau</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-43">Un&mdash;Deux&mdash;Trois</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-44">The Bedchamber of Louis Xiv</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-45">Marie Leczinska</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-46">Madame Adelaide</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-47">Louis Quatorze</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-48">Where the Queen Played</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-49">Marie Antoinette</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-50">The Secret Stair</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-51">Madame Sans T&ecirc;te</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-52">Illumination</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-53">L'Envoi</a>
+    </p><a name="2HCH01"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER I
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS
+    </h3><a name="image-01"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx08.png" width="250" height="452" alt=
+      "The Summons" align="left">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      No project could have been less foreseen than was ours of
+      wintering in France, though it must be confessed that for
+      several months our thoughts had constantly strayed across the
+      Channel. For the Boy was at school at Versailles, banished
+      there by our desire to fulfil a parental duty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The time of separation had dragged tardily past, until one
+      foggy December morning we awoke to the glad consciousness
+      that that very evening the Boy would be with us again. Across
+      the breakfast-table we kept saying to each other, "It seems
+      scarcely possible that the Boy is really coming home
+      to-night," but all the while we hugged the assurance that it
+      was.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Boy is an ordinary snub-nosed, shock-headed urchin of
+      thirteen, with no special claim to distinction save the
+      negative one of being an only child. Yet without his cheerful
+      presence our home seemed empty and dull. Any attempts at
+      merry-making failed to restore its life. Now all was agog for
+      his return. The house was in its most festive trim. Christmas
+      presents were hidden securely away. There was rejoicing
+      downstairs as well as up: the larder shelves were stored with
+      seasonable fare, and every bit of copper and brass sparkled a
+      welcome. Even the kitchen cat sported a ribbon, and had a
+      specially energetic purr ready.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Into the midst of our happy preparations the bad news fell
+      with bomb-like suddenness. The messenger who brought the
+      telegram whistled shrilly and shuffled a breakdown on the
+      doorstep while he waited to hear if there was an answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "He is ill. He can't come. Scarlet fever," one of us said in
+      an odd, flat voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "Scarlet fever. At school. Oh! when can we go to him? When is
+      there a boat?" cried the other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no question of expediency. The Boy lay sick in a
+      foreign land, so we went to him. It was full noon when the
+      news came, and nightfall saw us dashing through the murk of a
+      wild mid-December night towards Dover pier, feeling that only
+      the express speed of the mail train was quick enough for us
+      to breathe in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But even the most apprehensive of journeys may hold its
+      humours. Just at the moment of starting anxious friends
+      assisted a young lady into our carriage. "She was going to
+      Marseilles. Would we kindly see that she got on all right?"
+      We were only going as far as Paris direct. "Well, then, as
+      far as Paris. It would be a great favour." So from Charing
+      Cross to the Gare du Nord, Placidia, as we christened her,
+      became our care.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was a large, handsome girl of about three-and-twenty.
+      What was her reason for journeying unattended to Cairo we
+      know not. Whether she ever reached her destination we are
+      still in doubt, for a more complacently incapable damsel
+      never went a-voyaging. The Saracen maiden who followed her
+      English lover from the Holy Land by crying "London" and
+      "&Agrave; Becket" was scarce so impotent as Placidia; for any
+      information the Saracen maiden had she retained, while
+      Placidia naively admitted that she had already forgotten by
+      which line of steamers her passage through the Mediterranean
+      had been taken.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Placidia had an irrational way of losing her possessions.
+      While yet on her way to the London railway station she had
+      lost her tam-o'-shanter. So perforce, she travelled in a
+      large picture-hat which, although pretty and becoming, was
+      hardly suitable headgear for channel-crossing in mid-winter.
+    </p><a name="image-02"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx10.png" width="400" height="479" alt=
+      "Storm Warning">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      It was a wild night; wet, with a rising north-west gale.
+      Tarpaulined porters swung themselves on to the carriage-steps
+      as we drew up at Dover pier, and warned us not to leave the
+      train, as, owing to the storm, the Calais boat would be an
+      hour late in getting alongside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Ostend packet, lying beside the quay in full sight of the
+      travellers, lurched giddily at her moorings. The fourth
+      occupant of our compartment, a sallow man with yellow
+      whiskers, turned green with apprehension. Not so Placidia.
+      From amongst her chaotic hand-baggage she extracted walnuts
+      and mandarin oranges, and began eating with an appetite that
+      was a direct challenge to the Channel. Bravery or
+      foolhardiness could go no farther.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Providence tempers the wind to the parents who are shorn of
+      their lamb. The tumult of waters left us scatheless, but poor
+      Placidia early paid the penalty of her rashness. She
+      "thought" she was a good sailor&mdash;though she acknowledged
+      that this was her first sea-trip&mdash;and elected to remain
+      on deck. But before the harbour lights had faded behind us a
+      sympathetic mariner supported her limp form&mdash;the
+      feathers of her incongruous hat drooping in unison with their
+      owner&mdash;down the swaying cabin staircase and deposited
+      her on a couch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "Oh! I do wish I hadn't eaten that fruit," she groaned when I
+      offered her smelling-salts. "But then, you know, I was so
+      hungry!"
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the <i>train rapide</i> a little later, Placidia, when
+      arranging her wraps for the night journey, chanced, among the
+      medley of her belongings, upon a missing boat-ticket whose
+      absence at the proper time had threatened complications. She
+      burst into good-humoured laughter at the discovery. "Why,
+      here's the ticket that man made all the fuss about. I really
+      thought he wasn't going to let me land till I found it. Now,
+      I do wonder how it got among my rugs?"
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We seemed to be awake all night, staring with wide, unseeing
+      eyes out into the darkness. Yet the chill before dawn found
+      us blinking sleepily at a blue-bloused porter who, throwing
+      open the carriage door, curtly announced that we were in
+      Paris.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then followed a fruitless search for Placidia's luggage, a
+      hunt which was closed by Placidia recovering her registration
+      ticket (with a fragment of candy adhering to it) from one of
+      the multifarious pockets of her ulster, and finding that the
+      luggage had been registered on to Marseilles. "Will they
+      charge duty on tobacco?" she inquired blandly, as she watched
+      the Customs examination of our things. "I've such a lot of
+      cigars in my boxes."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was an Old-Man-of-the-Sea-like tenacity in Placidia's
+      smiling impuissance. She did not know one syllable of French.
+      A new-born babe could not have revealed itself more utterly
+      incompetent. I verily believe that, despite our haste, we
+      would have ended by escorting Placidia across Paris, and
+      ensconcing her in the Marseilles train, had not Providence
+      intervened in the person of a kindly disposed polyglot
+      traveller. So, leaving Placidia standing the picture of
+      complacent fatuosity in the midst of a group consisting of
+      this new champion and three porters, we sneaked away.
+    </p><a name="image-03"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx12.png" width="250" height="328" align="right"
+      alt="Treasure Trove">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Grey dawn was breaking as we drove towards St. Lazare
+      Station, and the daily life of the city was well begun.
+      Lights were twinkling in the dark interiors of the shops.
+      Through the mysterious atmosphere figures loomed mistily,
+      then vanished into the gloom. But we got no more than a vague
+      impression of our surroundings. Throughout the interminable
+      length of drive across the city, and the subsequent slow
+      train journey, our thoughts were ever in advance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The tardy winter daylight had scarcely come before we were
+      jolting in a <i>fiacre</i> over the stony streets of
+      Versailles. In the gutters, crones were eagerly rummaging
+      among the dust heaps that awaited removal. In France no
+      degradation attaches to open economies. Housewives on their
+      way to fetch Gargantuan loaves or tiny bottles of milk for
+      the matutinal <i>caf&eacute;-au-lait</i> cast searching
+      glances as they passed, to see if among the rubbish something
+      of use to them might not be lurking. And at one alluring
+      mound an old gentleman of absurdly respectable exterior
+      perfunctorily turned over the scraps with the point of his
+      cane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We had heard of a hotel, and the first thing we saw of it we
+      liked. That was a pair of sabots on the mat at the foot of
+      the staircase. Pausing only to remove the dust of travel, we
+      set off to visit our son, walking with timorous haste along
+      the grand old avenue where the school was situated. A little
+      casement window to the left of the wide entrance-door showed
+      a red cross. We looked at it silently, wondering.
+    </p><a name="image-04"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx13.png" width="250" height="348" align="left"
+              alt="The Red Cross in the Window">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      In response to our ring the portal opened mysteriously at
+      touch of the unseen concierge, and we entered. A conference
+      with Monsieur le Directeur, kindly, voluble, tactfully
+      complimentary regarding our halting French, followed. The
+      interview over, we crossed the courtyard our hearts beating
+      quickly. At the top of a little flight of worn stone steps
+      was the door of the school hospital, and under the ivy-twined
+      trellis stood a sweet-faced Franciscan Soeur, waiting to
+      welcome us.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p><a name="image-05"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx14.png" width="400" height="683" alt=
+      "Enter M. Le Docteur">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Passing through a tiny outer room&mdash;an odd combination of
+      dispensary, kitchen, and drawing-room with a red-tiled
+      floor&mdash;we reached the sick-chamber, and saw the Boy. A
+      young compatriot, also a victim of the disease, occupied
+      another bed, but for the first moments we were oblivious of
+      his presence. Raising his fever-flushed face from the
+      pillows, the Boy eagerly stretched out his burning hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "I heard your voices," his hoarse voice murmured contentedly,
+      "and I knew <i>you</i> couldn't be ghosts." Poor child! in
+      the semidarkness of the lonely night-hours phantom voices had
+      haunted him. We of the morning were real.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The good Soeur buzzed a mild frenzy of "Il ne faut pas
+      toucher" about our ears, but, all unheeding, we clasped the
+      hot hands and crooned over him. After the dreary months of
+      separation, love overruled wisdom. Mere prudence was not
+      strong enough to keep us apart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Chief amongst the chaos of thoughts that had assailed us on
+      the reception of the bad news, was the necessity of engaging
+      an English medical man. But at the first sight of the French
+      doctor, as, clad in a long overall of white cotton, he
+      entered the sick-room, our insular prejudice vanished, ousted
+      by complete confidence; a confidence that our future
+      experience of his professional skill and personal kindliness
+      only strengthened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was with sore hearts that, the prescribed <i>cinq
+      minutes</i> ended, we descended the little outside stair.
+      Still, we had seen the Boy; and though we could not nurse
+      him, we were not forbidden to visit him. So we were thankful
+      too.
+    </p><a name="2HCH02"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER II
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      OGAMS
+    </h3><a name="image-06"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx16.png" width="250" height="312" align="left"
+              alt="Perpetual Motion">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Our hotel was distinctively French, and immensely
+      comfortable, in that it had gleaned, and still retained, the
+      creature comforts of a century or two. Thus it combined the
+      luxuries of hot-air radiators and electric light with the
+      enchantment of open wood fires. Viewed externally, the
+      building presented that airy aspect almost universal in
+      Versailles architecture. It was white-tinted, with many
+      windows shuttered without and heavily lace-draped within.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A wide entrance led to the inner courtyard, where orange
+      trees in green tubs, and trelliswork with shrivelled stems
+      and leaves still adhering, suggested that it would be a
+      pleasant summer lounge. Our hotel boasted a <i>grand
+      salon</i>, which opened from the courtyard. It was an
+      elaborately ornate room; but on a chilly December day even a
+      plethora of embellishment cannot be trusted to raise by a
+      single degree the temperature of the apartment it adorns, and
+      the soul turns from a cold hearth, however radiant its
+      garnish of artificial blossoms. A private parlour was
+      scarcely necessary, for, with most French bedrooms, ours
+      shared the composite nature of the accommodation known in a
+      certain class of advertisement as "bed-sitting-room." So it
+      was that during these winter days we made ourselves at home
+      in our chamber.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The shape of the room was a geometrical problem. The three
+      windows each revealed different views, and the remainder of
+      the walls curved amazingly. At first sight the furniture
+      consisted mainly of draperies and looking-glass; for the
+      room, though of ordinary dimensions, owned three large
+      mirrors and nine pairs of curtains. A stately bed, endowed
+      with a huge square down pillow, which served as quilt, stood
+      in a corner. Two armchairs in brocaded velvet and a centre
+      table were additions to the customary articles. A handsome
+      timepiece and a quartette of begilt candelabra decked the
+      white marble mantelpiece, and were duplicated in the large
+      pier glass. The floor was of well-polished wood, a strip of
+      bright-hued carpet before the bed, a second before the
+      washstand, its only coverings. Need I say that the provision
+      for ablutions was one basin and a liliputian ewer, and that
+      there was not a fixed bath in the establishment?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a resting-place full of incongruities; but apart from,
+      or perhaps because of, its oddities it had a cosy
+      attractiveness. From the moment of our entrance we felt at
+      home. I think the logs that purred and crackled on the hearth
+      had much to do with its air of welcome. There is a sense of
+      companionship about a wood fire that more enduring coal
+      lacks. Like a delicate child, the very care it demands
+      nurtures your affection. There was something delightfully
+      foreign and picturesque to our town ideas in the heap of logs
+      that Karl carried up in a great <i>panier</i> and piled at
+      the side of the hearth. Even the little faggots of kindling
+      wood, willow-knotted and with the dry copper-tinted leaves
+      still clinging to the twigs, had a rustic charm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These were pleasant moments when, ascending from the chill
+      outer air, we found our chamber aglow with ruddy firelight
+      that glinted in the mirrors and sparkled on the shining
+      surface of the polished floor; when we drew our chairs up to
+      the hearth, and, scorning the electric light, revelled in the
+      beauty of the leaping and darting flames.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was only in the <i>salle-&agrave;-manger</i> that we saw
+      the other occupants of the hotel; and when we learned that
+      several of them had lived <i>en pension</i> under the roof of
+      the assiduous proprietor for periods varying from five to
+      seven years, we felt ephemeral, mere creatures of a moment,
+      and wholly unworthy of regard.
+    </p><a name="image-07"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx18.png" width="165" height="438" align="right"
+      alt="Ursa Major">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      At eight o'clock Karl brought the <i>petit
+      d&eacute;je&ucirc;ner</i> of coffee and rolls to our room. At
+      eleven, our morning visit to the school hospital over, we
+      breakfasted in the <i>salle-&agrave;-manger</i>, a large
+      bright room, one or other of whose many south windows had
+      almost daily, even in the depth of winter, to be shaded
+      against the rays of the sun. Three chandeliers of glittering
+      crystal starred with electric lights depended from the
+      ceiling. Half a dozen small tables stood down each side; four
+      larger ones occupied the centre of the floor, and were
+      reserved for transient custom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The first thing that struck us as peculiar was that every
+      table save ours was laid for a single person, with a half
+      bottle of wine, red or white, placed ready, in accordance
+      with the known preference of the expected guest. We soon
+      gathered that several of the regular customers lodged outside
+      and, according to the French fashion, visited the hotel for
+      meals only. After the early days of keen anxiety regarding
+      our invalid had passed, we began to study our fellow guests
+      individually and to note their idiosyncrasies. Sitting at our
+      allotted table during the progress of the leisurely meals, we
+      used to watch as one <i>habitu&eacute;</i> after another
+      entered, and, hanging coat and hat upon certain pegs, sat
+      silently down in his accustomed place, with an unvarying air
+      of calm deliberation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Iorson, the swift-footed <i>gar&ccedil;on</i>, would
+      skim over the polished boards to the newcomer, and, tendering
+      the menu, would wait, pencil in hand, until the guest, after
+      careful contemplation, selected his five <i>plats</i> from
+      its comprehensive list.
+    </p><a name="image-08"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx19.png" width="250" height="289" align="left"
+              alt="Meal Considerations">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      The most picturesque man of the company had white moustaches
+      of surprising length. On cold days he appeared enveloped in a
+      fur coat, a garment of shaggy brown which, in conjunction
+      with his hirsute countenance, made his aspect suggest the
+      hero in pantomime renderings of "Beauty and the Beast." But
+      in our hotel there was no Beauty, unless indeed it were
+      Yvette, and Yvette could hardly be termed beautiful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Yvette also lived outside. She did not come to
+      <i>d&eacute;je&ucirc;ner</i>, but every night precisely at a
+      quarter-past seven the farther door would open, and Yvette,
+      her face expressing disgust with the world and all the things
+      thereof, would enter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Yvette was blonde, with neat little features, a pale
+      complexion, and tiny hands that were always ringless. She
+      rang the changes on half a dozen handsome cloaks of different
+      degrees of warmth. To an intelligent observer their wear
+      might have served as a thermometer. Yvette was
+      <i>blas&eacute;e</i>, and her millinery was in sympathy with
+      her feelings. Her hats had all a fringe of disconsolate
+      feathers, whose melancholy plumage emphasised the downward
+      curve of her mouth. To see Yvette enter from the darkness
+      and, seating herself at her solitary table, droop over her
+      plate as though there were nothing in Versailles worth
+      sitting upright for, was to view <i>ennui</i> personified.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Yvette invariably drank white wine, and the food rarely
+      pleased her. She would cast a contemptuous look over the menu
+      offered by the deferential Henri, then turn wearily away,
+      esteeming that no item on its length merited even her most
+      perfunctory consideration. But after one or two despondent
+      glances, Yvette ever made the best of a bad bargain, and
+      ordered quite a comprehensive little dinner, which she ate
+      with the same air of utter disdain. She always concluded by
+      eating an orange dipped in sugar. Even had a special table
+      not been reserved for her, one could have told where Yvette
+      had dined by the bowl of powdered sugar, just as one could
+      have located the man with the fierce moustaches and the fur
+      coat by the presence of his pepper-mill, or the place of
+      "Madame" from her prodigal habit of rending a quarter-yard of
+      the crusty French bread in twain and consuming only the soft
+      inside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From the ignorance of our cursory acquaintance we had judged
+      the French a sociable nation. Our stay at Versailles speedily
+      convinced us of the fallacy of that belief. Nothing could
+      have impressed us so forcibly as did the frigid silence that
+      characterised the company. Many of them had fed there daily
+      for years, yet within the walls of the sunny dining-room none
+      exchanged even a salutation. This unexpected taciturnity in a
+      people whom we had been taught to regard as lively and
+      voluble made us almost ashamed of our own garrulity, and
+      when, in the presence of the silent company, we were tempted
+      to exchange remarks, we found ourselves doing it in hushed
+      voices as though we were in church.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A clearer knowledge, however, showed us that though some
+      unspoken convention rendered the hotel guests oblivious of
+      each other's presence while indoors, beyond the hotel walls
+      they might hold communion. Two retired military men, both
+      wearing the red ribbon of the Legion of Honour, as indeed did
+      most of our <i>habitu&eacute;s</i>, sat at adjacent tables.
+      One, tall and thin, was a Colonel; the other, little and
+      neat, a Colonel also. To the casual gaze they appeared
+      complete strangers, and we had consumed many meals in their
+      society before observing that whenever the tall Colonel had
+      sucked the last cerise from his glass of <i>eau-de-vie</i>,
+      and begun to fold his napkin&mdash;a formidable task, for the
+      serviettes fully deserved the designation later bestowed on
+      them by the Boy, of "young table-cloths"&mdash;the little
+      Colonel made haste to fold his also. Both rose from their
+      chairs at the same instant, and the twain, having received
+      their hats from the attentive Iorson, vanished, still mute,
+      into the darkness together.
+    </p><a name="image-09"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx21.png" width="400" height="416" alt=
+      "The Two Colonels">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Once, to our consternation, the little Colonel replaced his
+      napkin in its ring without waiting for the signal from the
+      tall Colonel. But our apprehension that they, in their
+      dealings in that mysterious outer world which twice daily
+      they sought together, might have fallen into a difference of
+      opinion was dispelled by the little Colonel, who had risen,
+      stepping to his friend and holding out his hand. This the
+      tall Colonel without withdrawing his eyes from <i>Le Journal
+      des D&eacute;bats</i> which he was reading, silently pressed.
+      Then, still without a word spoken or a look exchanged, the
+      little Colonel passed out alone.
+    </p><a name="image-10"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx22.png" width="250" height="290" align="right"
+      alt="The Young and Brave">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      The average age of the Ogams was seventy. True, there was
+      Dunois the Young and Brave, who could not have been more than
+      forty-five. What his name really was we knew not, but
+      something in his comparatively juvenile appearance among the
+      chevaliers suggested the appellation which for lack of a
+      better we retained. Dunois' youth might only be comparative,
+      but his bravery was indubitable; for who among the Ogams but
+      he was daring enough to tackle the
+      <i>p&acirc;t&eacute;-de-foie-gras</i>, or the <i>abattis</i>,
+      a stew composed of the gizzards and livers of fowls? And who
+      but Dunois would have been so reckless as to follow baked
+      mussels and <i>cr&eacute;pinettes</i> with <i>rognons
+      frits</i>?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dunois, too, revealed intrepid leanings toward strange
+      liquors. Sometimes&mdash;it was usually at
+      <i>d&eacute;je&ucirc;ner</i> when he had dined out on the previous
+      evening&mdash;he would demand the wine-list of Iorson, and
+      rejecting the <i>vin blanc</i> or <i>vin rouge</i> which,
+      being <i>compris</i>, contented the others, would order
+      himself something of a choice brand. One of his favourite
+      papers was <i>Le Rire</i>, and Henri, Iorson's youthful
+      assistant, regarded him with admiration.
+    </p><a name="image-11"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx23.png" width="250" height="241" align="left"
+              alt="Malcontent">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      A less attractive presence in the dining-room was Madame.
+      Madame, who was an elderly dame of elephantine girth, had
+      resided in the hotel for half a dozen years, during which
+      period her sole exercise had been taken in slowly descending
+      from her chamber in the upper regions for her meals, and
+      then, leisurely assimilation completed, in yet more slowly
+      ascending. Madame's allotted seat was placed in close
+      proximity to the hot-air register; and though Madame was
+      usually one of the first to enter the dining-room, she was
+      generally the last to leave. Madame's appetite was as
+      animated as her body was lethargic. She always drank her
+      half-bottle of red wine to the dregs, and she invariably
+      concluded with a greengage in brandy. So it was small marvel
+      that, when at last she left her chair to "tortoise" upstairs,
+      her complexion should be two shades darker than when she
+      descended.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Five dishes, irrespective of <i>hors d'oeuvres</i> at
+      luncheon, and <i>potage</i> at dinner, were allowed each
+      guest, and Madame's selection was an affair of time. Our
+      hotel was justly noted for its <i>cuisine</i>, yet on
+      infrequent occasions the food supplied to Madame was not to
+      her mind. At these times the whole establishment suffered
+      until the irascible old lady's taste was suited. One night at
+      dinner Iorson had the misfortune to serve Madame with some
+      turkey that failed to meet with her approval. With the air of
+      an insulted empress, Madame ordered its removal. The
+      conciliatory Iorson obediently carried off the dish and
+      speedily returned, bearing what professed to be another
+      portion. But from the glimpse we got as it passed our table
+      we had a shrewd suspicion that Iorson the wily had merely
+      turned over the piece of turkey and re-served it with a
+      little more gravy and an additional dressing of
+      <i>cressons</i>. Madame, it transpired, shared our
+      suspicions, for this portion also she declined, with renewed
+      indignation. Then followed a long period of waiting, wherein
+      Madame, fidgeting restlessly on her seat, kept fierce eyes
+      fixed on the door through which the viands entered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Just as her impatience threatened to vent itself in action,
+      Iorson appeared bearing a third helping of turkey. Placing it
+      before the irate lady, he fled as though determined to debar
+      a third repudiation. For a moment an air of triumph pervaded
+      Madame's features. Then she began to gesticulate violently,
+      with the evident intention of again attracting Iorson's
+      notice. But the forbearance even of the diplomatic Iorson was
+      at an end. Re-doubling his attentions to the diners at the
+      farther side of the room, he remained resolutely unconscious
+      of Madame's signals, which were rapidly becoming frantic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The less sophisticated Henri, however, feeling a boyish
+      interest in the little comedy, could not resist a curious
+      glance in Madame's direction. That was sufficient. Waving
+      imperiously, Madame compelled his approach, and, moving
+      reluctantly, fearful of the issue, Henri advanced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "Couteau!" hissed Madame. Henri flew to fetch the desired
+      implement, and, realising that Madame had at last been
+      satisfied, we again breathed freely.
+    </p><a name="image-12"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx25.png" width="250" height="381" align="left"
+              alt="The Aristocrat">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      A more attractive personage was a typical old aristocrat,
+      officer of the Legion of Honour, who used to enter, walk with
+      great dignity to his table, eat sparingly of one or two
+      dishes, drink a glass of his <i>vin ordinaire</i> and retire.
+      Sometimes he was accompanied by a tiny spaniel, which
+      occupied a chair beside him; and frequently a middle-aged
+      son, whose bourgeois appearance was in amazing contrast to
+      that of his refined old father, attended him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There were others, less interesting perhaps, but equally
+      self-absorbed. One afternoon, entering the cable car that
+      runs&mdash;for fun, apparently, as it rarely boasted a
+      passenger&mdash;to and from the Trianon, we recognised in its
+      sole occupant an Ogam who during the weeks of our stay had
+      eaten, in evident oblivion of his human surroundings, at the
+      table next to ours. Forgetting that we were without the walls
+      of silence, we expected no greeting; but to our amazement he
+      rose, and, placing himself opposite us, conversed affably and
+      in most excellent English for the rest of the journey. To
+      speak with him was to discover a courteous and travelled
+      gentleman. Yet during our stay in Versailles we never knew
+      him exchange even a bow with any of his fellow Ogams, who
+      were men of like qualifications, though, as he told us, he
+      had taken his meals in the hotel for over five years.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Early in the year our peace was rudely broken by the advent
+      of a commercial man&mdash;a short, grey-haired being of an
+      activity so foreign to our usage that a feeling of unrest was
+      imparted to the <i>salle-&agrave;-manger</i> throughout his
+      stay. His movements were distractingly erratic. In his
+      opinion, meals were things to be treated casually, to be
+      consumed haphazard at any hour that chanced to suit. He did
+      not enter the dining-room at the exact moment each day as did
+      the Ogams. He would rush in, throw his hat on a peg, devour
+      some food with unseemly haste, and depart in less time than
+      it took the others to reach the <i>l&eacute;gumes</i>.
+    </p><a name="image-13"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx26.png" width="400" height="465" alt=
+      "Papa, Mama et B&eacute;b&eacute;">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      He was hospitable too, and had a disconcerting way of
+      inviting guests to luncheon or dinner, and then forgetting
+      that he had done so. One morning a stranger entered, and
+      after a brief conference with Iorson, was conducted to the
+      commercial man's table to await his arrival. The regular
+      customers took their wonted places, and began in their
+      leisurely fashion to breakfast, and still the visitor sat
+      alone, starting up expectantly every time a door opened, then
+      despondently resuming his seat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At last Iorson, taking compassion, urged the neglected guest
+      to while away his period of waiting by trifling with the
+      <i>hors-d'oeuvres</i>. He was proceeding to allay the pangs
+      of hunger with selections from the tray of anchovies,
+      sardines, pickled beet, and sliced sausage, when his host
+      entered, voluble and irrepressible as ever. The dignified
+      Ogams shuddered inwardly as his strident voice awoke the
+      echoes of the room, and their already stiff limbs became
+      rigid with disapproval.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In winter, transient visitors but rarely occupied one or
+      other of the square centre tables, though not infrequently a
+      proud father and mother who had come to visit a soldier son
+      at the barracks, brought him to the hotel for a meal, and for
+      a space the radiance of blue and scarlet and the glint of
+      steel cast a military glamour over the staid company.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      An amusing little circumstance to us onlookers was that
+      although the supply of cooked food seemed equal to any
+      demand, the arrival of even a trio of unexpected guests to
+      dinner invariably caused a dearth of bread. For on their
+      advent Iorson would dash out bareheaded into the night, to
+      reappear in an incredibly short time carrying a loaf nearly
+      as tall as himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One morning a stalwart young Briton brought to breakfast a
+      pretty English cousin, on leave of absence from her
+      boarding-school. His knowledge of French was limited. When
+      anything was wanted he shouted "Gar&ccedil;on!" in a lordly
+      voice, but it was the pretty cousin who gave the order.
+      <i>D&eacute;je&ucirc;ner</i> over, they departed in the
+      direction of the Ch&acirc;teau. And at sunset as we chanced
+      to stroll along the Boulevard de la Reine, we saw the pretty
+      cousin, all the gaiety fled from her face, bidding her escort
+      farewell at the gate of a Pension pour Demoiselles. The ball
+      was over. Poor little Cinderella was perforce returning to
+      the dust and ashes of learning.
+    </p><a name="2HCH03"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p><a name="image-14"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx28.png" width="500" height="343" alt=
+      "Juvenile Progress">
+    </center>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER III
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      THE TOWN
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      The English-speaking traveller finds Versailles vastly more
+      foreign than the Antipodes. He may voyage for many weeks, and
+      at each distant stopping-place find his own tongue spoken
+      around him, and his conventions governing society. But let
+      him leave London one night, cross the Channel at its
+      narrowest&mdash;and most turbulent&mdash;and sunrise will
+      find him an alien in a land whose denizens differ from him in
+      language, temperament, dress, food, manners, and customs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Of a former visit to Versailles we had retained little more
+      than the usual tourist's recollection of a hurried run
+      through a palace of fatiguing magnificence, a confusing peep
+      at the Trianons, a glance around the gorgeous state
+      equipages, an unsatisfactory meal at one of the open-air
+      <i>caf&eacute;s</i>, and a scamper back to Paris. But our
+      winter residence in the quaint old town revealed to us the
+      existence of a life that is all its own&mdash;a life widely
+      variant, in its calm repose, from the bustle and gaiety of
+      the capital, but one that is replete with charm, and
+      abounding in picturesque-interest.
+    </p><a name="image-15"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx29.png" width="400" height="480" alt=
+      "Automoblesse Oblige">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Versailles is not ancient; it is old, completely old. Since
+      the fall of the Second Empire it has stood still. Most of the
+      clocks have run down, as though they realised the futility of
+      trying to keep pace with the rest of the world. The future
+      merges into the present, the present fades into the past, and
+      still the clocks of Versailles point to the same long
+      eventide.
+    </p><a name="image-16"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx30.png" width="250" height="392" align="right"
+      alt="Sable Garb">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      The proximity of Paris is evinced only by the vividly tinted
+      automobiles that make Versailles their goal. Even they rarely
+      tarry in the old town, but, turning at the Ch&acirc;teau
+      gates, lose no time in retracing their impetuous flight
+      towards a city whose usages accord better with their creed of
+      feverish hurry-scurry than do the conventions of reposeful
+      Versailles. And these fiery chariots of modernity, with their
+      ghoulish, fur-garbed, and hideously spectacled occupants,
+      once their raucous, cigale-like birr-r-r has died away in the
+      distance, leave infinitely less impression on the placid life
+      of Versailles than do their wheels on the roads they
+      traverse. Under the grand trees of the wide avenues the
+      townsfolk move quietly about, busying themselves with their
+      own affairs and practising their little economies as they
+      have been doing any time during the last century.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Perhaps it was the emphatic and demonstrative nature of the
+      mourning worn that gave us the idea that the better-class
+      female population of Versailles consisted chiefly of widows.
+      When walking abroad we seemed incessantly to encounter
+      widows: widows young and old, from the aged to the absurdly
+      immature. It was only after a period of bewilderment that it
+      dawned upon us that the sepulchral garb and heavy crape veils
+      reaching from head to heel were not necessarily the emblems
+      of widowhood, but might signify some state of minor
+      bereavement. In Britain a display of black such as is an
+      everyday sight at Versailles is undreamt of, and one saw more
+      crape veils in a day in Versailles than in London in a week.
+      Little girls, though their legs might be uncovered, had their
+      chubby features shrouded in disfiguring gauze and to our
+      unaccustomed foreign eyes a genuine widow represented nothing
+      more shapely than a more or less stubby pillar festooned with
+      crape.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But for an inborn conviction that a frugal race like the
+      French would not invest in a plethora of mourning garb only
+      to cast it aside after a few months' wear, and that therefore
+      the period of wearing the willow must be greatly protracted,
+      we would have been haunted by the idea that the adult male
+      mortality of Versailles was enormous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "Do they wear such deep mourning for all relatives?" I asked
+      our hotel proprietor, who had just told us that during the
+      first month of mourning the disguising veils were worn over
+      the faces.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Monsieur shook his sleek head gravely, "But no, Madame, not
+      for all. For a husband, yes; for a father or mother, yes; for
+      a sister or brother, an uncle or aunt, yes; but for a cousin,
+      <i>no</i>."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He pronounced the <i>no</i> so emphatically as almost to
+      convince us of his belief that in refusing to mourn in the
+      most lugubrious degree for cousins the Versaillese acted with
+      praiseworthy self-denial.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There seemed to be no medium between sackcloth and
+      gala-dress. We seldom noted the customary degrees of
+      half-mourning. Plain colours were evidently unpopular and
+      fancy tartans of the most flamboyant hues predominated
+      amongst those who, during a spell of, say, three years had
+      been fortunate enough not to lose a parent, sister, brother,
+      uncle, or aunt. A perfectly natural reaction appeared to urge
+      the <i>ci-devant</i> mourners to robe themselves in lively
+      checks and tartans. It was as though they said&mdash;"Here at
+      last is our opportunity for gratifying our natural taste in
+      colours. It will probably be of but short duration. Therefore
+      let us select a combination of all the most brilliant tints
+      and wear them, for who knows how soon that gruesome pall of
+      woe may again enshroud us."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Probably it was the vicinity of our hotel to the Church of
+      Notre Dame that, until we discovered its brighter side, led
+      us to esteem Versailles a veritable city of the dead, for on
+      our bi-daily walks to visit the invalids we were almost
+      certain to encounter a funeral procession either approaching
+      or leaving Notre Dame. And on but rare occasions was the
+      great central door undraped with the sepulchral insignia
+      which proclaimed that a Mass for the dead was in prospect or
+      in progress. Sometimes the sable valance and porti&egrave;res
+      were heavily trimmed and fringed with silver; at others there
+      was only the scantiest display of time-worn black cloth.
+    </p><a name="image-17"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx32.png" width="500" height="341" alt=
+      "A Football Team">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      The humblest funeral was affecting and impressive. As the sad
+      little procession moved along the streets&mdash;the wayfarers
+      reverently uncovering and soldiers saluting as it
+      passed&mdash;the dirge-like chant of the <i>Miserere</i>
+      never failed to fill my eyes with unbidden tears of sympathy
+      for the mourners, who, with bowed heads, walked behind the
+      wreath-laden hearse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Despite the abundant emblems of woe, Versailles can never
+      appear other than bright and attractive. Even in mid-winter
+      the skies were clear, and on the shortest days the sun seldom
+      forgot to cast a warm glow over the gay, white-painted
+      houses. And though the women's dress tends towards
+      depression, the brilliant military uniforms make amends.
+      There are 12,000 soldiers stationed in Versailles; and where
+      a fifth of the population is gorgeous in scarlet and blue and
+      gold, no town can be accused of lacking colour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Next to the redundant manifestations of grief, the thing that
+      most impressed us was the rigid economy practised in even the
+      smallest details of expenditure. Among the lower classes
+      there is none of that aping of fashion so prevalent in
+      prodigal England; the different social grades have each a
+      distinctive dress and are content to wear it. Among the men,
+      blouses of stout blue cotton and sabots are common. Sometimes
+      velveteen trousers, whose original tint years of wear have
+      toned to some exquisite shade of heliotrope, and a russet
+      coat worn with a fur cap and red neckerchief, compose an
+      effect that for harmonious colouring would be hard to beat.
+      The female of his species, as is the case in all natural
+      animals, is content to be less adorned. Her skirt is black,
+      her apron blue. While she is young, her neatly dressed hair,
+      even in the coldest weather, is guiltless of covering. As her
+      years increase she takes her choice of three head-dresses,
+      and to shelter her grey locks selects either a black knitted
+      hood, a checked cotton handkerchief, or a white cap of
+      ridiculously unbecoming design.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No French workaday father need fear that his earnings will be
+      squandered on such perishable adornments as feathers,
+      artificial flowers, or ribbons. The purchases of his spouse
+      are certain to be governed by extreme frugality. She selects
+      the family raiment with a view to durability. Flimsy finery
+      that the sun would fade, shoddy materials that a shower of
+      rain would ruin, offer no temptations to her. When she
+      expends a few <i>sous</i> on the cutting of her boy's hair,
+      she has it cropped until his cranium resembles the soft,
+      furry skin of a mole, thus rendering further outlay in this
+      respect unlikely for months. And when she buys a flannel
+      shirt, a six-inch strip of the stuff, for future mending, is
+      always included in the price.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But with all this economy there is an air of comfort, a
+      complete absence of squalor. In cold weather the school-girls
+      wear snug hoods, or little fur turbans; and boys have the
+      picturesque and almost indestructible b&eacute;rets of cloth
+      or corduroy. Cloth boots that will conveniently slip inside
+      sabots for outdoor use are greatly in vogue, and the
+      comfortable Capuchin cloaks&mdash;whose peaked hood can be
+      drawn over the head, thus obviating the use of
+      umbrellas&mdash;are favoured by both sexes and all ages.
+    </p><a name="image-18"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx34.png" width="250" height="343" align="right"
+      alt="Mistress and Maid">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      As may be imagined, little is spent on luxuries. Vendors of
+      frivolities know better than to waste time tempting those
+      provident people. On one occasion only did I see money parted
+      with lightly, and in that case the bargain appeared
+      astounding. One Sunday morning an enterprising huckster of
+      gimcrack jewellery, venturing out from Paris, had set down
+      his strong box on the verge of the market square, and,
+      displaying to the admiring eyes of the country folks, ladies'
+      and gentlemen's watches with chains complete, in the most
+      dazzling of aureate metal, sold them at six sous apiece as
+      quickly as he could hand them out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Living is comparatively cheap in Versailles; though, as in
+      all places where the cost of existence is low, it must be
+      hard to earn a livelihood there. By far the larger proportion
+      of the community reside in flats, which can be rented at sums
+      that rise in accordance with the accommodation but are in all
+      cases moderate. Housekeeping in a flat, should the owner so
+      will it, is ever conducive to economy, and life in a French
+      provincial town is simple and unconventional.
+    </p><a name="image-19"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx35.png" width="250" height="278" align="left"
+              alt="Sage and Onions">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Bread, wine, and vegetables, the staple foods of the nation,
+      are good and inexpensive. For 40 centimes one may purchase a
+      bottle of <i>vin de gard</i>, a thin tipple, doubtless; but
+      what kind of claret could one buy for fourpence a quart at
+      home? <i>Graves</i> I have seen priced at 50 centimes,
+      <i>Barsac</i> at 60, and <i>eau de vie</i> is plentiful at 1
+      franc 20!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fish are scarce, and beef is supposed to be dear; but when
+      butter, eggs, and cheese bulk so largely in the diet, the
+      half chicken, the scrap of tripe, the slice of garlic
+      sausage, the tiny cut of beef for the <i>ragout</i>, cannot
+      be heavy items. Everything eatable is utilised, and many
+      weird edibles are sold; for the French can contrive tasty
+      dishes out of what in Britain would be thrown aside as offal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On three mornings a week&mdash;Sunday, Tuesday, and
+      Friday&mdash;the presence of the open-air market rouses
+      Versailles from her dormouse-like slumber and galvanises her
+      into a state of activity that lasts for several hours. Long
+      before dawn, the roads leading townwards are busy with all
+      manner of vehicles, from the great waggon drawn by four white
+      horses driven tandem, and laden with a moving stack of hay,
+      to the ramshackle donkey-cart conveying half a score of
+      cabbages, a heap of dandelions grubbed from the meadows, and
+      the owner.
+    </p><a name="image-20"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx36.png" width="400" height="440" alt="Marketing">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      By daybreak the market square under the leafless trees
+      presents a lively scene. There are stalls sacred to poultry,
+      to butter, eggs, and cheese; but the vegetable kingdom
+      predominates. Flanked by bulwarks of greens and bundles of
+      leeks of incredible whiteness and thickness of stem, sit the
+      saleswomen, their heads swathed in gay cotton kerchiefs, and
+      the ground before them temptingly spread with little heaps of
+      corn salad, of chicory, and of yellow endive placed in
+      adorable contrast to the scarlet carrots, blood-red beetroot,
+      pinky-fawn onions, and glorious orange-hued pumpkins; while
+      ready to hand are measures of white or mottled haricot beans,
+      of miniature Brussels sprouts, and of pink or yellow
+      potatoes, an esculent that in France occupies a very
+      unimportant place compared with that it holds amongst the
+      lower classes in Britain.
+    </p><a name="image-21"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx37.png" width="400" height="457" alt=
+      "Private Boxes">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      In Versailles Madame does her own marketing, her
+      maid&mdash;in sabots and neat but usually hideous
+      cap&mdash;accompanying her, basket laden. From stall to stall
+      Madame passes, buying a roll of creamy butter wrapped in
+      fresh leaves here, a fowl there, some eggs from the wrinkled
+      old dame who looks so swart and witch-like in contrast to her
+      stock of milk-white eggs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame makes her purchases judiciously&mdash;time is not a
+      valuable commodity in Versailles&mdash;and finishes, when the
+      huge black basket is getting heavy even for the strong arms
+      of the squat little maid, by buying a mess of cooked spinach
+      from the pretty girl whose red hood makes a happy spot of
+      colour among the surrounding greenery, and a measure of
+      onions from the profound-looking sage who garners a winter
+      livelihood from the summer produce of his fields.
+    </p><a name="image-22"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx38.png" width="400" height="280" alt=
+      "A Foraging Party">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Relations with uncooked food are, in Versailles,
+      distinguished by an unwonted intimacy. No one, however
+      dignified his station or appearance, is ashamed of purchasing
+      the materials for his dinner in the open market, or of
+      carrying them home exposed to the view of the world through
+      the transpicuous meshes of a string bag. The portly gentleman
+      with the fur coat and waxed moustaches, who looks a general
+      at least, and is probably a tram-car conductor, bears his
+      bunch of turnips with an air that dignifies the office, just
+      as the young sub-lieutenant in the light blue cloak and red
+      cap and trousers carries his mother's apples and lettuces
+      without a thought of shame. And it is easy to guess the
+      nature of the <i>d&eacute;je&ucirc;ner</i> of this <i>simple
+      soldat</i> from the long loaf, the bottle of <i>vin
+      ordinaire</i>, and the onions that form the contents of his
+      net. In the street it was a common occurrence to encounter
+      some non-commissioned officer who, entrusted with the
+      catering for his mess, did his marketing accompanied by two
+      underlings, who bore between them the great open basket
+      destined to hold his purchases.
+    </p><a name="image-23"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx39.png" width="250" height="327" align="left"
+              alt="A Thriving Merchant">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      A picturesque appearance among the hucksters of the market
+      square is the <i>bo&icirc;te de carton</i> seller.
+      Blue-bloused, with his stock of lavender or brown bandboxes
+      strapped in a cardboard Tower of Pisa on his back, he parades
+      along, his wares finding ready sale; for his visits are
+      infrequent, and if one does not purchase at the moment, as
+      does Madame, the opportunity is gone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The spirit of camaraderie is strong amongst the good folks of
+      the market. One morning the Artist had paused a moment to
+      make a rough sketch of a plump, affable man who, shadowed by
+      the green cotton awning of his stall, was selling segments of
+      round flat cheeses of goat's milk; vile-smelling compounds
+      that, judged from their outer coating of withered leaves,
+      straw, and dirt, would appear to have been made in a stable
+      and dried on a rubbish heap. The subject of the jotting, busy
+      with his customers, was all unconscious; but an old crone who
+      sat, her feet resting on a tiny charcoal stove, amidst a
+      circle of decadent greens, detecting the Artist's action,
+      became excited, and after eyeing him uneasily for a moment,
+      confided her suspicions as to his ulterior motive to a
+      round-faced young countryman who retailed flowers close by.
+      He, recognising us as customers&mdash;even then we were laden
+      with his violets and mimosa&mdash;merely smiled at her
+      concern. But his apathy only served to heighten Madame's
+      agitation. She was unwilling to leave her snug seat yet felt
+      that her imperative duty lay in acquainting Monsieur du
+      Fromage with the inexplicable behaviour of the inquisitive
+      foreigner. But the nefarious deed was already accomplished,
+      and as we moved away our last glimpse was of the little stove
+      standing deserted, while Madame hastened across the street in
+      her clattering sabots to warn her friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The bustle of the market is soon ended. By ten o'clock the
+      piles of vegetables are sensibly diminished. By half-past ten
+      the white-capped maid-servants have carried the heavy baskets
+      home, and are busy preparing lunch. At eleven o'clock the
+      sharp boy whose stock-in-trade consisted of three trays of
+      snails stuffed <i>&agrave; la</i> Bourgogne has sold all the
+      large ones at 45 centimes a dozen, all the small at 25, and
+      quite two-thirds of the medium-sized at 35 centimes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The clock points to eleven. The sun is high now. The vendors
+      awaken to the consciousness of hunger, and Madame of the
+      <i>pommes frites</i> stall, whose assistant dexterously cuts
+      the peeled tubers into strips, is fully occupied in draining
+      the crisp golden shreds from the boiling fat and handing them
+      over, well sprinkled with salt and pepper, to avid customers,
+      who devour them smoking hot, direct from their paper
+      cornucopias.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Long before the first gloom of the early mid-winter dusk, all
+      has been cleared away. The rickety stalls have been
+      demolished; the unsold remainder of the goods disposed of;
+      the worthy country folks, their pockets heavy with
+      <i>sous</i>, are well on their journey homewards, and only a
+      litter of straw, of cabbage leaves and leek tops remains as
+      evidence of the lively market of the morning.
+    </p><a name="2HCH04"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p><a name="image-24"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx41.png" width="500" height="330" alt=
+      "Chestnuts in the Avenue">
+    </center>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IV
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      OUR ARBRE DE NO&Euml;L
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      We bought it on the Sunday morning from old Grand'mere Gomard
+      in the Avenue de St. Cloud.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was not a noble specimen of a Christmas-tree. Looked at
+      with cold, unimaginative eyes, it might have been considered
+      lopsided; undersized it undoubtedly was. Yet a pathetic
+      familiarity in the desolate aspect of the little tree aroused
+      our sympathy as no rare horticultural trophy ever could.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Some Christmas fairy must have whispered to Grand'mere to
+      grub up the tiny tree and to include it in the stock she was
+      taking into Versailles on the market morning. For there it
+      was, its roots stuck securely into a big pot, looking like
+      some forlorn forest bantling among the garden plants.
+    </p><a name="image-25"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx42.png" width="400" height="569" alt=
+      "The Tree Vendor">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Grand'mere Gomard had established herself in a cosy nook at
+      the foot of one of the great leafless trees of the Avenue.
+      Straw hurdles were cunningly arranged to form three sides of
+      a square, in whose midst she was seated on a rush-bottomed
+      chair, like a queen on a humble throne. Her head was bound by
+      a gaily striped kerchief, and her feet rested snugly on a
+      charcoal stove. Her merchandise, which consisted of half a
+      dozen pots of pink and white primulas, a few spotted or
+      crimson cyclamen, sundry lettuce and cauliflower plants, and
+      some roots of pansies and daisies, was grouped around her.
+    </p><a name="image-26"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx43.png" width="250" height="455" align="left"
+              alt="The Tree-bearer">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      The primulas and cyclamen, though their pots were shrouded in
+      pinafores of white paper skilfully calculated to conceal any
+      undue lankiness of stem, left us unmoved. But the sight of
+      the starveling little fir tree reminded us that in the school
+      hospital lay two sick boys whose roseate dreams of London and
+      holidays had suddenly changed to the knowledge that weeks of
+      isolation and imprisonment behind the window-blind with the
+      red cross lay before them. If we could not give them the
+      longed-for home Christmas, we could at least give them a
+      Christmas-tree.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sight of foreign customers for Grand'mere Gomard speedily
+      collected a small group of interested spectators. A knot of
+      children relinquished their tantalising occupation of hanging
+      round the pan of charcoal over whose glow chestnuts were
+      cracking appetisingly, and the stall of the lady who with
+      amazing celerity fried pancakes on a hot plate, and sold them
+      dotted with butter and sprinkled with sugar to the lucky
+      possessors of a <i>sou</i>. Even the sharp urchin who
+      presided over the old red umbrella, which, reversed, with the
+      ferule fixed in a cross-bar of wood, served as a receptacle
+      for sheets of festive note-paper embellished with lace edges
+      and further adorned with coloured scraps, temporarily
+      entrusting a juvenile sister with his responsibilities, added
+      his presence to our court.
+    </p><a name="image-27"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx44.png" width="165" height="350" align="right"
+      alt="Rosine">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Christmas-trees seemed not to be greatly in demand in
+      Versailles, and many were the whispered communings as to what
+      <i>les Anglais</i> proposed doing with the tree after they
+      had bought it. When the transaction was completed and
+      Grand'mere Gomard had exchanged the tree, with a sheet of
+      <i>La Patrie</i> wrapped round its pot, for a franc and our
+      thanks, the interest increased. We would require some one to
+      carry our purchase, and each of the bright-eyed,
+      short-cropped Jeans and Pierres was eager to offer himself.
+      But our selection was already made. A slender boy in a
+      <i>b&eacute;ret</i> and black pinafore, who had been our
+      earliest spectator, was singled out and entrusted with the
+      conveyance of the <i>arbre de No&euml;l</i> to our hotel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The fact that it had met with approbation appeared to
+      encourage the little tree. The change may have been
+      imaginary, but from the moment it passed into our possession
+      the branches seemed less despondent, the needles more erect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "Will you put toys on it?" the youthful porter asked
+      suddenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "Yes; it is for a sick boy&mdash;a boy who has fever. Have
+      you ever had an <i>arbre de No&euml;l</i>?"
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "<i>Jamais</i>," was his conclusive reply: the tone thereof
+      suggesting that that was a felicity quite beyond the range of
+      possibility.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The tree secured, there began the comparatively difficult
+      work of finding the customary ornaments of glass and glitter
+      to deck it. A fruitless search had left us almost in despair,
+      when, late on Monday afternoon, we joyed to discover
+      miniature candles of red, yellow, and blue on the open-air
+      stall in front of a toy-store. A rummage in the interior of
+      the shop procured candle clips, and a variety of glittering
+      bagatelles. Laden with treasure, we hurried back to the
+      hotel, and began the work of decoration in preparation for
+      the morning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      During its short stay in our room at the hotel, the erstwhile
+      despised little tree met with an adulation that must have
+      warmed the heart within its rough stem. When nothing more
+      than three coloured glass globes, a gilded walnut, and a
+      gorgeous humming-bird with wings and tail of spun glass had
+      been suspended by narrow ribbon from its branches, Rosine,
+      the pretty Swiss chambermaid, chancing to enter the room with
+      letters, was struck with admiration and pronounced it
+      "tr&egrave;s belle!"
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Karl bringing in a fresh <i>panier</i> of logs when the
+      adorning was complete, and silly little delightful baubles
+      sparkled and twinkled from every spray, putting down his
+      burden, threw up his hands in amazement and declared the
+      <i>arbre de No&euml;l</i> "magnifique!"
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This alien Christmas-tree had an element all its own. When we
+      were searching for knick-knacks the shops were full of tiny
+      Holy Babes lying cradled in waxen innocence in mangers of
+      yellow corn. One of these little effigies we had bought
+      because they pleased us. And when, the decoration of the tree
+      being nearly finished, the tip of the centre stem standing
+      scraggily naked called for covering, what more fitting than
+      that the dear little Sacred <i>B&eacute;b&eacute;</i> in his
+      nest of golden straw should have the place of honour?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was late on Christmas Eve before our task was ended. But
+      next morning when Karl, carrying in our <i>petit
+      d&eacute;je&ucirc;ner</i>, turned on the electric light, and
+      our anxious gaze sought our work, we found it good.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then followed a hurried packing of the loose presents; and, a
+      <i>fiacre</i> having been summoned, the tree which had
+      entered the room in all humility passed out transmogrified
+      beyond knowledge. Rosine, duster in hand, leant over the
+      banisters of the upper landing to watch its descent. Karl saw
+      it coming and flew to open the outer door for its better
+      egress. Even the stout old driver of the red-wheeled cab
+      creaked cumbrously round on his box to look upon its
+      beauties.
+    </p><a name="image-28"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx46.png" width="400" height="499" alt=
+      "Alms and the Lady">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      The Market was busy in the square as we rattled through. From
+      behind their battlemented wares the country mice waged wordy
+      war with the town mice over the price of merchandise. But on
+      this occasion we were too engrossed to notice a scene whose
+      picturesque humour usually fascinated us, for as the carriage
+      jogged over the rough roads the poor little <i>arbre de
+      No&euml;l</i> palpitated convulsively. The gewgaws clattered
+      like castanets, as though in frantic expostulation, and the
+      radiant spun-glass humming-birds quivered until we expected
+      them to break from their elastic fetters and fly away. The
+      green and scarlet one with the gold-flecked wings fell on the
+      floor and rolled under the seat just as the cab drew up at
+      the great door of the school.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two Red-Cross prisoners who, now that the dominating heat
+      of fever had faded, were thinking wistfully of the forbidden
+      joys of home, had no suspicion of our intention, and we
+      wished to surprise them. So, burdened with our treasure, we
+      slipped in quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From her lodge window the concierge nodded approval. And at
+      the door of the hospital the good Soeur received us, a flush
+      of pleasure glorifying her tranquil face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then followed a moment wherein the patients were ordered to
+      shut their eyes, to reopen them upon the vision splendid of
+      the <i>arbre de No&euml;l</i>. Perhaps it was the contrast to
+      the meagre background of the tiny school-hospital room, with
+      its two white beds and bare walls, but, placed in full view
+      on the centre table, the tree was almost imposing. Standing
+      apart from Grand'mere's primulas and cyclamen as though,
+      conscious of its own inferiority, it did not wish to obtrude,
+      it had looked dejected, miserable. During its sojourn at the
+      hotel the appreciation of its meanness had troubled us. But
+      now, in the shabby little chamber, where there were no rival
+      attractions to detract from its glory, we felt proud of it.
+      It was just the right size for the surroundings. A two-franc
+      tree, had Grand'mere possessed one, would have been
+      Brobdignagian and pretentious.
+    </p><a name="image-29"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx48.png" width="400" height="482" alt="Adoration">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      A donor who is handicapped by the knowledge that the gifts he
+      selects must within a few weeks be destroyed by fire, is
+      rarely lavish in his outlay. Yet our presents, wrapped in
+      white paper and tied with blue ribbons, when arranged round
+      the flower-pot made a wonderful show, There were mounted
+      Boers who, when you pressed the ball at the end of the
+      air-tube, galloped in a wobbly, uncertain fashion. The
+      invalids had good fun later trying races with them, and the
+      Boy professed to find that his Boer gained an accelerated
+      speed when he whispered "Bobs" to him. There were tales of
+      adventure and flasks of eau-de-Cologne and smart virile
+      pocket-books, one red morocco, the other blue. We regretted
+      the pocket-books; but their possession made the recipients
+      who, boylike, took no heed for the cleansing fires of the
+      morrow, feel grown-up at once. And they yearned for the
+      advent of the first day of the year, that they might begin
+      writing in their new diaries. For the Sister there was a
+      miniature gold consecrated medal. It was a small tribute of
+      our esteem, but one that pleased the devout recipient.
+    </p><a name="image-30"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx49a.png" width="165" height="381" align="left"
+      alt="Thankfulness">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Suspended among the purely ornamental trinkets of the tree
+      hung tiny net bags of crystallised violets and many large
+      chocolates rolled up in silver paper. The boys, who had
+      subsisted for several days on nothing more exciting than
+      boiled milk, openly rejoiced when they caught sight of the
+      sweets. But to her patients' disgust, the Soeur, who had a
+      pretty wit of her own, promptly frustrated their intentions
+      by counting the dainties.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "I count the chocolates. They are good boys, wise boys,
+      honest boys, and I have every confidence in them, but&mdash;I
+      count the chocolates!" said the Soeur.
+    </p><a name="image-31"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx49b.png" width="165" height="266" align="right"
+      alt="One of the Devout">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      As we passed back along the Rue de la Paroisse, worshippers
+      were flocking in and out of Notre Dame, running the gauntlet
+      of the unsavoury beggars who, loudly importunate, thronged
+      the portals. Before the quiet nook wherein, under a
+      gold-bestarred canopy, was the tableau of the Infant Jesus in
+      the stable, little children stood in wide-eyed adoration, and
+      older people gazed with mute devotion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Some might deem the little spectacle theatrical, and there
+      was a slight irrelevance in the pot-plants that were grouped
+      along the foreground, but none could fail to be impressed by
+      the silent reverence of the congregation. No service was in
+      process, yet many believers knelt at prayer. Here a pretty
+      girl returned thanks for evident blessings received; there an
+      old spinster, the narrowness of whose means forbade her
+      expending a couple of sous on the hire of a chair, knelt on
+      the chilly flags and murmured words of gratitude for benefits
+      whereof her appearance bore no outward indication.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We had left the prisoners to the enjoyment of their newly
+      acquired property in the morning. At gloaming we again
+      mounted the time-worn outside stair leading to the chamber
+      whose casement bore the ominous red cross. The warm glow of
+      firelight filled the room, scintillating in the glittering
+      facets of the baubles on the tree; and from their pillows two
+      pale-faced boys&mdash;boys who, despite their lengthening
+      limbs were yet happily children at heart&mdash;watched
+      eager-eyed while the sweet-faced Soeur, with reverential
+      care, lit the candles that surrounded the Holy
+      <i>B&eacute;b&eacute;</i>.
+    </p><a name="2HCH05"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER V
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      LE JOUR DE L'ANN&Eacute;E
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      The closing days of 1900 had been unusually mild. Versailles
+      townsfolk, watching the clear skies for sign of change,
+      declared that it would be outside all precedent if Christmas
+      week passed without snow. But, defiant of rule, sunshine
+      continued, and the new century opened cloudless and bright.
+    </p><a name="image-32"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx51.png" width="250" height="446" align="left"
+              alt="De L'eau Chaude">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Karl, entering with hot water, gave us seasonable greeting,
+      and as we descended the stair, pretty Rosine, brushing boots
+      at the open window of the landing, also wished us a smiling
+      <i>bonne nouvelle ann&eacute;e</i>. But within or without
+      there was little token of gaiety. Sundry booths for the sale
+      of gingerbread and cheap <i>jouets</i>, which had been
+      erected in the Avenue de St. Cloud, found business
+      languishing, though a stalwart countryman in blouse and
+      sabots, whose stock-in-trade consisted of whirligigs
+      fashioned in the semblance of <i>moulins rouges</i> and
+      grotesque blue Chinamen which he carried stuck into a straw
+      wreath fixed on a tall pole, had no lack of custom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The great food question never bulks so largely in the public
+      interest as at the close of a year, so perhaps it was but
+      natural that the greatest appreciation of the festive
+      traditions of the season should be evinced by the shops
+      devoted to the sale of provender. Turkeys sported scarlet
+      bows on their toes as though anticipating a dance rather than
+      the oven; and by their sides sausages, their somewhat
+      plethoric waists girdled by pink ribbon sashes, seemed ready
+      to join them in the frolic. In one cookshop window a trio of
+      plaster nymphs who stood ankle-deep in a pool of crimped
+      green paper, upheld a huge garland of cunningly moulded wax
+      roses, dahlias, and lilac, above which perched a pheasant
+      regnant. This trophy met with vast approbation until a rival
+      establishment across the way, not to be outdone, exhibited a
+      centrepiece of unparalleled originality, consisting as it did
+      of a war scene modelled entirely in lard. Entrenched behind
+      the battlements of the fort crowning an eminence, Boers
+      busied themselves with cannon whose aim was carefully
+      directed towards the admiring spectators outside the window,
+      not at the British troops who were essaying to scale the
+      greasy slopes. Half way up the hill, a miniature train
+      appeared from time to time issuing from an absolutely
+      irrelevant tunnel, and, progressing at the rate of quite a
+      mile an hour, crawled into the corresponding tunnel on the
+      other side. At the base of the hill British soldiers, who
+      seemed quite cognisant of the utter futility of the Boer
+      gunnery, were complacently driving off cattle. Captious
+      critics might have taken exception to the fact that the waxen
+      camellias adorning the hill were nearly as big as the
+      battlements, and considerably larger than the engine of the
+      train. But fortunately detractors were absent, and such
+      trifling discrepancies did not lessen the genuine delight
+      afforded the spectators by this unique design which, as a
+      card proudly informed the world, was entirely the work of the
+      employ&eacute;s of the firm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was in a p&acirc;tisserie in the Rue de la Paroisse that
+      we noticed an uninviting compound labelled "Pudding Anglais,
+      2 fr. 1/2 kilo." A little thought led us to recognise in this
+      amalgamation a travesty of our old friend plum-pudding; but
+      so revolting was its dark, bilious-looking exterior that we
+      felt its claim to be accounted a compatriot almost insulting.
+      And it was with secret gratification that towards the close
+      of January we saw the same stolid, unhappy blocks awaiting
+      purchasers.
+    </p><a name="image-33"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx53.png" width="250" height="370" align="left"
+              alt="The Mill">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      The presence of the customary Tuesday market kept the streets
+      busy till noon. But when the square was again empty of
+      sellers and buyers Versailles relapsed into quietude. I
+      wonder if any other town of its size is as silent as
+      Versailles. There is little horse-traffic. Save for the
+      weird, dirge-like drone of the electric cars, which seems in
+      perfect consonance with the tone of sadness pervading the old
+      town whose glory has departed, the clang of the wooden shoes
+      on the rough pavement, and the infrequent beat of hoofs as a
+      detachment of cavalry moves by, unnatural stillness seems to
+      prevail.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Of street music there was none, though once an old couple
+      wailing a plaintive duet passed under our windows. Britain is
+      not esteemed a melodious nation, yet the unclassical piano is
+      ever with us, and even in the smallest provincial towns one
+      is rarely out of hearing of the insistent note of some
+      itinerant musician. And no matter how far one penetrates into
+      the recesses of the country, he is always within reach of
+      some bucolic rendering of the popular music-hall ditty of the
+      year before last. But never during our stay in Versailles, a
+      stay that included what is supposedly the gay time of the
+      year, did we hear the sound of an instrument, or&mdash;with
+      the one exception of the old couple, whom it would be rank
+      flattery to term vocalists&mdash;the note of a voice raised
+      in song.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With us, New Year's Day was a quiet one. A dozen miles
+      distant, Paris was welcoming the advent of the new century in
+      a burst of feverish excitement. But despite temptations, we
+      remained in drowsy Versailles, and spent several of the hours
+      in the little room where two pallid Red-Cross knights, who
+      were celebrating the occasion by sitting up for the first
+      time, waited expectant of our coming as their one link with
+      the outside world.
+    </p><a name="image-34"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx54.png" width="400" height="276" alt=
+      "The Presbytery">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      It was with a sincere thrill of pity that at
+      <i>d&eacute;je&ucirc;ner</i> we glanced round the
+      <i>salle-&agrave;-manger</i> and found all the Ogams filling
+      their accustomed solitary places. Only Dunois the
+      comparatively young, and presumably brave, was absent. The
+      others occupied their usual seats, eating with their
+      unfailing air of introspective absorption. Nobody had cared
+      enough for these lonely old men to ask them to fill a corner
+      at their tables, even on New Year's Day. To judge by their
+      regular attendance at the hotel meals, these men&mdash;all of
+      whom, as shown by their wearing the red ribbon of the Legion
+      of Honour, had merited distinction&mdash;had little
+      hospitality offered them. Most probably they offered as
+      little, for, throughout our stay, none ever had a friend to
+      share his breakfast or dinner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The bearing of the hotel guests suggested absolute ignorance
+      of one another's existence. The Colonels, as I have said in a
+      previous chapter, were exceptions, but even they held
+      intercourse only without the hotel walls. Day after day,
+      month after month, year after year as we were told, these men
+      had fed together, yet we never saw them betray even the most
+      cursory interest in one another. They entered and departed
+      without revealing, by word or look, cognisance of another
+      human being's presence. Could one imagine a dozen men of any
+      other nationality thus maintaining the same indifference over
+      even a short period? I hope future experience will prove me
+      wrong, but in the meantime my former conception of the French
+      as a nation overflowing with <i>bonhomie</i> and
+      <i>camaraderie</i> is rudely shaken.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The day of the year would have passed without anything to
+      distinguish it from its fellows had not the proprietor, who,
+      by the way, was a Swiss, endeavoured by sundry little
+      attentions to reveal his goodwill. Oysters usurped the place
+      of the customary <i>hors d'oeuvres</i> at breakfast, and the
+      meal ended with <i>caf&eacute; noir</i> and cognac handed
+      round by the deferential Iorson as being "offered by the
+      proprietor," who, entering during the progress of the
+      <i>d&eacute;je&ucirc;ner</i>, paid his personal respects to
+      his <i>client&egrave;le</i>.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The afternoon brought us a charming discovery. We had a boy
+      guest with us at luncheon, a lonely boy left at school when
+      his few compatriots&mdash;save only the two Red-Cross
+      prisoners&mdash;had gone home on holiday. The day was bright
+      and balmy; and while strolling in the park beyond the Petit
+      Trianon, we stumbled by accident upon the <i>hameau</i>, the
+      little village of counterfeit rusticity wherein Marie
+      Antoinette loved to play at country life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Following a squirrel that sported among the trees, we had
+      strayed from the beaten track, when, through the leafless
+      branches, we caught sight of roofs and houses and, wandering
+      towards them, found ourselves by the side of a miniature
+      lake, round whose margin were grouped the daintiest rural
+      cottages that monarch could desire or Court architect design.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      History had told us of the creation of this unique plaything
+      of the capricious Queen, but we had thought of it as a thing
+      of the past, a toy whose fragile beauty had been wrecked by
+      the rude blows of the Revolution. The matter-of-fact and
+      unromantic Baedeker, it is true, gives it half a line. After
+      devoting pages to the Ch&acirc;teau, its grounds, pictures,
+      and statues, and detailing exhaustively the riches of the
+      Trianons, he blandly mentions the gardens of the Petit
+      Trianon as containing "some fine exotic trees, an artificial
+      lake, a Temple of Love, and a hamlet where the Court ladies
+      played at peasant life."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It is doubtful whether ten out of every hundred tourists who,
+      Baedeker in hand, wander conscientiously over the grand
+      Ch&acirc;teau&mdash;Palace, alas! no longer&mdash;ever notice
+      the concluding words, or, reading its lukewarm
+      recommendation, deem the hamlet worthy of a visit. The
+      Ch&acirc;teau is an immense building crammed with artistic
+      achievements, and by the time the sightseer of ordinary
+      capacity has seen a tenth of the pictures, a third of the
+      sculpture, and a half of the fountains, his endurance, if not
+      all his patience, is exhausted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I must acknowledge that we, too, had visited Versailles
+      without discovering that the <i>hameau</i> still existed; so
+      to chance upon it in the sunset glow of that winter evening
+      seemed to carry us back to the time when the storm-cloud of
+      the Revolution was yet no larger than a man's hand; to the
+      day when Louis XVI., making for once a graceful speech,
+      presented the site to his wife, saying: "You love flowers.
+      Ah! well, I have a bouquet for you&mdash;the Petit Trianon."
+      And his Queen, weary of the restrictions of Court
+      ceremony&mdash;though it must be admitted that the willful
+      Marie Antoinette ever declined to be hampered by
+      convention&mdash;experiencing in her residence in the little
+      house freedom from etiquette, pursued the novel pleasure to
+      its furthest by commanding the erection in its grounds of a
+      village wherein she might the better indulge her newly
+      fledged fancy for make-believe rusticity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      About the pillars supporting the verandah-roof of the chief
+      cottage and that of the wide balcony above, roses and vines
+      twined lovingly. And though it was the first day of January,
+      the rose foliage was yet green and bunches of shrivelled
+      grapes clung to the vines. It was lovely then; yet a day or
+      two later, when a heavy snowfall had cast a white mantle over
+      the village, and the little lake was frozen hard, the scene
+      seemed still more beautiful in its ghostly purity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At first sight there was no sign of decay about the
+      long-deserted hamlet. The windows were closed, but had it
+      been early morning, one could easily have imagined that the
+      pseudo villagers were asleep behind the shuttered casements,
+      and that soon the Queen, in some charming
+      <i>d&eacute;shabill&eacute;</i>, would come out to breathe
+      the sweet morning air and to inhale the perfume of the
+      climbing roses on the balcony overlooking the lake, wherein
+      gold-fish darted to and fro among the water-lilies; or expect
+      to see the King, from the steps of the little mill where he
+      lodged, exchange blithe greetings with the maids of honour as
+      they tripped gaily to the <i>laiterie</i> to play at
+      butter-making, or sauntered across the rustic bridge on their
+      way to gather new-laid eggs at the farm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sunset glamour had faded and the premature dusk of
+      mid-winter was falling as, approaching nearer, we saw where
+      the roof-thatch had decayed, where the insidious finger of
+      Time had crumbled the stone walls. A chilly wind arising,
+      moaned through the naked trees. The shadow of the guillotine
+      seemed to brood oppressively over the scene, and, shuddering,
+      we hastened away.
+    </p><a name="2HCH06"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p><a name="image-35"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx58.png" width="500" height="335" alt=
+      "To the Place of Rest">
+    </center>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VI
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      ICE-BOUND
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Even in the last days of December rosebuds had been trying to
+      open on the standard bushes in the sheltered rose-garden of
+      the Palace. But with the early nights of January a sudden
+      frost seized the town in its icy grip, and, almost before we
+      had time to realise the change of weather, pipes were frozen
+      and hot-water bottles of strange design made their appearance
+      in the upper corridors of the hotel. The naked cherubs in the
+      park basins stood knee-deep in ice, skaters skimmed the
+      smooth surface of the canal beyond the <i>tapis vert</i>, and
+      in a twinkling Versailles became a town peopled by gnomes and
+      brownies whose faces peeped quaintly from within conical
+      hoods.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Soldiers drew their cloak-hoods over their uniform caps.
+      Postmen went their rounds thus snugly protected from the
+      weather. The doddering old scavengers, plying their brooms
+      among the great trees of the avenues, bore so strong a
+      resemblance to the pixies who lurk in caves and woods, that
+      we almost expected to see them vanish into some crevice in
+      the gnarled roots of the trunks. Even the tiny acolytes
+      trotting gravely in the funeral processions had their heads
+      and shoulders shrouded in the prevailing hooded capes.
+    </p><a name="image-36"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx59.png" width="400" height="402" alt=
+      "While the Frost Holds">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      To us, accustomed though we were to an inclement winter
+      climate, the chill seemed intense. So frigid was the
+      atmosphere that the first step taken from the heated hotel
+      hall into the outer air felt like putting one's face against
+      an iceberg. All wraps of ordinary thickness appeared
+      incapable of excluding the cold, and I sincerely envied the
+      countless wearers of the dominant Capuchin cloaks.
+    </p><a name="image-37"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx60.png" width="400" height="544" alt=
+      "The Postman's Wrap">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Our room was many-windowed, and no matter how high Karl piled
+      the logs, nor how close we sat to the flames, our backs never
+      felt really warm. It was only when night had fallen and the
+      outside shutters were firmly closed that the thermometer
+      suspended near the chimney-piece grudgingly consented to
+      record temperate heat.
+    </p><a name="image-38"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx61.png" width="400" height="496" alt=
+      "A Lapful of Warmth">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      But there was at least one snug chamber in Versailles, and
+      that was the room of the Red-Cross prisoners. However
+      extravagant the degrees of frost registered without, the
+      boys' sick-room was always pleasantly warm. How the good
+      Soeur, who was on duty all day, managed to regulate the heat
+      throughout the night-watches was her secret. A half-waking
+      boy might catch a glimpse of her, apparently robed as by day,
+      stealing out of the room; but so noiseless were her
+      movements, that neither of the invalids ever saw her stealing
+      in. They had a secret theory that in her own little
+      apartment, which was just beyond theirs, the Soeur, garbed,
+      hooded, and wearing rosary and the knotted rope of her Order,
+      passed her nights in devotion. Certain it was that even the
+      most glacial of weathers did not once avail to prevent her
+      attending the Mass that was held at Notre Dame each morning
+      before daybreak.
+    </p><a name="image-39"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx62.png" width="400" height="337" alt=
+      "The Daily Round">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Frost-flowers dulled the inner glories of the shop windows
+      with their unwelcome decoration. Even in the square on market
+      mornings business flagged. The country folks, chilled by
+      their cold drive to town, cowered, muffled in thick wraps,
+      over their little charcoal stoves, lacking energy to call
+      attention to their wares. The sage with the onions was
+      absent, but the pretty girl in the red hood held her
+      accustomed place, warming mittened fingers at a chaufferette
+      which she held on her lap. The only person who gave no
+      outward sign of misery was the boulang&egrave;re who,
+      harnessed to her heavy hand-cart, toiled unflinchingly on her
+      rounds.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the streets the comely little <i>bourgeoises</i> hid their
+      plump shoulders under ugly black knitted capes, and concealed
+      their neat hands in clumsy worsted gloves. But despite the
+      rigour of the atmosphere their heads, with the hair neatly
+      dressed <i>&agrave; la Chinoise</i>, remained uncovered. It
+      struck our unaccustomed eyes oddly to see these girls thus
+      exposed, standing on the pavement in the teeth of some icy
+      blast, talking to stalwart soldier friends, whose noses were
+      their only visible feature.
+    </p><a name="image-40"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx63.png" width="400" height="518" alt=
+      "Three Babes and a Bonne">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      The ladies of Versailles give a thought to their waists, but
+      they leave their ankles to Providence, and any one having
+      experience of Versailles winter streets can fully sympathise
+      with their trust; for even in dry sunny weather mud seems a
+      spontaneous production that renders goloshes a necessity. And
+      when frost holds the high-standing city in its frigid grasp
+      the extreme cold forbids any idea of coquetry, and thickly
+      lined boots with cloth uppers&mdash;a species of foot-gear
+      that in grace of outline is decidedly suggestive of
+      "arctics"&mdash;become the only comfortable wear.
+    </p><a name="image-41"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx64.png" width="400" height="588" alt=
+      "Snow in the Park">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      After a few days of thought-congealing cold&mdash;a cold so
+      intense that sundry country people who had left their homes
+      before dawn to drive into Paris with farm produce were taken
+      dead from their market-carts at the end of the
+      journey&mdash;the weather mercifully changed. A heavy
+      snowfall now tempered the inclement air, and turned the
+      leafless park into a fairy vision.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The nights were still cold, but during the day the sun
+      glinted warmly on the frozen waters of the gilded fountains
+      and sparkled on the facets of the crisp snow. The marble
+      benches in the sheltered nooks of the snug Ch&acirc;teau
+      gardens were occupied by little groups, which usually
+      consisted of a <i>bonne</i> and a baby, or of a chevalier and
+      a hopelessly unclassable dog; for the dogs of Versailles
+      belong to breeds that no man living could classify, the most
+      prevalent type in clumsiness of contour and astonishing
+      shagginess of coat resembling nothing more natural than those
+      human travesties of the canine race familiar to us in
+      pantomime.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Along the snow-covered paths under the leafless trees, on
+      whose branches close-wreathed mistletoe hangs like rooks'
+      nests, the statues stood like guardian angels of the scene.
+      They had lost their air of aloofness and were at one with the
+      white earth, just as the forest trees in their autumn dress
+      of brown and russet appear more in unison with their parent
+      soil than when decked in their bravery of summer greenery.
+    </p><a name="2HCH07"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VII
+    </h2>
+    <center>
+      THE HAUNTED CHATEAU
+    </center><a name="image-42"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx66.png" width="250" height="477" align="left"
+              alt="A Veteran of the Chateau">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      The Ch&acirc;teau of Versailles, like the town, dozes through
+      the winter, only half awakening on Sunday afternoons when the
+      townsfolk make it their meeting-place. Then conscripts, in
+      clumsy, ill-fitting uniforms, tread noisily over the shining
+      <i>parqueterie</i> floors, and burgesses gossip amicably in
+      the dazzling <i>Galerie des Glaces</i>, where each morning
+      courtiers were wont to await the uprising of their king. But
+      on the weekdays visitors are of the rarest. Sometimes a few
+      half-frozen people who have rashly automobiled thither from
+      Paris alight at the Ch&acirc;teau gates, and take a hurried
+      walk through the empty galleries to restore the circulation
+      to their stiffened limbs before venturing to set forth on the
+      return journey.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Every weekday in the Place d'Armes, squads of conscripts are
+      busily drilling, running hither and thither with unflagging
+      energy, and the air resounds with the hoarse staccato cries
+      of "Un! Deux! Trois!" wherewith they accompany their
+      movements, cries that, heard from a short distance, exactly
+      resemble the harsh barking of a legion of dogs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p><a name="image-43"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx67.png" width="400" height="331" alt=
+      "Un&mdash;deux&mdash;trois">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Within the gates there is a sense of leisure: even the
+      officials have ceased to anticipate visitors. In the <i>Cour
+      Royale</i> two little girls have cajoled an old guide into
+      playing a game of ball. A custodian dozes by the great log
+      fire in the bedroom of Louis XIV., where the warm firelight
+      playing on the rich trappings lends such an air of occupation
+      to the chamber, that&mdash;forgetting how time has turned to
+      grey the once white ostrich plumes adorning the canopy of the
+      bed, and that the priceless lace coverlet would probably fall
+      to pieces at a touch&mdash;one almost expects the door to
+      open for the entrance of Louis le Grand himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To this room he came when he built the Palace wherein to hide
+      from that grim summons with which the tower of the Royal
+      sepulture of St. Denis, visible from his former residence,
+      seemed to threaten him. And here it was that Death, after
+      long seeking, found him. We can see the little great-grandson
+      who was to succeed, lifted on to the bed of the dying
+      monarch.
+    </p><a name="image-44"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx68.png" width="400" height="499" alt=
+      "The Bedchamber of Louis XIV">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      "What is your name, my child?" asks the King.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "Louis XV;" replies the infant, taking brevet-rank. And
+      nearly sixty years later we see the child, his wasted life at
+      an end, dying of virulent smallpox under the same roof,
+      deserted by all save his devoted daughters.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To me the Palace of Versailles is peopled by the ghosts of
+      many women. A few of them are dowdy and good, but by far the
+      greater number are graceful and wicked. How infinitely easier
+      it is to make a good bad reputation than to achieve even a
+      bad good one! "Tell us stories about naughty children," we
+      used to beseech our nurses. And as our years increase we
+      still yawn over the doings of the righteous, while our
+      interest in the ways of transgressors only strengthens.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We all know by heart the romantic lives of the shrinking La
+      Valli&egrave;re, of Madame de Montespan the impassioned, of
+      sleek Madame de Maintenon&mdash;the trio of beauties honoured
+      by the admiration of Louis le Grand; and of the bevy of
+      favourites of Louis XV, the three fair and short-lived
+      sisters de Mailly-Nesle, the frail Pompadour who mingled
+      scheming with debauchery, and the fascinating but
+      irresponsible Du Barry. Even the most minute details of Marie
+      Antoinette's tragic career are fresh in our memories, but
+      which of us can remember the part in the history of France
+      played by Marie Leczinska? Yet, apart from her claim to
+      notability as having been the last queen who ended her days
+      on the French throne, her story is full of romantic interest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thrusting aside the flimsy veil of Time, we find Marie
+      Leczinska the penniless daughter of an exiled Polish king who
+      is living in retirement in a dilapidated commandatory at a
+      little town in Alsace. It is easy to picture the shabby room
+      wherein the unforeseeing Marie sits content between her
+      mother and grandmother, all three diligently broidering altar
+      cloths. Upon the peaceful scene the father enters, overcome
+      by emotion, trembling. His face announces great news, before
+      he can school his voice to speak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "Why, father! Have you been recalled to the throne of
+      Poland?" asks Marie, and the na&iuml;ve question reveals that
+      many years of banishment have not quenched in the hearts of
+      the exiles the hope of a return to their beloved Poland.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "No, my daughter, but you are to be Queen of France," replies
+      the father. "Let us thank God."
+    </p><a name="image-45"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx70.png" width="250" height="489" align="right"
+      alt="Marie Leczinska">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Knowing the sequel, one wonders if it was for a blessing or a
+      curse that the refugees, kneeling in that meagre room in the
+      old house at Wissenberg, returned thanks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Certain it is that the ministers of the boy-monarch were
+      actuated more by a craving to further their own ends than
+      either by the desire to please God or to honour their King,
+      in selecting this obscure maiden from the list of ninety-nine
+      marriageable princesses that had been drawn up at Versailles.
+      A dowerless damsel possessed of no influential relatives is
+      not in a position to be exacting, and, whate'er befell, poor
+      outlawed Stanislas Poniatowski could not have taken up arms
+      in defence of his daughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Having a sincere regard for unaffected Marie Leczinska, I
+      regret being obliged to admit that, even in youth, "comely"
+      was the most effusive adjective that could veraciously be
+      awarded her. And it is only in the lowest of whispers that I
+      will admit that she was seven years older than her handsome
+      husband, whose years did not then number seventeen. Yet is
+      there indubitable charm in the simple grace wherewith Marie
+      accepted her marvellous transformation from pauper to queen.
+      She disarmed criticism by refusing to conceal her former
+      poverty. "This is the first time in my life I have been able
+      to make presents," she frankly told the ladies of the Court,
+      as she distributed among them her newly got trinkets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It is pleasant to remember that the early years of her wedded
+      life passed harmoniously. Louis, though never passionately
+      enamoured of his wife, yet loved her with the warm affection
+      a young man bestows on the first woman he has possessed. And
+      that Marie was wholly content there is little doubt. She was
+      no gadabout. Versailles satisfied her. Three years passed
+      before she visited Paris, and then the visit was more of the
+      nature of a pilgrimage than of a State progress. Twin
+      daughters had blessed the union, and the Queen journeyed to
+      the churches of Notre Dame and Saint Genevi&egrave;ve to
+      crave from Heaven the boon of a Dauphin: a prayer which a
+      year later was answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But clouds were gathering apace. As he grew into manhood the
+      domestic virtues palled upon Louis. He tired of the
+      needlework which, doubtless, Marie's skilled hands had taught
+      him. We recall how, sitting between her mother and
+      grandmother, the future Queen had broidered altar cloths.
+      Marie Leczinska was an adoring mother; possibly her devotion
+      to their rapidly increasing family wearied him. Being little
+      more than a child himself, the King is scarcely likely to
+      have found the infantile society so engaging as did the
+      mother. Thus began that series of foolish infidelities that,
+      characterised by extreme timidity and secrecy at first, was
+      latterly flaunted in the face of the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie's life was not a smooth one, but it was happier than
+      that of her Royal spouse. To me there is nothing sadder,
+      nothing more sordid in history, than the feeble, useless
+      existence of Louis XV., whose early years promised so well.
+      It is pitiful to look at the magnificent portrait, still
+      hanging in the palace where he reigned, of the child-king
+      seated in his robes of State, the sceptre in his hand,
+      looking with eyes of innocent wonder into the future, then to
+      think upon the depth of degradation reached by the once
+      revered Monarch before his body was dragged in dishonour and
+      darkness to its last resting-place.
+    </p><a name="image-46"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx72.png" width="250" height="351" align="right"
+      alt="Madame Adelaide">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Pleasanter figures that haunt the Ch&acirc;teau are those of
+      the six pretty daughters of Louis and Marie Leczinska. There
+      are the ill-starred twins, Elizabeth and Henrietta: Madame
+      Elizabeth, who never lost the love of her old home, and,
+      though married, before entering her teens, to the Infanta of
+      Spain, retired, after a life of disappointment, to her
+      beloved Versailles to die; and the gentle Henrietta who,
+      cherishing an unlucky passion for the young Duc de Chartres,
+      pined quietly away after witnessing her lover wed to another.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then there is Adelaide, whom Nattier loved to paint,
+      portraying her sometimes as a lightly clad goddess, sometimes
+      sitting demurely in a pretty frock. Good Nattier! there is a
+      later portrait of himself in complacent middle age surrounded
+      by his wife and children; but I like to think that, when he
+      spent so many days at the Palace painting the young Princess,
+      some tenderer influence than mere artistic skill lent cunning
+      to his brush.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the daughters of Louis XV. were sent to be educated at a
+      convent, Adelaide it was who, by tearful protest to her royal
+      father, gained permission to remain at the Palace while her
+      sisters meekly endured their banishment. From this instance
+      of childish character one would have anticipated a career for
+      Madame Adelaide, and I hate being obliged to think of her
+      merely developing into one of the three spinster aunts of
+      Louis XVI. who, residing under the same roof, turned coldly
+      disapproving eyes upon the manifold frailties of their niece,
+      Marie Antoinette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sisters Victoire and Sophie are faint shades leaving no
+      impression on the memory; but there is another spirit, clad
+      in the sombre garb of a Carmelite nun, who, standing aloof,
+      looks with the calm eyes of peace on the motley throng. It is
+      Louise, the youngest sister of all, who, deeply grieved by
+      her father's infatuation for the Du Barry&mdash;an
+      infatuation which, beginning within a month of Marie
+      Leczinska's decease, ended only when on his deathbed the
+      dying Monarch prepared to receive absolution by bidding his
+      inamorata farewell&mdash;resolved to flee her profligate
+      surroundings and devote her life to holiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It is affecting to think of the gentle Louise, secretly
+      anticipating the rigours of convent life, torturing her
+      delicate skin by wearing coarse serge, and burning tallow
+      candles in her chamber to accustom herself to their
+      detestable odour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her father's consent gained, Louise still tarried at
+      Versailles. Perhaps the King's daughter shrank from
+      voluntarily beginning a life of imprisoned drudgery. We know
+      that at this period she passed many hours reading
+      contemporary history, knowing that, once within the convent
+      walls, the study of none but sacred literature would be
+      permitted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then came an April morning when Louise, who had kept her
+      intention secret from all save her father, left the Palace
+      never to return. France, in a state of joyous excitement, was
+      eagerly anticipating the arrival of Marie Antoinette, who was
+      setting forth on the first stage of that triumphal journey
+      which had so tragic an ending. Already the gay clamour of
+      wedding-bells filled the air; and Louise may have feared
+      that, did she linger at Versailles, the enticing vanities of
+      the world might change the current of her thoughts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Chief among the impalpable throng that people the state
+      galleries is Marie Antoinette, and her spirit shows us many
+      faces. It is charming, haughty, considerate, headstrong,
+      frivolous, thoughtful, degraded, dignified, in quick
+      succession. We see her arrive at the Palace amid the
+      tumultuous adoration of the crowd, and leave amidst its
+      execrations. Sometimes she is richly apparelled, as befits a
+      queen; anon she sports the motley trappings of a mountebank.
+      The courtyard that saw the departure of Madame Louise
+      witnesses Marie Antoinette, returning at daybreak in company
+      with her brother-in-law from some festivity unbecoming a
+      queen, refused admittance by the King's express command.
+    </p><a name="image-47"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx74.png" width="250" height="374" align="right"
+      alt="Louis Quatorze">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Many of the attendant spirits who haunt Marie Antoinette's
+      ghostly footsteps as they haunted her earthly ones are
+      malefic. Most are women, and all are young and fair. There is
+      Madame Roland, who, taken as a young girl to the Palace to
+      peep at the Royalties, became imbued by that jealous hatred
+      which only the Queen's death could appease.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "If I stay here much longer," she told that kindly mother who
+      sought to give her a treat by showing her Court life, "I
+      shall detest these people so much that I shall be unable to
+      hide my hatred."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It is easy to fancy the girl's evil face scowling at the
+      unconscious Queen, before she leaves to pen those
+      inflammatory pamphlets which are to prove the Sovereign's
+      undoing and her own. For by some whim of fate Madame Roland
+      was executed on the very scaffold to which her envenomed
+      writings had driven Marie Antoinette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A spectre that impresses as wearing rags under a gorgeous
+      robe, lurks among the foliage of the quiet <i>bosquet</i>
+      beyond the orangerie. It is the infamous Madame de la Motte,
+      chief of adventuresses, and it was in that secluded grove
+      that her tool, Cardinal de Rohan, had his pretended interview
+      with the Queen. Poor, perfidious Contesse! what an existence
+      of alternate beggarly poverty and beggarly riches was hers
+      before that last scene of all when she lay broken and bruised
+      almost beyond human semblance in that dingy London courtyard
+      beneath the window from which, in a mad attempt to escape
+      arrest, she had thrown herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Through the Royal salons flits a presence whereat the shades
+      of the Royal Princesses look askance: that of the frolicsome,
+      good-natured, irresponsible Du Barry. A soulless ephemera
+      she, with no ambitions or aspirations, save that, having
+      quitted the grub stage, she desires to be as brilliant a
+      butterfly as possible. Close in attendance on her moves an
+      ebon shadow&mdash;Zamora, the ingrate foundling who, reared
+      by the Duchesse, swore that he would make his benefactress
+      ascend the scaffold, and kept his oath. For our last sight of
+      the prodigal, warm-hearted Du Barry, plaything of the aged
+      King, is on the guillotine, where in agonies of terror she
+      fruitlessly appeals to her executioner's clemency.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But of all the bygone dames who haunt the grand
+      Ch&acirc;teau, the only one I detest is probably the most
+      irreproachable of all&mdash;Madame de Maintenon. There is
+      something so repulsively sanctimonious in her aspect,
+      something so crafty in the method wherewith, under the cloak
+      of religion, she wormed her way into high places,
+      ousting&mdash;always in the name of propriety&mdash;those who
+      had helped her. Her stepping-stone to Royal favour was
+      handsome, impetuous Madame de Montespan, who, taking
+      compassion on her widowed poverty, appointed Madame Scarron,
+      as she then was, governess of her children, only to find her
+      <i>prot&eacute;g&eacute;e</i> usurp her place both in the honours of
+      the King and in the affections of their children.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The natural heart rebels against the "unco guid," and Madame
+      de Maintenon, with her smooth expression, double chin, sober
+      garments and ever-present symbols of piety, revolts me. I
+      know it is wrong. I know that historians laud her for the
+      wholesome influence she exercised upon the mind of a king who
+      had grown timorous with years; that the dying Queen declared
+      that she owed the King's kindness to her during the last
+      twenty years of her life entirely to Madame de Maintenon. But
+      we know also that six months after the Queen's death an
+      unwonted light showed at midnight in the Chapel Royal, where
+      Madame de Maintenon&mdash;the child of a prison
+      cell&mdash;was becoming the legal though unacknowledged wife
+      of Louis XIV. The impassioned, uncalculating de Montespan had
+      given the handsome Monarch her all without stipulation. Truly
+      the career of Madame de Maintenon was a triumph of virtue
+      over vice; and yet of all that heedless, wanton throng, my
+      soul detests only her.
+    </p><a name="2HCH08"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p><a name="image-48"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx77.png" width="500" height="342" alt=
+      "Where the Queen Played">
+    </center>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VIII
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      MARIE ANTOINETTE
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Stereotyped sights are rarely the most engrossing. At the
+      Palace of Versailles the <i>petits appartements de la
+      Reine</i>, those tiny rooms whose grey old-world furniture
+      might have been in use yesterday, to me hold more actuality
+      than all the regal salons in whose vast emptiness footsteps
+      reverberate like echoes from the past.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the pretty sitting-room the coverings to-day are a
+      reproduction of the same pale blue satin that draped the
+      furniture in the days when queens preferred the snug
+      seclusion of those dainty rooms overlooking the dank inner
+      courtyard to the frigid grandeur of their State chambers.
+      Therein it was that Marie Leczinska was wont to instruct her
+      young daughters in the virtues as she had known them in her
+      girlhood's thread-bare home, not as her residence at the
+      profligate French Court had taught her to understand them.
+    </p><a name="image-49"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx78.png" width="250" height="543" alt=
+      "Marie Antoinette">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      The heavy gilt bolts bearing the interlaced initials M.A.
+      remind us that these, too, were the favourite rooms of Marie
+      Antoinette, and that in all probability the cunningly
+      entwined bolts were the handiwork of her honest spouse, who
+      wrought at his blacksmith forge below while his wife flirted
+      above. But in truth the <i>petits appartements</i> are
+      instinct with memories of Marie Antoinette, and it is
+      difficult to think of any save only her occupying them. The
+      beautiful <i>coffre</i> presented to her with the layette of
+      the Dauphin still stands on a table in an adjoining chamber,
+      and the paintings on its white silk casing are scarcely faded
+      yet, though the decorative ruching of green silk leaves has
+      long ago fallen into decay.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A step farther is the little white and gold boudoir which
+      still holds the mirror that gave the haughty Queen her first
+      premonition of the catastrophe that awaited her. Viewed
+      casually the triple mirror, lining an alcove wherein stands a
+      couch garlanded with flowers, betrays no sinister qualities.
+      But any visitor who approaches looking at his reflection
+      where at the left the side panels meet the angle of the wall,
+      will be greeted by a sight similar to that whose tragic
+      suggestion made even the haughty Queen pause a moment in her
+      reckless career. For in the innocent appearing mirrors the
+      gazer is reflected without a head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was through this liliputian suite, this strip of
+      homeliness so artfully introduced into a palace, that Marie
+      Antoinette fled on that fateful August morning when the mob
+      of infuriated women invaded the Ch&acirc;teau.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Knowing this, I was puzzling over the transparent fact that
+      either of the apparent exits would have led her directly into
+      the hands of the enemy, when the idea of a secret staircase
+      suggested itself. A little judicious inquiry elicited the
+      information that one did exist. "But it is not seen. It is
+      locked. To view it, an order from the Commissary&mdash;that
+      is necessary," explained the old guide.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To know that a secret staircase, and one of such vivid
+      historical importance, was at hand, and not to have seen it
+      would have been too tantalising. The "Commissary" was an
+      unknown quantity, and for a space it seemed as though our
+      desire would be ungratified. Happily the knowledge of our
+      interest awoke a kindly reciprocity in our guide, who,
+      hurrying off, quickly returned with the venerable custodian
+      of the key. A moment later, the unobtrusive panel that
+      concealed the exit flew open at its touch, and the secret
+      staircase, dark, narrow, and hoary with the dust of years,
+      lay before us.
+    </p><a name="image-50"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx80.png" width="400" height="617" alt=
+      "The Secret Stair">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Many must have been the romantic meetings aided by those
+      diminutive steps, but, peering into their shadows, we saw
+      nothing but a vision of Marie Antoinette, half clad in
+      dishevelled wrappings of petticoat and shawl, flying
+      distracted from the vengeance of the furies through the
+      refuge of the low-roofed stairway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In my ingenuous youth, when studying French history, I
+      evolved a theory which seemed, to myself at least, to account
+      satisfactorily for the radical differences distinguishing
+      Louis XVI. from his brothers and antecedents. Finding that,
+      when a delicate infant, he had been sent to the country to
+      nurse, I rushed to the conclusion that the royal infant had
+      died, and that his foster-mother, fearful of the
+      consequences, had substituted a child of her own in his
+      place. The literature of the nursery is full of instances
+      that seemed to suggest the probability of my conjecture being
+      correct.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As a youth, Louis had proved himself both awkward and clumsy.
+      He was loutish, silent in company, ill at ease in his
+      princely surroundings, and in all respects unlike his younger
+      brothers. He was honest, sincere, pious, a faithful husband,
+      a devoted father; amply endowed, indeed, with the
+      middle-class virtues which at that period were but rarely
+      found in palaces. To my childish reasoning the most
+      convincing proof lay in his innate craving for physical
+      labour; a craving that no ridicule could dispel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With the romantic enthusiasm of youth, I used to fancy the
+      peasant mother stealing into the Palace among the spectators
+      who daily were permitted to view the royal couple at dinner,
+      and imagine her, having seen the King, depart glorying
+      secretly in the strategy that had raised her son to so high
+      an estate. There was another picture, in whose dramatic
+      misery I used to revel. It showed the unknown mother, who had
+      discovered that by her own act she had condemned her innocent
+      son to suffer for the sins of past generations of royal
+      profligates, journeying to Paris (in my dreams she always
+      wore sabots and walked the entire distance in a state of
+      extreme physical exhaustion) with the intention of preventing
+      his execution by declaring his lowly parentage to the mob.
+      The final tableau revealed her, footsore and weary, reaching
+      within sight of the guillotine just in time to see the
+      executioner holding up her son's severed head. I think my
+      imaginary heroine died of a broken heart at this juncture, a
+      catastrophe that would naturally account for her secret dying
+      with her.
+    </p><a name="image-51"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx82.png" width="300" height="575" alt=
+      "Madame Sans T&ecirc;te">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      During our winter stay at Versailles, my childish phantasies
+      recurred to me, and I almost found them feasible. What an
+      amazing irony of fate it would have shown had a son of the
+      soil expired to expiate the crimes of sovereigns!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But more pitiful by far than the saddest of illusions is the
+      sordid reality of a scene indelibly imprinted on my mental
+      vision. Memory takes me back to the twilight of a spring
+      Sunday several years ago, when in the wake of a cluster of
+      market folks we wandered into the old Cathedral of St. Denis.
+      Deep in the sombre shadows of the crypt a light gleamed
+      faintly through a narrow slit in the stone wall. Approaching,
+      we looked into a gloomy vault wherein, just visible by the
+      ray of a solitary candle, lay two zinc coffins.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Earth holds no more dismal sepulchre than that dark vault,
+      through the crevice in whose wall the blue-bloused marketers
+      cast curious glances. Yet within these grim coffins lie two
+      bodies with their severed heads, all that remains mortal of
+      the haughty Marie Antoinette and other humble spouse.
+    </p><a name="2HCH09"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p><a name="image-52"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx84.png" width="500" height="325" alt=
+      "Illumination">
+    </center>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IX
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      THE PRISONERS RELEASED
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      The first dread days, when the Boy, heavy with fever, seemed
+      scarcely to realise our presence, were swiftly followed by
+      placid hours when he lay and smiled in blissful content,
+      craving nothing, now that we were all together again. But
+      this state of beatitude was quickly ousted by a period of
+      discontent, when the hunger fiend reigned supreme in the
+      little room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "<i>Manger, manger, manger, tout le temps!"</i> Thus the
+      nurse epitomised the converse of her charges. And indeed she
+      was right, for, from morning till night, the prisoners'
+      solitary topic of conversation was food. During the first ten
+      days their diet consisted solely of boiled milk, and as that
+      time wore to a close the number of quarts consumed increased
+      daily, until Paul, the chief porter, seemed ever ascending
+      the little outside stair carrying full bottles of milk, or
+      descending laden with empty ones.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "Milk doesn't count. When shall we be allowed food,
+      <i>real</i> food?" was the constant cry, and their relief was
+      abounding when, on Christmas Day, the doctor withdrew his
+      prohibition, and permitted an approach to the desired solids.
+      But even then the prisoners, to their loudly voiced
+      disappointment, discovered that their only choice lay between
+      vermicelli and tapioca, nursery dishes which at home they
+      would have despised.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "<i>Tapioca!</i> Imagine tapioca for a Christmas dinner!" the
+      invalids exclaimed with disgust. But that scorn did not
+      prevent them devouring the mess and eagerly demanding more.
+      And thereafter the saucepan simmering over the gas-jet in the
+      outer room seemed ever full of savoury spoon-meat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I doubt if any zealous mother-bird ever had a busier time
+      feeding her fledglings than had the good Sister in satisfying
+      the appetites of these callow cormorants. To witness the
+      French nun seeking to allay the hunger of these voracious
+      schoolboy aliens was to picture a wren trying to fill the
+      ever-gaping beaks of two young cuckoos whom an adverse fate
+      had dropped into her nest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the days wore by, the embargo placed upon our desire to
+      cater for the invalids was gradually lifted, and little
+      things such as sponge biscuits and pears crept in to vary the
+      monotony of the milk diet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      New Year's Day held a tangible excitement, for that morning
+      saw a modified return to ordinary food, and, in place of
+      bottles of milk, Paul's load consisted of such tempting
+      selections from the school meals as were deemed desirable for
+      the invalids. Poultry not being included in the school menus,
+      we raided a cooked-provision shop and carried off a plump,
+      well-browned chicken. The approbation which met this venture
+      resulted in our supplying a succession of <i>poulettes</i>,
+      which, at the invalids' express desire, were smuggled into
+      their room under my cloak. Not that there was the most remote
+      necessity for concealment, but the invalids, whose sole
+      interest centred in food, laboured under the absurd idea
+      that, did the authorities know they were being supplied from
+      without, their regular meals would be curtailed to prevent
+      them over-eating.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The point of interest, for the Red-Cross prisoners at least,
+      in our morning visits lay in the unveiling of the eatables we
+      had brought. School food, however well arranged, is
+      necessarily stereotyped, and the element of the unknown ever
+      lurked in our packages. The sugar-sticks, chocolates, fruit,
+      little cakes, or what we had chanced to bring, were carefully
+      examined, criticised, and promptly devoured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A slight refreshment was served them during our short stay,
+      and when we departed we left them eagerly anticipating
+      luncheon. At gloaming, when we returned, it was to find them
+      busy with half-yards of the long crusty loaves, plates of
+      jelly, and tumblers, filled with milk on our Boy's part, and
+      with well diluted wine on that of his fellow sufferer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fear of starvation being momentarily averted, the Soeur used
+      to light fresh candles around the tiny Holy
+      <i>B&eacute;b&eacute;</i> on the still green Christmas-tree,
+      and for a space we sat quietly enjoying the radiance. But by
+      the time the last candle had flickered out, and the glow of a
+      commonplace paraffin lamp lighted the gloom, nature again
+      demanded nourishment; and we bade the prisoners farewell for
+      the night, happy in the knowledge that supper, sleep, and
+      breakfast would pleasantly while away the hours till our
+      return.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The elder Red-Cross knight was a tall, good-looking lad of
+      sixteen, the age when a boy wears painfully high collars,
+      shaves surreptitiously&mdash;and unnecessarily&mdash;with his
+      pen-knife, talks to his juniors about the tobacco he smokes
+      in a week, and cherishes an undying passion for a maiden
+      older than himself. He was ever an interesting study, though
+      I do not think I really loved him until he confided his
+      affairs of the heart, and entrusted me with the writing of
+      his love-letters. I know that behind my back he invariably
+      referred to me as "Ma"; but as he openly addressed the
+      unconscious nun as "you giddy old girl," "Ma" might almost be
+      termed respectful, and I think our regard was mutual.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All things come to him who waits. There came a night when for
+      the last time we sat together around the little tree,
+      watching the Soeur light the candles that illuminated the Holy
+      <i>B&eacute;b&eacute;</i>. On the morrow the prisoners,
+      carefully disinfected, and bearing the order of their release
+      in the form of a medical certificate, would be set free.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It clouded our gladness to know that before the patient
+      Sister stretched another period of isolation. Just that day
+      another pupil had developed scarlet fever, and only awaited
+      our boys' departure to occupy the little room. Hearing that
+      this fresh prisoner lay under sentence of durance vile, we
+      suggested that all the toys&mdash;chiefly remnants of
+      shattered armies that, on hearing of the Boy's illness, we
+      had brought from the home playroom he had
+      outgrown&mdash;might be left for him instead of being sent
+      away to be burnt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Boy's bright face dulled. "If it had been anybody else!
+      But, mother, I don't think you know that he is the one French
+      boy we disliked. It was he who always shouted '<i>&agrave;
+      bas les Anglais!</i>' in the playground."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The reflection that for weary weeks this obnoxious boy would
+      be the only inmate of the <i>bo&icirc;te</i>, as the invalids
+      delighted to call their sick-room, overcame his antipathetic
+      feeling, and he softened so far as to indite a polite little
+      French note offering his late enemy his sympathy, and
+      formally bequeathing to him the reversion of his toys,
+      including the <i>arbre de No&euml;l</i> with all its
+      decorations, except the little waxen Jesus nestling in the
+      manger of yellow corn; the Soeur had already declared her
+      intention of preserving that among her treasures.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The time that had opened so gloomily had passed, and now that
+      it was over we could look back upon many happy hours spent
+      within the dingy prison walls. And our thoughts were in
+      unison, for the Boy, abruptly breaking the silence, said:
+      "And after all, it hasn't been such a bad time. Do you know,
+      I really think I've rather enjoyed it!"
+    </p><a name="2H_4_10"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      L'ENVOI
+    </h2><a name="image-53"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx88.png" width="250" height="322" align="left"
+              alt="">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Heavy skies lowered above us, the landscape seen through the
+      driving mist-wreaths showed a depressing repetition of drabs
+      and greys as we journeyed towards Calais. But, snugly
+      ensconced in the <i>train rapide</i>, our hearts beat high
+      with joy, for at last were we homeward bound. The weeks of
+      exile in the stately old town had ended. For the last time
+      the good Sister had lit us down the worn stone steps. As we
+      sped seawards across the bleak country, our thoughts flew
+      back to her, and to the little room with the red cross on its
+      casement, wherein, although our prisoners were released,
+      another term of nursing had already begun for her. In
+      contrast with her life of cheerful self-abnegation, ours
+      seemed selfish, meaningless, and empty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dear nameless Sister! She had been an angel of mercy to us in
+      a troublous time, and though our earthly paths may never
+      again cross, our hearts will ever hold her memory sacred.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <center>
+      <i>By the same Author</i>
+    </center>
+    <h2>
+      OUR STOLEN SUMMER
+    </h2>
+    <center>
+      THE RECORD OF A ROUNDABOUT TOUR<br>
+       BY<br>
+       MARY STUART BOYD<br>
+       WITH ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY SKETCHES BY A.S. BOYD
+    </center>
+    <h3>
+      <i>Extracts from Reviews</i>
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      <b>THE WORLD</b>.&mdash;"To be able to go round the world
+      nowadays, and write a descriptive record of the tour that is
+      vivid and fresh is a positive literary feat. It has been
+      successfully accomplished in <i>Our Stolen Summer</i> by Mrs.
+      Boyd, who with no ulterior object in making a book journeyed
+      over four continents in company with her husband, and picked
+      up <i>en route</i> matter for one of the pleasantest, most
+      humorous, and least pretentious books of travel we have read
+      for many a day. It is admirably illustrated by Mr. A.S. Boyd,
+      whose sense of humour happily matches that of his observant
+      wife, and the reader who can lay aside this picturesque and
+      truly delightful volume without sincere regret must have a
+      dull and dreary mind."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>PUNCH</b>.&mdash;"<i>Our Stolen Summer</i> is calculated
+      to lead to wholesale breakage of the Eighth Commandment.
+      Certainly, my Baronite, reading the fascinating record of a
+      roundabout tour, feels prompted to steal away. Mary Stuart
+      Boyd, who pens the record, has the great advantage of the
+      collaboration of A.S.B., whose signature is familiar in
+      <i>Mr. Punch's</i> Picture Gallery.... A charming book."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>SPECTATOR</b>.&mdash;"The writer, by the help of a ready
+      pen and of the pencil of a skilful illustrator, has given us
+      in this handsome volume a number of attractive pictures of
+      distant places.... It is good to read and pleasant to look
+      at."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>TRUTH</b>.&mdash;"You will find no pleasanter holiday
+      reading than <i>Our Stolen Summer</i>."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>ACADEMY</b>.&mdash;"A fresh record, and worth the reading.
+      Of such is Mrs. Boyd's volume, which her husband has
+      illustrated profusely with spirited line drawings."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>FIELD</b>.&mdash;"One of the brightest books of travel
+      that it has been our good fortune to read. The illustrations
+      deserve a notice to themselves. They are far and away better
+      than those which we usually get in books of this kind, and we
+      do not know that we can bestow higher praise on them than to
+      say that they are worthy of the letterpress which they
+      illustrate."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>LAND AND WATER</b>.&mdash;"A delightful sketch of a
+      delightful journey.... <i>Our Stolen Summer</i> is a book
+      which will be read with equal delight on a lazy summer
+      holiday, or in the heart of London when the streets are
+      enveloped in fog and the rain is beating against the window
+      panes. Mr. Boyd's sketches are simply admirable."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>SPHERE</b>.&mdash;"A delightful record of travel. Mrs.
+      Boyd is never dull, and there is plenty of acute observation
+      throughout her pleasant story of travel. My Boyd's
+      illustrations which appear on practically every page, are, it
+      need scarcely be said, up to the high level that is already
+      familiar to students of his black-and-white work."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>LADIES' FIELD</b>.&mdash;"A singularly delightful and
+      unaffected book of travel."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>MADAME</b>.&mdash;"One of the most delightful books of
+      travel it has been our good fortune to read."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>MORNING POST</b>.&mdash;"If the encouragement of
+      globe-trotting be a virtuous action, then certainly Mrs.
+      Stuart Boyd has deserved well of her country. To read her
+      book is to conceive an insensate desire to be off and away on
+      'the long trail' at all hazards and at all costs.... Mr.
+      Boyd's illustrations add greatly to the interest and charm of
+      the book. There is movement, atmosphere, and sunshine in
+      them."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>STANDARD</b>.&mdash;"Mrs. Boyd went with her husband round
+      the world, and the latter&mdash;an artist with a sense of
+      humour&mdash;kept his hand in practice by making droll
+      sketches of people encountered by the way, which heighten the
+      charm of his wife's vivacious description of a <i>Stolen
+      Summer</i>. Mrs. Boyd has quick eyes and an open mind, and
+      writes with sense and sensibility."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>DAILY TELEGRAPH</b>.&mdash;"It is not so much what Mrs.
+      Boyd has to tell as the invariable good humour and brightness
+      with which she records even the most familiar things that
+      makes the charm of her excellent diary."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>DAILY CHRONICLE</b>.&mdash;"Mrs. Boyd has written the log
+      with sparkle and observation&mdash;seeing many things that
+      the mere man-traveller would miss. Mr. Boyd's sketches are,
+      of course, excellent."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>PALL MALL GAZETTE</b>.&mdash;"Mrs. Boyd writes with so
+      much buoyancy, and her humour is so unexpected and unfailing,
+      that it is safe to say that there is not a dull page from
+      first to last in this record of a tour round the world... Mr.
+      A.S. Boyd's numerous illustrations show him at his very
+      best."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>GLOBE</b>.&mdash;"A work to acquire as well as to peruse."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>WESTMINSTER GAZETTE</b>.&mdash;"The narrative from
+      beginning to end does not contain a dull page. Of Mr. Boyd's
+      numerous sketches it is only necessary to say that they are
+      excellent. Altogether <i>Our Stolen Summer</i> will be found
+      to be one of the most fascinating of recent books of travel."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>SUNDAY TIMES</b>.&mdash;"Brilliantly and entertainingly
+      written, and liberally illustrated by an acknowledged master
+      of the art of black and white."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>SCOTSMAN</b>.&mdash;"A beautiful and fascinating book....
+      Pen and pencil sketches alike have grace, nerve, and humour,
+      and are alive with human interest and observation."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>GLASGOW HERALD</b>.&mdash;"One of the most delightful
+      travel-books of recent times.... Mrs. Boyd's volume must
+      commend itself to people who contemplate visiting the other
+      side of the globe and to all stay-at-home travellers as
+      well."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>DAILY FREE PRESS</b>.&mdash;"Mrs. Boyd is an admirable
+      descriptive writer&mdash;observant, humorous, and
+      sympathetic. Without illustrations, <i>Our Stolen Summer</i>
+      would be a notable addition to the literature of travel; with
+      Mr. Boyd's collaboration it is almost unique."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>LEEDS MERCURY</b>.&mdash;"Vivacious and diverting record."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>YORKSHIRE DAILY POST</b>.&mdash;"For such a book there
+      could be nothing but praise if one wrote columns about it."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>BIRMINGHAM DAILY POST</b>.&mdash;"A singularly happy and
+      interesting record of a most enjoyable tour."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>NORTHERN WHIG</b>.&mdash;"Shrewdness of observation, with
+      not a little humour and a real literary gift, mark the story
+      of <i>Our Stolen Summer</i>."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>THE BOOKMAN</b>.&mdash;"Mrs. Boyd writes with so much
+      brightness, such vivacity and picturesqueness of style, that
+      although the volume runs to close upon four hundred pages
+      there is not a dull page among them. The success of <i>Our
+      Stolen Summer</i>, however, is due as much to the artist as
+      to the author; and praise must be equally divided. Mr. Boyd's
+      sketches are spirited, clever, full of humour and sympathetic
+      observation. Without a word of letter-press they would have
+      formed an excellent travel-book; taken in conjunction with
+      Mrs. Boyd's narrative they are irresistible."
+    </p>
+    <center>
+      LONDON AND EDINBURGH: WILLIAM BLACKWOOD &amp; SONS
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <center>
+      <i><b>Illustrated by A.S. Boyd</b></i>
+    </center>
+    <h2>
+      A LOWDEN SABBATH MORN
+    </h2>
+    <center>
+      BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON<br>
+       WITH TWENTY-SEVEN PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS BY A.S. BOYD
+    </center>
+    <h3>
+      <i>Extracts from Reviews</i>
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      <b>THE TIMES</b>.&mdash;"The characters whom Stevenson had in
+      his mind's eye are all cleverly pictured, and the drawings
+      may be truthfully said to illustrate the writer's
+      ideas&mdash;a quality that seldom resides in
+      illustrations.... All are faithfully presented as only one
+      who has known them intimately could present them.... Mr.
+      Boyd's talent for black-and-white work has never found
+      happier expression."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>MORNING POST</b>.&mdash;"It is impossible to imagine
+      anything more likely to appeal to the sentiment of the
+      Scottish people throughout the world than this series of
+      pictures, instinct with the spirit of their land."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>DAILY TELEGRAPH</b>.&mdash;"One of the happiest
+      combinations of author and artist which has been seen of late
+      years. Mr. Boyd has entered thoroughly into the spirit of the
+      lines, and his figures are instinct with graceful humour."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>DAILY CHRONICLE</b>.&mdash;"Mr. Boyd is to be
+      congratulated (as R. L. S. would assuredly have granted) upon
+      interpreting so vividly a notable feature in the national
+      life of Scotland."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>ATHENAEUM</b>.&mdash;"The task of illustrating Stevenson's
+      verses was most difficult, because it demands from the artist
+      knowledge of local circumstances and characteristic details.
+      Mr. Boyd's success in making us see so plainly the moods and
+      manners of the 'restin' ploughman' while he 'daundered' in
+      his garden and 'raxed his limbs' is the more to be enjoyed
+      and praised."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>PALL MALL GAZETTE</b>.&mdash;"Followers of the master will
+      appreciate this beautiful book for its accurate
+      interpretation of the poem as well as for its excellent
+      drawing."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>ST. JAMES'S GAZETTE</b>.&mdash;"There is plenty of good
+      Scotch character in the illustrations, and a quiet
+      observation of the humours of a parish, with such annals as
+      those recorded by Gait."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>ACADEMY</b>.&mdash;"An attractive book."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>SATURDAY REVIEW</b>.&mdash;"In saying therefore that Mr.
+      Boyd's illustrations&mdash;there is a full page drawing for
+      each verse&mdash;are not only worthy of the poem, but
+      actually emphasise and define its merits, we give the book
+      the highest possible praise. It is a volume which should be
+      added to the library of every collector."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>SPECTATOR</b>.&mdash;"These illustrations to Mr.
+      Stevenson's Scots poem are distinctly clever, especially in
+      their characterisation of the various attendants at the
+      village kirk."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>SPEAKER</b>.&mdash;"The book presents very vividly some of
+      the aspects (both humorous and pathetic) of a Scottish rural
+      lowland parish, and will doubtless touch a chord in the heart
+      of Scotsmen throughout the world."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>OUTLOOK</b>.&mdash;"Many of Mr. Stevenson's admirers the
+      world over have long desired that such a classic poem should
+      be faithfully and adequately illustrated, and they will give
+      a hearty welcome to this most handsome quarto."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>SCOTSMAN</b>.&mdash;"One way and another the book is
+      wholly delightful."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>GLASGOW EVENING NEWS</b>.&mdash;"Mr. Boyd's contributions
+      to a volume which ought to be popular with Scots in every
+      part of the world, are full of pawky humour, and their
+      realism is so pronounced that we seem to have known the
+      models in the life."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>DUNDEE ADVERTISER</b>.&mdash;"This is a volume to be
+      treasured alike for the sake of the poet, of the artist, and
+      of that form of Scottish life which is rapidly disappearing
+      before the march of progress."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>ARBROATH HERALD</b>.&mdash;"Mr. Boyd has represented these
+      pictures in line sketches, which are characterised at once by
+      the strength and confidence of a masterful draughtsman and
+      the insight of a keen observer of character, who has long
+      been familiar with the types presented in Stevenson's poem."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>GOOD WORDS</b>.&mdash;"Mr. Boyd has portrayed, with here
+      and there a happy trait of grace or humour beyond the wording
+      of the text, the very scene and people. Each of the
+      illustrations has a charm and freshness of its own."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>ART JOURNAL</b>.&mdash;"Mr. Boyd's knowledge of Lothian
+      peasants and their manners is as complete as Stevenson's. His
+      drawings place in pictorial view the poet's thoughts, while
+      they greatly enhance the descriptions by emphasising what the
+      writer rightly left vague."
+    </p>
+    <center>
+      LONDON: CHATTO &amp; WINDUS, III St. Martin's Lane
+    </center>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vxinset.png" width="150" height="163" alt="">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's A Versailles Christmas-Tide, by Mary Stuart Boyd
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A VERSAILLES CHRISTMAS-TIDE ***
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+</pre>
+
+  </body>
+</html>
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@@ -0,0 +1,2747 @@
+Project Gutenberg's A Versailles Christmas-Tide, by Mary Stuart Boyd
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Versailles Christmas-Tide
+
+Author: Mary Stuart Boyd
+
+Release Date: January 23, 2004 [EBook #10813]
+[Date last updated: December 22, 2004]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A VERSAILLES CHRISTMAS-TIDE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Karen Robinson, David Garcia and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+A VERSAILLES CHRISTMAS-TIDE
+
+By
+
+Mary Stuart Boyd
+
+With Fifty-three Illustrations by A.S. Boyd
+
+1901
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+     I. The Unexpected Happens
+    II. Ogams
+   III. The Town
+    IV. Our Arbre de Noel
+     V. Le Jour de l'Annee
+    VI. Ice-bound
+   VII. The Haunted Chateau
+  VIII. Marie Antoinette
+    IX. The Prisoners Released
+
+
+
+
+
+Illustrations
+
+The Summons
+Storm Warning
+Treasure Trove
+The Red Cross in the Window
+Enter M. le Docteur
+Perpetual Motion
+Ursa Major
+Meal Considerations
+The Two Colonels
+The Young and Brave
+Malcontent
+The Aristocrat
+Papa, Mama, et Bebe
+Juvenile Progress
+Automoblesse oblige
+Sable Garb
+A Football Team
+Mistress and Maid
+Sage and Onions
+Marketing
+Private Boxes
+A Foraging Party
+A Thriving Merchant
+Chestnuts in the Avenue
+The Tree Vendor
+The Tree Bearer
+Rosine
+Alms and the Lady
+Adoration
+Thankfulness
+One of the Devout
+De l'eau Chaude
+The Mill
+The Presbytery
+To the Place of Rest
+While the Frost Holds
+The Postman's Wrap
+A Lapful of Warmth
+The Daily Round
+Three Babes and a Bonne
+Snow in the Park
+A Veteran of the Chateau
+Un, Deux, Trois
+Bedchamber of Louis XIV
+Marie Leczinska
+Madame Adelaide
+Louis Quatorze
+Where the Queen Played
+Marie Antoinette
+The Secret Stair
+Madame sans Tete
+Illumination
+L'Envoi
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS
+
+
+[Illustration: The Summons]
+
+No project could have been less foreseen than was ours of wintering in
+France, though it must be confessed that for several months our thoughts
+had constantly strayed across the Channel. For the Boy was at school at
+Versailles, banished there by our desire to fulfil a parental duty.
+
+The time of separation had dragged tardily past, until one foggy
+December morning we awoke to the glad consciousness that that very
+evening the Boy would be with us again. Across the breakfast-table we
+kept saying to each other, "It seems scarcely possible that the Boy is
+really coming home to-night," but all the while we hugged the assurance
+that it was.
+
+The Boy is an ordinary snub-nosed, shock-headed urchin of thirteen, with
+no special claim to distinction save the negative one of being an only
+child. Yet without his cheerful presence our home seemed empty and dull.
+Any attempts at merry-making failed to restore its life. Now all was
+agog for his return. The house was in its most festive trim. Christmas
+presents were hidden securely away. There was rejoicing downstairs as
+well as up: the larder shelves were stored with seasonable fare, and
+every bit of copper and brass sparkled a welcome. Even the kitchen cat
+sported a ribbon, and had a specially energetic purr ready.
+
+Into the midst of our happy preparations the bad news fell with
+bomb-like suddenness. The messenger who brought the telegram whistled
+shrilly and shuffled a breakdown on the doorstep while he waited to hear
+if there was an answer.
+
+"He is ill. He can't come. Scarlet fever," one of us said in an odd,
+flat voice.
+
+"Scarlet fever. At school. Oh! when can we go to him? When is there a
+boat?" cried the other.
+
+There was no question of expediency. The Boy lay sick in a foreign land,
+so we went to him. It was full noon when the news came, and nightfall
+saw us dashing through the murk of a wild mid-December night towards
+Dover pier, feeling that only the express speed of the mail train was
+quick enough for us to breathe in.
+
+But even the most apprehensive of journeys may hold its humours. Just at
+the moment of starting anxious friends assisted a young lady into our
+carriage. "She was going to Marseilles. Would we kindly see that she got
+on all right?" We were only going as far as Paris direct. "Well, then,
+as far as Paris. It would be a great favour." So from Charing Cross to
+the Gare du Nord, Placidia, as we christened her, became our care.
+
+She was a large, handsome girl of about three-and-twenty. What was her
+reason for journeying unattended to Cairo we know not. Whether she ever
+reached her destination we are still in doubt, for a more complacently
+incapable damsel never went a-voyaging. The Saracen maiden who followed
+her English lover from the Holy Land by crying "London" and "A Becket"
+was scarce so impotent as Placidia; for any information the Saracen
+maiden had she retained, while Placidia naively admitted that she had
+already forgotten by which line of steamers her passage through the
+Mediterranean had been taken.
+
+Placidia had an irrational way of losing her possessions. While yet on
+her way to the London railway station she had lost her tam-o'-shanter.
+So perforce, she travelled in a large picture-hat which, although pretty
+and becoming, was hardly suitable headgear for channel-crossing in
+mid-winter.
+
+[Illustration: Storm Warning]
+
+It was a wild night; wet, with a rising north-west gale. Tarpaulined
+porters swung themselves on to the carriage-steps as we drew up at Dover
+pier, and warned us not to leave the train, as, owing to the storm, the
+Calais boat would be an hour late in getting alongside.
+
+The Ostend packet, lying beside the quay in full sight of the
+travellers, lurched giddily at her moorings. The fourth occupant of our
+compartment, a sallow man with yellow whiskers, turned green with
+apprehension. Not so Placidia. From amongst her chaotic hand-baggage she
+extracted walnuts and mandarin oranges, and began eating with an
+appetite that was a direct challenge to the Channel. Bravery or
+foolhardiness could go no farther.
+
+Providence tempers the wind to the parents who are shorn of their lamb.
+The tumult of waters left us scatheless, but poor Placidia early paid
+the penalty of her rashness. She "thought" she was a good sailor--though
+she acknowledged that this was her first sea-trip--and elected to remain
+on deck. But before the harbour lights had faded behind us a sympathetic
+mariner supported her limp form--the feathers of her incongruous hat
+drooping in unison with their owner--down the swaying cabin staircase
+and deposited her on a couch.
+
+"Oh! I do wish I hadn't eaten that fruit," she groaned when I offered
+her smelling-salts. "But then, you know, I was so hungry!"
+
+In the _train rapide_ a little later, Placidia, when arranging her wraps
+for the night journey, chanced, among the medley of her belongings, upon
+a missing boat-ticket whose absence at the proper time had threatened
+complications. She burst into good-humoured laughter at the discovery.
+"Why, here's the ticket that man made all the fuss about. I really
+thought he wasn't going to let me land till I found it. Now, I do wonder
+how it got among my rugs?"
+
+We seemed to be awake all night, staring with wide, unseeing eyes out
+into the darkness. Yet the chill before dawn found us blinking sleepily
+at a blue-bloused porter who, throwing open the carriage door, curtly
+announced that we were in Paris.
+
+Then followed a fruitless search for Placidia's luggage, a hunt which
+was closed by Placidia recovering her registration ticket (with a
+fragment of candy adhering to it) from one of the multifarious pockets
+of her ulster, and finding that the luggage had been registered on to
+Marseilles. "Will they charge duty on tobacco?" she inquired blandly, as
+she watched the Customs examination of our things. "I've such a lot of
+cigars in my boxes."
+
+There was an Old-Man-of-the-Sea-like tenacity in Placidia's smiling
+impuissance. She did not know one syllable of French. A new-born babe
+could not have revealed itself more utterly incompetent. I verily
+believe that, despite our haste, we would have ended by escorting
+Placidia across Paris, and ensconcing her in the Marseilles train, had
+not Providence intervened in the person of a kindly disposed polyglot
+traveller. So, leaving Placidia standing the picture of complacent
+fatuosity in the midst of a group consisting of this new champion and
+three porters, we sneaked away.
+
+[Illustration: Treasure Trove]
+
+Grey dawn was breaking as we drove towards St. Lazare Station, and the
+daily life of the city was well begun. Lights were twinkling in the dark
+interiors of the shops. Through the mysterious atmosphere figures loomed
+mistily, then vanished into the gloom. But we got no more than a vague
+impression of our surroundings. Throughout the interminable length of
+drive across the city, and the subsequent slow train journey, our
+thoughts were ever in advance.
+
+The tardy winter daylight had scarcely come before we were jolting in a
+_fiacre_ over the stony streets of Versailles. In the gutters, crones
+were eagerly rummaging among the dust heaps that awaited removal. In
+France no degradation attaches to open economies. Housewives on their
+way to fetch Gargantuan loaves or tiny bottles of milk for the matutinal
+_cafe-au-lait_ cast searching glances as they passed, to see if among
+the rubbish something of use to them might not be lurking. And at one
+alluring mound an old gentleman of absurdly respectable exterior
+perfunctorily turned over the scraps with the point of his cane.
+
+We had heard of a hotel, and the first thing we saw of it we liked. That
+was a pair of sabots on the mat at the foot of the staircase. Pausing
+only to remove the dust of travel, we set off to visit our son, walking
+with timorous haste along the grand old avenue where the school was
+situated. A little casement window to the left of the wide entrance-door
+showed a red cross. We looked at it silently, wondering.
+
+[Illustration: The Red Cross in the Window]
+
+In response to our ring the portal opened mysteriously at touch of the
+unseen concierge, and we entered. A conference with Monsieur le
+Directeur, kindly, voluble, tactfully complimentary regarding our
+halting French, followed. The interview over, we crossed the courtyard
+our hearts beating quickly. At the top of a little flight of worn stone
+steps was the door of the school hospital, and under the ivy-twined
+trellis stood a sweet-faced Franciscan Soeur, waiting to welcome us.
+
+[Illustration: Enter M. Le Docteur]
+
+Passing through a tiny outer room--an odd combination of dispensary,
+kitchen, and drawing-room with a red-tiled floor--we reached the
+sick-chamber, and saw the Boy. A young compatriot, also a victim of the
+disease, occupied another bed, but for the first moments we were
+oblivious of his presence. Raising his fever-flushed face from the
+pillows, the Boy eagerly stretched out his burning hands.
+
+"I heard your voices," his hoarse voice murmured contentedly, "and I
+knew _you_ couldn't be ghosts." Poor child! in the semidarkness of the
+lonely night-hours phantom voices had haunted him. We of the morning
+were real.
+
+The good Soeur buzzed a mild frenzy of "Il ne faut pas toucher" about
+our ears, but, all unheeding, we clasped the hot hands and crooned over
+him. After the dreary months of separation, love overruled wisdom. Mere
+prudence was not strong enough to keep us apart.
+
+Chief amongst the chaos of thoughts that had assailed us on the
+reception of the bad news, was the necessity of engaging an English
+medical man. But at the first sight of the French doctor, as, clad in a
+long overall of white cotton, he entered the sick-room, our insular
+prejudice vanished, ousted by complete confidence; a confidence that our
+future experience of his professional skill and personal kindliness only
+strengthened.
+
+It was with sore hearts that, the prescribed _cinq minutes_ ended, we
+descended the little outside stair. Still, we had seen the Boy; and
+though we could not nurse him, we were not forbidden to visit him. So we
+were thankful too.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+OGAMS
+
+
+[Illustration: Perpetual Motion]
+
+Our hotel was distinctively French, and immensely comfortable, in that
+it had gleaned, and still retained, the creature comforts of a century
+or two. Thus it combined the luxuries of hot-air radiators and electric
+light with the enchantment of open wood fires. Viewed externally, the
+building presented that airy aspect almost universal in Versailles
+architecture. It was white-tinted, with many windows shuttered without
+and heavily lace-draped within.
+
+A wide entrance led to the inner courtyard, where orange trees in green
+tubs, and trelliswork with shrivelled stems and leaves still adhering,
+suggested that it would be a pleasant summer lounge. Our hotel boasted a
+_grand salon_, which opened from the courtyard. It was an elaborately
+ornate room; but on a chilly December day even a plethora of
+embellishment cannot be trusted to raise by a single degree the
+temperature of the apartment it adorns, and the soul turns from a cold
+hearth, however radiant its garnish of artificial blossoms. A private
+parlour was scarcely necessary, for, with most French bedrooms, ours
+shared the composite nature of the accommodation known in a certain
+class of advertisement as "bed-sitting-room." So it was that during
+these winter days we made ourselves at home in our chamber.
+
+The shape of the room was a geometrical problem. The three windows each
+revealed different views, and the remainder of the walls curved
+amazingly. At first sight the furniture consisted mainly of draperies
+and looking-glass; for the room, though of ordinary dimensions, owned
+three large mirrors and nine pairs of curtains. A stately bed, endowed
+with a huge square down pillow, which served as quilt, stood in a
+corner. Two armchairs in brocaded velvet and a centre table were
+additions to the customary articles. A handsome timepiece and a
+quartette of begilt candelabra decked the white marble mantelpiece, and
+were duplicated in the large pier glass. The floor was of well-polished
+wood, a strip of bright-hued carpet before the bed, a second before the
+washstand, its only coverings. Need I say that the provision for
+ablutions was one basin and a liliputian ewer, and that there was not a
+fixed bath in the establishment?
+
+It was a resting-place full of incongruities; but apart from, or perhaps
+because of, its oddities it had a cosy attractiveness. From the moment
+of our entrance we felt at home. I think the logs that purred and
+crackled on the hearth had much to do with its air of welcome. There is
+a sense of companionship about a wood fire that more enduring coal
+lacks. Like a delicate child, the very care it demands nurtures your
+affection. There was something delightfully foreign and picturesque to
+our town ideas in the heap of logs that Karl carried up in a great
+_panier_ and piled at the side of the hearth. Even the little faggots of
+kindling wood, willow-knotted and with the dry copper-tinted leaves
+still clinging to the twigs, had a rustic charm.
+
+These were pleasant moments when, ascending from the chill outer air, we
+found our chamber aglow with ruddy firelight that glinted in the mirrors
+and sparkled on the shining surface of the polished floor; when we drew
+our chairs up to the hearth, and, scorning the electric light, revelled
+in the beauty of the leaping and darting flames.
+
+It was only in the _salle-a-manger_ that we saw the other occupants of
+the hotel; and when we learned that several of them had lived _en
+pension_ under the roof of the assiduous proprietor for periods varying
+from five to seven years, we felt ephemeral, mere creatures of a moment,
+and wholly unworthy of regard.
+
+[Illustration: Ursa Major]
+
+At eight o'clock Karl brought the _petit dejeuner_ of coffee and rolls
+to our room. At eleven, our morning visit to the school hospital over,
+we breakfasted in the _salle-a-manger_, a large bright room, one or
+other of whose many south windows had almost daily, even in the depth of
+winter, to be shaded against the rays of the sun. Three chandeliers of
+glittering crystal starred with electric lights depended from the
+ceiling. Half a dozen small tables stood down each side; four larger
+ones occupied the centre of the floor, and were reserved for transient
+custom.
+
+The first thing that struck us as peculiar was that every table save
+ours was laid for a single person, with a half bottle of wine, red or
+white, placed ready, in accordance with the known preference of the
+expected guest. We soon gathered that several of the regular customers
+lodged outside and, according to the French fashion, visited the hotel
+for meals only. After the early days of keen anxiety regarding our
+invalid had passed, we began to study our fellow guests individually and
+to note their idiosyncrasies. Sitting at our allotted table during the
+progress of the leisurely meals, we used to watch as one _habitue_ after
+another entered, and, hanging coat and hat upon certain pegs, sat
+silently down in his accustomed place, with an unvarying air of calm
+deliberation.
+
+Then Iorson, the swift-footed _garcon_, would skim over the polished
+boards to the newcomer, and, tendering the menu, would wait, pencil in
+hand, until the guest, after careful contemplation, selected his five
+_plats_ from its comprehensive list.
+
+[Illustration: Meal Considerations]
+
+The most picturesque man of the company had white moustaches of
+surprising length. On cold days he appeared enveloped in a fur coat, a
+garment of shaggy brown which, in conjunction with his hirsute
+countenance, made his aspect suggest the hero in pantomime renderings of
+"Beauty and the Beast." But in our hotel there was no Beauty, unless
+indeed it were Yvette, and Yvette could hardly be termed beautiful.
+
+Yvette also lived outside. She did not come to _dejeuner_, but every
+night precisely at a quarter-past seven the farther door would open, and
+Yvette, her face expressing disgust with the world and all the things
+thereof, would enter.
+
+Yvette was blonde, with neat little features, a pale complexion, and
+tiny hands that were always ringless. She rang the changes on half a
+dozen handsome cloaks of different degrees of warmth. To an intelligent
+observer their wear might have served as a thermometer. Yvette was
+_blasee_, and her millinery was in sympathy with her feelings. Her hats
+had all a fringe of disconsolate feathers, whose melancholy plumage
+emphasised the downward curve of her mouth. To see Yvette enter from the
+darkness and, seating herself at her solitary table, droop over her
+plate as though there were nothing in Versailles worth sitting upright
+for, was to view _ennui_ personified.
+
+Yvette invariably drank white wine, and the food rarely pleased her. She
+would cast a contemptuous look over the menu offered by the deferential
+Henri, then turn wearily away, esteeming that no item on its length
+merited even her most perfunctory consideration. But after one or two
+despondent glances, Yvette ever made the best of a bad bargain, and
+ordered quite a comprehensive little dinner, which she ate with the same
+air of utter disdain. She always concluded by eating an orange dipped in
+sugar. Even had a special table not been reserved for her, one could
+have told where Yvette had dined by the bowl of powdered sugar, just as
+one could have located the man with the fierce moustaches and the fur
+coat by the presence of his pepper-mill, or the place of "Madame" from
+her prodigal habit of rending a quarter-yard of the crusty French bread
+in twain and consuming only the soft inside.
+
+From the ignorance of our cursory acquaintance we had judged the French
+a sociable nation. Our stay at Versailles speedily convinced us of the
+fallacy of that belief. Nothing could have impressed us so forcibly as
+did the frigid silence that characterised the company. Many of them had
+fed there daily for years, yet within the walls of the sunny dining-room
+none exchanged even a salutation. This unexpected taciturnity in a
+people whom we had been taught to regard as lively and voluble made us
+almost ashamed of our own garrulity, and when, in the presence of the
+silent company, we were tempted to exchange remarks, we found ourselves
+doing it in hushed voices as though we were in church.
+
+A clearer knowledge, however, showed us that though some unspoken
+convention rendered the hotel guests oblivious of each other's presence
+while indoors, beyond the hotel walls they might hold communion. Two
+retired military men, both wearing the red ribbon of the Legion of
+Honour, as indeed did most of our _habitues_, sat at adjacent tables.
+One, tall and thin, was a Colonel; the other, little and neat, a Colonel
+also. To the casual gaze they appeared complete strangers, and we had
+consumed many meals in their society before observing that whenever the
+tall Colonel had sucked the last cerise from his glass of _eau-de-vie_,
+and begun to fold his napkin--a formidable task, for the serviettes
+fully deserved the designation later bestowed on them by the Boy, of
+"young table-cloths"--the little Colonel made haste to fold his also.
+Both rose from their chairs at the same instant, and the twain, having
+received their hats from the attentive Iorson, vanished, still mute,
+into the darkness together.
+
+[Illustration: The Two Colonels]
+
+Once, to our consternation, the little Colonel replaced his napkin in
+its ring without waiting for the signal from the tall Colonel. But our
+apprehension that they, in their dealings in that mysterious outer world
+which twice daily they sought together, might have fallen into a
+difference of opinion was dispelled by the little Colonel, who had
+risen, stepping to his friend and holding out his hand. This the tall
+Colonel without withdrawing his eyes from _Le Journal des Debats_ which
+he was reading, silently pressed. Then, still without a word spoken or a
+look exchanged, the little Colonel passed out alone.
+
+[Illustration: The Young and Brave]
+
+The average age of the Ogams was seventy. True, there was Dunois the
+Young and Brave, who could not have been more than forty-five. What his
+name really was we knew not, but something in his comparatively juvenile
+appearance among the chevaliers suggested the appellation which for lack
+of a better we retained. Dunois' youth might only be comparative, but
+his bravery was indubitable; for who among the Ogams but he was daring
+enough to tackle the _pate-de-foie-gras_, or the _abattis_, a stew
+composed of the gizzards and livers of fowls? And who but Dunois would
+have been so reckless as to follow baked mussels and _crepinettes_ with
+_rognons frits_?
+
+Dunois, too, revealed intrepid leanings toward strange liquors.
+Sometimes--it was usually at _dejeuner_ when he had dined out on the
+previous evening--he would demand the wine-list of Iorson, and rejecting
+the _vin blanc_ or _vin rouge_ which, being _compris_, contented the
+others, would order himself something of a choice brand. One of his
+favourite papers was _Le Rire_, and Henri, Iorson's youthful assistant,
+regarded him with admiration.
+
+[Illustration: Malcontent]
+
+A less attractive presence in the dining-room was Madame. Madame, who
+was an elderly dame of elephantine girth, had resided in the hotel for
+half a dozen years, during which period her sole exercise had been taken
+in slowly descending from her chamber in the upper regions for her
+meals, and then, leisurely assimilation completed, in yet more slowly
+ascending. Madame's allotted seat was placed in close proximity to the
+hot-air register; and though Madame was usually one of the first to
+enter the dining-room, she was generally the last to leave. Madame's
+appetite was as animated as her body was lethargic. She always drank her
+half-bottle of red wine to the dregs, and she invariably concluded with
+a greengage in brandy. So it was small marvel that, when at last she
+left her chair to "tortoise" upstairs, her complexion should be two
+shades darker than when she descended.
+
+Five dishes, irrespective of _hors d'oeuvres_ at luncheon, and _potage_
+at dinner, were allowed each guest, and Madame's selection was an affair
+of time. Our hotel was justly noted for its _cuisine_, yet on infrequent
+occasions the food supplied to Madame was not to her mind. At these
+times the whole establishment suffered until the irascible old lady's
+taste was suited. One night at dinner Iorson had the misfortune to serve
+Madame with some turkey that failed to meet with her approval. With the
+air of an insulted empress, Madame ordered its removal. The conciliatory
+Iorson obediently carried off the dish and speedily returned, bearing
+what professed to be another portion. But from the glimpse we got as it
+passed our table we had a shrewd suspicion that Iorson the wily had
+merely turned over the piece of turkey and re-served it with a little
+more gravy and an additional dressing of _cressons_. Madame, it
+transpired, shared our suspicions, for this portion also she declined,
+with renewed indignation. Then followed a long period of waiting,
+wherein Madame, fidgeting restlessly on her seat, kept fierce eyes fixed
+on the door through which the viands entered.
+
+Just as her impatience threatened to vent itself in action, Iorson
+appeared bearing a third helping of turkey. Placing it before the irate
+lady, he fled as though determined to debar a third repudiation. For a
+moment an air of triumph pervaded Madame's features. Then she began to
+gesticulate violently, with the evident intention of again attracting
+Iorson's notice. But the forbearance even of the diplomatic Iorson was
+at an end. Re-doubling his attentions to the diners at the farther side
+of the room, he remained resolutely unconscious of Madame's signals,
+which were rapidly becoming frantic.
+
+The less sophisticated Henri, however, feeling a boyish interest in the
+little comedy, could not resist a curious glance in Madame's direction.
+That was sufficient. Waving imperiously, Madame compelled his approach,
+and, moving reluctantly, fearful of the issue, Henri advanced.
+
+"Couteau!" hissed Madame. Henri flew to fetch the desired implement,
+and, realising that Madame had at last been satisfied, we again breathed
+freely.
+
+A more attractive personage was a typical old aristocrat, officer of the
+Legion of Honour, who used to enter, walk with great dignity to his
+table, eat sparingly of one or two dishes, drink a glass of his _vin
+ordinaire_ and retire. Sometimes he was accompanied by a tiny spaniel,
+which occupied a chair beside him; and frequently a middle-aged son,
+whose bourgeois appearance was in amazing contrast to that of his
+refined old father, attended him.
+
+[Illustration: The Aristocrat]
+
+There were others, less interesting perhaps, but equally self-absorbed.
+One afternoon, entering the cable car that runs--for fun, apparently, as
+it rarely boasted a passenger--to and from the Trianon, we recognised in
+its sole occupant an Ogam who during the weeks of our stay had eaten, in
+evident oblivion of his human surroundings, at the table next to ours.
+Forgetting that we were without the walls of silence, we expected no
+greeting; but to our amazement he rose, and, placing himself opposite
+us, conversed affably and in most excellent English for the rest of the
+journey. To speak with him was to discover a courteous and travelled
+gentleman. Yet during our stay in Versailles we never knew him exchange
+even a bow with any of his fellow Ogams, who were men of like
+qualifications, though, as he told us, he had taken his meals in the
+hotel for over five years.
+
+Early in the year our peace was rudely broken by the advent of a
+commercial man--a short, grey-haired being of an activity so foreign to
+our usage that a feeling of unrest was imparted to the _salle-a-manger_
+throughout his stay. His movements were distractingly erratic. In his
+opinion, meals were things to be treated casually, to be consumed
+haphazard at any hour that chanced to suit. He did not enter the
+dining-room at the exact moment each day as did the Ogams. He would rush
+in, throw his hat on a peg, devour some food with unseemly haste, and
+depart in less time than it took the others to reach the _legumes_.
+
+[Illustration: Papa, Mama et Bebe]
+
+He was hospitable too, and had a disconcerting way of inviting guests to
+luncheon or dinner, and then forgetting that he had done so. One morning
+a stranger entered, and after a brief conference with Iorson, was
+conducted to the commercial man's table to await his arrival. The
+regular customers took their wonted places, and began in their leisurely
+fashion to breakfast, and still the visitor sat alone, starting up
+expectantly every time a door opened, then despondently resuming his
+seat.
+
+At last Iorson, taking compassion, urged the neglected guest to while
+away his period of waiting by trifling with the _hors-d'oeuvres_. He was
+proceeding to allay the pangs of hunger with selections from the tray of
+anchovies, sardines, pickled beet, and sliced sausage, when his host
+entered, voluble and irrepressible as ever. The dignified Ogams
+shuddered inwardly as his strident voice awoke the echoes of the room,
+and their already stiff limbs became rigid with disapproval.
+
+In winter, transient visitors but rarely occupied one or other of the
+square centre tables, though not infrequently a proud father and mother
+who had come to visit a soldier son at the barracks, brought him to the
+hotel for a meal, and for a space the radiance of blue and scarlet and
+the glint of steel cast a military glamour over the staid company.
+
+An amusing little circumstance to us onlookers was that although the
+supply of cooked food seemed equal to any demand, the arrival of even a
+trio of unexpected guests to dinner invariably caused a dearth of bread.
+For on their advent Iorson would dash out bareheaded into the night, to
+reappear in an incredibly short time carrying a loaf nearly as tall as
+himself.
+
+One morning a stalwart young Briton brought to breakfast a pretty
+English cousin, on leave of absence from her boarding-school. His
+knowledge of French was limited. When anything was wanted he shouted
+"Garcon!" in a lordly voice, but it was the pretty cousin who gave the
+order. _Dejeuner_ over, they departed in the direction of the Chateau.
+And at sunset as we chanced to stroll along the Boulevard de la Reine,
+we saw the pretty cousin, all the gaiety fled from her face, bidding her
+escort farewell at the gate of a Pension pour Demoiselles. The ball was
+over. Poor little Cinderella was perforce returning to the dust and
+ashes of learning.
+
+[Illustration: Juvenile Progress]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE TOWN
+
+
+The English-speaking traveller finds Versailles vastly more foreign than
+the Antipodes. He may voyage for many weeks, and at each distant
+stopping-place find his own tongue spoken around him, and his
+conventions governing society. But let him leave London one night, cross
+the Channel at its narrowest--and most turbulent--and sunrise will find
+him an alien in a land whose denizens differ from him in language,
+temperament, dress, food, manners, and customs.
+
+Of a former visit to Versailles we had retained little more than the
+usual tourist's recollection of a hurried run through a palace of
+fatiguing magnificence, a confusing peep at the Trianons, a glance
+around the gorgeous state equipages, an unsatisfactory meal at one of
+the open-air _cafes_, and a scamper back to Paris. But our winter
+residence in the quaint old town revealed to us the existence of a life
+that is all its own--a life widely variant, in its calm repose, from the
+bustle and gaiety of the capital, but one that is replete with charm,
+and abounding in picturesque-interest.
+
+[Illustration: Automoblesse Oblige]
+
+Versailles is not ancient; it is old, completely old. Since the fall of
+the Second Empire it has stood still. Most of the clocks have run down,
+as though they realised the futility of trying to keep pace with the
+rest of the world. The future merges into the present, the present fades
+into the past, and still the clocks of Versailles point to the same long
+eventide.
+
+[Illustration: Sable Garb]
+
+The proximity of Paris is evinced only by the vividly tinted automobiles
+that make Versailles their goal. Even they rarely tarry in the old town,
+but, turning at the Chateau gates, lose no time in retracing their
+impetuous flight towards a city whose usages accord better with their
+creed of feverish hurry-scurry than do the conventions of reposeful
+Versailles. And these fiery chariots of modernity, with their ghoulish,
+fur-garbed, and hideously spectacled occupants, once their raucous,
+cigale-like birr-r-r has died away in the distance, leave infinitely
+less impression on the placid life of Versailles than do their wheels on
+the roads they traverse. Under the grand trees of the wide avenues the
+townsfolk move quietly about, busying themselves with their own affairs
+and practising their little economies as they have been doing any time
+during the last century.
+
+Perhaps it was the emphatic and demonstrative nature of the mourning
+worn that gave us the idea that the better-class female population of
+Versailles consisted chiefly of widows. When walking abroad we seemed
+incessantly to encounter widows: widows young and old, from the aged to
+the absurdly immature. It was only after a period of bewilderment that
+it dawned upon us that the sepulchral garb and heavy crape veils
+reaching from head to heel were not necessarily the emblems of
+widowhood, but might signify some state of minor bereavement. In Britain
+a display of black such as is an everyday sight at Versailles is
+undreamt of, and one saw more crape veils in a day in Versailles than in
+London in a week. Little girls, though their legs might be uncovered,
+had their chubby features shrouded in disfiguring gauze and to our
+unaccustomed foreign eyes a genuine widow represented nothing more
+shapely than a more or less stubby pillar festooned with crape.
+
+But for an inborn conviction that a frugal race like the French would
+not invest in a plethora of mourning garb only to cast it aside after a
+few months' wear, and that therefore the period of wearing the willow
+must be greatly protracted, we would have been haunted by the idea that
+the adult male mortality of Versailles was enormous.
+
+"Do they wear such deep mourning for all relatives?" I asked our hotel
+proprietor, who had just told us that during the first month of mourning
+the disguising veils were worn over the faces.
+
+Monsieur shook his sleek head gravely, "But no, Madame, not for all. For
+a husband, yes; for a father or mother, yes; for a sister or brother, an
+uncle or aunt, yes; but for a cousin, _no_."
+
+He pronounced the _no_ so emphatically as almost to convince us of his
+belief that in refusing to mourn in the most lugubrious degree for
+cousins the Versaillese acted with praiseworthy self-denial.
+
+There seemed to be no medium between sackcloth and gala-dress. We seldom
+noted the customary degrees of half-mourning. Plain colours were
+evidently unpopular and fancy tartans of the most flamboyant hues
+predominated amongst those who, during a spell of, say, three years had
+been fortunate enough not to lose a parent, sister, brother, uncle, or
+aunt. A perfectly natural reaction appeared to urge the _ci-devant_
+mourners to robe themselves in lively checks and tartans. It was as
+though they said--"Here at last is our opportunity for gratifying our
+natural taste in colours. It will probably be of but short duration.
+Therefore let us select a combination of all the most brilliant tints
+and wear them, for who knows how soon that gruesome pall of woe may
+again enshroud us."
+
+Probably it was the vicinity of our hotel to the Church of Notre Dame
+that, until we discovered its brighter side, led us to esteem Versailles
+a veritable city of the dead, for on our bi-daily walks to visit the
+invalids we were almost certain to encounter a funeral procession either
+approaching or leaving Notre Dame. And on but rare occasions was the
+great central door undraped with the sepulchral insignia which
+proclaimed that a Mass for the dead was in prospect or in progress.
+Sometimes the sable valance and portieres were heavily trimmed and
+fringed with silver; at others there was only the scantiest display of
+time-worn black cloth.
+
+[Illustration: A Football Team]
+
+The humblest funeral was affecting and impressive. As the sad little
+procession moved along the streets--the wayfarers reverently uncovering
+and soldiers saluting as it passed--the dirge-like chant of the
+_Miserere_ never failed to fill my eyes with unbidden tears of sympathy
+for the mourners, who, with bowed heads, walked behind the wreath-laden
+hearse.
+
+Despite the abundant emblems of woe, Versailles can never appear other
+than bright and attractive. Even in mid-winter the skies were clear, and
+on the shortest days the sun seldom forgot to cast a warm glow over the
+gay, white-painted houses. And though the women's dress tends towards
+depression, the brilliant military uniforms make amends. There are
+12,000 soldiers stationed in Versailles; and where a fifth of the
+population is gorgeous in scarlet and blue and gold, no town can be
+accused of lacking colour.
+
+Next to the redundant manifestations of grief, the thing that most
+impressed us was the rigid economy practised in even the smallest
+details of expenditure. Among the lower classes there is none of that
+aping of fashion so prevalent in prodigal England; the different social
+grades have each a distinctive dress and are content to wear it. Among
+the men, blouses of stout blue cotton and sabots are common. Sometimes
+velveteen trousers, whose original tint years of wear have toned to some
+exquisite shade of heliotrope, and a russet coat worn with a fur cap and
+red neckerchief, compose an effect that for harmonious colouring would
+be hard to beat. The female of his species, as is the case in all
+natural animals, is content to be less adorned. Her skirt is black, her
+apron blue. While she is young, her neatly dressed hair, even in the
+coldest weather, is guiltless of covering. As her years increase she
+takes her choice of three head-dresses, and to shelter her grey locks
+selects either a black knitted hood, a checked cotton handkerchief, or a
+white cap of ridiculously unbecoming design.
+
+No French workaday father need fear that his earnings will be squandered
+on such perishable adornments as feathers, artificial flowers, or
+ribbons. The purchases of his spouse are certain to be governed by
+extreme frugality. She selects the family raiment with a view to
+durability. Flimsy finery that the sun would fade, shoddy materials that
+a shower of rain would ruin, offer no temptations to her. When she
+expends a few _sous_ on the cutting of her boy's hair, she has it
+cropped until his cranium resembles the soft, furry skin of a mole, thus
+rendering further outlay in this respect unlikely for months. And when
+she buys a flannel shirt, a six-inch strip of the stuff, for future
+mending, is always included in the price.
+
+But with all this economy there is an air of comfort, a complete absence
+of squalor. In cold weather the school-girls wear snug hoods, or little
+fur turbans; and boys have the picturesque and almost indestructible
+berets of cloth or corduroy. Cloth boots that will conveniently slip
+inside sabots for outdoor use are greatly in vogue, and the comfortable
+Capuchin cloaks--whose peaked hood can be drawn over the head, thus
+obviating the use of umbrellas--are favoured by both sexes and all ages.
+
+[Illustration: Mistress and Maid]
+
+As may be imagined, little is spent on luxuries. Vendors of frivolities
+know better than to waste time tempting those provident people. On one
+occasion only did I see money parted with lightly, and in that case the
+bargain appeared astounding. One Sunday morning an enterprising huckster
+of gimcrack jewellery, venturing out from Paris, had set down his strong
+box on the verge of the market square, and, displaying to the admiring
+eyes of the country folks, ladies' and gentlemen's watches with chains
+complete, in the most dazzling of aureate metal, sold them at six sous
+apiece as quickly as he could hand them out.
+
+Living is comparatively cheap in Versailles; though, as in all places
+where the cost of existence is low, it must be hard to earn a livelihood
+there. By far the larger proportion of the community reside in flats,
+which can be rented at sums that rise in accordance with the
+accommodation but are in all cases moderate. Housekeeping in a flat,
+should the owner so will it, is ever conducive to economy, and life in a
+French provincial town is simple and unconventional.
+
+[Illustration: Sage and Onions]
+
+Bread, wine, and vegetables, the staple foods of the nation, are good
+and inexpensive. For 40 centimes one may purchase a bottle of _vin de
+gard_, a thin tipple, doubtless; but what kind of claret could one buy
+for fourpence a quart at home? _Graves_ I have seen priced at 50
+centimes, _Barsac_ at 60, and _eau de vie_ is plentiful at 1 franc 20!
+
+Fish are scarce, and beef is supposed to be dear; but when butter, eggs,
+and cheese bulk so largely in the diet, the half chicken, the scrap of
+tripe, the slice of garlic sausage, the tiny cut of beef for the
+_ragout_, cannot be heavy items. Everything eatable is utilised, and
+many weird edibles are sold; for the French can contrive tasty dishes
+out of what in Britain would be thrown aside as offal.
+
+On three mornings a week--Sunday, Tuesday, and Friday--the presence of
+the open-air market rouses Versailles from her dormouse-like slumber and
+galvanises her into a state of activity that lasts for several hours.
+Long before dawn, the roads leading townwards are busy with all manner
+of vehicles, from the great waggon drawn by four white horses driven
+tandem, and laden with a moving stack of hay, to the ramshackle
+donkey-cart conveying half a score of cabbages, a heap of dandelions
+grubbed from the meadows, and the owner.
+
+[Illustration: Marketing]
+
+By daybreak the market square under the leafless trees presents a lively
+scene. There are stalls sacred to poultry, to butter, eggs, and cheese;
+but the vegetable kingdom predominates. Flanked by bulwarks of greens
+and bundles of leeks of incredible whiteness and thickness of stem, sit
+the saleswomen, their heads swathed in gay cotton kerchiefs, and the
+ground before them temptingly spread with little heaps of corn salad, of
+chicory, and of yellow endive placed in adorable contrast to the scarlet
+carrots, blood-red beetroot, pinky-fawn onions, and glorious orange-hued
+pumpkins; while ready to hand are measures of white or mottled haricot
+beans, of miniature Brussels sprouts, and of pink or yellow potatoes, an
+esculent that in France occupies a very unimportant place compared with
+that it holds amongst the lower classes in Britain.
+
+[Illustration: Private Boxes]
+
+In Versailles Madame does her own marketing, her maid--in sabots and
+neat but usually hideous cap--accompanying her, basket laden. From stall
+to stall Madame passes, buying a roll of creamy butter wrapped in fresh
+leaves here, a fowl there, some eggs from the wrinkled old dame who
+looks so swart and witch-like in contrast to her stock of milk-white
+eggs.
+
+Madame makes her purchases judiciously--time is not a valuable commodity
+in Versailles--and finishes, when the huge black basket is getting heavy
+even for the strong arms of the squat little maid, by buying a mess of
+cooked spinach from the pretty girl whose red hood makes a happy spot of
+colour among the surrounding greenery, and a measure of onions from the
+profound-looking sage who garners a winter livelihood from the summer
+produce of his fields.
+
+[Illustration: A Foraging Party]
+
+Relations with uncooked food are, in Versailles, distinguished by an
+unwonted intimacy. No one, however dignified his station or appearance,
+is ashamed of purchasing the materials for his dinner in the open
+market, or of carrying them home exposed to the view of the world
+through the transpicuous meshes of a string bag. The portly gentleman
+with the fur coat and waxed moustaches, who looks a general at least,
+and is probably a tram-car conductor, bears his bunch of turnips with an
+air that dignifies the office, just as the young sub-lieutenant in the
+light blue cloak and red cap and trousers carries his mother's apples
+and lettuces without a thought of shame. And it is easy to guess the
+nature of the _dejeuner_ of this _simple soldat_ from the long loaf, the
+bottle of _vin ordinaire_, and the onions that form the contents of his
+net. In the street it was a common occurrence to encounter some
+non-commissioned officer who, entrusted with the catering for his mess,
+did his marketing accompanied by two underlings, who bore between them
+the great open basket destined to hold his purchases.
+
+[Illustration: A Thriving Merchant]
+
+A picturesque appearance among the hucksters of the market square is the
+_boite de carton_ seller. Blue-bloused, with his stock of lavender or
+brown bandboxes strapped in a cardboard Tower of Pisa on his back, he
+parades along, his wares finding ready sale; for his visits are
+infrequent, and if one does not purchase at the moment, as does Madame,
+the opportunity is gone.
+
+The spirit of camaraderie is strong amongst the good folks of the
+market. One morning the Artist had paused a moment to make a rough
+sketch of a plump, affable man who, shadowed by the green cotton awning
+of his stall, was selling segments of round flat cheeses of goat's milk;
+vile-smelling compounds that, judged from their outer coating of
+withered leaves, straw, and dirt, would appear to have been made in a
+stable and dried on a rubbish heap. The subject of the jotting, busy
+with his customers, was all unconscious; but an old crone who sat, her
+feet resting on a tiny charcoal stove, amidst a circle of decadent
+greens, detecting the Artist's action, became excited, and after eyeing
+him uneasily for a moment, confided her suspicions as to his ulterior
+motive to a round-faced young countryman who retailed flowers close by.
+He, recognising us as customers--even then we were laden with his
+violets and mimosa--merely smiled at her concern. But his apathy only
+served to heighten Madame's agitation. She was unwilling to leave her
+snug seat yet felt that her imperative duty lay in acquainting Monsieur
+du Fromage with the inexplicable behaviour of the inquisitive foreigner.
+But the nefarious deed was already accomplished, and as we moved away
+our last glimpse was of the little stove standing deserted, while Madame
+hastened across the street in her clattering sabots to warn her friend.
+
+The bustle of the market is soon ended. By ten o'clock the piles of
+vegetables are sensibly diminished. By half-past ten the white-capped
+maid-servants have carried the heavy baskets home, and are busy
+preparing lunch. At eleven o'clock the sharp boy whose stock-in-trade
+consisted of three trays of snails stuffed _a la_ Bourgogne has sold all
+the large ones at 45 centimes a dozen, all the small at 25, and quite
+two-thirds of the medium-sized at 35 centimes.
+
+The clock points to eleven. The sun is high now. The vendors awaken to
+the consciousness of hunger, and Madame of the _pommes frites_ stall,
+whose assistant dexterously cuts the peeled tubers into strips, is fully
+occupied in draining the crisp golden shreds from the boiling fat and
+handing them over, well sprinkled with salt and pepper, to avid
+customers, who devour them smoking hot, direct from their paper
+cornucopias.
+
+Long before the first gloom of the early mid-winter dusk, all has been
+cleared away. The rickety stalls have been demolished; the unsold
+remainder of the goods disposed of; the worthy country folks, their
+pockets heavy with _sous_, are well on their journey homewards, and only
+a litter of straw, of cabbage leaves and leek tops remains as evidence
+of the lively market of the morning.
+
+[Illustration: Chestnuts in the Avenue]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+OUR ARBRE DE NOEL
+
+
+We bought it on the Sunday morning from old Grand'mere Gomard in the
+Avenue de St. Cloud.
+
+It was not a noble specimen of a Christmas-tree. Looked at with cold,
+unimaginative eyes, it might have been considered lopsided; undersized
+it undoubtedly was. Yet a pathetic familiarity in the desolate aspect of
+the little tree aroused our sympathy as no rare horticultural trophy
+ever could.
+
+Some Christmas fairy must have whispered to Grand'mere to grub up the
+tiny tree and to include it in the stock she was taking into Versailles
+on the market morning. For there it was, its roots stuck securely into a
+big pot, looking like some forlorn forest bantling among the garden
+plants.
+
+[Illustration: The Tree Vendor]
+
+Grand'mere Gomard had established herself in a cosy nook at the foot of
+one of the great leafless trees of the Avenue. Straw hurdles were
+cunningly arranged to form three sides of a square, in whose midst she
+was seated on a rush-bottomed chair, like a queen on a humble throne.
+Her head was bound by a gaily striped kerchief, and her feet rested
+snugly on a charcoal stove. Her merchandise, which consisted of half a
+dozen pots of pink and white primulas, a few spotted or crimson
+cyclamen, sundry lettuce and cauliflower plants, and some roots of
+pansies and daisies, was grouped around her.
+
+[Illustration: The Tree-Bearer]
+
+The primulas and cyclamen, though their pots were shrouded in pinafores
+of white paper skilfully calculated to conceal any undue lankiness of
+stem, left us unmoved. But the sight of the starveling little fir tree
+reminded us that in the school hospital lay two sick boys whose roseate
+dreams of London and holidays had suddenly changed to the knowledge that
+weeks of isolation and imprisonment behind the window-blind with the red
+cross lay before them. If we could not give them the longed-for home
+Christmas, we could at least give them a Christmas-tree.
+
+The sight of foreign customers for Grand'mere Gomard speedily collected
+a small group of interested spectators. A knot of children relinquished
+their tantalising occupation of hanging round the pan of charcoal over
+whose glow chestnuts were cracking appetisingly, and the stall of the
+lady who with amazing celerity fried pancakes on a hot plate, and sold
+them dotted with butter and sprinkled with sugar to the lucky possessors
+of a _sou_. Even the sharp urchin who presided over the old red
+umbrella, which, reversed, with the ferule fixed in a cross-bar of wood,
+served as a receptacle for sheets of festive note-paper embellished with
+lace edges and further adorned with coloured scraps, temporarily
+entrusting a juvenile sister with his responsibilities, added his
+presence to our court.
+
+[Illustration: Rosine]
+
+Christmas-trees seemed not to be greatly in demand in Versailles, and
+many were the whispered communings as to what _les Anglais_ proposed
+doing with the tree after they had bought it. When the transaction was
+completed and Grand'mere Gomard had exchanged the tree, with a sheet of
+_La Patrie_ wrapped round its pot, for a franc and our thanks, the
+interest increased. We would require some one to carry our purchase, and
+each of the bright-eyed, short-cropped Jeans and Pierres was eager to
+offer himself. But our selection was already made. A slender boy in a
+_beret_ and black pinafore, who had been our earliest spectator, was
+singled out and entrusted with the conveyance of the _arbre de Noel_ to
+our hotel.
+
+The fact that it had met with approbation appeared to encourage the
+little tree. The change may have been imaginary, but from the moment it
+passed into our possession the branches seemed less despondent, the
+needles more erect.
+
+"Will you put toys on it?" the youthful porter asked suddenly.
+
+"Yes; it is for a sick boy--a boy who has fever. Have you ever had an
+_arbre de Noel_?"
+
+"_Jamais_," was his conclusive reply: the tone thereof suggesting that
+that was a felicity quite beyond the range of possibility.
+
+The tree secured, there began the comparatively difficult work of
+finding the customary ornaments of glass and glitter to deck it. A
+fruitless search had left us almost in despair, when, late on Monday
+afternoon, we joyed to discover miniature candles of red, yellow, and
+blue on the open-air stall in front of a toy-store. A rummage in the
+interior of the shop procured candle clips, and a variety of glittering
+bagatelles. Laden with treasure, we hurried back to the hotel, and began
+the work of decoration in preparation for the morning.
+
+During its short stay in our room at the hotel, the erstwhile despised
+little tree met with an adulation that must have warmed the heart within
+its rough stem. When nothing more than three coloured glass globes, a
+gilded walnut, and a gorgeous humming-bird with wings and tail of spun
+glass had been suspended by narrow ribbon from its branches, Rosine, the
+pretty Swiss chambermaid, chancing to enter the room with letters, was
+struck with admiration and pronounced it "tres belle!"
+
+And Karl bringing in a fresh _panier_ of logs when the adorning was
+complete, and silly little delightful baubles sparkled and twinkled from
+every spray, putting down his burden, threw up his hands in amazement
+and declared the _arbre de Noel_ "magnifique!"
+
+This alien Christmas-tree had an element all its own. When we were
+searching for knick-knacks the shops were full of tiny Holy Babes lying
+cradled in waxen innocence in mangers of yellow corn. One of these
+little effigies we had bought because they pleased us. And when, the
+decoration of the tree being nearly finished, the tip of the centre stem
+standing scraggily naked called for covering, what more fitting than
+that the dear little Sacred _Bebe_ in his nest of golden straw should
+have the place of honour?
+
+It was late on Christmas Eve before our task was ended. But next morning
+when Karl, carrying in our _petit dejeuner_, turned on the electric
+light, and our anxious gaze sought our work, we found it good.
+
+Then followed a hurried packing of the loose presents; and, a _fiacre_
+having been summoned, the tree which had entered the room in all
+humility passed out transmogrified beyond knowledge. Rosine, duster in
+hand, leant over the banisters of the upper landing to watch its
+descent. Karl saw it coming and flew to open the outer door for its
+better egress. Even the stout old driver of the red-wheeled cab creaked
+cumbrously round on his box to look upon its beauties.
+
+[Illustration: Alms and the Lady]
+
+The Market was busy in the square as we rattled through. From behind
+their battlemented wares the country mice waged wordy war with the town
+mice over the price of merchandise. But on this occasion we were too
+engrossed to notice a scene whose picturesque humour usually fascinated
+us, for as the carriage jogged over the rough roads the poor little
+_arbre de Noel_ palpitated convulsively. The gewgaws clattered like
+castanets, as though in frantic expostulation, and the radiant
+spun-glass humming-birds quivered until we expected them to break from
+their elastic fetters and fly away. The green and scarlet one with the
+gold-flecked wings fell on the floor and rolled under the seat just as
+the cab drew up at the great door of the school.
+
+The two Red-Cross prisoners who, now that the dominating heat of fever
+had faded, were thinking wistfully of the forbidden joys of home, had no
+suspicion of our intention, and we wished to surprise them. So, burdened
+with our treasure, we slipped in quietly.
+
+From her lodge window the concierge nodded approval. And at the door of
+the hospital the good Soeur received us, a flush of pleasure glorifying
+her tranquil face.
+
+Then followed a moment wherein the patients were ordered to shut their
+eyes, to reopen them upon the vision splendid of the _arbre de Noel_.
+Perhaps it was the contrast to the meagre background of the tiny
+school-hospital room, with its two white beds and bare walls, but,
+placed in full view on the centre table, the tree was almost imposing.
+Standing apart from Grand'mere's primulas and cyclamen as though,
+conscious of its own inferiority, it did not wish to obtrude, it had
+looked dejected, miserable. During its sojourn at the hotel the
+appreciation of its meanness had troubled us. But now, in the shabby
+little chamber, where there were no rival attractions to detract from
+its glory, we felt proud of it. It was just the right size for the
+surroundings. A two-franc tree, had Grand'mere possessed one, would have
+been Brobdignagian and pretentious.
+
+[Illustration: Adoration]
+
+A donor who is handicapped by the knowledge that the gifts he selects
+must within a few weeks be destroyed by fire, is rarely lavish in his
+outlay. Yet our presents, wrapped in white paper and tied with blue
+ribbons, when arranged round the flower-pot made a wonderful show, There
+were mounted Boers who, when you pressed the ball at the end of the
+air-tube, galloped in a wobbly, uncertain fashion. The invalids had good
+fun later trying races with them, and the Boy professed to find that his
+Boer gained an accelerated speed when he whispered "Bobs" to him. There
+were tales of adventure and flasks of eau-de-Cologne and smart virile
+pocket-books, one red morocco, the other blue. We regretted the
+pocket-books; but their possession made the recipients who, boylike,
+took no heed for the cleansing fires of the morrow, feel grown-up at
+once. And they yearned for the advent of the first day of the year, that
+they might begin writing in their new diaries. For the Sister there was
+a miniature gold consecrated medal. It was a small tribute of our
+esteem, but one that pleased the devout recipient.
+
+[Illustration: Thankfulness]
+
+Suspended among the purely ornamental trinkets of the tree hung tiny net
+bags of crystallised violets and many large chocolates rolled up in
+silver paper. The boys, who had subsisted for several days on nothing
+more exciting than boiled milk, openly rejoiced when they caught sight
+of the sweets. But to her patients' disgust, the Soeur, who had a pretty
+wit of her own, promptly frustrated their intentions by counting the
+dainties.
+
+"I count the chocolates. They are good boys, wise boys, honest boys, and
+I have every confidence in them, but--I count the chocolates!" said the
+Soeur.
+
+[Illustration: One of the Devout]
+
+As we passed back along the Rue de la Paroisse, worshippers were
+flocking in and out of Notre Dame, running the gauntlet of the unsavoury
+beggars who, loudly importunate, thronged the portals. Before the quiet
+nook wherein, under a gold-bestarred canopy, was the tableau of the
+Infant Jesus in the stable, little children stood in wide-eyed
+adoration, and older people gazed with mute devotion.
+
+Some might deem the little spectacle theatrical, and there was a slight
+irrelevance in the pot-plants that were grouped along the foreground,
+but none could fail to be impressed by the silent reverence of the
+congregation. No service was in process, yet many believers knelt at
+prayer. Here a pretty girl returned thanks for evident blessings
+received; there an old spinster, the narrowness of whose means forbade
+her expending a couple of sous on the hire of a chair, knelt on the
+chilly flags and murmured words of gratitude for benefits whereof her
+appearance bore no outward indication.
+
+We had left the prisoners to the enjoyment of their newly acquired
+property in the morning. At gloaming we again mounted the time-worn
+outside stair leading to the chamber whose casement bore the ominous red
+cross. The warm glow of firelight filled the room, scintillating in the
+glittering facets of the baubles on the tree; and from their pillows two
+pale-faced boys--boys who, despite their lengthening limbs were yet
+happily children at heart--watched eager-eyed while the sweet-faced
+Soeur, with reverential care, lit the candles that surrounded the Holy
+_Bebe_.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+LE JOUR DE L'ANNEE
+
+
+The closing days of 1900 had been unusually mild. Versailles townsfolk,
+watching the clear skies for sign of change, declared that it would be
+outside all precedent if Christmas week passed without snow. But,
+defiant of rule, sunshine continued, and the new century opened
+cloudless and bright.
+
+[Illustration: De L'eau Chaude]
+
+Karl, entering with hot water, gave us seasonable greeting, and as we
+descended the stair, pretty Rosine, brushing boots at the open window of
+the landing, also wished us a smiling _bonne nouvelle annee_. But within
+or without there was little token of gaiety. Sundry booths for the sale
+of gingerbread and cheap _jouets_, which had been erected in the Avenue
+de St. Cloud, found business languishing, though a stalwart countryman
+in blouse and sabots, whose stock-in-trade consisted of whirligigs
+fashioned in the semblance of _moulins rouges_ and grotesque blue
+Chinamen which he carried stuck into a straw wreath fixed on a tall
+pole, had no lack of custom.
+
+The great food question never bulks so largely in the public interest as
+at the close of a year, so perhaps it was but natural that the greatest
+appreciation of the festive traditions of the season should be evinced
+by the shops devoted to the sale of provender. Turkeys sported scarlet
+bows on their toes as though anticipating a dance rather than the oven;
+and by their sides sausages, their somewhat plethoric waists girdled by
+pink ribbon sashes, seemed ready to join them in the frolic. In one
+cookshop window a trio of plaster nymphs who stood ankle-deep in a pool
+of crimped green paper, upheld a huge garland of cunningly moulded wax
+roses, dahlias, and lilac, above which perched a pheasant regnant. This
+trophy met with vast approbation until a rival establishment across the
+way, not to be outdone, exhibited a centrepiece of unparalleled
+originality, consisting as it did of a war scene modelled entirely in
+lard. Entrenched behind the battlements of the fort crowning an
+eminence, Boers busied themselves with cannon whose aim was carefully
+directed towards the admiring spectators outside the window, not at the
+British troops who were essaying to scale the greasy slopes. Half way up
+the hill, a miniature train appeared from time to time issuing from an
+absolutely irrelevant tunnel, and, progressing at the rate of quite a
+mile an hour, crawled into the corresponding tunnel on the other side.
+At the base of the hill British soldiers, who seemed quite cognisant of
+the utter futility of the Boer gunnery, were complacently driving off
+cattle. Captious critics might have taken exception to the fact that the
+waxen camellias adorning the hill were nearly as big as the battlements,
+and considerably larger than the engine of the train. But fortunately
+detractors were absent, and such trifling discrepancies did not lessen
+the genuine delight afforded the spectators by this unique design which,
+as a card proudly informed the world, was entirely the work of the
+employes of the firm.
+
+It was in a patisserie in the Rue de la Paroisse that we noticed an
+uninviting compound labelled "Pudding Anglais, 2 fr. 1/2 kilo." A little
+thought led us to recognise in this amalgamation a travesty of our old
+friend plum-pudding; but so revolting was its dark, bilious-looking
+exterior that we felt its claim to be accounted a compatriot almost
+insulting. And it was with secret gratification that towards the close
+of January we saw the same stolid, unhappy blocks awaiting purchasers.
+
+[Illustration: The Mill]
+
+The presence of the customary Tuesday market kept the streets busy till
+noon. But when the square was again empty of sellers and buyers
+Versailles relapsed into quietude. I wonder if any other town of its
+size is as silent as Versailles. There is little horse-traffic. Save for
+the weird, dirge-like drone of the electric cars, which seems in perfect
+consonance with the tone of sadness pervading the old town whose glory
+has departed, the clang of the wooden shoes on the rough pavement, and
+the infrequent beat of hoofs as a detachment of cavalry moves by,
+unnatural stillness seems to prevail.
+
+Of street music there was none, though once an old couple wailing a
+plaintive duet passed under our windows. Britain is not esteemed a
+melodious nation, yet the unclassical piano is ever with us, and even in
+the smallest provincial towns one is rarely out of hearing of the
+insistent note of some itinerant musician. And no matter how far one
+penetrates into the recesses of the country, he is always within reach
+of some bucolic rendering of the popular music-hall ditty of the year
+before last. But never during our stay in Versailles, a stay that
+included what is supposedly the gay time of the year, did we hear the
+sound of an instrument, or--with the one exception of the old couple,
+whom it would be rank flattery to term vocalists--the note of a voice
+raised in song.
+
+With us, New Year's Day was a quiet one. A dozen miles distant, Paris
+was welcoming the advent of the new century in a burst of feverish
+excitement. But despite temptations, we remained in drowsy Versailles,
+and spent several of the hours in the little room where two pallid
+Red-Cross knights, who were celebrating the occasion by sitting up for
+the first time, waited expectant of our coming as their one link with
+the outside world.
+
+[Illustration: The Presbytery]
+
+It was with a sincere thrill of pity that at _dejeuner_ we glanced round
+the _salle-a-manger_ and found all the Ogams filling their accustomed
+solitary places. Only Dunois the comparatively young, and presumably
+brave, was absent. The others occupied their usual seats, eating with
+their unfailing air of introspective absorption. Nobody had cared enough
+for these lonely old men to ask them to fill a corner at their tables,
+even on New Year's Day. To judge by their regular attendance at the
+hotel meals, these men--all of whom, as shown by their wearing the red
+ribbon of the Legion of Honour, had merited distinction--had little
+hospitality offered them. Most probably they offered as little, for,
+throughout our stay, none ever had a friend to share his breakfast or
+dinner.
+
+The bearing of the hotel guests suggested absolute ignorance of one
+another's existence. The Colonels, as I have said in a previous chapter,
+were exceptions, but even they held intercourse only without the hotel
+walls. Day after day, month after month, year after year as we were
+told, these men had fed together, yet we never saw them betray even the
+most cursory interest in one another. They entered and departed without
+revealing, by word or look, cognisance of another human being's
+presence. Could one imagine a dozen men of any other nationality thus
+maintaining the same indifference over even a short period? I hope
+future experience will prove me wrong, but in the meantime my former
+conception of the French as a nation overflowing with _bonhomie_ and
+_camaraderie_ is rudely shaken.
+
+The day of the year would have passed without anything to distinguish it
+from its fellows had not the proprietor, who, by the way, was a Swiss,
+endeavoured by sundry little attentions to reveal his goodwill. Oysters
+usurped the place of the customary _hors d'oeuvres_ at breakfast, and
+the meal ended with _cafe noir_ and cognac handed round by the
+deferential Iorson as being "offered by the proprietor," who, entering
+during the progress of the _dejeuner_, paid his personal respects to his
+_clientele_.
+
+The afternoon brought us a charming discovery. We had a boy guest with
+us at luncheon, a lonely boy left at school when his few
+compatriots--save only the two Red-Cross prisoners--had gone home on
+holiday. The day was bright and balmy; and while strolling in the park
+beyond the Petit Trianon, we stumbled by accident upon the _hameau_, the
+little village of counterfeit rusticity wherein Marie Antoinette loved
+to play at country life.
+
+Following a squirrel that sported among the trees, we had strayed from
+the beaten track, when, through the leafless branches, we caught sight
+of roofs and houses and, wandering towards them, found ourselves by the
+side of a miniature lake, round whose margin were grouped the daintiest
+rural cottages that monarch could desire or Court architect design.
+
+History had told us of the creation of this unique plaything of the
+capricious Queen, but we had thought of it as a thing of the past, a toy
+whose fragile beauty had been wrecked by the rude blows of the
+Revolution. The matter-of-fact and unromantic Baedeker, it is true, gives
+it half a line. After devoting pages to the Chateau, its grounds,
+pictures, and statues, and detailing exhaustively the riches of the
+Trianons, he blandly mentions the gardens of the Petit Trianon as
+containing "some fine exotic trees, an artificial lake, a Temple of
+Love, and a hamlet where the Court ladies played at peasant life."
+
+It is doubtful whether ten out of every hundred tourists who, Baedeker
+in hand, wander conscientiously over the grand Chateau--Palace, alas! no
+longer--ever notice the concluding words, or, reading its lukewarm
+recommendation, deem the hamlet worthy of a visit. The Chateau is an
+immense building crammed with artistic achievements, and by the time the
+sightseer of ordinary capacity has seen a tenth of the pictures, a third
+of the sculpture, and a half of the fountains, his endurance, if not all
+his patience, is exhausted.
+
+I must acknowledge that we, too, had visited Versailles without
+discovering that the _hameau_ still existed; so to chance upon it in the
+sunset glow of that winter evening seemed to carry us back to the time
+when the storm-cloud of the Revolution was yet no larger than a man's
+hand; to the day when Louis XVI., making for once a graceful speech,
+presented the site to his wife, saying: "You love flowers. Ah! well, I
+have a bouquet for you--the Petit Trianon." And his Queen, weary of the
+restrictions of Court ceremony--though it must be admitted that the
+willful Marie Antoinette ever declined to be hampered by
+convention--experiencing in her residence in the little house freedom
+from etiquette, pursued the novel pleasure to its furthest by commanding
+the erection in its grounds of a village wherein she might the better
+indulge her newly fledged fancy for make-believe rusticity.
+
+About the pillars supporting the verandah-roof of the chief cottage and
+that of the wide balcony above, roses and vines twined lovingly. And
+though it was the first day of January, the rose foliage was yet green
+and bunches of shrivelled grapes clung to the vines. It was lovely then;
+yet a day or two later, when a heavy snowfall had cast a white mantle
+over the village, and the little lake was frozen hard, the scene seemed
+still more beautiful in its ghostly purity.
+
+At first sight there was no sign of decay about the long-deserted
+hamlet. The windows were closed, but had it been early morning, one
+could easily have imagined that the pseudo villagers were asleep behind
+the shuttered casements, and that soon the Queen, in some charming
+_deshabille_, would come out to breathe the sweet morning air and to
+inhale the perfume of the climbing roses on the balcony overlooking the
+lake, wherein gold-fish darted to and fro among the water-lilies; or
+expect to see the King, from the steps of the little mill where he
+lodged, exchange blithe greetings with the maids of honour as they
+tripped gaily to the _laiterie_ to play at butter-making, or sauntered
+across the rustic bridge on their way to gather new-laid eggs at the
+farm.
+
+The sunset glamour had faded and the premature dusk of mid-winter was
+falling as, approaching nearer, we saw where the roof-thatch had
+decayed, where the insidious finger of Time had crumbled the stone
+walls. A chilly wind arising, moaned through the naked trees. The shadow
+of the guillotine seemed to brood oppressively over the scene, and,
+shuddering, we hastened away.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: To the Place of Rest]
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+ICE-BOUND
+
+
+Even in the last days of December rosebuds had been trying to open on
+the standard bushes in the sheltered rose-garden of the Palace. But with
+the early nights of January a sudden frost seized the town in its icy
+grip, and, almost before we had time to realise the change of weather,
+pipes were frozen and hot-water bottles of strange design made their
+appearance in the upper corridors of the hotel. The naked cherubs in the
+park basins stood knee-deep in ice, skaters skimmed the smooth surface
+of the canal beyond the _tapis vert_, and in a twinkling Versailles
+became a town peopled by gnomes and brownies whose faces peeped quaintly
+from within conical hoods.
+
+Soldiers drew their cloak-hoods over their uniform caps. Postmen went
+their rounds thus snugly protected from the weather. The doddering old
+scavengers, plying their brooms among the great trees of the avenues,
+bore so strong a resemblance to the pixies who lurk in caves and woods,
+that we almost expected to see them vanish into some crevice in the
+gnarled roots of the trunks. Even the tiny acolytes trotting gravely in
+the funeral processions had their heads and shoulders shrouded in the
+prevailing hooded capes.
+
+[Illustration: While the Frost Holds]
+
+To us, accustomed though we were to an inclement winter climate, the
+chill seemed intense. So frigid was the atmosphere that the first step
+taken from the heated hotel hall into the outer air felt like putting
+one's face against an iceberg. All wraps of ordinary thickness appeared
+incapable of excluding the cold, and I sincerely envied the countless
+wearers of the dominant Capuchin cloaks.
+
+[Illustration: The Postman's Wrap]
+
+Our room was many-windowed, and no matter how high Karl piled the logs,
+nor how close we sat to the flames, our backs never felt really warm. It
+was only when night had fallen and the outside shutters were firmly
+closed that the thermometer suspended near the chimney-piece grudgingly
+consented to record temperate heat.
+
+[Illustration: A Lapful of Warmth]
+
+But there was at least one snug chamber in Versailles, and that was the
+room of the Red-Cross prisoners. However extravagant the degrees of
+frost registered without, the boys' sick-room was always pleasantly
+warm. How the good Soeur, who was on duty all day, managed to regulate
+the heat throughout the night-watches was her secret. A half-waking boy
+might catch a glimpse of her, apparently robed as by day, stealing out
+of the room; but so noiseless were her movements, that neither of the
+invalids ever saw her stealing in. They had a secret theory that in her
+own little apartment, which was just beyond theirs, the Soeur, garbed,
+hooded, and wearing rosary and the knotted rope of her Order, passed her
+nights in devotion. Certain it was that even the most glacial of
+weathers did not once avail to prevent her attending the Mass that was
+held at Notre Dame each morning before daybreak.
+
+[Illustration: The Daily Round]
+
+Frost-flowers dulled the inner glories of the shop windows with their
+unwelcome decoration. Even in the square on market mornings business
+flagged. The country folks, chilled by their cold drive to town,
+cowered, muffled in thick wraps, over their little charcoal stoves,
+lacking energy to call attention to their wares. The sage with the
+onions was absent, but the pretty girl in the red hood held her
+accustomed place, warming mittened fingers at a chaufferette which she
+held on her lap. The only person who gave no outward sign of misery was
+the boulangere who, harnessed to her heavy hand-cart, toiled
+unflinchingly on her rounds.
+
+In the streets the comely little _bourgeoises_ hid their plump shoulders
+under ugly black knitted capes, and concealed their neat hands in clumsy
+worsted gloves. But despite the rigour of the atmosphere their heads,
+with the hair neatly dressed _a la Chinoise_, remained uncovered. It
+struck our unaccustomed eyes oddly to see these girls thus exposed,
+standing on the pavement in the teeth of some icy blast, talking to
+stalwart soldier friends, whose noses were their only visible feature.
+
+[Illustration: Three Babes and a Bonne]
+
+The ladies of Versailles give a thought to their waists, but they leave
+their ankles to Providence, and any one having experience of Versailles
+winter streets can fully sympathise with their trust; for even in dry
+sunny weather mud seems a spontaneous production that renders goloshes a
+necessity. And when frost holds the high-standing city in its frigid
+grasp the extreme cold forbids any idea of coquetry, and thickly lined
+boots with cloth uppers--a species of foot-gear that in grace of outline
+is decidedly suggestive of "arctics"--become the only comfortable wear.
+
+[Illustration: Snow in the Park]
+
+After a few days of thought-congealing cold--a cold so intense that
+sundry country people who had left their homes before dawn to drive into
+Paris with farm produce were taken dead from their market-carts at the
+end of the journey--the weather mercifully changed. A heavy snowfall now
+tempered the inclement air, and turned the leafless park into a fairy
+vision.
+
+The nights were still cold, but during the day the sun glinted warmly on
+the frozen waters of the gilded fountains and sparkled on the facets of
+the crisp snow. The marble benches in the sheltered nooks of the snug
+Chateau gardens were occupied by little groups, which usually consisted
+of a _bonne_ and a baby, or of a chevalier and a hopelessly unclassable
+dog; for the dogs of Versailles belong to breeds that no man living
+could classify, the most prevalent type in clumsiness of contour and
+astonishing shagginess of coat resembling nothing more natural than
+those human travesties of the canine race familiar to us in pantomime.
+
+Along the snow-covered paths under the leafless trees, on whose branches
+close-wreathed mistletoe hangs like rooks' nests, the statues stood like
+guardian angels of the scene. They had lost their air of aloofness and
+were at one with the white earth, just as the forest trees in their
+autumn dress of brown and russet appear more in unison with their parent
+soil than when decked in their bravery of summer greenery.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+THE HAUNTED CHATEAU
+
+
+[Illustration: A Veteran of the Chateau]
+
+The Chateau of Versailles, like the town, dozes through the winter, only
+half awakening on Sunday afternoons when the townsfolk make it their
+meeting-place. Then conscripts, in clumsy, ill-fitting uniforms, tread
+noisily over the shining _parqueterie_ floors, and burgesses gossip
+amicably in the dazzling _Galerie des Glaces_, where each morning
+courtiers were wont to await the uprising of their king. But on the
+weekdays visitors are of the rarest. Sometimes a few half-frozen people
+who have rashly automobiled thither from Paris alight at the Chateau
+gates, and take a hurried walk through the empty galleries to restore
+the circulation to their stiffened limbs before venturing to set forth
+on the return journey.
+
+Every weekday in the Place d'Armes, squads of conscripts are busily
+drilling, running hither and thither with unflagging energy, and the air
+resounds with the hoarse staccato cries of "Un! Deux! Trois!" wherewith
+they accompany their movements, cries that, heard from a short distance,
+exactly resemble the harsh barking of a legion of dogs.
+
+[Illustration: Un--Deux--Trois]
+
+Within the gates there is a sense of leisure: even the officials have
+ceased to anticipate visitors. In the _Cour Royale_ two little girls
+have cajoled an old guide into playing a game of ball. A custodian dozes
+by the great log fire in the bedroom of Louis XIV., where the warm
+firelight playing on the rich trappings lends such an air of occupation
+to the chamber, that--forgetting how time has turned to grey the once
+white ostrich plumes adorning the canopy of the bed, and that the
+priceless lace coverlet would probably fall to pieces at a touch--one
+almost expects the door to open for the entrance of Louis le Grand
+himself.
+
+To this room he came when he built the Palace wherein to hide from that
+grim summons with which the tower of the Royal sepulture of St. Denis,
+visible from his former residence, seemed to threaten him. And here it
+was that Death, after long seeking, found him. We can see the little
+great-grandson who was to succeed, lifted on to the bed of the dying
+monarch.
+
+[Illustration: The Bedchamber of Louis XIV]
+
+"What is your name, my child?" asks the King.
+
+"Louis XV;" replies the infant, taking brevet-rank. And nearly sixty
+years later we see the child, his wasted life at an end, dying of
+virulent smallpox under the same roof, deserted by all save his devoted
+daughters.
+
+To me the Palace of Versailles is peopled by the ghosts of many women. A
+few of them are dowdy and good, but by far the greater number are
+graceful and wicked. How infinitely easier it is to make a good bad
+reputation than to achieve even a bad good one! "Tell us stories about
+naughty children," we used to beseech our nurses. And as our years
+increase we still yawn over the doings of the righteous, while our
+interest in the ways of transgressors only strengthens.
+
+We all know by heart the romantic lives of the shrinking La Valliere, of
+Madame de Montespan the impassioned, of sleek Madame de Maintenon--the
+trio of beauties honoured by the admiration of Louis le Grand; and of
+the bevy of favourites of Louis XV, the three fair and short-lived
+sisters de Mailly-Nesle, the frail Pompadour who mingled scheming with
+debauchery, and the fascinating but irresponsible Du Barry. Even the most
+minute details of Marie Antoinette's tragic career are fresh in our
+memories, but which of us can remember the part in the history of France
+played by Marie Leczinska? Yet, apart from her claim to notability as
+having been the last queen who ended her days on the French throne, her
+story is full of romantic interest.
+
+Thrusting aside the flimsy veil of Time, we find Marie Leczinska the
+penniless daughter of an exiled Polish king who is living in retirement
+in a dilapidated commandatory at a little town in Alsace. It is easy to
+picture the shabby room wherein the unforeseeing Marie sits content
+between her mother and grandmother, all three diligently broidering
+altar cloths. Upon the peaceful scene the father enters, overcome by
+emotion, trembling. His face announces great news, before he can school
+his voice to speak.
+
+"Why, father! Have you been recalled to the throne of Poland?" asks
+Marie, and the naive question reveals that many years of banishment have
+not quenched in the hearts of the exiles the hope of a return to their
+beloved Poland.
+
+"No, my daughter, but you are to be Queen of France," replies the
+father. "Let us thank God."
+
+[Illustration: Marie Leczinska]
+
+Knowing the sequel, one wonders if it was for a blessing or a curse that
+the refugees, kneeling in that meagre room in the old house at
+Wissenberg, returned thanks.
+
+Certain it is that the ministers of the boy-monarch were actuated more
+by a craving to further their own ends than either by the desire to
+please God or to honour their King, in selecting this obscure maiden
+from the list of ninety-nine marriageable princesses that had been drawn
+up at Versailles. A dowerless damsel possessed of no influential
+relatives is not in a position to be exacting, and, whate'er befell,
+poor outlawed Stanislas Poniatowski could not have taken up arms in
+defence of his daughter.
+
+Having a sincere regard for unaffected Marie Leczinska, I regret being
+obliged to admit that, even in youth, "comely" was the most effusive
+adjective that could veraciously be awarded her. And it is only in the
+lowest of whispers that I will admit that she was seven years older than
+her handsome husband, whose years did not then number seventeen. Yet is
+there indubitable charm in the simple grace wherewith Marie accepted her
+marvellous transformation from pauper to queen. She disarmed criticism
+by refusing to conceal her former poverty. "This is the first time in my
+life I have been able to make presents," she frankly told the ladies of
+the Court, as she distributed among them her newly got trinkets.
+
+It is pleasant to remember that the early years of her wedded life
+passed harmoniously. Louis, though never passionately enamoured of his
+wife, yet loved her with the warm affection a young man bestows on the
+first woman he has possessed. And that Marie was wholly content there is
+little doubt. She was no gadabout. Versailles satisfied her. Three years
+passed before she visited Paris, and then the visit was more of the
+nature of a pilgrimage than of a State progress. Twin daughters had
+blessed the union, and the Queen journeyed to the churches of Notre Dame
+and Saint Genevieve to crave from Heaven the boon of a Dauphin: a prayer
+which a year later was answered.
+
+But clouds were gathering apace. As he grew into manhood the domestic
+virtues palled upon Louis. He tired of the needlework which, doubtless,
+Marie's skilled hands had taught him. We recall how, sitting between her
+mother and grandmother, the future Queen had broidered altar cloths.
+Marie Leczinska was an adoring mother; possibly her devotion to their
+rapidly increasing family wearied him. Being little more than a child
+himself, the King is scarcely likely to have found the infantile society
+so engaging as did the mother. Thus began that series of foolish
+infidelities that, characterised by extreme timidity and secrecy at
+first, was latterly flaunted in the face of the world.
+
+Marie's life was not a smooth one, but it was happier than that of her
+Royal spouse. To me there is nothing sadder, nothing more sordid in
+history, than the feeble, useless existence of Louis XV., whose early
+years promised so well. It is pitiful to look at the magnificent
+portrait, still hanging in the palace where he reigned, of the
+child-king seated in his robes of State, the sceptre in his hand,
+looking with eyes of innocent wonder into the future, then to think upon
+the depth of degradation reached by the once revered Monarch before his
+body was dragged in dishonour and darkness to its last resting-place.
+
+[Illustration: Madame Adelaide]
+
+Pleasanter figures that haunt the Chateau are those of the six pretty
+daughters of Louis and Marie Leczinska. There are the ill-starred twins,
+Elizabeth and Henrietta: Madame Elizabeth, who never lost the love of
+her old home, and, though married, before entering her teens, to the
+Infanta of Spain, retired, after a life of disappointment, to her
+beloved Versailles to die; and the gentle Henrietta who, cherishing an
+unlucky passion for the young Duc de Chartres, pined quietly away after
+witnessing her lover wed to another.
+
+Then there is Adelaide, whom Nattier loved to paint, portraying her
+sometimes as a lightly clad goddess, sometimes sitting demurely in a
+pretty frock. Good Nattier! there is a later portrait of himself in
+complacent middle age surrounded by his wife and children; but I like to
+think that, when he spent so many days at the Palace painting the young
+Princess, some tenderer influence than mere artistic skill lent cunning
+to his brush.
+
+When the daughters of Louis XV. were sent to be educated at a convent,
+Adelaide it was who, by tearful protest to her royal father, gained
+permission to remain at the Palace while her sisters meekly endured
+their banishment. From this instance of childish character one would
+have anticipated a career for Madame Adelaide, and I hate being obliged
+to think of her merely developing into one of the three spinster aunts
+of Louis XVI. who, residing under the same roof, turned coldly
+disapproving eyes upon the manifold frailties of their niece, Marie
+Antoinette.
+
+The sisters Victoire and Sophie are faint shades leaving no impression
+on the memory; but there is another spirit, clad in the sombre garb of a
+Carmelite nun, who, standing aloof, looks with the calm eyes of peace on
+the motley throng. It is Louise, the youngest sister of all, who, deeply
+grieved by her father's infatuation for the Du Barry--an infatuation
+which, beginning within a month of Marie Leczinska's decease, ended only
+when on his deathbed the dying Monarch prepared to receive absolution by
+bidding his inamorata farewell--resolved to flee her profligate
+surroundings and devote her life to holiness.
+
+It is affecting to think of the gentle Louise, secretly anticipating the
+rigours of convent life, torturing her delicate skin by wearing coarse
+serge, and burning tallow candles in her chamber to accustom herself to
+their detestable odour.
+
+Her father's consent gained, Louise still tarried at Versailles. Perhaps
+the King's daughter shrank from voluntarily beginning a life of
+imprisoned drudgery. We know that at this period she passed many hours
+reading contemporary history, knowing that, once within the convent
+walls, the study of none but sacred literature would be permitted.
+
+Then came an April morning when Louise, who had kept her intention
+secret from all save her father, left the Palace never to return.
+France, in a state of joyous excitement, was eagerly anticipating the
+arrival of Marie Antoinette, who was setting forth on the first stage of
+that triumphal journey which had so tragic an ending. Already the gay
+clamour of wedding-bells filled the air; and Louise may have feared
+that, did she linger at Versailles, the enticing vanities of the world
+might change the current of her thoughts.
+
+Chief among the impalpable throng that people the state galleries is
+Marie Antoinette, and her spirit shows us many faces. It is charming,
+haughty, considerate, headstrong, frivolous, thoughtful, degraded,
+dignified, in quick succession. We see her arrive at the Palace amid the
+tumultuous adoration of the crowd, and leave amidst its execrations.
+Sometimes she is richly apparelled, as befits a queen; anon she sports
+the motley trappings of a mountebank. The courtyard that saw the
+departure of Madame Louise witnesses Marie Antoinette, returning at
+daybreak in company with her brother-in-law from some festivity
+unbecoming a queen, refused admittance by the King's express command.
+
+[Illustration: Louis Quatorze]
+
+Many of the attendant spirits who haunt Marie Antoinette's ghostly
+footsteps as they haunted her earthly ones are malefic. Most are women,
+and all are young and fair. There is Madame Roland, who, taken as a
+young girl to the Palace to peep at the Royalties, became imbued by that
+jealous hatred which only the Queen's death could appease.
+
+"If I stay here much longer," she told that kindly mother who sought to
+give her a treat by showing her Court life, "I shall detest these people
+so much that I shall be unable to hide my hatred."
+
+It is easy to fancy the girl's evil face scowling at the unconscious
+Queen, before she leaves to pen those inflammatory pamphlets which are
+to prove the Sovereign's undoing and her own. For by some whim of fate
+Madame Roland was executed on the very scaffold to which her envenomed
+writings had driven Marie Antoinette.
+
+A spectre that impresses as wearing rags under a gorgeous robe, lurks
+among the foliage of the quiet _bosquet_ beyond the orangerie. It is the
+infamous Madame de la Motte, chief of adventuresses, and it was in that
+secluded grove that her tool, Cardinal de Rohan, had his pretended
+interview with the Queen. Poor, perfidious Contesse! what an existence
+of alternate beggarly poverty and beggarly riches was hers before that
+last scene of all when she lay broken and bruised almost beyond human
+semblance in that dingy London courtyard beneath the window from which,
+in a mad attempt to escape arrest, she had thrown herself.
+
+Through the Royal salons flits a presence whereat the shades of the
+Royal Princesses look askance: that of the frolicsome, good-natured,
+irresponsible Du Barry. A soulless ephemera she, with no ambitions or
+aspirations, save that, having quitted the grub stage, she desires to be
+as brilliant a butterfly as possible. Close in attendance on her moves
+an ebon shadow--Zamora, the ingrate foundling who, reared by the
+Duchesse, swore that he would make his benefactress ascend the scaffold,
+and kept his oath. For our last sight of the prodigal, warm-hearted Du
+Barry, plaything of the aged King, is on the guillotine, where in
+agonies of terror she fruitlessly appeals to her executioner's clemency.
+
+But of all the bygone dames who haunt the grand Chateau, the only one I
+detest is probably the most irreproachable of all--Madame de Maintenon.
+There is something so repulsively sanctimonious in her aspect, something
+so crafty in the method wherewith, under the cloak of religion, she
+wormed her way into high places, ousting--always in the name of
+propriety--those who had helped her. Her stepping-stone to Royal favour
+was handsome, impetuous Madame de Montespan, who, taking compassion on
+her widowed poverty, appointed Madame Scarron, as she then was,
+governess of her children, only to find her _protegee_ usurp her place
+both in the honours of the King and in the affections of their children.
+
+The natural heart rebels against the "unco guid," and Madame de
+Maintenon, with her smooth expression, double chin, sober garments and
+ever-present symbols of piety, revolts me. I know it is wrong. I know
+that historians laud her for the wholesome influence she exercised upon
+the mind of a king who had grown timorous with years; that the dying
+Queen declared that she owed the King's kindness to her during the last
+twenty years of her life entirely to Madame de Maintenon. But we know
+also that six months after the Queen's death an unwonted light showed at
+midnight in the Chapel Royal, where Madame de Maintenon--the child of a
+prison cell--was becoming the legal though unacknowledged wife of Louis
+XIV. The impassioned, uncalculating de Montespan had given the handsome
+Monarch her all without stipulation. Truly the career of Madame de
+Maintenon was a triumph of virtue over vice; and yet of all that
+heedless, wanton throng, my soul detests only her.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Where the Queen Played]
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+MARIE ANTOINETTE
+
+
+Stereotyped sights are rarely the most engrossing. At the Palace of
+Versailles the _petits appartements de la Reine_, those tiny rooms whose
+grey old-world furniture might have been in use yesterday, to me hold
+more actuality than all the regal salons in whose vast emptiness
+footsteps reverberate like echoes from the past.
+
+In the pretty sitting-room the coverings to-day are a reproduction of
+the same pale blue satin that draped the furniture in the days when
+queens preferred the snug seclusion of those dainty rooms overlooking
+the dank inner courtyard to the frigid grandeur of their State chambers.
+Therein it was that Marie Leczinska was wont to instruct her young
+daughters in the virtues as she had known them in her girlhood's
+thread-bare home, not as her residence at the profligate French Court
+had taught her to understand them.
+
+[Illustration: Marie Antoinette]
+
+The heavy gilt bolts bearing the interlaced initials M.A. remind us that
+these, too, were the favourite rooms of Marie Antoinette, and that in
+all probability the cunningly entwined bolts were the handiwork of her
+honest spouse, who wrought at his blacksmith forge below while his wife
+flirted above. But in truth the _petits appartements_ are instinct with
+memories of Marie Antoinette, and it is difficult to think of any save
+only her occupying them. The beautiful _coffre_ presented to her with
+the layette of the Dauphin still stands on a table in an adjoining
+chamber, and the paintings on its white silk casing are scarcely faded
+yet, though the decorative ruching of green silk leaves has long ago
+fallen into decay.
+
+A step farther is the little white and gold boudoir which still holds
+the mirror that gave the haughty Queen her first premonition of the
+catastrophe that awaited her. Viewed casually the triple mirror, lining
+an alcove wherein stands a couch garlanded with flowers, betrays no
+sinister qualities. But any visitor who approaches looking at his
+reflection where at the left the side panels meet the angle of the wall,
+will be greeted by a sight similar to that whose tragic suggestion made
+even the haughty Queen pause a moment in her reckless career. For in the
+innocent appearing mirrors the gazer is reflected without a head.
+
+It was through this liliputian suite, this strip of homeliness so
+artfully introduced into a palace, that Marie Antoinette fled on that
+fateful August morning when the mob of infuriated women invaded the
+Chateau.
+
+Knowing this, I was puzzling over the transparent fact that either of
+the apparent exits would have led her directly into the hands of the
+enemy, when the idea of a secret staircase suggested itself. A little
+judicious inquiry elicited the information that one did exist. "But it
+is not seen. It is locked. To view it, an order from the
+Commissary--that is necessary," explained the old guide.
+
+To know that a secret staircase, and one of such vivid historical
+importance, was at hand, and not to have seen it would have been too
+tantalising. The "Commissary" was an unknown quantity, and for a space
+it seemed as though our desire would be ungratified. Happily the
+knowledge of our interest awoke a kindly reciprocity in our guide, who,
+hurrying off, quickly returned with the venerable custodian of the key.
+A moment later, the unobtrusive panel that concealed the exit flew open
+at its touch, and the secret staircase, dark, narrow, and hoary with the
+dust of years, lay before us.
+
+[Illustration: The Secret Stair]
+
+Many must have been the romantic meetings aided by those diminutive
+steps, but, peering into their shadows, we saw nothing but a vision of
+Marie Antoinette, half clad in dishevelled wrappings of petticoat and
+shawl, flying distracted from the vengeance of the furies through the
+refuge of the low-roofed stairway.
+
+In my ingenuous youth, when studying French history, I evolved a theory
+which seemed, to myself at least, to account satisfactorily for the
+radical differences distinguishing Louis XVI. from his brothers and
+antecedents. Finding that, when a delicate infant, he had been sent to
+the country to nurse, I rushed to the conclusion that the royal infant
+had died, and that his foster-mother, fearful of the consequences, had
+substituted a child of her own in his place. The literature of the
+nursery is full of instances that seemed to suggest the probability of
+my conjecture being correct.
+
+As a youth, Louis had proved himself both awkward and clumsy. He was
+loutish, silent in company, ill at ease in his princely surroundings,
+and in all respects unlike his younger brothers. He was honest, sincere,
+pious, a faithful husband, a devoted father; amply endowed, indeed, with
+the middle-class virtues which at that period were but rarely found in
+palaces. To my childish reasoning the most convincing proof lay in his
+innate craving for physical labour; a craving that no ridicule could
+dispel.
+
+With the romantic enthusiasm of youth, I used to fancy the peasant
+mother stealing into the Palace among the spectators who daily were
+permitted to view the royal couple at dinner, and imagine her, having
+seen the King, depart glorying secretly in the strategy that had raised
+her son to so high an estate. There was another picture, in whose
+dramatic misery I used to revel. It showed the unknown mother, who had
+discovered that by her own act she had condemned her innocent son to
+suffer for the sins of past generations of royal profligates, journeying
+to Paris (in my dreams she always wore sabots and walked the entire
+distance in a state of extreme physical exhaustion) with the intention
+of preventing his execution by declaring his lowly parentage to the mob.
+The final tableau revealed her, footsore and weary, reaching within
+sight of the guillotine just in time to see the executioner holding up
+her son's severed head. I think my imaginary heroine died of a broken
+heart at this juncture, a catastrophe that would naturally account for
+her secret dying with her.
+
+[Illustration: Madame Sans Tete]
+
+During our winter stay at Versailles, my childish phantasies recurred to
+me, and I almost found them feasible. What an amazing irony of fate it
+would have shown had a son of the soil expired to expiate the crimes of
+sovereigns!
+
+But more pitiful by far than the saddest of illusions is the sordid
+reality of a scene indelibly imprinted on my mental vision. Memory takes
+me back to the twilight of a spring Sunday several years ago, when in
+the wake of a cluster of market folks we wandered into the old Cathedral
+of St. Denis. Deep in the sombre shadows of the crypt a light gleamed
+faintly through a narrow slit in the stone wall. Approaching, we looked
+into a gloomy vault wherein, just visible by the ray of a solitary
+candle, lay two zinc coffins.
+
+Earth holds no more dismal sepulchre than that dark vault, through the
+crevice in whose wall the blue-bloused marketers cast curious glances.
+Yet within these grim coffins lie two bodies with their severed heads,
+all that remains mortal of the haughty Marie Antoinette and other humble
+spouse.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Illumination]
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+THE PRISONERS RELEASED
+
+
+The first dread days, when the Boy, heavy with fever, seemed scarcely to
+realise our presence, were swiftly followed by placid hours when he lay
+and smiled in blissful content, craving nothing, now that we were all
+together again. But this state of beatitude was quickly ousted by a
+period of discontent, when the hunger fiend reigned supreme in the
+little room.
+
+"_Manger, manger, manger, tout le temps!"_ Thus the nurse epitomised the
+converse of her charges. And indeed she was right, for, from morning
+till night, the prisoners' solitary topic of conversation was food.
+During the first ten days their diet consisted solely of boiled milk,
+and as that time wore to a close the number of quarts consumed increased
+daily, until Paul, the chief porter, seemed ever ascending the little
+outside stair carrying full bottles of milk, or descending laden with
+empty ones.
+
+"Milk doesn't count. When shall we be allowed food, _real_ food?" was
+the constant cry, and their relief was abounding when, on Christmas Day,
+the doctor withdrew his prohibition, and permitted an approach to the
+desired solids. But even then the prisoners, to their loudly voiced
+disappointment, discovered that their only choice lay between vermicelli
+and tapioca, nursery dishes which at home they would have despised.
+
+"_Tapioca!_ Imagine tapioca for a Christmas dinner!" the invalids
+exclaimed with disgust. But that scorn did not prevent them devouring
+the mess and eagerly demanding more. And thereafter the saucepan
+simmering over the gas-jet in the outer room seemed ever full of savoury
+spoon-meat.
+
+I doubt if any zealous mother-bird ever had a busier time feeding her
+fledglings than had the good Sister in satisfying the appetites of these
+callow cormorants. To witness the French nun seeking to allay the hunger
+of these voracious schoolboy aliens was to picture a wren trying to fill
+the ever-gaping beaks of two young cuckoos whom an adverse fate had
+dropped into her nest.
+
+As the days wore by, the embargo placed upon our desire to cater for the
+invalids was gradually lifted, and little things such as sponge biscuits
+and pears crept in to vary the monotony of the milk diet.
+
+New Year's Day held a tangible excitement, for that morning saw a
+modified return to ordinary food, and, in place of bottles of milk,
+Paul's load consisted of such tempting selections from the school meals
+as were deemed desirable for the invalids. Poultry not being included in
+the school menus, we raided a cooked-provision shop and carried off a
+plump, well-browned chicken. The approbation which met this venture
+resulted in our supplying a succession of _poulettes_, which, at the
+invalids' express desire, were smuggled into their room under my cloak.
+Not that there was the most remote necessity for concealment, but the
+invalids, whose sole interest centred in food, laboured under the absurd
+idea that, did the authorities know they were being supplied from
+without, their regular meals would be curtailed to prevent them
+over-eating.
+
+The point of interest, for the Red-Cross prisoners at least, in our
+morning visits lay in the unveiling of the eatables we had brought.
+School food, however well arranged, is necessarily stereotyped, and the
+element of the unknown ever lurked in our packages. The sugar-sticks,
+chocolates, fruit, little cakes, or what we had chanced to bring, were
+carefully examined, criticised, and promptly devoured.
+
+A slight refreshment was served them during our short stay, and when we
+departed we left them eagerly anticipating luncheon. At gloaming, when
+we returned, it was to find them busy with half-yards of the long crusty
+loaves, plates of jelly, and tumblers, filled with milk on our Boy's
+part, and with well diluted wine on that of his fellow sufferer.
+
+Fear of starvation being momentarily averted, the Soeur used to light
+fresh candles around the tiny Holy _Bebe_ on the still green
+Christmas-tree, and for a space we sat quietly enjoying the radiance.
+But by the time the last candle had flickered out, and the glow of a
+commonplace paraffin lamp lighted the gloom, nature again demanded
+nourishment; and we bade the prisoners farewell for the night, happy in
+the knowledge that supper, sleep, and breakfast would pleasantly while
+away the hours till our return.
+
+The elder Red-Cross knight was a tall, good-looking lad of sixteen, the
+age when a boy wears painfully high collars, shaves surreptitiously--and
+unnecessarily--with his pen-knife, talks to his juniors about the
+tobacco he smokes in a week, and cherishes an undying passion for a
+maiden older than himself. He was ever an interesting study, though I do
+not think I really loved him until he confided his affairs of the heart,
+and entrusted me with the writing of his love-letters. I know that
+behind my back he invariably referred to me as "Ma"; but as he openly
+addressed the unconscious nun as "you giddy old girl," "Ma" might almost
+be termed respectful, and I think our regard was mutual.
+
+All things come to him who waits. There came a night when for the last
+time we sat together around the little tree, watching the Soeur light the
+candles that illuminated the Holy _Bebe_. On the morrow the prisoners,
+carefully disinfected, and bearing the order of their release in the
+form of a medical certificate, would be set free.
+
+It clouded our gladness to know that before the patient Sister stretched
+another period of isolation. Just that day another pupil had developed
+scarlet fever, and only awaited our boys' departure to occupy the little
+room. Hearing that this fresh prisoner lay under sentence of durance
+vile, we suggested that all the toys--chiefly remnants of shattered
+armies that, on hearing of the Boy's illness, we had brought from the
+home playroom he had outgrown--might be left for him instead of being
+sent away to be burnt.
+
+The Boy's bright face dulled. "If it had been anybody else! But, mother,
+I don't think you know that he is the one French boy we disliked. It was
+he who always shouted '_a bas les Anglais!_' in the playground."
+
+The reflection that for weary weeks this obnoxious boy would be the only
+inmate of the _boite_, as the invalids delighted to call their
+sick-room, overcame his antipathetic feeling, and he softened so far as
+to indite a polite little French note offering his late enemy his
+sympathy, and formally bequeathing to him the reversion of his toys,
+including the _arbre de Noel_ with all its decorations, except the
+little waxen Jesus nestling in the manger of yellow corn; the Soeur had
+already declared her intention of preserving that among her treasures.
+
+The time that had opened so gloomily had passed, and now that it was
+over we could look back upon many happy hours spent within the dingy
+prison walls. And our thoughts were in unison, for the Boy, abruptly
+breaking the silence, said: "And after all, it hasn't been such a bad
+time. Do you know, I really think I've rather enjoyed it!"
+
+
+
+
+L'ENVOI
+
+
+[Illustration: L'Envoi]
+
+Heavy skies lowered above us, the landscape seen through the driving
+mist-wreaths showed a depressing repetition of drabs and greys as we
+journeyed towards Calais. But, snugly ensconced in the _train rapide_,
+our hearts beat high with joy, for at last were we homeward bound. The
+weeks of exile in the stately old town had ended. For the last time the
+good Sister had lit us down the worn stone steps. As we sped seawards
+across the bleak country, our thoughts flew back to her, and to the
+little room with the red cross on its casement, wherein, although our
+prisoners were released, another term of nursing had already begun for
+her. In contrast with her life of cheerful self-abnegation, ours seemed
+selfish, meaningless, and empty.
+
+Dear nameless Sister! She had been an angel of mercy to us in a
+troublous time, and though our earthly paths may never again cross, our
+hearts will ever hold her memory sacred.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+_By the same Author_
+
+OUR STOLEN SUMMER
+
+THE RECORD OF A ROUNDABOUT TOUR
+
+BY
+
+MARY STUART BOYD
+
+WITH ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY SKETCHES BY A.S. BOYD
+
+_Extracts from Reviews_
+
+THE WORLD.--"To be able to go round the world nowadays, and write a
+descriptive record of the tour that is vivid and fresh is a positive
+literary feat. It has been successfully accomplished in _Our Stolen
+Summer_ by Mrs. Boyd, who with no ulterior object in making a book
+journeyed over four continents in company with her husband, and picked
+up _en route_ matter for one of the pleasantest, most humorous, and
+least pretentious books of travel we have read for many a day. It is
+admirably illustrated by Mr. A.S. Boyd, whose sense of humour happily
+matches that of his observant wife, and the reader who can lay aside
+this picturesque and truly delightful volume without sincere regret must
+have a dull and dreary mind."
+
+PUNCH.--"_Our Stolen Summer_ is calculated to lead to wholesale breakage
+of the Eighth Commandment. Certainly, my Baronite, reading the
+fascinating record of a roundabout tour, feels prompted to steal away.
+Mary Stuart Boyd, who pens the record, has the great advantage of the
+collaboration of A.S.B., whose signature is familiar in _Mr. Punch's_
+Picture Gallery.... A charming book."
+
+SPECTATOR.--"The writer, by the help of a ready pen and of the pencil of
+a skilful illustrator, has given us in this handsome volume a number of
+attractive pictures of distant places.... It is good to read and
+pleasant to look at."
+
+TRUTH.--"You will find no pleasanter holiday reading than _Our Stolen
+Summer_."
+
+ACADEMY.--"A fresh record, and worth the reading. Of such is Mrs. Boyd's
+volume, which her husband has illustrated profusely with spirited line
+drawings."
+
+FIELD.--"One of the brightest books of travel that it has been our good
+fortune to read. The illustrations deserve a notice to themselves. They
+are far and away better than those which we usually get in books of this
+kind, and we do not know that we can bestow higher praise on them than
+to say that they are worthy of the letterpress which they illustrate."
+
+LAND AND WATER.--"A delightful sketch of a delightful journey.... _Our
+Stolen Summer_ is a book which will be read with equal delight on a lazy
+summer holiday, or in the heart of London when the streets are enveloped
+in fog and the rain is beating against the window panes. Mr. Boyd's
+sketches are simply admirable."
+
+SPHERE.--"A delightful record of travel. Mrs. Boyd is never dull, and
+there is plenty of acute observation throughout her pleasant story of
+travel. My Boyd's illustrations which appear on practically every page,
+are, it need scarcely be said, up to the high level that is already
+familiar to students of his black-and-white work."
+
+LADIES' FIELD.--"A singularly delightful and unaffected book of travel."
+
+MADAME.--"One of the most delightful books of travel it has been our
+good fortune to read."
+
+MORNING POST.--"If the encouragement of globe-trotting be a virtuous
+action, then certainly Mrs. Stuart Boyd has deserved well of her
+country. To read her book is to conceive an insensate desire to be off
+and away on 'the long trail' at all hazards and at all costs.... Mr.
+Boyd's illustrations add greatly to the interest and charm of the book.
+There is movement, atmosphere, and sunshine in them."
+
+STANDARD.--"Mrs. Boyd went with her husband round the world, and the
+latter--an artist with a sense of humour--kept his hand in practice by
+making droll sketches of people encountered by the way, which heighten
+the charm of his wife's vivacious description of a _Stolen Summer_. Mrs.
+Boyd has quick eyes and an open mind, and writes with sense and
+sensibility."
+
+DAILY TELEGRAPH.--"It is not so much what Mrs. Boyd has to tell as the
+invariable good humour and brightness with which she records even the
+most familiar things that makes the charm of her excellent diary."
+
+DAILY CHRONICLE.--"Mrs. Boyd has written the log with sparkle and
+observation--seeing many things that the mere man-traveller would miss.
+Mr. Boyd's sketches are, of course, excellent."
+
+PALL MALL GAZETTE.--"Mrs. Boyd writes with so much buoyancy, and her
+humour is so unexpected and unfailing, that it is safe to say that there
+is not a dull page from first to last in this record of a tour round the
+world... Mr. A.S. Boyd's numerous illustrations show him at his very
+best."
+
+GLOBE.--"A work to acquire as well as to peruse."
+
+WESTMINSTER GAZETTE.--"The narrative from beginning to end does not
+contain a dull page. Of Mr. Boyd's numerous sketches it is only
+necessary to say that they are excellent. Altogether _Our Stolen Summer_
+will be found to be one of the most fascinating of recent books of
+travel."
+
+SUNDAY TIMES.--"Brilliantly and entertainingly written, and liberally
+illustrated by an acknowledged master of the art of black and white."
+
+SCOTSMAN.--"A beautiful and fascinating book.... Pen and pencil sketches
+alike have grace, nerve, and humour, and are alive with human interest
+and observation."
+
+GLASGOW HERALD.--"One of the most delightful travel-books of recent
+times.... Mrs. Boyd's volume must commend itself to people who
+contemplate visiting the other side of the globe and to all stay-at-home
+travellers as well."
+
+DAILY FREE PRESS.--"Mrs. Boyd is an admirable descriptive
+writer--observant, humorous, and sympathetic. Without illustrations,
+_Our Stolen Summer_ would be a notable addition to the literature of
+travel; with Mr. Boyd's collaboration it is almost unique."
+
+LEEDS MERCURY.--"Vivacious and diverting record."
+
+YORKSHIRE DAILY POST.--"For such a book there could be nothing but
+praise if one wrote columns about it."
+
+BIRMINGHAM DAILY POST.--"A singularly happy and interesting record of a
+most enjoyable tour."
+
+NORTHERN WHIG.--"Shrewdness of observation, with not a little humour and
+a real literary gift, mark the story of _Our Stolen Summer_."
+
+THE BOOKMAN.--"Mrs. Boyd writes with so much brightness, such vivacity
+and picturesqueness of style, that although the volume runs to close
+upon four hundred pages there is not a dull page among them. The success
+of _Our Stolen Summer_, however, is due as much to the artist as to the
+author; and praise must be equally divided. Mr. Boyd's sketches are
+spirited, clever, full of humour and sympathetic observation. Without a
+word of letter-press they would have formed an excellent travel-book;
+taken in conjunction with Mrs. Boyd's narrative they are irresistible."
+
+
+
+
+LONDON AND EDINBURGH: WILLIAM BLACKWOOD & SONS
+
+Illustrated by A.S. Boyd
+
+A LOWDEN SABBATH MORN
+
+BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON
+
+WITH TWENTY-SEVEN PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS BY A.S. BOYD
+
+_Extracts from Reviews_
+
+THE TIMES.--"The characters whom Stevenson had in his mind's eye are all
+cleverly pictured, and the drawings may be truthfully said to illustrate
+the writer's ideas--a quality that seldom resides in illustrations....
+All are faithfully presented as only one who has known them intimately
+could present them.... Mr. Boyd's talent for black-and-white work has
+never found happier expression."
+
+MORNING POST.--"It is impossible to imagine anything more likely to
+appeal to the sentiment of the Scottish people throughout the world than
+this series of pictures, instinct with the spirit of their land."
+
+DAILY TELEGRAPH.--"One of the happiest combinations of author and artist
+which has been seen of late years. Mr. Boyd has entered thoroughly into
+the spirit of the lines, and his figures are instinct with graceful
+humour."
+
+DAILY CHRONICLE.--"Mr. Boyd is to be congratulated (as R. L. S. would
+assuredly have granted) upon interpreting so vividly a notable feature
+in the national life of Scotland."
+
+ATHENAEUM.--"The task of illustrating Stevenson's verses was most
+difficult, because it demands from the artist knowledge of local
+circumstances and characteristic details. Mr. Boyd's success in making
+us see so plainly the moods and manners of the 'restin' ploughman' while
+he 'daundered' in his garden and 'raxed his limbs' is the more to be
+enjoyed and praised."
+
+PALL MALL GAZETTE.--"Followers of the master will appreciate this
+beautiful book for its accurate interpretation of the poem as well as
+for its excellent drawing."
+
+ST. JAMES'S GAZETTE.--"There is plenty of good Scotch character in the
+illustrations, and a quiet observation of the humours of a parish, with
+such annals as those recorded by Gait."
+
+ACADEMY.--"An attractive book."
+
+SATURDAY REVIEW.--"In saying therefore that Mr. Boyd's
+illustrations--there is a full page drawing for each verse--are not only
+worthy of the poem, but actually emphasise and define its merits, we
+give the book the highest possible praise. It is a volume which should
+be added to the library of every collector."
+
+SPECTATOR.--"These illustrations to Mr. Stevenson's Scots poem are
+distinctly clever, especially in their characterisation of the various
+attendants at the village kirk."
+
+SPEAKER.--"The book presents very vividly some of the aspects (both
+humorous and pathetic) of a Scottish rural lowland parish, and will
+doubtless touch a chord in the heart of Scotsmen throughout the world."
+
+OUTLOOK.--"Many of Mr. Stevenson's admirers the world over have long
+desired that such a classic poem should be faithfully and adequately
+illustrated, and they will give a hearty welcome to this most handsome
+quarto."
+
+SCOTSMAN.--"One way and another the book is wholly delightful."
+
+GLASGOW EVENING NEWS.--"Mr. Boyd's contributions to a volume which ought
+to be popular with Scots in every part of the world, are full of pawky
+humour, and their realism is so pronounced that we seem to have known
+the models in the life."
+
+DUNDEE ADVERTISER.--"This is a volume to be treasured alike for the sake
+of the poet, of the artist, and of that form of Scottish life which is
+rapidly disappearing before the march of progress."
+
+ARBROATH HERALD.--"Mr. Boyd has represented these pictures in line
+sketches, which are characterised at once by the strength and confidence
+of a masterful draughtsman and the insight of a keen observer of
+character, who has long been familiar with the types presented in
+Stevenson's poem."
+
+GOOD WORDS.--"Mr. Boyd has portrayed, with here and there a happy trait
+of grace or humour beyond the wording of the text, the very scene and
+people. Each of the illustrations has a charm and freshness of its own."
+
+ART JOURNAL.--"Mr. Boyd's knowledge of Lothian peasants and their
+manners is as complete as Stevenson's. His drawings place in pictorial
+view the poet's thoughts, while they greatly enhance the descriptions by
+emphasising what the writer rightly left vague."
+
+LONDON: CHATTO & WINDUS, III St. Martin's Lane
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's A Versailles Christmas-Tide, by Mary Stuart Boyd
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #10813 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/10813)
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+Project Gutenberg's A Versailles Christmas-Tide, by Mary Stuart Boyd
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Versailles Christmas-Tide
+
+Author: Mary Stuart Boyd
+
+Release Date: January 23, 2004 [EBook #10813]
+[Date last updated: December 22, 2004]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A VERSAILLES CHRISTMAS-TIDE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Karen Robinson, David Garcia and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+A VERSAILLES CHRISTMAS-TIDE
+
+By
+
+Mary Stuart Boyd
+
+With Fifty-three Illustrations by A.S. Boyd
+
+1901
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+     I. The Unexpected Happens
+    II. Ogams
+   III. The Town
+    IV. Our Arbre de No�l
+     V. Le Jour de l'Ann�e
+    VI. Ice-bound
+   VII. The Haunted Ch�teau
+  VIII. Marie Antoinette
+    IX. The Prisoners Released
+
+
+
+
+
+Illustrations
+
+The Summons
+Storm Warning
+Treasure Trove
+The Red Cross in the Window
+Enter M. le Docteur
+Perpetual Motion
+Ursa Major
+Meal Considerations
+The Two Colonels
+The Young and Brave
+Malcontent
+The Aristocrat
+Papa, Mama, et B�b�
+Juvenile Progress
+Automoblesse oblige
+Sable Garb
+A Football Team
+Mistress and Maid
+Sage and Onions
+Marketing
+Private Boxes
+A Foraging Party
+A Thriving Merchant
+Chestnuts in the Avenue
+The Tree Vendor
+The Tree Bearer
+Rosine
+Alms and the Lady
+Adoration
+Thankfulness
+One of the Devout
+De l'eau Chaude
+The Mill
+The Presbytery
+To the Place of Rest
+While the Frost Holds
+The Postman's Wrap
+A Lapful of Warmth
+The Daily Round
+Three Babes and a Bonne
+Snow in the Park
+A Veteran of the Ch�teau
+Un, Deux, Trois
+Bedchamber of Louis XIV
+Marie Leczinska
+Madame Adelaide
+Louis Quatorze
+Where the Queen Played
+Marie Antoinette
+The Secret Stair
+Madame sans T�te
+Illumination
+L'Envoi
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS
+
+
+[Illustration: The Summons]
+
+No project could have been less foreseen than was ours of wintering in
+France, though it must be confessed that for several months our thoughts
+had constantly strayed across the Channel. For the Boy was at school at
+Versailles, banished there by our desire to fulfil a parental duty.
+
+The time of separation had dragged tardily past, until one foggy
+December morning we awoke to the glad consciousness that that very
+evening the Boy would be with us again. Across the breakfast-table we
+kept saying to each other, "It seems scarcely possible that the Boy is
+really coming home to-night," but all the while we hugged the assurance
+that it was.
+
+The Boy is an ordinary snub-nosed, shock-headed urchin of thirteen, with
+no special claim to distinction save the negative one of being an only
+child. Yet without his cheerful presence our home seemed empty and dull.
+Any attempts at merry-making failed to restore its life. Now all was
+agog for his return. The house was in its most festive trim. Christmas
+presents were hidden securely away. There was rejoicing downstairs as
+well as up: the larder shelves were stored with seasonable fare, and
+every bit of copper and brass sparkled a welcome. Even the kitchen cat
+sported a ribbon, and had a specially energetic purr ready.
+
+Into the midst of our happy preparations the bad news fell with
+bomb-like suddenness. The messenger who brought the telegram whistled
+shrilly and shuffled a breakdown on the doorstep while he waited to hear
+if there was an answer.
+
+"He is ill. He can't come. Scarlet fever," one of us said in an odd,
+flat voice.
+
+"Scarlet fever. At school. Oh! when can we go to him? When is there a
+boat?" cried the other.
+
+There was no question of expediency. The Boy lay sick in a foreign land,
+so we went to him. It was full noon when the news came, and nightfall
+saw us dashing through the murk of a wild mid-December night towards
+Dover pier, feeling that only the express speed of the mail train was
+quick enough for us to breathe in.
+
+But even the most apprehensive of journeys may hold its humours. Just at
+the moment of starting anxious friends assisted a young lady into our
+carriage. "She was going to Marseilles. Would we kindly see that she got
+on all right?" We were only going as far as Paris direct. "Well, then,
+as far as Paris. It would be a great favour." So from Charing Cross to
+the Gare du Nord, Placidia, as we christened her, became our care.
+
+She was a large, handsome girl of about three-and-twenty. What was her
+reason for journeying unattended to Cairo we know not. Whether she ever
+reached her destination we are still in doubt, for a more complacently
+incapable damsel never went a-voyaging. The Saracen maiden who followed
+her English lover from the Holy Land by crying "London" and "� Becket"
+was scarce so impotent as Placidia; for any information the Saracen
+maiden had she retained, while Placidia naively admitted that she had
+already forgotten by which line of steamers her passage through the
+Mediterranean had been taken.
+
+Placidia had an irrational way of losing her possessions. While yet on
+her way to the London railway station she had lost her tam-o'-shanter.
+So perforce, she travelled in a large picture-hat which, although pretty
+and becoming, was hardly suitable headgear for channel-crossing in
+mid-winter.
+
+[Illustration: Storm Warning]
+
+It was a wild night; wet, with a rising north-west gale. Tarpaulined
+porters swung themselves on to the carriage-steps as we drew up at Dover
+pier, and warned us not to leave the train, as, owing to the storm, the
+Calais boat would be an hour late in getting alongside.
+
+The Ostend packet, lying beside the quay in full sight of the
+travellers, lurched giddily at her moorings. The fourth occupant of our
+compartment, a sallow man with yellow whiskers, turned green with
+apprehension. Not so Placidia. From amongst her chaotic hand-baggage she
+extracted walnuts and mandarin oranges, and began eating with an
+appetite that was a direct challenge to the Channel. Bravery or
+foolhardiness could go no farther.
+
+Providence tempers the wind to the parents who are shorn of their lamb.
+The tumult of waters left us scatheless, but poor Placidia early paid
+the penalty of her rashness. She "thought" she was a good sailor--though
+she acknowledged that this was her first sea-trip--and elected to remain
+on deck. But before the harbour lights had faded behind us a sympathetic
+mariner supported her limp form--the feathers of her incongruous hat
+drooping in unison with their owner--down the swaying cabin staircase
+and deposited her on a couch.
+
+"Oh! I do wish I hadn't eaten that fruit," she groaned when I offered
+her smelling-salts. "But then, you know, I was so hungry!"
+
+In the _train rapide_ a little later, Placidia, when arranging her wraps
+for the night journey, chanced, among the medley of her belongings, upon
+a missing boat-ticket whose absence at the proper time had threatened
+complications. She burst into good-humoured laughter at the discovery.
+"Why, here's the ticket that man made all the fuss about. I really
+thought he wasn't going to let me land till I found it. Now, I do wonder
+how it got among my rugs?"
+
+We seemed to be awake all night, staring with wide, unseeing eyes out
+into the darkness. Yet the chill before dawn found us blinking sleepily
+at a blue-bloused porter who, throwing open the carriage door, curtly
+announced that we were in Paris.
+
+Then followed a fruitless search for Placidia's luggage, a hunt which
+was closed by Placidia recovering her registration ticket (with a
+fragment of candy adhering to it) from one of the multifarious pockets
+of her ulster, and finding that the luggage had been registered on to
+Marseilles. "Will they charge duty on tobacco?" she inquired blandly, as
+she watched the Customs examination of our things. "I've such a lot of
+cigars in my boxes."
+
+There was an Old-Man-of-the-Sea-like tenacity in Placidia's smiling
+impuissance. She did not know one syllable of French. A new-born babe
+could not have revealed itself more utterly incompetent. I verily
+believe that, despite our haste, we would have ended by escorting
+Placidia across Paris, and ensconcing her in the Marseilles train, had
+not Providence intervened in the person of a kindly disposed polyglot
+traveller. So, leaving Placidia standing the picture of complacent
+fatuosity in the midst of a group consisting of this new champion and
+three porters, we sneaked away.
+
+[Illustration: Treasure Trove]
+
+Grey dawn was breaking as we drove towards St. Lazare Station, and the
+daily life of the city was well begun. Lights were twinkling in the dark
+interiors of the shops. Through the mysterious atmosphere figures loomed
+mistily, then vanished into the gloom. But we got no more than a vague
+impression of our surroundings. Throughout the interminable length of
+drive across the city, and the subsequent slow train journey, our
+thoughts were ever in advance.
+
+The tardy winter daylight had scarcely come before we were jolting in a
+_fiacre_ over the stony streets of Versailles. In the gutters, crones
+were eagerly rummaging among the dust heaps that awaited removal. In
+France no degradation attaches to open economies. Housewives on their
+way to fetch Gargantuan loaves or tiny bottles of milk for the matutinal
+_caf�-au-lait_ cast searching glances as they passed, to see if among
+the rubbish something of use to them might not be lurking. And at one
+alluring mound an old gentleman of absurdly respectable exterior
+perfunctorily turned over the scraps with the point of his cane.
+
+We had heard of a hotel, and the first thing we saw of it we liked. That
+was a pair of sabots on the mat at the foot of the staircase. Pausing
+only to remove the dust of travel, we set off to visit our son, walking
+with timorous haste along the grand old avenue where the school was
+situated. A little casement window to the left of the wide entrance-door
+showed a red cross. We looked at it silently, wondering.
+
+[Illustration: The Red Cross in the Window]
+
+In response to our ring the portal opened mysteriously at touch of the
+unseen concierge, and we entered. A conference with Monsieur le
+Directeur, kindly, voluble, tactfully complimentary regarding our
+halting French, followed. The interview over, we crossed the courtyard
+our hearts beating quickly. At the top of a little flight of worn stone
+steps was the door of the school hospital, and under the ivy-twined
+trellis stood a sweet-faced Franciscan Soeur, waiting to welcome us.
+
+[Illustration: Enter M. Le Docteur]
+
+Passing through a tiny outer room--an odd combination of dispensary,
+kitchen, and drawing-room with a red-tiled floor--we reached the
+sick-chamber, and saw the Boy. A young compatriot, also a victim of the
+disease, occupied another bed, but for the first moments we were
+oblivious of his presence. Raising his fever-flushed face from the
+pillows, the Boy eagerly stretched out his burning hands.
+
+"I heard your voices," his hoarse voice murmured contentedly, "and I
+knew _you_ couldn't be ghosts." Poor child! in the semidarkness of the
+lonely night-hours phantom voices had haunted him. We of the morning
+were real.
+
+The good Soeur buzzed a mild frenzy of "Il ne faut pas toucher" about
+our ears, but, all unheeding, we clasped the hot hands and crooned over
+him. After the dreary months of separation, love overruled wisdom. Mere
+prudence was not strong enough to keep us apart.
+
+Chief amongst the chaos of thoughts that had assailed us on the
+reception of the bad news, was the necessity of engaging an English
+medical man. But at the first sight of the French doctor, as, clad in a
+long overall of white cotton, he entered the sick-room, our insular
+prejudice vanished, ousted by complete confidence; a confidence that our
+future experience of his professional skill and personal kindliness only
+strengthened.
+
+It was with sore hearts that, the prescribed _cinq minutes_ ended, we
+descended the little outside stair. Still, we had seen the Boy; and
+though we could not nurse him, we were not forbidden to visit him. So we
+were thankful too.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+OGAMS
+
+
+[Illustration: Perpetual Motion]
+
+Our hotel was distinctively French, and immensely comfortable, in that
+it had gleaned, and still retained, the creature comforts of a century
+or two. Thus it combined the luxuries of hot-air radiators and electric
+light with the enchantment of open wood fires. Viewed externally, the
+building presented that airy aspect almost universal in Versailles
+architecture. It was white-tinted, with many windows shuttered without
+and heavily lace-draped within.
+
+A wide entrance led to the inner courtyard, where orange trees in green
+tubs, and trelliswork with shrivelled stems and leaves still adhering,
+suggested that it would be a pleasant summer lounge. Our hotel boasted a
+_grand salon_, which opened from the courtyard. It was an elaborately
+ornate room; but on a chilly December day even a plethora of
+embellishment cannot be trusted to raise by a single degree the
+temperature of the apartment it adorns, and the soul turns from a cold
+hearth, however radiant its garnish of artificial blossoms. A private
+parlour was scarcely necessary, for, with most French bedrooms, ours
+shared the composite nature of the accommodation known in a certain
+class of advertisement as "bed-sitting-room." So it was that during
+these winter days we made ourselves at home in our chamber.
+
+The shape of the room was a geometrical problem. The three windows each
+revealed different views, and the remainder of the walls curved
+amazingly. At first sight the furniture consisted mainly of draperies
+and looking-glass; for the room, though of ordinary dimensions, owned
+three large mirrors and nine pairs of curtains. A stately bed, endowed
+with a huge square down pillow, which served as quilt, stood in a
+corner. Two armchairs in brocaded velvet and a centre table were
+additions to the customary articles. A handsome timepiece and a
+quartette of begilt candelabra decked the white marble mantelpiece, and
+were duplicated in the large pier glass. The floor was of well-polished
+wood, a strip of bright-hued carpet before the bed, a second before the
+washstand, its only coverings. Need I say that the provision for
+ablutions was one basin and a liliputian ewer, and that there was not a
+fixed bath in the establishment?
+
+It was a resting-place full of incongruities; but apart from, or perhaps
+because of, its oddities it had a cosy attractiveness. From the moment
+of our entrance we felt at home. I think the logs that purred and
+crackled on the hearth had much to do with its air of welcome. There is
+a sense of companionship about a wood fire that more enduring coal
+lacks. Like a delicate child, the very care it demands nurtures your
+affection. There was something delightfully foreign and picturesque to
+our town ideas in the heap of logs that Karl carried up in a great
+_panier_ and piled at the side of the hearth. Even the little faggots of
+kindling wood, willow-knotted and with the dry copper-tinted leaves
+still clinging to the twigs, had a rustic charm.
+
+These were pleasant moments when, ascending from the chill outer air, we
+found our chamber aglow with ruddy firelight that glinted in the mirrors
+and sparkled on the shining surface of the polished floor; when we drew
+our chairs up to the hearth, and, scorning the electric light, revelled
+in the beauty of the leaping and darting flames.
+
+It was only in the _salle-�-manger_ that we saw the other occupants of
+the hotel; and when we learned that several of them had lived _en
+pension_ under the roof of the assiduous proprietor for periods varying
+from five to seven years, we felt ephemeral, mere creatures of a moment,
+and wholly unworthy of regard.
+
+[Illustration: Ursa Major]
+
+At eight o'clock Karl brought the _petit d�je�ner_ of coffee and rolls
+to our room. At eleven, our morning visit to the school hospital over,
+we breakfasted in the _salle-�-manger_, a large bright room, one or
+other of whose many south windows had almost daily, even in the depth of
+winter, to be shaded against the rays of the sun. Three chandeliers of
+glittering crystal starred with electric lights depended from the
+ceiling. Half a dozen small tables stood down each side; four larger
+ones occupied the centre of the floor, and were reserved for transient
+custom.
+
+The first thing that struck us as peculiar was that every table save
+ours was laid for a single person, with a half bottle of wine, red or
+white, placed ready, in accordance with the known preference of the
+expected guest. We soon gathered that several of the regular customers
+lodged outside and, according to the French fashion, visited the hotel
+for meals only. After the early days of keen anxiety regarding our
+invalid had passed, we began to study our fellow guests individually and
+to note their idiosyncrasies. Sitting at our allotted table during the
+progress of the leisurely meals, we used to watch as one _habitu�_ after
+another entered, and, hanging coat and hat upon certain pegs, sat
+silently down in his accustomed place, with an unvarying air of calm
+deliberation.
+
+Then Iorson, the swift-footed _gar�on_, would skim over the polished
+boards to the newcomer, and, tendering the menu, would wait, pencil in
+hand, until the guest, after careful contemplation, selected his five
+_plats_ from its comprehensive list.
+
+[Illustration: Meal Considerations]
+
+The most picturesque man of the company had white moustaches of
+surprising length. On cold days he appeared enveloped in a fur coat, a
+garment of shaggy brown which, in conjunction with his hirsute
+countenance, made his aspect suggest the hero in pantomime renderings of
+"Beauty and the Beast." But in our hotel there was no Beauty, unless
+indeed it were Yvette, and Yvette could hardly be termed beautiful.
+
+Yvette also lived outside. She did not come to _d�je�ner_, but every
+night precisely at a quarter-past seven the farther door would open, and
+Yvette, her face expressing disgust with the world and all the things
+thereof, would enter.
+
+Yvette was blonde, with neat little features, a pale complexion, and
+tiny hands that were always ringless. She rang the changes on half a
+dozen handsome cloaks of different degrees of warmth. To an intelligent
+observer their wear might have served as a thermometer. Yvette was
+_blas�e_, and her millinery was in sympathy with her feelings. Her hats
+had all a fringe of disconsolate feathers, whose melancholy plumage
+emphasised the downward curve of her mouth. To see Yvette enter from the
+darkness and, seating herself at her solitary table, droop over her
+plate as though there were nothing in Versailles worth sitting upright
+for, was to view _ennui_ personified.
+
+Yvette invariably drank white wine, and the food rarely pleased her. She
+would cast a contemptuous look over the menu offered by the deferential
+Henri, then turn wearily away, esteeming that no item on its length
+merited even her most perfunctory consideration. But after one or two
+despondent glances, Yvette ever made the best of a bad bargain, and
+ordered quite a comprehensive little dinner, which she ate with the same
+air of utter disdain. She always concluded by eating an orange dipped in
+sugar. Even had a special table not been reserved for her, one could
+have told where Yvette had dined by the bowl of powdered sugar, just as
+one could have located the man with the fierce moustaches and the fur
+coat by the presence of his pepper-mill, or the place of "Madame" from
+her prodigal habit of rending a quarter-yard of the crusty French bread
+in twain and consuming only the soft inside.
+
+From the ignorance of our cursory acquaintance we had judged the French
+a sociable nation. Our stay at Versailles speedily convinced us of the
+fallacy of that belief. Nothing could have impressed us so forcibly as
+did the frigid silence that characterised the company. Many of them had
+fed there daily for years, yet within the walls of the sunny dining-room
+none exchanged even a salutation. This unexpected taciturnity in a
+people whom we had been taught to regard as lively and voluble made us
+almost ashamed of our own garrulity, and when, in the presence of the
+silent company, we were tempted to exchange remarks, we found ourselves
+doing it in hushed voices as though we were in church.
+
+A clearer knowledge, however, showed us that though some unspoken
+convention rendered the hotel guests oblivious of each other's presence
+while indoors, beyond the hotel walls they might hold communion. Two
+retired military men, both wearing the red ribbon of the Legion of
+Honour, as indeed did most of our _habitu�s_, sat at adjacent tables.
+One, tall and thin, was a Colonel; the other, little and neat, a Colonel
+also. To the casual gaze they appeared complete strangers, and we had
+consumed many meals in their society before observing that whenever the
+tall Colonel had sucked the last cerise from his glass of _eau-de-vie_,
+and begun to fold his napkin--a formidable task, for the serviettes
+fully deserved the designation later bestowed on them by the Boy, of
+"young table-cloths"--the little Colonel made haste to fold his also.
+Both rose from their chairs at the same instant, and the twain, having
+received their hats from the attentive Iorson, vanished, still mute,
+into the darkness together.
+
+[Illustration: The Two Colonels]
+
+Once, to our consternation, the little Colonel replaced his napkin in
+its ring without waiting for the signal from the tall Colonel. But our
+apprehension that they, in their dealings in that mysterious outer world
+which twice daily they sought together, might have fallen into a
+difference of opinion was dispelled by the little Colonel, who had
+risen, stepping to his friend and holding out his hand. This the tall
+Colonel without withdrawing his eyes from _Le Journal des D�bats_ which
+he was reading, silently pressed. Then, still without a word spoken or a
+look exchanged, the little Colonel passed out alone.
+
+[Illustration: The Young and Brave]
+
+The average age of the Ogams was seventy. True, there was Dunois the
+Young and Brave, who could not have been more than forty-five. What his
+name really was we knew not, but something in his comparatively juvenile
+appearance among the chevaliers suggested the appellation which for lack
+of a better we retained. Dunois' youth might only be comparative, but
+his bravery was indubitable; for who among the Ogams but he was daring
+enough to tackle the _p�t�-de-foie-gras_, or the _abattis_, a stew
+composed of the gizzards and livers of fowls? And who but Dunois would
+have been so reckless as to follow baked mussels and _cr�pinettes_ with
+_rognons frits_?
+
+Dunois, too, revealed intrepid leanings toward strange liquors.
+Sometimes--it was usually at _d�je�ner_ when he had dined out on the
+previous evening--he would demand the wine-list of Iorson, and rejecting
+the _vin blanc_ or _vin rouge_ which, being _compris_, contented the
+others, would order himself something of a choice brand. One of his
+favourite papers was _Le Rire_, and Henri, Iorson's youthful assistant,
+regarded him with admiration.
+
+[Illustration: Malcontent]
+
+A less attractive presence in the dining-room was Madame. Madame, who
+was an elderly dame of elephantine girth, had resided in the hotel for
+half a dozen years, during which period her sole exercise had been taken
+in slowly descending from her chamber in the upper regions for her
+meals, and then, leisurely assimilation completed, in yet more slowly
+ascending. Madame's allotted seat was placed in close proximity to the
+hot-air register; and though Madame was usually one of the first to
+enter the dining-room, she was generally the last to leave. Madame's
+appetite was as animated as her body was lethargic. She always drank her
+half-bottle of red wine to the dregs, and she invariably concluded with
+a greengage in brandy. So it was small marvel that, when at last she
+left her chair to "tortoise" upstairs, her complexion should be two
+shades darker than when she descended.
+
+Five dishes, irrespective of _hors d'oeuvres_ at luncheon, and _potage_
+at dinner, were allowed each guest, and Madame's selection was an affair
+of time. Our hotel was justly noted for its _cuisine_, yet on infrequent
+occasions the food supplied to Madame was not to her mind. At these
+times the whole establishment suffered until the irascible old lady's
+taste was suited. One night at dinner Iorson had the misfortune to serve
+Madame with some turkey that failed to meet with her approval. With the
+air of an insulted empress, Madame ordered its removal. The conciliatory
+Iorson obediently carried off the dish and speedily returned, bearing
+what professed to be another portion. But from the glimpse we got as it
+passed our table we had a shrewd suspicion that Iorson the wily had
+merely turned over the piece of turkey and re-served it with a little
+more gravy and an additional dressing of _cressons_. Madame, it
+transpired, shared our suspicions, for this portion also she declined,
+with renewed indignation. Then followed a long period of waiting,
+wherein Madame, fidgeting restlessly on her seat, kept fierce eyes fixed
+on the door through which the viands entered.
+
+Just as her impatience threatened to vent itself in action, Iorson
+appeared bearing a third helping of turkey. Placing it before the irate
+lady, he fled as though determined to debar a third repudiation. For a
+moment an air of triumph pervaded Madame's features. Then she began to
+gesticulate violently, with the evident intention of again attracting
+Iorson's notice. But the forbearance even of the diplomatic Iorson was
+at an end. Re-doubling his attentions to the diners at the farther side
+of the room, he remained resolutely unconscious of Madame's signals,
+which were rapidly becoming frantic.
+
+The less sophisticated Henri, however, feeling a boyish interest in the
+little comedy, could not resist a curious glance in Madame's direction.
+That was sufficient. Waving imperiously, Madame compelled his approach,
+and, moving reluctantly, fearful of the issue, Henri advanced.
+
+"Couteau!" hissed Madame. Henri flew to fetch the desired implement,
+and, realising that Madame had at last been satisfied, we again breathed
+freely.
+
+A more attractive personage was a typical old aristocrat, officer of the
+Legion of Honour, who used to enter, walk with great dignity to his
+table, eat sparingly of one or two dishes, drink a glass of his _vin
+ordinaire_ and retire. Sometimes he was accompanied by a tiny spaniel,
+which occupied a chair beside him; and frequently a middle-aged son,
+whose bourgeois appearance was in amazing contrast to that of his
+refined old father, attended him.
+
+[Illustration: The Aristocrat]
+
+There were others, less interesting perhaps, but equally self-absorbed.
+One afternoon, entering the cable car that runs--for fun, apparently, as
+it rarely boasted a passenger--to and from the Trianon, we recognised in
+its sole occupant an Ogam who during the weeks of our stay had eaten, in
+evident oblivion of his human surroundings, at the table next to ours.
+Forgetting that we were without the walls of silence, we expected no
+greeting; but to our amazement he rose, and, placing himself opposite
+us, conversed affably and in most excellent English for the rest of the
+journey. To speak with him was to discover a courteous and travelled
+gentleman. Yet during our stay in Versailles we never knew him exchange
+even a bow with any of his fellow Ogams, who were men of like
+qualifications, though, as he told us, he had taken his meals in the
+hotel for over five years.
+
+Early in the year our peace was rudely broken by the advent of a
+commercial man--a short, grey-haired being of an activity so foreign to
+our usage that a feeling of unrest was imparted to the _salle-�-manger_
+throughout his stay. His movements were distractingly erratic. In his
+opinion, meals were things to be treated casually, to be consumed
+haphazard at any hour that chanced to suit. He did not enter the
+dining-room at the exact moment each day as did the Ogams. He would rush
+in, throw his hat on a peg, devour some food with unseemly haste, and
+depart in less time than it took the others to reach the _l�gumes_.
+
+[Illustration: Papa, Mama et B�b�]
+
+He was hospitable too, and had a disconcerting way of inviting guests to
+luncheon or dinner, and then forgetting that he had done so. One morning
+a stranger entered, and after a brief conference with Iorson, was
+conducted to the commercial man's table to await his arrival. The
+regular customers took their wonted places, and began in their leisurely
+fashion to breakfast, and still the visitor sat alone, starting up
+expectantly every time a door opened, then despondently resuming his
+seat.
+
+At last Iorson, taking compassion, urged the neglected guest to while
+away his period of waiting by trifling with the _hors-d'oeuvres_. He was
+proceeding to allay the pangs of hunger with selections from the tray of
+anchovies, sardines, pickled beet, and sliced sausage, when his host
+entered, voluble and irrepressible as ever. The dignified Ogams
+shuddered inwardly as his strident voice awoke the echoes of the room,
+and their already stiff limbs became rigid with disapproval.
+
+In winter, transient visitors but rarely occupied one or other of the
+square centre tables, though not infrequently a proud father and mother
+who had come to visit a soldier son at the barracks, brought him to the
+hotel for a meal, and for a space the radiance of blue and scarlet and
+the glint of steel cast a military glamour over the staid company.
+
+An amusing little circumstance to us onlookers was that although the
+supply of cooked food seemed equal to any demand, the arrival of even a
+trio of unexpected guests to dinner invariably caused a dearth of bread.
+For on their advent Iorson would dash out bareheaded into the night, to
+reappear in an incredibly short time carrying a loaf nearly as tall as
+himself.
+
+One morning a stalwart young Briton brought to breakfast a pretty
+English cousin, on leave of absence from her boarding-school. His
+knowledge of French was limited. When anything was wanted he shouted
+"Gar�on!" in a lordly voice, but it was the pretty cousin who gave the
+order. _D�je�ner_ over, they departed in the direction of the Ch�teau.
+And at sunset as we chanced to stroll along the Boulevard de la Reine,
+we saw the pretty cousin, all the gaiety fled from her face, bidding her
+escort farewell at the gate of a Pension pour Demoiselles. The ball was
+over. Poor little Cinderella was perforce returning to the dust and
+ashes of learning.
+
+[Illustration: Juvenile Progress]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE TOWN
+
+
+The English-speaking traveller finds Versailles vastly more foreign than
+the Antipodes. He may voyage for many weeks, and at each distant
+stopping-place find his own tongue spoken around him, and his
+conventions governing society. But let him leave London one night, cross
+the Channel at its narrowest--and most turbulent--and sunrise will find
+him an alien in a land whose denizens differ from him in language,
+temperament, dress, food, manners, and customs.
+
+Of a former visit to Versailles we had retained little more than the
+usual tourist's recollection of a hurried run through a palace of
+fatiguing magnificence, a confusing peep at the Trianons, a glance
+around the gorgeous state equipages, an unsatisfactory meal at one of
+the open-air _caf�s_, and a scamper back to Paris. But our winter
+residence in the quaint old town revealed to us the existence of a life
+that is all its own--a life widely variant, in its calm repose, from the
+bustle and gaiety of the capital, but one that is replete with charm,
+and abounding in picturesque-interest.
+
+[Illustration: Automoblesse Oblige]
+
+Versailles is not ancient; it is old, completely old. Since the fall of
+the Second Empire it has stood still. Most of the clocks have run down,
+as though they realised the futility of trying to keep pace with the
+rest of the world. The future merges into the present, the present fades
+into the past, and still the clocks of Versailles point to the same long
+eventide.
+
+[Illustration: Sable Garb]
+
+The proximity of Paris is evinced only by the vividly tinted automobiles
+that make Versailles their goal. Even they rarely tarry in the old town,
+but, turning at the Ch�teau gates, lose no time in retracing their
+impetuous flight towards a city whose usages accord better with their
+creed of feverish hurry-scurry than do the conventions of reposeful
+Versailles. And these fiery chariots of modernity, with their ghoulish,
+fur-garbed, and hideously spectacled occupants, once their raucous,
+cigale-like birr-r-r has died away in the distance, leave infinitely
+less impression on the placid life of Versailles than do their wheels on
+the roads they traverse. Under the grand trees of the wide avenues the
+townsfolk move quietly about, busying themselves with their own affairs
+and practising their little economies as they have been doing any time
+during the last century.
+
+Perhaps it was the emphatic and demonstrative nature of the mourning
+worn that gave us the idea that the better-class female population of
+Versailles consisted chiefly of widows. When walking abroad we seemed
+incessantly to encounter widows: widows young and old, from the aged to
+the absurdly immature. It was only after a period of bewilderment that
+it dawned upon us that the sepulchral garb and heavy crape veils
+reaching from head to heel were not necessarily the emblems of
+widowhood, but might signify some state of minor bereavement. In Britain
+a display of black such as is an everyday sight at Versailles is
+undreamt of, and one saw more crape veils in a day in Versailles than in
+London in a week. Little girls, though their legs might be uncovered,
+had their chubby features shrouded in disfiguring gauze and to our
+unaccustomed foreign eyes a genuine widow represented nothing more
+shapely than a more or less stubby pillar festooned with crape.
+
+But for an inborn conviction that a frugal race like the French would
+not invest in a plethora of mourning garb only to cast it aside after a
+few months' wear, and that therefore the period of wearing the willow
+must be greatly protracted, we would have been haunted by the idea that
+the adult male mortality of Versailles was enormous.
+
+"Do they wear such deep mourning for all relatives?" I asked our hotel
+proprietor, who had just told us that during the first month of mourning
+the disguising veils were worn over the faces.
+
+Monsieur shook his sleek head gravely, "But no, Madame, not for all. For
+a husband, yes; for a father or mother, yes; for a sister or brother, an
+uncle or aunt, yes; but for a cousin, _no_."
+
+He pronounced the _no_ so emphatically as almost to convince us of his
+belief that in refusing to mourn in the most lugubrious degree for
+cousins the Versaillese acted with praiseworthy self-denial.
+
+There seemed to be no medium between sackcloth and gala-dress. We seldom
+noted the customary degrees of half-mourning. Plain colours were
+evidently unpopular and fancy tartans of the most flamboyant hues
+predominated amongst those who, during a spell of, say, three years had
+been fortunate enough not to lose a parent, sister, brother, uncle, or
+aunt. A perfectly natural reaction appeared to urge the _ci-devant_
+mourners to robe themselves in lively checks and tartans. It was as
+though they said--"Here at last is our opportunity for gratifying our
+natural taste in colours. It will probably be of but short duration.
+Therefore let us select a combination of all the most brilliant tints
+and wear them, for who knows how soon that gruesome pall of woe may
+again enshroud us."
+
+Probably it was the vicinity of our hotel to the Church of Notre Dame
+that, until we discovered its brighter side, led us to esteem Versailles
+a veritable city of the dead, for on our bi-daily walks to visit the
+invalids we were almost certain to encounter a funeral procession either
+approaching or leaving Notre Dame. And on but rare occasions was the
+great central door undraped with the sepulchral insignia which
+proclaimed that a Mass for the dead was in prospect or in progress.
+Sometimes the sable valance and porti�res were heavily trimmed and
+fringed with silver; at others there was only the scantiest display of
+time-worn black cloth.
+
+[Illustration: A Football Team]
+
+The humblest funeral was affecting and impressive. As the sad little
+procession moved along the streets--the wayfarers reverently uncovering
+and soldiers saluting as it passed--the dirge-like chant of the
+_Miserere_ never failed to fill my eyes with unbidden tears of sympathy
+for the mourners, who, with bowed heads, walked behind the wreath-laden
+hearse.
+
+Despite the abundant emblems of woe, Versailles can never appear other
+than bright and attractive. Even in mid-winter the skies were clear, and
+on the shortest days the sun seldom forgot to cast a warm glow over the
+gay, white-painted houses. And though the women's dress tends towards
+depression, the brilliant military uniforms make amends. There are
+12,000 soldiers stationed in Versailles; and where a fifth of the
+population is gorgeous in scarlet and blue and gold, no town can be
+accused of lacking colour.
+
+Next to the redundant manifestations of grief, the thing that most
+impressed us was the rigid economy practised in even the smallest
+details of expenditure. Among the lower classes there is none of that
+aping of fashion so prevalent in prodigal England; the different social
+grades have each a distinctive dress and are content to wear it. Among
+the men, blouses of stout blue cotton and sabots are common. Sometimes
+velveteen trousers, whose original tint years of wear have toned to some
+exquisite shade of heliotrope, and a russet coat worn with a fur cap and
+red neckerchief, compose an effect that for harmonious colouring would
+be hard to beat. The female of his species, as is the case in all
+natural animals, is content to be less adorned. Her skirt is black, her
+apron blue. While she is young, her neatly dressed hair, even in the
+coldest weather, is guiltless of covering. As her years increase she
+takes her choice of three head-dresses, and to shelter her grey locks
+selects either a black knitted hood, a checked cotton handkerchief, or a
+white cap of ridiculously unbecoming design.
+
+No French workaday father need fear that his earnings will be squandered
+on such perishable adornments as feathers, artificial flowers, or
+ribbons. The purchases of his spouse are certain to be governed by
+extreme frugality. She selects the family raiment with a view to
+durability. Flimsy finery that the sun would fade, shoddy materials that
+a shower of rain would ruin, offer no temptations to her. When she
+expends a few _sous_ on the cutting of her boy's hair, she has it
+cropped until his cranium resembles the soft, furry skin of a mole, thus
+rendering further outlay in this respect unlikely for months. And when
+she buys a flannel shirt, a six-inch strip of the stuff, for future
+mending, is always included in the price.
+
+But with all this economy there is an air of comfort, a complete absence
+of squalor. In cold weather the school-girls wear snug hoods, or little
+fur turbans; and boys have the picturesque and almost indestructible
+b�rets of cloth or corduroy. Cloth boots that will conveniently slip
+inside sabots for outdoor use are greatly in vogue, and the comfortable
+Capuchin cloaks--whose peaked hood can be drawn over the head, thus
+obviating the use of umbrellas--are favoured by both sexes and all ages.
+
+[Illustration: Mistress and Maid]
+
+As may be imagined, little is spent on luxuries. Vendors of frivolities
+know better than to waste time tempting those provident people. On one
+occasion only did I see money parted with lightly, and in that case the
+bargain appeared astounding. One Sunday morning an enterprising huckster
+of gimcrack jewellery, venturing out from Paris, had set down his strong
+box on the verge of the market square, and, displaying to the admiring
+eyes of the country folks, ladies' and gentlemen's watches with chains
+complete, in the most dazzling of aureate metal, sold them at six sous
+apiece as quickly as he could hand them out.
+
+Living is comparatively cheap in Versailles; though, as in all places
+where the cost of existence is low, it must be hard to earn a livelihood
+there. By far the larger proportion of the community reside in flats,
+which can be rented at sums that rise in accordance with the
+accommodation but are in all cases moderate. Housekeeping in a flat,
+should the owner so will it, is ever conducive to economy, and life in a
+French provincial town is simple and unconventional.
+
+[Illustration: Sage and Onions]
+
+Bread, wine, and vegetables, the staple foods of the nation, are good
+and inexpensive. For 40 centimes one may purchase a bottle of _vin de
+gard_, a thin tipple, doubtless; but what kind of claret could one buy
+for fourpence a quart at home? _Graves_ I have seen priced at 50
+centimes, _Barsac_ at 60, and _eau de vie_ is plentiful at 1 franc 20!
+
+Fish are scarce, and beef is supposed to be dear; but when butter, eggs,
+and cheese bulk so largely in the diet, the half chicken, the scrap of
+tripe, the slice of garlic sausage, the tiny cut of beef for the
+_ragout_, cannot be heavy items. Everything eatable is utilised, and
+many weird edibles are sold; for the French can contrive tasty dishes
+out of what in Britain would be thrown aside as offal.
+
+On three mornings a week--Sunday, Tuesday, and Friday--the presence of
+the open-air market rouses Versailles from her dormouse-like slumber and
+galvanises her into a state of activity that lasts for several hours.
+Long before dawn, the roads leading townwards are busy with all manner
+of vehicles, from the great waggon drawn by four white horses driven
+tandem, and laden with a moving stack of hay, to the ramshackle
+donkey-cart conveying half a score of cabbages, a heap of dandelions
+grubbed from the meadows, and the owner.
+
+[Illustration: Marketing]
+
+By daybreak the market square under the leafless trees presents a lively
+scene. There are stalls sacred to poultry, to butter, eggs, and cheese;
+but the vegetable kingdom predominates. Flanked by bulwarks of greens
+and bundles of leeks of incredible whiteness and thickness of stem, sit
+the saleswomen, their heads swathed in gay cotton kerchiefs, and the
+ground before them temptingly spread with little heaps of corn salad, of
+chicory, and of yellow endive placed in adorable contrast to the scarlet
+carrots, blood-red beetroot, pinky-fawn onions, and glorious orange-hued
+pumpkins; while ready to hand are measures of white or mottled haricot
+beans, of miniature Brussels sprouts, and of pink or yellow potatoes, an
+esculent that in France occupies a very unimportant place compared with
+that it holds amongst the lower classes in Britain.
+
+[Illustration: Private Boxes]
+
+In Versailles Madame does her own marketing, her maid--in sabots and
+neat but usually hideous cap--accompanying her, basket laden. From stall
+to stall Madame passes, buying a roll of creamy butter wrapped in fresh
+leaves here, a fowl there, some eggs from the wrinkled old dame who
+looks so swart and witch-like in contrast to her stock of milk-white
+eggs.
+
+Madame makes her purchases judiciously--time is not a valuable commodity
+in Versailles--and finishes, when the huge black basket is getting heavy
+even for the strong arms of the squat little maid, by buying a mess of
+cooked spinach from the pretty girl whose red hood makes a happy spot of
+colour among the surrounding greenery, and a measure of onions from the
+profound-looking sage who garners a winter livelihood from the summer
+produce of his fields.
+
+[Illustration: A Foraging Party]
+
+Relations with uncooked food are, in Versailles, distinguished by an
+unwonted intimacy. No one, however dignified his station or appearance,
+is ashamed of purchasing the materials for his dinner in the open
+market, or of carrying them home exposed to the view of the world
+through the transpicuous meshes of a string bag. The portly gentleman
+with the fur coat and waxed moustaches, who looks a general at least,
+and is probably a tram-car conductor, bears his bunch of turnips with an
+air that dignifies the office, just as the young sub-lieutenant in the
+light blue cloak and red cap and trousers carries his mother's apples
+and lettuces without a thought of shame. And it is easy to guess the
+nature of the _d�je�ner_ of this _simple soldat_ from the long loaf, the
+bottle of _vin ordinaire_, and the onions that form the contents of his
+net. In the street it was a common occurrence to encounter some
+non-commissioned officer who, entrusted with the catering for his mess,
+did his marketing accompanied by two underlings, who bore between them
+the great open basket destined to hold his purchases.
+
+[Illustration: A Thriving Merchant]
+
+A picturesque appearance among the hucksters of the market square is the
+_bo�te de carton_ seller. Blue-bloused, with his stock of lavender or
+brown bandboxes strapped in a cardboard Tower of Pisa on his back, he
+parades along, his wares finding ready sale; for his visits are
+infrequent, and if one does not purchase at the moment, as does Madame,
+the opportunity is gone.
+
+The spirit of camaraderie is strong amongst the good folks of the
+market. One morning the Artist had paused a moment to make a rough
+sketch of a plump, affable man who, shadowed by the green cotton awning
+of his stall, was selling segments of round flat cheeses of goat's milk;
+vile-smelling compounds that, judged from their outer coating of
+withered leaves, straw, and dirt, would appear to have been made in a
+stable and dried on a rubbish heap. The subject of the jotting, busy
+with his customers, was all unconscious; but an old crone who sat, her
+feet resting on a tiny charcoal stove, amidst a circle of decadent
+greens, detecting the Artist's action, became excited, and after eyeing
+him uneasily for a moment, confided her suspicions as to his ulterior
+motive to a round-faced young countryman who retailed flowers close by.
+He, recognising us as customers--even then we were laden with his
+violets and mimosa--merely smiled at her concern. But his apathy only
+served to heighten Madame's agitation. She was unwilling to leave her
+snug seat yet felt that her imperative duty lay in acquainting Monsieur
+du Fromage with the inexplicable behaviour of the inquisitive foreigner.
+But the nefarious deed was already accomplished, and as we moved away
+our last glimpse was of the little stove standing deserted, while Madame
+hastened across the street in her clattering sabots to warn her friend.
+
+The bustle of the market is soon ended. By ten o'clock the piles of
+vegetables are sensibly diminished. By half-past ten the white-capped
+maid-servants have carried the heavy baskets home, and are busy
+preparing lunch. At eleven o'clock the sharp boy whose stock-in-trade
+consisted of three trays of snails stuffed _� la_ Bourgogne has sold all
+the large ones at 45 centimes a dozen, all the small at 25, and quite
+two-thirds of the medium-sized at 35 centimes.
+
+The clock points to eleven. The sun is high now. The vendors awaken to
+the consciousness of hunger, and Madame of the _pommes frites_ stall,
+whose assistant dexterously cuts the peeled tubers into strips, is fully
+occupied in draining the crisp golden shreds from the boiling fat and
+handing them over, well sprinkled with salt and pepper, to avid
+customers, who devour them smoking hot, direct from their paper
+cornucopias.
+
+Long before the first gloom of the early mid-winter dusk, all has been
+cleared away. The rickety stalls have been demolished; the unsold
+remainder of the goods disposed of; the worthy country folks, their
+pockets heavy with _sous_, are well on their journey homewards, and only
+a litter of straw, of cabbage leaves and leek tops remains as evidence
+of the lively market of the morning.
+
+[Illustration: Chestnuts in the Avenue]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+OUR ARBRE DE NO�L
+
+
+We bought it on the Sunday morning from old Grand'mere Gomard in the
+Avenue de St. Cloud.
+
+It was not a noble specimen of a Christmas-tree. Looked at with cold,
+unimaginative eyes, it might have been considered lopsided; undersized
+it undoubtedly was. Yet a pathetic familiarity in the desolate aspect of
+the little tree aroused our sympathy as no rare horticultural trophy
+ever could.
+
+Some Christmas fairy must have whispered to Grand'mere to grub up the
+tiny tree and to include it in the stock she was taking into Versailles
+on the market morning. For there it was, its roots stuck securely into a
+big pot, looking like some forlorn forest bantling among the garden
+plants.
+
+[Illustration: The Tree Vendor]
+
+Grand'mere Gomard had established herself in a cosy nook at the foot of
+one of the great leafless trees of the Avenue. Straw hurdles were
+cunningly arranged to form three sides of a square, in whose midst she
+was seated on a rush-bottomed chair, like a queen on a humble throne.
+Her head was bound by a gaily striped kerchief, and her feet rested
+snugly on a charcoal stove. Her merchandise, which consisted of half a
+dozen pots of pink and white primulas, a few spotted or crimson
+cyclamen, sundry lettuce and cauliflower plants, and some roots of
+pansies and daisies, was grouped around her.
+
+[Illustration: The Tree-Bearer]
+
+The primulas and cyclamen, though their pots were shrouded in pinafores
+of white paper skilfully calculated to conceal any undue lankiness of
+stem, left us unmoved. But the sight of the starveling little fir tree
+reminded us that in the school hospital lay two sick boys whose roseate
+dreams of London and holidays had suddenly changed to the knowledge that
+weeks of isolation and imprisonment behind the window-blind with the red
+cross lay before them. If we could not give them the longed-for home
+Christmas, we could at least give them a Christmas-tree.
+
+The sight of foreign customers for Grand'mere Gomard speedily collected
+a small group of interested spectators. A knot of children relinquished
+their tantalising occupation of hanging round the pan of charcoal over
+whose glow chestnuts were cracking appetisingly, and the stall of the
+lady who with amazing celerity fried pancakes on a hot plate, and sold
+them dotted with butter and sprinkled with sugar to the lucky possessors
+of a _sou_. Even the sharp urchin who presided over the old red
+umbrella, which, reversed, with the ferule fixed in a cross-bar of wood,
+served as a receptacle for sheets of festive note-paper embellished with
+lace edges and further adorned with coloured scraps, temporarily
+entrusting a juvenile sister with his responsibilities, added his
+presence to our court.
+
+[Illustration: Rosine]
+
+Christmas-trees seemed not to be greatly in demand in Versailles, and
+many were the whispered communings as to what _les Anglais_ proposed
+doing with the tree after they had bought it. When the transaction was
+completed and Grand'mere Gomard had exchanged the tree, with a sheet of
+_La Patrie_ wrapped round its pot, for a franc and our thanks, the
+interest increased. We would require some one to carry our purchase, and
+each of the bright-eyed, short-cropped Jeans and Pierres was eager to
+offer himself. But our selection was already made. A slender boy in a
+_b�ret_ and black pinafore, who had been our earliest spectator, was
+singled out and entrusted with the conveyance of the _arbre de No�l_ to
+our hotel.
+
+The fact that it had met with approbation appeared to encourage the
+little tree. The change may have been imaginary, but from the moment it
+passed into our possession the branches seemed less despondent, the
+needles more erect.
+
+"Will you put toys on it?" the youthful porter asked suddenly.
+
+"Yes; it is for a sick boy--a boy who has fever. Have you ever had an
+_arbre de No�l_?"
+
+"_Jamais_," was his conclusive reply: the tone thereof suggesting that
+that was a felicity quite beyond the range of possibility.
+
+The tree secured, there began the comparatively difficult work of
+finding the customary ornaments of glass and glitter to deck it. A
+fruitless search had left us almost in despair, when, late on Monday
+afternoon, we joyed to discover miniature candles of red, yellow, and
+blue on the open-air stall in front of a toy-store. A rummage in the
+interior of the shop procured candle clips, and a variety of glittering
+bagatelles. Laden with treasure, we hurried back to the hotel, and began
+the work of decoration in preparation for the morning.
+
+During its short stay in our room at the hotel, the erstwhile despised
+little tree met with an adulation that must have warmed the heart within
+its rough stem. When nothing more than three coloured glass globes, a
+gilded walnut, and a gorgeous humming-bird with wings and tail of spun
+glass had been suspended by narrow ribbon from its branches, Rosine, the
+pretty Swiss chambermaid, chancing to enter the room with letters, was
+struck with admiration and pronounced it "tr�s belle!"
+
+And Karl bringing in a fresh _panier_ of logs when the adorning was
+complete, and silly little delightful baubles sparkled and twinkled from
+every spray, putting down his burden, threw up his hands in amazement
+and declared the _arbre de No�l_ "magnifique!"
+
+This alien Christmas-tree had an element all its own. When we were
+searching for knick-knacks the shops were full of tiny Holy Babes lying
+cradled in waxen innocence in mangers of yellow corn. One of these
+little effigies we had bought because they pleased us. And when, the
+decoration of the tree being nearly finished, the tip of the centre stem
+standing scraggily naked called for covering, what more fitting than
+that the dear little Sacred _B�b�_ in his nest of golden straw should
+have the place of honour?
+
+It was late on Christmas Eve before our task was ended. But next morning
+when Karl, carrying in our _petit d�je�ner_, turned on the electric
+light, and our anxious gaze sought our work, we found it good.
+
+Then followed a hurried packing of the loose presents; and, a _fiacre_
+having been summoned, the tree which had entered the room in all
+humility passed out transmogrified beyond knowledge. Rosine, duster in
+hand, leant over the banisters of the upper landing to watch its
+descent. Karl saw it coming and flew to open the outer door for its
+better egress. Even the stout old driver of the red-wheeled cab creaked
+cumbrously round on his box to look upon its beauties.
+
+[Illustration: Alms and the Lady]
+
+The Market was busy in the square as we rattled through. From behind
+their battlemented wares the country mice waged wordy war with the town
+mice over the price of merchandise. But on this occasion we were too
+engrossed to notice a scene whose picturesque humour usually fascinated
+us, for as the carriage jogged over the rough roads the poor little
+_arbre de No�l_ palpitated convulsively. The gewgaws clattered like
+castanets, as though in frantic expostulation, and the radiant
+spun-glass humming-birds quivered until we expected them to break from
+their elastic fetters and fly away. The green and scarlet one with the
+gold-flecked wings fell on the floor and rolled under the seat just as
+the cab drew up at the great door of the school.
+
+The two Red-Cross prisoners who, now that the dominating heat of fever
+had faded, were thinking wistfully of the forbidden joys of home, had no
+suspicion of our intention, and we wished to surprise them. So, burdened
+with our treasure, we slipped in quietly.
+
+From her lodge window the concierge nodded approval. And at the door of
+the hospital the good Soeur received us, a flush of pleasure glorifying
+her tranquil face.
+
+Then followed a moment wherein the patients were ordered to shut their
+eyes, to reopen them upon the vision splendid of the _arbre de No�l_.
+Perhaps it was the contrast to the meagre background of the tiny
+school-hospital room, with its two white beds and bare walls, but,
+placed in full view on the centre table, the tree was almost imposing.
+Standing apart from Grand'mere's primulas and cyclamen as though,
+conscious of its own inferiority, it did not wish to obtrude, it had
+looked dejected, miserable. During its sojourn at the hotel the
+appreciation of its meanness had troubled us. But now, in the shabby
+little chamber, where there were no rival attractions to detract from
+its glory, we felt proud of it. It was just the right size for the
+surroundings. A two-franc tree, had Grand'mere possessed one, would have
+been Brobdignagian and pretentious.
+
+[Illustration: Adoration]
+
+A donor who is handicapped by the knowledge that the gifts he selects
+must within a few weeks be destroyed by fire, is rarely lavish in his
+outlay. Yet our presents, wrapped in white paper and tied with blue
+ribbons, when arranged round the flower-pot made a wonderful show, There
+were mounted Boers who, when you pressed the ball at the end of the
+air-tube, galloped in a wobbly, uncertain fashion. The invalids had good
+fun later trying races with them, and the Boy professed to find that his
+Boer gained an accelerated speed when he whispered "Bobs" to him. There
+were tales of adventure and flasks of eau-de-Cologne and smart virile
+pocket-books, one red morocco, the other blue. We regretted the
+pocket-books; but their possession made the recipients who, boylike,
+took no heed for the cleansing fires of the morrow, feel grown-up at
+once. And they yearned for the advent of the first day of the year, that
+they might begin writing in their new diaries. For the Sister there was
+a miniature gold consecrated medal. It was a small tribute of our
+esteem, but one that pleased the devout recipient.
+
+[Illustration: Thankfulness]
+
+Suspended among the purely ornamental trinkets of the tree hung tiny net
+bags of crystallised violets and many large chocolates rolled up in
+silver paper. The boys, who had subsisted for several days on nothing
+more exciting than boiled milk, openly rejoiced when they caught sight
+of the sweets. But to her patients' disgust, the Soeur, who had a pretty
+wit of her own, promptly frustrated their intentions by counting the
+dainties.
+
+"I count the chocolates. They are good boys, wise boys, honest boys, and
+I have every confidence in them, but--I count the chocolates!" said the
+Soeur.
+
+[Illustration: One of the Devout]
+
+As we passed back along the Rue de la Paroisse, worshippers were
+flocking in and out of Notre Dame, running the gauntlet of the unsavoury
+beggars who, loudly importunate, thronged the portals. Before the quiet
+nook wherein, under a gold-bestarred canopy, was the tableau of the
+Infant Jesus in the stable, little children stood in wide-eyed
+adoration, and older people gazed with mute devotion.
+
+Some might deem the little spectacle theatrical, and there was a slight
+irrelevance in the pot-plants that were grouped along the foreground,
+but none could fail to be impressed by the silent reverence of the
+congregation. No service was in process, yet many believers knelt at
+prayer. Here a pretty girl returned thanks for evident blessings
+received; there an old spinster, the narrowness of whose means forbade
+her expending a couple of sous on the hire of a chair, knelt on the
+chilly flags and murmured words of gratitude for benefits whereof her
+appearance bore no outward indication.
+
+We had left the prisoners to the enjoyment of their newly acquired
+property in the morning. At gloaming we again mounted the time-worn
+outside stair leading to the chamber whose casement bore the ominous red
+cross. The warm glow of firelight filled the room, scintillating in the
+glittering facets of the baubles on the tree; and from their pillows two
+pale-faced boys--boys who, despite their lengthening limbs were yet
+happily children at heart--watched eager-eyed while the sweet-faced
+Soeur, with reverential care, lit the candles that surrounded the Holy
+_B�b�_.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+LE JOUR DE L'ANN�E
+
+
+The closing days of 1900 had been unusually mild. Versailles townsfolk,
+watching the clear skies for sign of change, declared that it would be
+outside all precedent if Christmas week passed without snow. But,
+defiant of rule, sunshine continued, and the new century opened
+cloudless and bright.
+
+[Illustration: De L'eau Chaude]
+
+Karl, entering with hot water, gave us seasonable greeting, and as we
+descended the stair, pretty Rosine, brushing boots at the open window of
+the landing, also wished us a smiling _bonne nouvelle ann�e_. But within
+or without there was little token of gaiety. Sundry booths for the sale
+of gingerbread and cheap _jouets_, which had been erected in the Avenue
+de St. Cloud, found business languishing, though a stalwart countryman
+in blouse and sabots, whose stock-in-trade consisted of whirligigs
+fashioned in the semblance of _moulins rouges_ and grotesque blue
+Chinamen which he carried stuck into a straw wreath fixed on a tall
+pole, had no lack of custom.
+
+The great food question never bulks so largely in the public interest as
+at the close of a year, so perhaps it was but natural that the greatest
+appreciation of the festive traditions of the season should be evinced
+by the shops devoted to the sale of provender. Turkeys sported scarlet
+bows on their toes as though anticipating a dance rather than the oven;
+and by their sides sausages, their somewhat plethoric waists girdled by
+pink ribbon sashes, seemed ready to join them in the frolic. In one
+cookshop window a trio of plaster nymphs who stood ankle-deep in a pool
+of crimped green paper, upheld a huge garland of cunningly moulded wax
+roses, dahlias, and lilac, above which perched a pheasant regnant. This
+trophy met with vast approbation until a rival establishment across the
+way, not to be outdone, exhibited a centrepiece of unparalleled
+originality, consisting as it did of a war scene modelled entirely in
+lard. Entrenched behind the battlements of the fort crowning an
+eminence, Boers busied themselves with cannon whose aim was carefully
+directed towards the admiring spectators outside the window, not at the
+British troops who were essaying to scale the greasy slopes. Half way up
+the hill, a miniature train appeared from time to time issuing from an
+absolutely irrelevant tunnel, and, progressing at the rate of quite a
+mile an hour, crawled into the corresponding tunnel on the other side.
+At the base of the hill British soldiers, who seemed quite cognisant of
+the utter futility of the Boer gunnery, were complacently driving off
+cattle. Captious critics might have taken exception to the fact that the
+waxen camellias adorning the hill were nearly as big as the battlements,
+and considerably larger than the engine of the train. But fortunately
+detractors were absent, and such trifling discrepancies did not lessen
+the genuine delight afforded the spectators by this unique design which,
+as a card proudly informed the world, was entirely the work of the
+employ�s of the firm.
+
+It was in a p�tisserie in the Rue de la Paroisse that we noticed an
+uninviting compound labelled "Pudding Anglais, 2 fr. 1/2 kilo." A little
+thought led us to recognise in this amalgamation a travesty of our old
+friend plum-pudding; but so revolting was its dark, bilious-looking
+exterior that we felt its claim to be accounted a compatriot almost
+insulting. And it was with secret gratification that towards the close
+of January we saw the same stolid, unhappy blocks awaiting purchasers.
+
+[Illustration: The Mill]
+
+The presence of the customary Tuesday market kept the streets busy till
+noon. But when the square was again empty of sellers and buyers
+Versailles relapsed into quietude. I wonder if any other town of its
+size is as silent as Versailles. There is little horse-traffic. Save for
+the weird, dirge-like drone of the electric cars, which seems in perfect
+consonance with the tone of sadness pervading the old town whose glory
+has departed, the clang of the wooden shoes on the rough pavement, and
+the infrequent beat of hoofs as a detachment of cavalry moves by,
+unnatural stillness seems to prevail.
+
+Of street music there was none, though once an old couple wailing a
+plaintive duet passed under our windows. Britain is not esteemed a
+melodious nation, yet the unclassical piano is ever with us, and even in
+the smallest provincial towns one is rarely out of hearing of the
+insistent note of some itinerant musician. And no matter how far one
+penetrates into the recesses of the country, he is always within reach
+of some bucolic rendering of the popular music-hall ditty of the year
+before last. But never during our stay in Versailles, a stay that
+included what is supposedly the gay time of the year, did we hear the
+sound of an instrument, or--with the one exception of the old couple,
+whom it would be rank flattery to term vocalists--the note of a voice
+raised in song.
+
+With us, New Year's Day was a quiet one. A dozen miles distant, Paris
+was welcoming the advent of the new century in a burst of feverish
+excitement. But despite temptations, we remained in drowsy Versailles,
+and spent several of the hours in the little room where two pallid
+Red-Cross knights, who were celebrating the occasion by sitting up for
+the first time, waited expectant of our coming as their one link with
+the outside world.
+
+[Illustration: The Presbytery]
+
+It was with a sincere thrill of pity that at _d�je�ner_ we glanced round
+the _salle-�-manger_ and found all the Ogams filling their accustomed
+solitary places. Only Dunois the comparatively young, and presumably
+brave, was absent. The others occupied their usual seats, eating with
+their unfailing air of introspective absorption. Nobody had cared enough
+for these lonely old men to ask them to fill a corner at their tables,
+even on New Year's Day. To judge by their regular attendance at the
+hotel meals, these men--all of whom, as shown by their wearing the red
+ribbon of the Legion of Honour, had merited distinction--had little
+hospitality offered them. Most probably they offered as little, for,
+throughout our stay, none ever had a friend to share his breakfast or
+dinner.
+
+The bearing of the hotel guests suggested absolute ignorance of one
+another's existence. The Colonels, as I have said in a previous chapter,
+were exceptions, but even they held intercourse only without the hotel
+walls. Day after day, month after month, year after year as we were
+told, these men had fed together, yet we never saw them betray even the
+most cursory interest in one another. They entered and departed without
+revealing, by word or look, cognisance of another human being's
+presence. Could one imagine a dozen men of any other nationality thus
+maintaining the same indifference over even a short period? I hope
+future experience will prove me wrong, but in the meantime my former
+conception of the French as a nation overflowing with _bonhomie_ and
+_camaraderie_ is rudely shaken.
+
+The day of the year would have passed without anything to distinguish it
+from its fellows had not the proprietor, who, by the way, was a Swiss,
+endeavoured by sundry little attentions to reveal his goodwill. Oysters
+usurped the place of the customary _hors d'oeuvres_ at breakfast, and
+the meal ended with _caf� noir_ and cognac handed round by the
+deferential Iorson as being "offered by the proprietor," who, entering
+during the progress of the _d�je�ner_, paid his personal respects to his
+_client�le_.
+
+The afternoon brought us a charming discovery. We had a boy guest with
+us at luncheon, a lonely boy left at school when his few
+compatriots--save only the two Red-Cross prisoners--had gone home on
+holiday. The day was bright and balmy; and while strolling in the park
+beyond the Petit Trianon, we stumbled by accident upon the _hameau_, the
+little village of counterfeit rusticity wherein Marie Antoinette loved
+to play at country life.
+
+Following a squirrel that sported among the trees, we had strayed from
+the beaten track, when, through the leafless branches, we caught sight
+of roofs and houses and, wandering towards them, found ourselves by the
+side of a miniature lake, round whose margin were grouped the daintiest
+rural cottages that monarch could desire or Court architect design.
+
+History had told us of the creation of this unique plaything of the
+capricious Queen, but we had thought of it as a thing of the past, a toy
+whose fragile beauty had been wrecked by the rude blows of the
+Revolution. The matter-of-fact and unromantic Baedeker, it is true, gives
+it half a line. After devoting pages to the Ch�teau, its grounds,
+pictures, and statues, and detailing exhaustively the riches of the
+Trianons, he blandly mentions the gardens of the Petit Trianon as
+containing "some fine exotic trees, an artificial lake, a Temple of
+Love, and a hamlet where the Court ladies played at peasant life."
+
+It is doubtful whether ten out of every hundred tourists who, Baedeker
+in hand, wander conscientiously over the grand Ch�teau--Palace, alas! no
+longer--ever notice the concluding words, or, reading its lukewarm
+recommendation, deem the hamlet worthy of a visit. The Ch�teau is an
+immense building crammed with artistic achievements, and by the time the
+sightseer of ordinary capacity has seen a tenth of the pictures, a third
+of the sculpture, and a half of the fountains, his endurance, if not all
+his patience, is exhausted.
+
+I must acknowledge that we, too, had visited Versailles without
+discovering that the _hameau_ still existed; so to chance upon it in the
+sunset glow of that winter evening seemed to carry us back to the time
+when the storm-cloud of the Revolution was yet no larger than a man's
+hand; to the day when Louis XVI., making for once a graceful speech,
+presented the site to his wife, saying: "You love flowers. Ah! well, I
+have a bouquet for you--the Petit Trianon." And his Queen, weary of the
+restrictions of Court ceremony--though it must be admitted that the
+willful Marie Antoinette ever declined to be hampered by
+convention--experiencing in her residence in the little house freedom
+from etiquette, pursued the novel pleasure to its furthest by commanding
+the erection in its grounds of a village wherein she might the better
+indulge her newly fledged fancy for make-believe rusticity.
+
+About the pillars supporting the verandah-roof of the chief cottage and
+that of the wide balcony above, roses and vines twined lovingly. And
+though it was the first day of January, the rose foliage was yet green
+and bunches of shrivelled grapes clung to the vines. It was lovely then;
+yet a day or two later, when a heavy snowfall had cast a white mantle
+over the village, and the little lake was frozen hard, the scene seemed
+still more beautiful in its ghostly purity.
+
+At first sight there was no sign of decay about the long-deserted
+hamlet. The windows were closed, but had it been early morning, one
+could easily have imagined that the pseudo villagers were asleep behind
+the shuttered casements, and that soon the Queen, in some charming
+_d�shabill�_, would come out to breathe the sweet morning air and to
+inhale the perfume of the climbing roses on the balcony overlooking the
+lake, wherein gold-fish darted to and fro among the water-lilies; or
+expect to see the King, from the steps of the little mill where he
+lodged, exchange blithe greetings with the maids of honour as they
+tripped gaily to the _laiterie_ to play at butter-making, or sauntered
+across the rustic bridge on their way to gather new-laid eggs at the
+farm.
+
+The sunset glamour had faded and the premature dusk of mid-winter was
+falling as, approaching nearer, we saw where the roof-thatch had
+decayed, where the insidious finger of Time had crumbled the stone
+walls. A chilly wind arising, moaned through the naked trees. The shadow
+of the guillotine seemed to brood oppressively over the scene, and,
+shuddering, we hastened away.
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: To the Place of Rest]
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+ICE-BOUND
+
+
+Even in the last days of December rosebuds had been trying to open on
+the standard bushes in the sheltered rose-garden of the Palace. But with
+the early nights of January a sudden frost seized the town in its icy
+grip, and, almost before we had time to realise the change of weather,
+pipes were frozen and hot-water bottles of strange design made their
+appearance in the upper corridors of the hotel. The naked cherubs in the
+park basins stood knee-deep in ice, skaters skimmed the smooth surface
+of the canal beyond the _tapis vert_, and in a twinkling Versailles
+became a town peopled by gnomes and brownies whose faces peeped quaintly
+from within conical hoods.
+
+Soldiers drew their cloak-hoods over their uniform caps. Postmen went
+their rounds thus snugly protected from the weather. The doddering old
+scavengers, plying their brooms among the great trees of the avenues,
+bore so strong a resemblance to the pixies who lurk in caves and woods,
+that we almost expected to see them vanish into some crevice in the
+gnarled roots of the trunks. Even the tiny acolytes trotting gravely in
+the funeral processions had their heads and shoulders shrouded in the
+prevailing hooded capes.
+
+[Illustration: While the Frost Holds]
+
+To us, accustomed though we were to an inclement winter climate, the
+chill seemed intense. So frigid was the atmosphere that the first step
+taken from the heated hotel hall into the outer air felt like putting
+one's face against an iceberg. All wraps of ordinary thickness appeared
+incapable of excluding the cold, and I sincerely envied the countless
+wearers of the dominant Capuchin cloaks.
+
+[Illustration: The Postman's Wrap]
+
+Our room was many-windowed, and no matter how high Karl piled the logs,
+nor how close we sat to the flames, our backs never felt really warm. It
+was only when night had fallen and the outside shutters were firmly
+closed that the thermometer suspended near the chimney-piece grudgingly
+consented to record temperate heat.
+
+[Illustration: A Lapful of Warmth]
+
+But there was at least one snug chamber in Versailles, and that was the
+room of the Red-Cross prisoners. However extravagant the degrees of
+frost registered without, the boys' sick-room was always pleasantly
+warm. How the good Soeur, who was on duty all day, managed to regulate
+the heat throughout the night-watches was her secret. A half-waking boy
+might catch a glimpse of her, apparently robed as by day, stealing out
+of the room; but so noiseless were her movements, that neither of the
+invalids ever saw her stealing in. They had a secret theory that in her
+own little apartment, which was just beyond theirs, the Soeur, garbed,
+hooded, and wearing rosary and the knotted rope of her Order, passed her
+nights in devotion. Certain it was that even the most glacial of
+weathers did not once avail to prevent her attending the Mass that was
+held at Notre Dame each morning before daybreak.
+
+[Illustration: The Daily Round]
+
+Frost-flowers dulled the inner glories of the shop windows with their
+unwelcome decoration. Even in the square on market mornings business
+flagged. The country folks, chilled by their cold drive to town,
+cowered, muffled in thick wraps, over their little charcoal stoves,
+lacking energy to call attention to their wares. The sage with the
+onions was absent, but the pretty girl in the red hood held her
+accustomed place, warming mittened fingers at a chaufferette which she
+held on her lap. The only person who gave no outward sign of misery was
+the boulang�re who, harnessed to her heavy hand-cart, toiled
+unflinchingly on her rounds.
+
+In the streets the comely little _bourgeoises_ hid their plump shoulders
+under ugly black knitted capes, and concealed their neat hands in clumsy
+worsted gloves. But despite the rigour of the atmosphere their heads,
+with the hair neatly dressed _� la Chinoise_, remained uncovered. It
+struck our unaccustomed eyes oddly to see these girls thus exposed,
+standing on the pavement in the teeth of some icy blast, talking to
+stalwart soldier friends, whose noses were their only visible feature.
+
+[Illustration: Three Babes and a Bonne]
+
+The ladies of Versailles give a thought to their waists, but they leave
+their ankles to Providence, and any one having experience of Versailles
+winter streets can fully sympathise with their trust; for even in dry
+sunny weather mud seems a spontaneous production that renders goloshes a
+necessity. And when frost holds the high-standing city in its frigid
+grasp the extreme cold forbids any idea of coquetry, and thickly lined
+boots with cloth uppers--a species of foot-gear that in grace of outline
+is decidedly suggestive of "arctics"--become the only comfortable wear.
+
+[Illustration: Snow in the Park]
+
+After a few days of thought-congealing cold--a cold so intense that
+sundry country people who had left their homes before dawn to drive into
+Paris with farm produce were taken dead from their market-carts at the
+end of the journey--the weather mercifully changed. A heavy snowfall now
+tempered the inclement air, and turned the leafless park into a fairy
+vision.
+
+The nights were still cold, but during the day the sun glinted warmly on
+the frozen waters of the gilded fountains and sparkled on the facets of
+the crisp snow. The marble benches in the sheltered nooks of the snug
+Ch�teau gardens were occupied by little groups, which usually consisted
+of a _bonne_ and a baby, or of a chevalier and a hopelessly unclassable
+dog; for the dogs of Versailles belong to breeds that no man living
+could classify, the most prevalent type in clumsiness of contour and
+astonishing shagginess of coat resembling nothing more natural than
+those human travesties of the canine race familiar to us in pantomime.
+
+Along the snow-covered paths under the leafless trees, on whose branches
+close-wreathed mistletoe hangs like rooks' nests, the statues stood like
+guardian angels of the scene. They had lost their air of aloofness and
+were at one with the white earth, just as the forest trees in their
+autumn dress of brown and russet appear more in unison with their parent
+soil than when decked in their bravery of summer greenery.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+THE HAUNTED CHATEAU
+
+
+[Illustration: A Veteran of the Chateau]
+
+The Ch�teau of Versailles, like the town, dozes through the winter, only
+half awakening on Sunday afternoons when the townsfolk make it their
+meeting-place. Then conscripts, in clumsy, ill-fitting uniforms, tread
+noisily over the shining _parqueterie_ floors, and burgesses gossip
+amicably in the dazzling _Galerie des Glaces_, where each morning
+courtiers were wont to await the uprising of their king. But on the
+weekdays visitors are of the rarest. Sometimes a few half-frozen people
+who have rashly automobiled thither from Paris alight at the Ch�teau
+gates, and take a hurried walk through the empty galleries to restore
+the circulation to their stiffened limbs before venturing to set forth
+on the return journey.
+
+Every weekday in the Place d'Armes, squads of conscripts are busily
+drilling, running hither and thither with unflagging energy, and the air
+resounds with the hoarse staccato cries of "Un! Deux! Trois!" wherewith
+they accompany their movements, cries that, heard from a short distance,
+exactly resemble the harsh barking of a legion of dogs.
+
+[Illustration: Un--Deux--Trois]
+
+Within the gates there is a sense of leisure: even the officials have
+ceased to anticipate visitors. In the _Cour Royale_ two little girls
+have cajoled an old guide into playing a game of ball. A custodian dozes
+by the great log fire in the bedroom of Louis XIV., where the warm
+firelight playing on the rich trappings lends such an air of occupation
+to the chamber, that--forgetting how time has turned to grey the once
+white ostrich plumes adorning the canopy of the bed, and that the
+priceless lace coverlet would probably fall to pieces at a touch--one
+almost expects the door to open for the entrance of Louis le Grand
+himself.
+
+To this room he came when he built the Palace wherein to hide from that
+grim summons with which the tower of the Royal sepulture of St. Denis,
+visible from his former residence, seemed to threaten him. And here it
+was that Death, after long seeking, found him. We can see the little
+great-grandson who was to succeed, lifted on to the bed of the dying
+monarch.
+
+[Illustration: The Bedchamber of Louis XIV]
+
+"What is your name, my child?" asks the King.
+
+"Louis XV;" replies the infant, taking brevet-rank. And nearly sixty
+years later we see the child, his wasted life at an end, dying of
+virulent smallpox under the same roof, deserted by all save his devoted
+daughters.
+
+To me the Palace of Versailles is peopled by the ghosts of many women. A
+few of them are dowdy and good, but by far the greater number are
+graceful and wicked. How infinitely easier it is to make a good bad
+reputation than to achieve even a bad good one! "Tell us stories about
+naughty children," we used to beseech our nurses. And as our years
+increase we still yawn over the doings of the righteous, while our
+interest in the ways of transgressors only strengthens.
+
+We all know by heart the romantic lives of the shrinking La Valli�re, of
+Madame de Montespan the impassioned, of sleek Madame de Maintenon--the
+trio of beauties honoured by the admiration of Louis le Grand; and of
+the bevy of favourites of Louis XV, the three fair and short-lived
+sisters de Mailly-Nesle, the frail Pompadour who mingled scheming with
+debauchery, and the fascinating but irresponsible Du Barry. Even the most
+minute details of Marie Antoinette's tragic career are fresh in our
+memories, but which of us can remember the part in the history of France
+played by Marie Leczinska? Yet, apart from her claim to notability as
+having been the last queen who ended her days on the French throne, her
+story is full of romantic interest.
+
+Thrusting aside the flimsy veil of Time, we find Marie Leczinska the
+penniless daughter of an exiled Polish king who is living in retirement
+in a dilapidated commandatory at a little town in Alsace. It is easy to
+picture the shabby room wherein the unforeseeing Marie sits content
+between her mother and grandmother, all three diligently broidering
+altar cloths. Upon the peaceful scene the father enters, overcome by
+emotion, trembling. His face announces great news, before he can school
+his voice to speak.
+
+"Why, father! Have you been recalled to the throne of Poland?" asks
+Marie, and the na�ve question reveals that many years of banishment have
+not quenched in the hearts of the exiles the hope of a return to their
+beloved Poland.
+
+"No, my daughter, but you are to be Queen of France," replies the
+father. "Let us thank God."
+
+[Illustration: Marie Leczinska]
+
+Knowing the sequel, one wonders if it was for a blessing or a curse that
+the refugees, kneeling in that meagre room in the old house at
+Wissenberg, returned thanks.
+
+Certain it is that the ministers of the boy-monarch were actuated more
+by a craving to further their own ends than either by the desire to
+please God or to honour their King, in selecting this obscure maiden
+from the list of ninety-nine marriageable princesses that had been drawn
+up at Versailles. A dowerless damsel possessed of no influential
+relatives is not in a position to be exacting, and, whate'er befell,
+poor outlawed Stanislas Poniatowski could not have taken up arms in
+defence of his daughter.
+
+Having a sincere regard for unaffected Marie Leczinska, I regret being
+obliged to admit that, even in youth, "comely" was the most effusive
+adjective that could veraciously be awarded her. And it is only in the
+lowest of whispers that I will admit that she was seven years older than
+her handsome husband, whose years did not then number seventeen. Yet is
+there indubitable charm in the simple grace wherewith Marie accepted her
+marvellous transformation from pauper to queen. She disarmed criticism
+by refusing to conceal her former poverty. "This is the first time in my
+life I have been able to make presents," she frankly told the ladies of
+the Court, as she distributed among them her newly got trinkets.
+
+It is pleasant to remember that the early years of her wedded life
+passed harmoniously. Louis, though never passionately enamoured of his
+wife, yet loved her with the warm affection a young man bestows on the
+first woman he has possessed. And that Marie was wholly content there is
+little doubt. She was no gadabout. Versailles satisfied her. Three years
+passed before she visited Paris, and then the visit was more of the
+nature of a pilgrimage than of a State progress. Twin daughters had
+blessed the union, and the Queen journeyed to the churches of Notre Dame
+and Saint Genevi�ve to crave from Heaven the boon of a Dauphin: a prayer
+which a year later was answered.
+
+But clouds were gathering apace. As he grew into manhood the domestic
+virtues palled upon Louis. He tired of the needlework which, doubtless,
+Marie's skilled hands had taught him. We recall how, sitting between her
+mother and grandmother, the future Queen had broidered altar cloths.
+Marie Leczinska was an adoring mother; possibly her devotion to their
+rapidly increasing family wearied him. Being little more than a child
+himself, the King is scarcely likely to have found the infantile society
+so engaging as did the mother. Thus began that series of foolish
+infidelities that, characterised by extreme timidity and secrecy at
+first, was latterly flaunted in the face of the world.
+
+Marie's life was not a smooth one, but it was happier than that of her
+Royal spouse. To me there is nothing sadder, nothing more sordid in
+history, than the feeble, useless existence of Louis XV., whose early
+years promised so well. It is pitiful to look at the magnificent
+portrait, still hanging in the palace where he reigned, of the
+child-king seated in his robes of State, the sceptre in his hand,
+looking with eyes of innocent wonder into the future, then to think upon
+the depth of degradation reached by the once revered Monarch before his
+body was dragged in dishonour and darkness to its last resting-place.
+
+[Illustration: Madame Adelaide]
+
+Pleasanter figures that haunt the Ch�teau are those of the six pretty
+daughters of Louis and Marie Leczinska. There are the ill-starred twins,
+Elizabeth and Henrietta: Madame Elizabeth, who never lost the love of
+her old home, and, though married, before entering her teens, to the
+Infanta of Spain, retired, after a life of disappointment, to her
+beloved Versailles to die; and the gentle Henrietta who, cherishing an
+unlucky passion for the young Duc de Chartres, pined quietly away after
+witnessing her lover wed to another.
+
+Then there is Adelaide, whom Nattier loved to paint, portraying her
+sometimes as a lightly clad goddess, sometimes sitting demurely in a
+pretty frock. Good Nattier! there is a later portrait of himself in
+complacent middle age surrounded by his wife and children; but I like to
+think that, when he spent so many days at the Palace painting the young
+Princess, some tenderer influence than mere artistic skill lent cunning
+to his brush.
+
+When the daughters of Louis XV. were sent to be educated at a convent,
+Adelaide it was who, by tearful protest to her royal father, gained
+permission to remain at the Palace while her sisters meekly endured
+their banishment. From this instance of childish character one would
+have anticipated a career for Madame Adelaide, and I hate being obliged
+to think of her merely developing into one of the three spinster aunts
+of Louis XVI. who, residing under the same roof, turned coldly
+disapproving eyes upon the manifold frailties of their niece, Marie
+Antoinette.
+
+The sisters Victoire and Sophie are faint shades leaving no impression
+on the memory; but there is another spirit, clad in the sombre garb of a
+Carmelite nun, who, standing aloof, looks with the calm eyes of peace on
+the motley throng. It is Louise, the youngest sister of all, who, deeply
+grieved by her father's infatuation for the Du Barry--an infatuation
+which, beginning within a month of Marie Leczinska's decease, ended only
+when on his deathbed the dying Monarch prepared to receive absolution by
+bidding his inamorata farewell--resolved to flee her profligate
+surroundings and devote her life to holiness.
+
+It is affecting to think of the gentle Louise, secretly anticipating the
+rigours of convent life, torturing her delicate skin by wearing coarse
+serge, and burning tallow candles in her chamber to accustom herself to
+their detestable odour.
+
+Her father's consent gained, Louise still tarried at Versailles. Perhaps
+the King's daughter shrank from voluntarily beginning a life of
+imprisoned drudgery. We know that at this period she passed many hours
+reading contemporary history, knowing that, once within the convent
+walls, the study of none but sacred literature would be permitted.
+
+Then came an April morning when Louise, who had kept her intention
+secret from all save her father, left the Palace never to return.
+France, in a state of joyous excitement, was eagerly anticipating the
+arrival of Marie Antoinette, who was setting forth on the first stage of
+that triumphal journey which had so tragic an ending. Already the gay
+clamour of wedding-bells filled the air; and Louise may have feared
+that, did she linger at Versailles, the enticing vanities of the world
+might change the current of her thoughts.
+
+Chief among the impalpable throng that people the state galleries is
+Marie Antoinette, and her spirit shows us many faces. It is charming,
+haughty, considerate, headstrong, frivolous, thoughtful, degraded,
+dignified, in quick succession. We see her arrive at the Palace amid the
+tumultuous adoration of the crowd, and leave amidst its execrations.
+Sometimes she is richly apparelled, as befits a queen; anon she sports
+the motley trappings of a mountebank. The courtyard that saw the
+departure of Madame Louise witnesses Marie Antoinette, returning at
+daybreak in company with her brother-in-law from some festivity
+unbecoming a queen, refused admittance by the King's express command.
+
+[Illustration: Louis Quatorze]
+
+Many of the attendant spirits who haunt Marie Antoinette's ghostly
+footsteps as they haunted her earthly ones are malefic. Most are women,
+and all are young and fair. There is Madame Roland, who, taken as a
+young girl to the Palace to peep at the Royalties, became imbued by that
+jealous hatred which only the Queen's death could appease.
+
+"If I stay here much longer," she told that kindly mother who sought to
+give her a treat by showing her Court life, "I shall detest these people
+so much that I shall be unable to hide my hatred."
+
+It is easy to fancy the girl's evil face scowling at the unconscious
+Queen, before she leaves to pen those inflammatory pamphlets which are
+to prove the Sovereign's undoing and her own. For by some whim of fate
+Madame Roland was executed on the very scaffold to which her envenomed
+writings had driven Marie Antoinette.
+
+A spectre that impresses as wearing rags under a gorgeous robe, lurks
+among the foliage of the quiet _bosquet_ beyond the orangerie. It is the
+infamous Madame de la Motte, chief of adventuresses, and it was in that
+secluded grove that her tool, Cardinal de Rohan, had his pretended
+interview with the Queen. Poor, perfidious Contesse! what an existence
+of alternate beggarly poverty and beggarly riches was hers before that
+last scene of all when she lay broken and bruised almost beyond human
+semblance in that dingy London courtyard beneath the window from which,
+in a mad attempt to escape arrest, she had thrown herself.
+
+Through the Royal salons flits a presence whereat the shades of the
+Royal Princesses look askance: that of the frolicsome, good-natured,
+irresponsible Du Barry. A soulless ephemera she, with no ambitions or
+aspirations, save that, having quitted the grub stage, she desires to be
+as brilliant a butterfly as possible. Close in attendance on her moves
+an ebon shadow--Zamora, the ingrate foundling who, reared by the
+Duchesse, swore that he would make his benefactress ascend the scaffold,
+and kept his oath. For our last sight of the prodigal, warm-hearted Du
+Barry, plaything of the aged King, is on the guillotine, where in
+agonies of terror she fruitlessly appeals to her executioner's clemency.
+
+But of all the bygone dames who haunt the grand Ch�teau, the only one I
+detest is probably the most irreproachable of all--Madame de Maintenon.
+There is something so repulsively sanctimonious in her aspect, something
+so crafty in the method wherewith, under the cloak of religion, she
+wormed her way into high places, ousting--always in the name of
+propriety--those who had helped her. Her stepping-stone to Royal favour
+was handsome, impetuous Madame de Montespan, who, taking compassion on
+her widowed poverty, appointed Madame Scarron, as she then was,
+governess of her children, only to find her _prot�g�e_ usurp her place
+both in the honours of the King and in the affections of their children.
+
+The natural heart rebels against the "unco guid," and Madame de
+Maintenon, with her smooth expression, double chin, sober garments and
+ever-present symbols of piety, revolts me. I know it is wrong. I know
+that historians laud her for the wholesome influence she exercised upon
+the mind of a king who had grown timorous with years; that the dying
+Queen declared that she owed the King's kindness to her during the last
+twenty years of her life entirely to Madame de Maintenon. But we know
+also that six months after the Queen's death an unwonted light showed at
+midnight in the Chapel Royal, where Madame de Maintenon--the child of a
+prison cell--was becoming the legal though unacknowledged wife of Louis
+XIV. The impassioned, uncalculating de Montespan had given the handsome
+Monarch her all without stipulation. Truly the career of Madame de
+Maintenon was a triumph of virtue over vice; and yet of all that
+heedless, wanton throng, my soul detests only her.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Where the Queen Played]
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+MARIE ANTOINETTE
+
+
+Stereotyped sights are rarely the most engrossing. At the Palace of
+Versailles the _petits appartements de la Reine_, those tiny rooms whose
+grey old-world furniture might have been in use yesterday, to me hold
+more actuality than all the regal salons in whose vast emptiness
+footsteps reverberate like echoes from the past.
+
+In the pretty sitting-room the coverings to-day are a reproduction of
+the same pale blue satin that draped the furniture in the days when
+queens preferred the snug seclusion of those dainty rooms overlooking
+the dank inner courtyard to the frigid grandeur of their State chambers.
+Therein it was that Marie Leczinska was wont to instruct her young
+daughters in the virtues as she had known them in her girlhood's
+thread-bare home, not as her residence at the profligate French Court
+had taught her to understand them.
+
+[Illustration: Marie Antoinette]
+
+The heavy gilt bolts bearing the interlaced initials M.A. remind us that
+these, too, were the favourite rooms of Marie Antoinette, and that in
+all probability the cunningly entwined bolts were the handiwork of her
+honest spouse, who wrought at his blacksmith forge below while his wife
+flirted above. But in truth the _petits appartements_ are instinct with
+memories of Marie Antoinette, and it is difficult to think of any save
+only her occupying them. The beautiful _coffre_ presented to her with
+the layette of the Dauphin still stands on a table in an adjoining
+chamber, and the paintings on its white silk casing are scarcely faded
+yet, though the decorative ruching of green silk leaves has long ago
+fallen into decay.
+
+A step farther is the little white and gold boudoir which still holds
+the mirror that gave the haughty Queen her first premonition of the
+catastrophe that awaited her. Viewed casually the triple mirror, lining
+an alcove wherein stands a couch garlanded with flowers, betrays no
+sinister qualities. But any visitor who approaches looking at his
+reflection where at the left the side panels meet the angle of the wall,
+will be greeted by a sight similar to that whose tragic suggestion made
+even the haughty Queen pause a moment in her reckless career. For in the
+innocent appearing mirrors the gazer is reflected without a head.
+
+It was through this liliputian suite, this strip of homeliness so
+artfully introduced into a palace, that Marie Antoinette fled on that
+fateful August morning when the mob of infuriated women invaded the
+Ch�teau.
+
+Knowing this, I was puzzling over the transparent fact that either of
+the apparent exits would have led her directly into the hands of the
+enemy, when the idea of a secret staircase suggested itself. A little
+judicious inquiry elicited the information that one did exist. "But it
+is not seen. It is locked. To view it, an order from the
+Commissary--that is necessary," explained the old guide.
+
+To know that a secret staircase, and one of such vivid historical
+importance, was at hand, and not to have seen it would have been too
+tantalising. The "Commissary" was an unknown quantity, and for a space
+it seemed as though our desire would be ungratified. Happily the
+knowledge of our interest awoke a kindly reciprocity in our guide, who,
+hurrying off, quickly returned with the venerable custodian of the key.
+A moment later, the unobtrusive panel that concealed the exit flew open
+at its touch, and the secret staircase, dark, narrow, and hoary with the
+dust of years, lay before us.
+
+[Illustration: The Secret Stair]
+
+Many must have been the romantic meetings aided by those diminutive
+steps, but, peering into their shadows, we saw nothing but a vision of
+Marie Antoinette, half clad in dishevelled wrappings of petticoat and
+shawl, flying distracted from the vengeance of the furies through the
+refuge of the low-roofed stairway.
+
+In my ingenuous youth, when studying French history, I evolved a theory
+which seemed, to myself at least, to account satisfactorily for the
+radical differences distinguishing Louis XVI. from his brothers and
+antecedents. Finding that, when a delicate infant, he had been sent to
+the country to nurse, I rushed to the conclusion that the royal infant
+had died, and that his foster-mother, fearful of the consequences, had
+substituted a child of her own in his place. The literature of the
+nursery is full of instances that seemed to suggest the probability of
+my conjecture being correct.
+
+As a youth, Louis had proved himself both awkward and clumsy. He was
+loutish, silent in company, ill at ease in his princely surroundings,
+and in all respects unlike his younger brothers. He was honest, sincere,
+pious, a faithful husband, a devoted father; amply endowed, indeed, with
+the middle-class virtues which at that period were but rarely found in
+palaces. To my childish reasoning the most convincing proof lay in his
+innate craving for physical labour; a craving that no ridicule could
+dispel.
+
+With the romantic enthusiasm of youth, I used to fancy the peasant
+mother stealing into the Palace among the spectators who daily were
+permitted to view the royal couple at dinner, and imagine her, having
+seen the King, depart glorying secretly in the strategy that had raised
+her son to so high an estate. There was another picture, in whose
+dramatic misery I used to revel. It showed the unknown mother, who had
+discovered that by her own act she had condemned her innocent son to
+suffer for the sins of past generations of royal profligates, journeying
+to Paris (in my dreams she always wore sabots and walked the entire
+distance in a state of extreme physical exhaustion) with the intention
+of preventing his execution by declaring his lowly parentage to the mob.
+The final tableau revealed her, footsore and weary, reaching within
+sight of the guillotine just in time to see the executioner holding up
+her son's severed head. I think my imaginary heroine died of a broken
+heart at this juncture, a catastrophe that would naturally account for
+her secret dying with her.
+
+[Illustration: Madame Sans T�te]
+
+During our winter stay at Versailles, my childish phantasies recurred to
+me, and I almost found them feasible. What an amazing irony of fate it
+would have shown had a son of the soil expired to expiate the crimes of
+sovereigns!
+
+But more pitiful by far than the saddest of illusions is the sordid
+reality of a scene indelibly imprinted on my mental vision. Memory takes
+me back to the twilight of a spring Sunday several years ago, when in
+the wake of a cluster of market folks we wandered into the old Cathedral
+of St. Denis. Deep in the sombre shadows of the crypt a light gleamed
+faintly through a narrow slit in the stone wall. Approaching, we looked
+into a gloomy vault wherein, just visible by the ray of a solitary
+candle, lay two zinc coffins.
+
+Earth holds no more dismal sepulchre than that dark vault, through the
+crevice in whose wall the blue-bloused marketers cast curious glances.
+Yet within these grim coffins lie two bodies with their severed heads,
+all that remains mortal of the haughty Marie Antoinette and other humble
+spouse.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Illumination]
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+THE PRISONERS RELEASED
+
+
+The first dread days, when the Boy, heavy with fever, seemed scarcely to
+realise our presence, were swiftly followed by placid hours when he lay
+and smiled in blissful content, craving nothing, now that we were all
+together again. But this state of beatitude was quickly ousted by a
+period of discontent, when the hunger fiend reigned supreme in the
+little room.
+
+"_Manger, manger, manger, tout le temps!"_ Thus the nurse epitomised the
+converse of her charges. And indeed she was right, for, from morning
+till night, the prisoners' solitary topic of conversation was food.
+During the first ten days their diet consisted solely of boiled milk,
+and as that time wore to a close the number of quarts consumed increased
+daily, until Paul, the chief porter, seemed ever ascending the little
+outside stair carrying full bottles of milk, or descending laden with
+empty ones.
+
+"Milk doesn't count. When shall we be allowed food, _real_ food?" was
+the constant cry, and their relief was abounding when, on Christmas Day,
+the doctor withdrew his prohibition, and permitted an approach to the
+desired solids. But even then the prisoners, to their loudly voiced
+disappointment, discovered that their only choice lay between vermicelli
+and tapioca, nursery dishes which at home they would have despised.
+
+"_Tapioca!_ Imagine tapioca for a Christmas dinner!" the invalids
+exclaimed with disgust. But that scorn did not prevent them devouring
+the mess and eagerly demanding more. And thereafter the saucepan
+simmering over the gas-jet in the outer room seemed ever full of savoury
+spoon-meat.
+
+I doubt if any zealous mother-bird ever had a busier time feeding her
+fledglings than had the good Sister in satisfying the appetites of these
+callow cormorants. To witness the French nun seeking to allay the hunger
+of these voracious schoolboy aliens was to picture a wren trying to fill
+the ever-gaping beaks of two young cuckoos whom an adverse fate had
+dropped into her nest.
+
+As the days wore by, the embargo placed upon our desire to cater for the
+invalids was gradually lifted, and little things such as sponge biscuits
+and pears crept in to vary the monotony of the milk diet.
+
+New Year's Day held a tangible excitement, for that morning saw a
+modified return to ordinary food, and, in place of bottles of milk,
+Paul's load consisted of such tempting selections from the school meals
+as were deemed desirable for the invalids. Poultry not being included in
+the school menus, we raided a cooked-provision shop and carried off a
+plump, well-browned chicken. The approbation which met this venture
+resulted in our supplying a succession of _poulettes_, which, at the
+invalids' express desire, were smuggled into their room under my cloak.
+Not that there was the most remote necessity for concealment, but the
+invalids, whose sole interest centred in food, laboured under the absurd
+idea that, did the authorities know they were being supplied from
+without, their regular meals would be curtailed to prevent them
+over-eating.
+
+The point of interest, for the Red-Cross prisoners at least, in our
+morning visits lay in the unveiling of the eatables we had brought.
+School food, however well arranged, is necessarily stereotyped, and the
+element of the unknown ever lurked in our packages. The sugar-sticks,
+chocolates, fruit, little cakes, or what we had chanced to bring, were
+carefully examined, criticised, and promptly devoured.
+
+A slight refreshment was served them during our short stay, and when we
+departed we left them eagerly anticipating luncheon. At gloaming, when
+we returned, it was to find them busy with half-yards of the long crusty
+loaves, plates of jelly, and tumblers, filled with milk on our Boy's
+part, and with well diluted wine on that of his fellow sufferer.
+
+Fear of starvation being momentarily averted, the Soeur used to light
+fresh candles around the tiny Holy _B�b�_ on the still green
+Christmas-tree, and for a space we sat quietly enjoying the radiance.
+But by the time the last candle had flickered out, and the glow of a
+commonplace paraffin lamp lighted the gloom, nature again demanded
+nourishment; and we bade the prisoners farewell for the night, happy in
+the knowledge that supper, sleep, and breakfast would pleasantly while
+away the hours till our return.
+
+The elder Red-Cross knight was a tall, good-looking lad of sixteen, the
+age when a boy wears painfully high collars, shaves surreptitiously--and
+unnecessarily--with his pen-knife, talks to his juniors about the
+tobacco he smokes in a week, and cherishes an undying passion for a
+maiden older than himself. He was ever an interesting study, though I do
+not think I really loved him until he confided his affairs of the heart,
+and entrusted me with the writing of his love-letters. I know that
+behind my back he invariably referred to me as "Ma"; but as he openly
+addressed the unconscious nun as "you giddy old girl," "Ma" might almost
+be termed respectful, and I think our regard was mutual.
+
+All things come to him who waits. There came a night when for the last
+time we sat together around the little tree, watching the Soeur light the
+candles that illuminated the Holy _B�b�_. On the morrow the prisoners,
+carefully disinfected, and bearing the order of their release in the
+form of a medical certificate, would be set free.
+
+It clouded our gladness to know that before the patient Sister stretched
+another period of isolation. Just that day another pupil had developed
+scarlet fever, and only awaited our boys' departure to occupy the little
+room. Hearing that this fresh prisoner lay under sentence of durance
+vile, we suggested that all the toys--chiefly remnants of shattered
+armies that, on hearing of the Boy's illness, we had brought from the
+home playroom he had outgrown--might be left for him instead of being
+sent away to be burnt.
+
+The Boy's bright face dulled. "If it had been anybody else! But, mother,
+I don't think you know that he is the one French boy we disliked. It was
+he who always shouted '_� bas les Anglais!_' in the playground."
+
+The reflection that for weary weeks this obnoxious boy would be the only
+inmate of the _bo�te_, as the invalids delighted to call their
+sick-room, overcame his antipathetic feeling, and he softened so far as
+to indite a polite little French note offering his late enemy his
+sympathy, and formally bequeathing to him the reversion of his toys,
+including the _arbre de No�l_ with all its decorations, except the
+little waxen Jesus nestling in the manger of yellow corn; the Soeur had
+already declared her intention of preserving that among her treasures.
+
+The time that had opened so gloomily had passed, and now that it was
+over we could look back upon many happy hours spent within the dingy
+prison walls. And our thoughts were in unison, for the Boy, abruptly
+breaking the silence, said: "And after all, it hasn't been such a bad
+time. Do you know, I really think I've rather enjoyed it!"
+
+
+
+
+L'ENVOI
+
+
+[Illustration: L'Envoi]
+
+Heavy skies lowered above us, the landscape seen through the driving
+mist-wreaths showed a depressing repetition of drabs and greys as we
+journeyed towards Calais. But, snugly ensconced in the _train rapide_,
+our hearts beat high with joy, for at last were we homeward bound. The
+weeks of exile in the stately old town had ended. For the last time the
+good Sister had lit us down the worn stone steps. As we sped seawards
+across the bleak country, our thoughts flew back to her, and to the
+little room with the red cross on its casement, wherein, although our
+prisoners were released, another term of nursing had already begun for
+her. In contrast with her life of cheerful self-abnegation, ours seemed
+selfish, meaningless, and empty.
+
+Dear nameless Sister! She had been an angel of mercy to us in a
+troublous time, and though our earthly paths may never again cross, our
+hearts will ever hold her memory sacred.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+_By the same Author_
+
+OUR STOLEN SUMMER
+
+THE RECORD OF A ROUNDABOUT TOUR
+
+BY
+
+MARY STUART BOYD
+
+WITH ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY SKETCHES BY A.S. BOYD
+
+_Extracts from Reviews_
+
+THE WORLD.--"To be able to go round the world nowadays, and write a
+descriptive record of the tour that is vivid and fresh is a positive
+literary feat. It has been successfully accomplished in _Our Stolen
+Summer_ by Mrs. Boyd, who with no ulterior object in making a book
+journeyed over four continents in company with her husband, and picked
+up _en route_ matter for one of the pleasantest, most humorous, and
+least pretentious books of travel we have read for many a day. It is
+admirably illustrated by Mr. A.S. Boyd, whose sense of humour happily
+matches that of his observant wife, and the reader who can lay aside
+this picturesque and truly delightful volume without sincere regret must
+have a dull and dreary mind."
+
+PUNCH.--"_Our Stolen Summer_ is calculated to lead to wholesale breakage
+of the Eighth Commandment. Certainly, my Baronite, reading the
+fascinating record of a roundabout tour, feels prompted to steal away.
+Mary Stuart Boyd, who pens the record, has the great advantage of the
+collaboration of A.S.B., whose signature is familiar in _Mr. Punch's_
+Picture Gallery.... A charming book."
+
+SPECTATOR.--"The writer, by the help of a ready pen and of the pencil of
+a skilful illustrator, has given us in this handsome volume a number of
+attractive pictures of distant places.... It is good to read and
+pleasant to look at."
+
+TRUTH.--"You will find no pleasanter holiday reading than _Our Stolen
+Summer_."
+
+ACADEMY.--"A fresh record, and worth the reading. Of such is Mrs. Boyd's
+volume, which her husband has illustrated profusely with spirited line
+drawings."
+
+FIELD.--"One of the brightest books of travel that it has been our good
+fortune to read. The illustrations deserve a notice to themselves. They
+are far and away better than those which we usually get in books of this
+kind, and we do not know that we can bestow higher praise on them than
+to say that they are worthy of the letterpress which they illustrate."
+
+LAND AND WATER.--"A delightful sketch of a delightful journey.... _Our
+Stolen Summer_ is a book which will be read with equal delight on a lazy
+summer holiday, or in the heart of London when the streets are enveloped
+in fog and the rain is beating against the window panes. Mr. Boyd's
+sketches are simply admirable."
+
+SPHERE.--"A delightful record of travel. Mrs. Boyd is never dull, and
+there is plenty of acute observation throughout her pleasant story of
+travel. My Boyd's illustrations which appear on practically every page,
+are, it need scarcely be said, up to the high level that is already
+familiar to students of his black-and-white work."
+
+LADIES' FIELD.--"A singularly delightful and unaffected book of travel."
+
+MADAME.--"One of the most delightful books of travel it has been our
+good fortune to read."
+
+MORNING POST.--"If the encouragement of globe-trotting be a virtuous
+action, then certainly Mrs. Stuart Boyd has deserved well of her
+country. To read her book is to conceive an insensate desire to be off
+and away on 'the long trail' at all hazards and at all costs.... Mr.
+Boyd's illustrations add greatly to the interest and charm of the book.
+There is movement, atmosphere, and sunshine in them."
+
+STANDARD.--"Mrs. Boyd went with her husband round the world, and the
+latter--an artist with a sense of humour--kept his hand in practice by
+making droll sketches of people encountered by the way, which heighten
+the charm of his wife's vivacious description of a _Stolen Summer_. Mrs.
+Boyd has quick eyes and an open mind, and writes with sense and
+sensibility."
+
+DAILY TELEGRAPH.--"It is not so much what Mrs. Boyd has to tell as the
+invariable good humour and brightness with which she records even the
+most familiar things that makes the charm of her excellent diary."
+
+DAILY CHRONICLE.--"Mrs. Boyd has written the log with sparkle and
+observation--seeing many things that the mere man-traveller would miss.
+Mr. Boyd's sketches are, of course, excellent."
+
+PALL MALL GAZETTE.--"Mrs. Boyd writes with so much buoyancy, and her
+humour is so unexpected and unfailing, that it is safe to say that there
+is not a dull page from first to last in this record of a tour round the
+world... Mr. A.S. Boyd's numerous illustrations show him at his very
+best."
+
+GLOBE.--"A work to acquire as well as to peruse."
+
+WESTMINSTER GAZETTE.--"The narrative from beginning to end does not
+contain a dull page. Of Mr. Boyd's numerous sketches it is only
+necessary to say that they are excellent. Altogether _Our Stolen Summer_
+will be found to be one of the most fascinating of recent books of
+travel."
+
+SUNDAY TIMES.--"Brilliantly and entertainingly written, and liberally
+illustrated by an acknowledged master of the art of black and white."
+
+SCOTSMAN.--"A beautiful and fascinating book.... Pen and pencil sketches
+alike have grace, nerve, and humour, and are alive with human interest
+and observation."
+
+GLASGOW HERALD.--"One of the most delightful travel-books of recent
+times.... Mrs. Boyd's volume must commend itself to people who
+contemplate visiting the other side of the globe and to all stay-at-home
+travellers as well."
+
+DAILY FREE PRESS.--"Mrs. Boyd is an admirable descriptive
+writer--observant, humorous, and sympathetic. Without illustrations,
+_Our Stolen Summer_ would be a notable addition to the literature of
+travel; with Mr. Boyd's collaboration it is almost unique."
+
+LEEDS MERCURY.--"Vivacious and diverting record."
+
+YORKSHIRE DAILY POST.--"For such a book there could be nothing but
+praise if one wrote columns about it."
+
+BIRMINGHAM DAILY POST.--"A singularly happy and interesting record of a
+most enjoyable tour."
+
+NORTHERN WHIG.--"Shrewdness of observation, with not a little humour and
+a real literary gift, mark the story of _Our Stolen Summer_."
+
+THE BOOKMAN.--"Mrs. Boyd writes with so much brightness, such vivacity
+and picturesqueness of style, that although the volume runs to close
+upon four hundred pages there is not a dull page among them. The success
+of _Our Stolen Summer_, however, is due as much to the artist as to the
+author; and praise must be equally divided. Mr. Boyd's sketches are
+spirited, clever, full of humour and sympathetic observation. Without a
+word of letter-press they would have formed an excellent travel-book;
+taken in conjunction with Mrs. Boyd's narrative they are irresistible."
+
+
+
+
+LONDON AND EDINBURGH: WILLIAM BLACKWOOD & SONS
+
+Illustrated by A.S. Boyd
+
+A LOWDEN SABBATH MORN
+
+BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON
+
+WITH TWENTY-SEVEN PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS BY A.S. BOYD
+
+_Extracts from Reviews_
+
+THE TIMES.--"The characters whom Stevenson had in his mind's eye are all
+cleverly pictured, and the drawings may be truthfully said to illustrate
+the writer's ideas--a quality that seldom resides in illustrations....
+All are faithfully presented as only one who has known them intimately
+could present them.... Mr. Boyd's talent for black-and-white work has
+never found happier expression."
+
+MORNING POST.--"It is impossible to imagine anything more likely to
+appeal to the sentiment of the Scottish people throughout the world than
+this series of pictures, instinct with the spirit of their land."
+
+DAILY TELEGRAPH.--"One of the happiest combinations of author and artist
+which has been seen of late years. Mr. Boyd has entered thoroughly into
+the spirit of the lines, and his figures are instinct with graceful
+humour."
+
+DAILY CHRONICLE.--"Mr. Boyd is to be congratulated (as R. L. S. would
+assuredly have granted) upon interpreting so vividly a notable feature
+in the national life of Scotland."
+
+ATHENAEUM.--"The task of illustrating Stevenson's verses was most
+difficult, because it demands from the artist knowledge of local
+circumstances and characteristic details. Mr. Boyd's success in making
+us see so plainly the moods and manners of the 'restin' ploughman' while
+he 'daundered' in his garden and 'raxed his limbs' is the more to be
+enjoyed and praised."
+
+PALL MALL GAZETTE.--"Followers of the master will appreciate this
+beautiful book for its accurate interpretation of the poem as well as
+for its excellent drawing."
+
+ST. JAMES'S GAZETTE.--"There is plenty of good Scotch character in the
+illustrations, and a quiet observation of the humours of a parish, with
+such annals as those recorded by Gait."
+
+ACADEMY.--"An attractive book."
+
+SATURDAY REVIEW.--"In saying therefore that Mr. Boyd's
+illustrations--there is a full page drawing for each verse--are not only
+worthy of the poem, but actually emphasise and define its merits, we
+give the book the highest possible praise. It is a volume which should
+be added to the library of every collector."
+
+SPECTATOR.--"These illustrations to Mr. Stevenson's Scots poem are
+distinctly clever, especially in their characterisation of the various
+attendants at the village kirk."
+
+SPEAKER.--"The book presents very vividly some of the aspects (both
+humorous and pathetic) of a Scottish rural lowland parish, and will
+doubtless touch a chord in the heart of Scotsmen throughout the world."
+
+OUTLOOK.--"Many of Mr. Stevenson's admirers the world over have long
+desired that such a classic poem should be faithfully and adequately
+illustrated, and they will give a hearty welcome to this most handsome
+quarto."
+
+SCOTSMAN.--"One way and another the book is wholly delightful."
+
+GLASGOW EVENING NEWS.--"Mr. Boyd's contributions to a volume which ought
+to be popular with Scots in every part of the world, are full of pawky
+humour, and their realism is so pronounced that we seem to have known
+the models in the life."
+
+DUNDEE ADVERTISER.--"This is a volume to be treasured alike for the sake
+of the poet, of the artist, and of that form of Scottish life which is
+rapidly disappearing before the march of progress."
+
+ARBROATH HERALD.--"Mr. Boyd has represented these pictures in line
+sketches, which are characterised at once by the strength and confidence
+of a masterful draughtsman and the insight of a keen observer of
+character, who has long been familiar with the types presented in
+Stevenson's poem."
+
+GOOD WORDS.--"Mr. Boyd has portrayed, with here and there a happy trait
+of grace or humour beyond the wording of the text, the very scene and
+people. Each of the illustrations has a charm and freshness of its own."
+
+ART JOURNAL.--"Mr. Boyd's knowledge of Lothian peasants and their
+manners is as complete as Stevenson's. His drawings place in pictorial
+view the poet's thoughts, while they greatly enhance the descriptions by
+emphasising what the writer rightly left vague."
+
+LONDON: CHATTO & WINDUS, III St. Martin's Lane
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's A Versailles Christmas-Tide, by Mary Stuart Boyd
+
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+<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN">
+<html>
+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content=
+    "text/html; charset=us-ascii">
+    <meta content="pg2html (binary version 0.12a)" name=
+    "generator">
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Versailles Christmas-tide,
+      by Mary Stuart Boyd.
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css">
+    <!--
+    * { font-family:   Times;
+      }
+    P { text-indent:   1em;
+        margin-top:    .75em;
+        font-size:     14pt;
+        text-align:    justify;
+        margin-bottom: .75em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; }
+    HR  { width: 33%; }
+    PRE { font-family: Courier, monospaced;}
+    .toc  { margin-left: 15%; font-size: 10pt; margin-bottom: 0em;}
+    CENTER { padding: 10px;}
+    // -->
+    </style>
+  </head>
+  <body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's A Versailles Christmas-Tide, by Mary Stuart Boyd
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Versailles Christmas-Tide
+[Date last updated: December 22, 2004]
+
+Author: Mary Stuart Boyd
+
+Release Date: January 23, 2004 [EBook #10813]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A VERSAILLES CHRISTMAS-TIDE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Karen Robinson, David Garcia and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <center>
+      <img src="cover.png" width="500" height="260" alt=
+      "Front Cover">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <h1>
+      A Versailles Christmas-tide
+    </h1>
+    <center>
+      <b>By</b>
+    </center>
+    <center>
+      <b>Mary Stuart Boyd</b><br>
+       With Fifty-three Illustrations by<br>
+      <b>A.S. Boyd</b><br>
+      1901
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vxinset.png" width="150" height="163" alt="">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <hr>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      Contents
+    </h2>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#2HCH01">Chapter I&mdash;The Unexpected Happens</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#2HCH02">Chapter II&mdash;Ogams</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#2HCH03">Chapter III&mdash;The Town</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#2HCH04">Chapter IV&mdash;Our Arbre de No&euml;l</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#2HCH05">Chapter V&mdash;Le Jour de
+      l'Ann&eacute;e</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#2HCH06">Chapter VI&mdash;Ice-bound</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#2HCH07">Chapter VII&mdash;The Haunted
+      Ch&acirc;teau</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#2HCH08">Chapter VIII&mdash;Marie Antoinette</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#2HCH09">Chapter IX&mdash;The Prisoners Released</a>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      Illustrations
+    </h2>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-01">The Summons</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-02">Storm Warning</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-03">Treasure Trove</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-04">The Red Cross in the Window</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-05">Enter M. Le Docteur</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-06">Perpetual Motion</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-07">Ursa Major</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-08">Meal Considerations</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-09">The Two Colonels</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-10">The Young and Brave</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-11">Malcontent</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-12">The Aristocrat</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-13">Papa, Mama et B&eacute;b&eacute;</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-14">Juvenile Progress</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-15">Automoblesse Oblige</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-16">Sable Garb</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-17">A Football Team</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-18">Mistress and Maid</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-19">Sage and Onions</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-20">Marketing</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-21">Private Boxes</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-22">A Foraging Party</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-23">A Thriving Merchant</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-24">Chestnuts in the Avenue</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-25">The Tree Vendor</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-26">The Tree-bearer</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-27">Rosine</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-28">Alms and the Lady</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-29">Adoration</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-30">Thankfulness</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-31">One of the Devout</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-32">De L'eau Chaude</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-33">The Mill</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-34">The Presbytery</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-35">To the Place of Rest</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-36">While the Frost Holds</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-37">The Postman's Wrap</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-38">A Lapful of Warmth</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-39">The Daily Round</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-40">Three Babes and a Bonne</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-41">Snow in the Park</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-42">A Veteran of the Chateau</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-43">Un&mdash;Deux&mdash;Trois</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-44">The Bedchamber of Louis Xiv</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-45">Marie Leczinska</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-46">Madame Adelaide</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-47">Louis Quatorze</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-48">Where the Queen Played</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-49">Marie Antoinette</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-50">The Secret Stair</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-51">Madame Sans T&ecirc;te</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-52">Illumination</a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#image-53">L'Envoi</a>
+    </p><a name="2HCH01"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER I
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS
+    </h3><a name="image-01"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx08.png" width="250" height="452" alt=
+      "The Summons" align="left">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      No project could have been less foreseen than was ours of
+      wintering in France, though it must be confessed that for
+      several months our thoughts had constantly strayed across the
+      Channel. For the Boy was at school at Versailles, banished
+      there by our desire to fulfil a parental duty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The time of separation had dragged tardily past, until one
+      foggy December morning we awoke to the glad consciousness
+      that that very evening the Boy would be with us again. Across
+      the breakfast-table we kept saying to each other, "It seems
+      scarcely possible that the Boy is really coming home
+      to-night," but all the while we hugged the assurance that it
+      was.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Boy is an ordinary snub-nosed, shock-headed urchin of
+      thirteen, with no special claim to distinction save the
+      negative one of being an only child. Yet without his cheerful
+      presence our home seemed empty and dull. Any attempts at
+      merry-making failed to restore its life. Now all was agog for
+      his return. The house was in its most festive trim. Christmas
+      presents were hidden securely away. There was rejoicing
+      downstairs as well as up: the larder shelves were stored with
+      seasonable fare, and every bit of copper and brass sparkled a
+      welcome. Even the kitchen cat sported a ribbon, and had a
+      specially energetic purr ready.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Into the midst of our happy preparations the bad news fell
+      with bomb-like suddenness. The messenger who brought the
+      telegram whistled shrilly and shuffled a breakdown on the
+      doorstep while he waited to hear if there was an answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "He is ill. He can't come. Scarlet fever," one of us said in
+      an odd, flat voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "Scarlet fever. At school. Oh! when can we go to him? When is
+      there a boat?" cried the other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no question of expediency. The Boy lay sick in a
+      foreign land, so we went to him. It was full noon when the
+      news came, and nightfall saw us dashing through the murk of a
+      wild mid-December night towards Dover pier, feeling that only
+      the express speed of the mail train was quick enough for us
+      to breathe in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But even the most apprehensive of journeys may hold its
+      humours. Just at the moment of starting anxious friends
+      assisted a young lady into our carriage. "She was going to
+      Marseilles. Would we kindly see that she got on all right?"
+      We were only going as far as Paris direct. "Well, then, as
+      far as Paris. It would be a great favour." So from Charing
+      Cross to the Gare du Nord, Placidia, as we christened her,
+      became our care.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was a large, handsome girl of about three-and-twenty.
+      What was her reason for journeying unattended to Cairo we
+      know not. Whether she ever reached her destination we are
+      still in doubt, for a more complacently incapable damsel
+      never went a-voyaging. The Saracen maiden who followed her
+      English lover from the Holy Land by crying "London" and
+      "&Agrave; Becket" was scarce so impotent as Placidia; for any
+      information the Saracen maiden had she retained, while
+      Placidia naively admitted that she had already forgotten by
+      which line of steamers her passage through the Mediterranean
+      had been taken.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Placidia had an irrational way of losing her possessions.
+      While yet on her way to the London railway station she had
+      lost her tam-o'-shanter. So perforce, she travelled in a
+      large picture-hat which, although pretty and becoming, was
+      hardly suitable headgear for channel-crossing in mid-winter.
+    </p><a name="image-02"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx10.png" width="400" height="479" alt=
+      "Storm Warning">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      It was a wild night; wet, with a rising north-west gale.
+      Tarpaulined porters swung themselves on to the carriage-steps
+      as we drew up at Dover pier, and warned us not to leave the
+      train, as, owing to the storm, the Calais boat would be an
+      hour late in getting alongside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Ostend packet, lying beside the quay in full sight of the
+      travellers, lurched giddily at her moorings. The fourth
+      occupant of our compartment, a sallow man with yellow
+      whiskers, turned green with apprehension. Not so Placidia.
+      From amongst her chaotic hand-baggage she extracted walnuts
+      and mandarin oranges, and began eating with an appetite that
+      was a direct challenge to the Channel. Bravery or
+      foolhardiness could go no farther.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Providence tempers the wind to the parents who are shorn of
+      their lamb. The tumult of waters left us scatheless, but poor
+      Placidia early paid the penalty of her rashness. She
+      "thought" she was a good sailor&mdash;though she acknowledged
+      that this was her first sea-trip&mdash;and elected to remain
+      on deck. But before the harbour lights had faded behind us a
+      sympathetic mariner supported her limp form&mdash;the
+      feathers of her incongruous hat drooping in unison with their
+      owner&mdash;down the swaying cabin staircase and deposited
+      her on a couch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "Oh! I do wish I hadn't eaten that fruit," she groaned when I
+      offered her smelling-salts. "But then, you know, I was so
+      hungry!"
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the <i>train rapide</i> a little later, Placidia, when
+      arranging her wraps for the night journey, chanced, among the
+      medley of her belongings, upon a missing boat-ticket whose
+      absence at the proper time had threatened complications. She
+      burst into good-humoured laughter at the discovery. "Why,
+      here's the ticket that man made all the fuss about. I really
+      thought he wasn't going to let me land till I found it. Now,
+      I do wonder how it got among my rugs?"
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We seemed to be awake all night, staring with wide, unseeing
+      eyes out into the darkness. Yet the chill before dawn found
+      us blinking sleepily at a blue-bloused porter who, throwing
+      open the carriage door, curtly announced that we were in
+      Paris.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then followed a fruitless search for Placidia's luggage, a
+      hunt which was closed by Placidia recovering her registration
+      ticket (with a fragment of candy adhering to it) from one of
+      the multifarious pockets of her ulster, and finding that the
+      luggage had been registered on to Marseilles. "Will they
+      charge duty on tobacco?" she inquired blandly, as she watched
+      the Customs examination of our things. "I've such a lot of
+      cigars in my boxes."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was an Old-Man-of-the-Sea-like tenacity in Placidia's
+      smiling impuissance. She did not know one syllable of French.
+      A new-born babe could not have revealed itself more utterly
+      incompetent. I verily believe that, despite our haste, we
+      would have ended by escorting Placidia across Paris, and
+      ensconcing her in the Marseilles train, had not Providence
+      intervened in the person of a kindly disposed polyglot
+      traveller. So, leaving Placidia standing the picture of
+      complacent fatuosity in the midst of a group consisting of
+      this new champion and three porters, we sneaked away.
+    </p><a name="image-03"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx12.png" width="250" height="328" align="right"
+      alt="Treasure Trove">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Grey dawn was breaking as we drove towards St. Lazare
+      Station, and the daily life of the city was well begun.
+      Lights were twinkling in the dark interiors of the shops.
+      Through the mysterious atmosphere figures loomed mistily,
+      then vanished into the gloom. But we got no more than a vague
+      impression of our surroundings. Throughout the interminable
+      length of drive across the city, and the subsequent slow
+      train journey, our thoughts were ever in advance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The tardy winter daylight had scarcely come before we were
+      jolting in a <i>fiacre</i> over the stony streets of
+      Versailles. In the gutters, crones were eagerly rummaging
+      among the dust heaps that awaited removal. In France no
+      degradation attaches to open economies. Housewives on their
+      way to fetch Gargantuan loaves or tiny bottles of milk for
+      the matutinal <i>caf&eacute;-au-lait</i> cast searching
+      glances as they passed, to see if among the rubbish something
+      of use to them might not be lurking. And at one alluring
+      mound an old gentleman of absurdly respectable exterior
+      perfunctorily turned over the scraps with the point of his
+      cane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We had heard of a hotel, and the first thing we saw of it we
+      liked. That was a pair of sabots on the mat at the foot of
+      the staircase. Pausing only to remove the dust of travel, we
+      set off to visit our son, walking with timorous haste along
+      the grand old avenue where the school was situated. A little
+      casement window to the left of the wide entrance-door showed
+      a red cross. We looked at it silently, wondering.
+    </p><a name="image-04"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx13.png" width="250" height="348" align="left"
+              alt="The Red Cross in the Window">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      In response to our ring the portal opened mysteriously at
+      touch of the unseen concierge, and we entered. A conference
+      with Monsieur le Directeur, kindly, voluble, tactfully
+      complimentary regarding our halting French, followed. The
+      interview over, we crossed the courtyard our hearts beating
+      quickly. At the top of a little flight of worn stone steps
+      was the door of the school hospital, and under the ivy-twined
+      trellis stood a sweet-faced Franciscan Soeur, waiting to
+      welcome us.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p><a name="image-05"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx14.png" width="400" height="683" alt=
+      "Enter M. Le Docteur">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Passing through a tiny outer room&mdash;an odd combination of
+      dispensary, kitchen, and drawing-room with a red-tiled
+      floor&mdash;we reached the sick-chamber, and saw the Boy. A
+      young compatriot, also a victim of the disease, occupied
+      another bed, but for the first moments we were oblivious of
+      his presence. Raising his fever-flushed face from the
+      pillows, the Boy eagerly stretched out his burning hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "I heard your voices," his hoarse voice murmured contentedly,
+      "and I knew <i>you</i> couldn't be ghosts." Poor child! in
+      the semidarkness of the lonely night-hours phantom voices had
+      haunted him. We of the morning were real.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The good Soeur buzzed a mild frenzy of "Il ne faut pas
+      toucher" about our ears, but, all unheeding, we clasped the
+      hot hands and crooned over him. After the dreary months of
+      separation, love overruled wisdom. Mere prudence was not
+      strong enough to keep us apart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Chief amongst the chaos of thoughts that had assailed us on
+      the reception of the bad news, was the necessity of engaging
+      an English medical man. But at the first sight of the French
+      doctor, as, clad in a long overall of white cotton, he
+      entered the sick-room, our insular prejudice vanished, ousted
+      by complete confidence; a confidence that our future
+      experience of his professional skill and personal kindliness
+      only strengthened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was with sore hearts that, the prescribed <i>cinq
+      minutes</i> ended, we descended the little outside stair.
+      Still, we had seen the Boy; and though we could not nurse
+      him, we were not forbidden to visit him. So we were thankful
+      too.
+    </p><a name="2HCH02"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER II
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      OGAMS
+    </h3><a name="image-06"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx16.png" width="250" height="312" align="left"
+              alt="Perpetual Motion">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Our hotel was distinctively French, and immensely
+      comfortable, in that it had gleaned, and still retained, the
+      creature comforts of a century or two. Thus it combined the
+      luxuries of hot-air radiators and electric light with the
+      enchantment of open wood fires. Viewed externally, the
+      building presented that airy aspect almost universal in
+      Versailles architecture. It was white-tinted, with many
+      windows shuttered without and heavily lace-draped within.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A wide entrance led to the inner courtyard, where orange
+      trees in green tubs, and trelliswork with shrivelled stems
+      and leaves still adhering, suggested that it would be a
+      pleasant summer lounge. Our hotel boasted a <i>grand
+      salon</i>, which opened from the courtyard. It was an
+      elaborately ornate room; but on a chilly December day even a
+      plethora of embellishment cannot be trusted to raise by a
+      single degree the temperature of the apartment it adorns, and
+      the soul turns from a cold hearth, however radiant its
+      garnish of artificial blossoms. A private parlour was
+      scarcely necessary, for, with most French bedrooms, ours
+      shared the composite nature of the accommodation known in a
+      certain class of advertisement as "bed-sitting-room." So it
+      was that during these winter days we made ourselves at home
+      in our chamber.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The shape of the room was a geometrical problem. The three
+      windows each revealed different views, and the remainder of
+      the walls curved amazingly. At first sight the furniture
+      consisted mainly of draperies and looking-glass; for the
+      room, though of ordinary dimensions, owned three large
+      mirrors and nine pairs of curtains. A stately bed, endowed
+      with a huge square down pillow, which served as quilt, stood
+      in a corner. Two armchairs in brocaded velvet and a centre
+      table were additions to the customary articles. A handsome
+      timepiece and a quartette of begilt candelabra decked the
+      white marble mantelpiece, and were duplicated in the large
+      pier glass. The floor was of well-polished wood, a strip of
+      bright-hued carpet before the bed, a second before the
+      washstand, its only coverings. Need I say that the provision
+      for ablutions was one basin and a liliputian ewer, and that
+      there was not a fixed bath in the establishment?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a resting-place full of incongruities; but apart from,
+      or perhaps because of, its oddities it had a cosy
+      attractiveness. From the moment of our entrance we felt at
+      home. I think the logs that purred and crackled on the hearth
+      had much to do with its air of welcome. There is a sense of
+      companionship about a wood fire that more enduring coal
+      lacks. Like a delicate child, the very care it demands
+      nurtures your affection. There was something delightfully
+      foreign and picturesque to our town ideas in the heap of logs
+      that Karl carried up in a great <i>panier</i> and piled at
+      the side of the hearth. Even the little faggots of kindling
+      wood, willow-knotted and with the dry copper-tinted leaves
+      still clinging to the twigs, had a rustic charm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These were pleasant moments when, ascending from the chill
+      outer air, we found our chamber aglow with ruddy firelight
+      that glinted in the mirrors and sparkled on the shining
+      surface of the polished floor; when we drew our chairs up to
+      the hearth, and, scorning the electric light, revelled in the
+      beauty of the leaping and darting flames.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was only in the <i>salle-&agrave;-manger</i> that we saw
+      the other occupants of the hotel; and when we learned that
+      several of them had lived <i>en pension</i> under the roof of
+      the assiduous proprietor for periods varying from five to
+      seven years, we felt ephemeral, mere creatures of a moment,
+      and wholly unworthy of regard.
+    </p><a name="image-07"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx18.png" width="165" height="438" align="right"
+      alt="Ursa Major">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      At eight o'clock Karl brought the <i>petit
+      d&eacute;je&ucirc;ner</i> of coffee and rolls to our room. At
+      eleven, our morning visit to the school hospital over, we
+      breakfasted in the <i>salle-&agrave;-manger</i>, a large
+      bright room, one or other of whose many south windows had
+      almost daily, even in the depth of winter, to be shaded
+      against the rays of the sun. Three chandeliers of glittering
+      crystal starred with electric lights depended from the
+      ceiling. Half a dozen small tables stood down each side; four
+      larger ones occupied the centre of the floor, and were
+      reserved for transient custom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The first thing that struck us as peculiar was that every
+      table save ours was laid for a single person, with a half
+      bottle of wine, red or white, placed ready, in accordance
+      with the known preference of the expected guest. We soon
+      gathered that several of the regular customers lodged outside
+      and, according to the French fashion, visited the hotel for
+      meals only. After the early days of keen anxiety regarding
+      our invalid had passed, we began to study our fellow guests
+      individually and to note their idiosyncrasies. Sitting at our
+      allotted table during the progress of the leisurely meals, we
+      used to watch as one <i>habitu&eacute;</i> after another
+      entered, and, hanging coat and hat upon certain pegs, sat
+      silently down in his accustomed place, with an unvarying air
+      of calm deliberation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Iorson, the swift-footed <i>gar&ccedil;on</i>, would
+      skim over the polished boards to the newcomer, and, tendering
+      the menu, would wait, pencil in hand, until the guest, after
+      careful contemplation, selected his five <i>plats</i> from
+      its comprehensive list.
+    </p><a name="image-08"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx19.png" width="250" height="289" align="left"
+              alt="Meal Considerations">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      The most picturesque man of the company had white moustaches
+      of surprising length. On cold days he appeared enveloped in a
+      fur coat, a garment of shaggy brown which, in conjunction
+      with his hirsute countenance, made his aspect suggest the
+      hero in pantomime renderings of "Beauty and the Beast." But
+      in our hotel there was no Beauty, unless indeed it were
+      Yvette, and Yvette could hardly be termed beautiful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Yvette also lived outside. She did not come to
+      <i>d&eacute;je&ucirc;ner</i>, but every night precisely at a
+      quarter-past seven the farther door would open, and Yvette,
+      her face expressing disgust with the world and all the things
+      thereof, would enter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Yvette was blonde, with neat little features, a pale
+      complexion, and tiny hands that were always ringless. She
+      rang the changes on half a dozen handsome cloaks of different
+      degrees of warmth. To an intelligent observer their wear
+      might have served as a thermometer. Yvette was
+      <i>blas&eacute;e</i>, and her millinery was in sympathy with
+      her feelings. Her hats had all a fringe of disconsolate
+      feathers, whose melancholy plumage emphasised the downward
+      curve of her mouth. To see Yvette enter from the darkness
+      and, seating herself at her solitary table, droop over her
+      plate as though there were nothing in Versailles worth
+      sitting upright for, was to view <i>ennui</i> personified.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Yvette invariably drank white wine, and the food rarely
+      pleased her. She would cast a contemptuous look over the menu
+      offered by the deferential Henri, then turn wearily away,
+      esteeming that no item on its length merited even her most
+      perfunctory consideration. But after one or two despondent
+      glances, Yvette ever made the best of a bad bargain, and
+      ordered quite a comprehensive little dinner, which she ate
+      with the same air of utter disdain. She always concluded by
+      eating an orange dipped in sugar. Even had a special table
+      not been reserved for her, one could have told where Yvette
+      had dined by the bowl of powdered sugar, just as one could
+      have located the man with the fierce moustaches and the fur
+      coat by the presence of his pepper-mill, or the place of
+      "Madame" from her prodigal habit of rending a quarter-yard of
+      the crusty French bread in twain and consuming only the soft
+      inside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From the ignorance of our cursory acquaintance we had judged
+      the French a sociable nation. Our stay at Versailles speedily
+      convinced us of the fallacy of that belief. Nothing could
+      have impressed us so forcibly as did the frigid silence that
+      characterised the company. Many of them had fed there daily
+      for years, yet within the walls of the sunny dining-room none
+      exchanged even a salutation. This unexpected taciturnity in a
+      people whom we had been taught to regard as lively and
+      voluble made us almost ashamed of our own garrulity, and
+      when, in the presence of the silent company, we were tempted
+      to exchange remarks, we found ourselves doing it in hushed
+      voices as though we were in church.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A clearer knowledge, however, showed us that though some
+      unspoken convention rendered the hotel guests oblivious of
+      each other's presence while indoors, beyond the hotel walls
+      they might hold communion. Two retired military men, both
+      wearing the red ribbon of the Legion of Honour, as indeed did
+      most of our <i>habitu&eacute;s</i>, sat at adjacent tables.
+      One, tall and thin, was a Colonel; the other, little and
+      neat, a Colonel also. To the casual gaze they appeared
+      complete strangers, and we had consumed many meals in their
+      society before observing that whenever the tall Colonel had
+      sucked the last cerise from his glass of <i>eau-de-vie</i>,
+      and begun to fold his napkin&mdash;a formidable task, for the
+      serviettes fully deserved the designation later bestowed on
+      them by the Boy, of "young table-cloths"&mdash;the little
+      Colonel made haste to fold his also. Both rose from their
+      chairs at the same instant, and the twain, having received
+      their hats from the attentive Iorson, vanished, still mute,
+      into the darkness together.
+    </p><a name="image-09"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx21.png" width="400" height="416" alt=
+      "The Two Colonels">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Once, to our consternation, the little Colonel replaced his
+      napkin in its ring without waiting for the signal from the
+      tall Colonel. But our apprehension that they, in their
+      dealings in that mysterious outer world which twice daily
+      they sought together, might have fallen into a difference of
+      opinion was dispelled by the little Colonel, who had risen,
+      stepping to his friend and holding out his hand. This the
+      tall Colonel without withdrawing his eyes from <i>Le Journal
+      des D&eacute;bats</i> which he was reading, silently pressed.
+      Then, still without a word spoken or a look exchanged, the
+      little Colonel passed out alone.
+    </p><a name="image-10"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx22.png" width="250" height="290" align="right"
+      alt="The Young and Brave">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      The average age of the Ogams was seventy. True, there was
+      Dunois the Young and Brave, who could not have been more than
+      forty-five. What his name really was we knew not, but
+      something in his comparatively juvenile appearance among the
+      chevaliers suggested the appellation which for lack of a
+      better we retained. Dunois' youth might only be comparative,
+      but his bravery was indubitable; for who among the Ogams but
+      he was daring enough to tackle the
+      <i>p&acirc;t&eacute;-de-foie-gras</i>, or the <i>abattis</i>,
+      a stew composed of the gizzards and livers of fowls? And who
+      but Dunois would have been so reckless as to follow baked
+      mussels and <i>cr&eacute;pinettes</i> with <i>rognons
+      frits</i>?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dunois, too, revealed intrepid leanings toward strange
+      liquors. Sometimes&mdash;it was usually at
+      <i>d&eacute;je&ucirc;ner</i> when he had dined out on the previous
+      evening&mdash;he would demand the wine-list of Iorson, and
+      rejecting the <i>vin blanc</i> or <i>vin rouge</i> which,
+      being <i>compris</i>, contented the others, would order
+      himself something of a choice brand. One of his favourite
+      papers was <i>Le Rire</i>, and Henri, Iorson's youthful
+      assistant, regarded him with admiration.
+    </p><a name="image-11"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx23.png" width="250" height="241" align="left"
+              alt="Malcontent">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      A less attractive presence in the dining-room was Madame.
+      Madame, who was an elderly dame of elephantine girth, had
+      resided in the hotel for half a dozen years, during which
+      period her sole exercise had been taken in slowly descending
+      from her chamber in the upper regions for her meals, and
+      then, leisurely assimilation completed, in yet more slowly
+      ascending. Madame's allotted seat was placed in close
+      proximity to the hot-air register; and though Madame was
+      usually one of the first to enter the dining-room, she was
+      generally the last to leave. Madame's appetite was as
+      animated as her body was lethargic. She always drank her
+      half-bottle of red wine to the dregs, and she invariably
+      concluded with a greengage in brandy. So it was small marvel
+      that, when at last she left her chair to "tortoise" upstairs,
+      her complexion should be two shades darker than when she
+      descended.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Five dishes, irrespective of <i>hors d'oeuvres</i> at
+      luncheon, and <i>potage</i> at dinner, were allowed each
+      guest, and Madame's selection was an affair of time. Our
+      hotel was justly noted for its <i>cuisine</i>, yet on
+      infrequent occasions the food supplied to Madame was not to
+      her mind. At these times the whole establishment suffered
+      until the irascible old lady's taste was suited. One night at
+      dinner Iorson had the misfortune to serve Madame with some
+      turkey that failed to meet with her approval. With the air of
+      an insulted empress, Madame ordered its removal. The
+      conciliatory Iorson obediently carried off the dish and
+      speedily returned, bearing what professed to be another
+      portion. But from the glimpse we got as it passed our table
+      we had a shrewd suspicion that Iorson the wily had merely
+      turned over the piece of turkey and re-served it with a
+      little more gravy and an additional dressing of
+      <i>cressons</i>. Madame, it transpired, shared our
+      suspicions, for this portion also she declined, with renewed
+      indignation. Then followed a long period of waiting, wherein
+      Madame, fidgeting restlessly on her seat, kept fierce eyes
+      fixed on the door through which the viands entered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Just as her impatience threatened to vent itself in action,
+      Iorson appeared bearing a third helping of turkey. Placing it
+      before the irate lady, he fled as though determined to debar
+      a third repudiation. For a moment an air of triumph pervaded
+      Madame's features. Then she began to gesticulate violently,
+      with the evident intention of again attracting Iorson's
+      notice. But the forbearance even of the diplomatic Iorson was
+      at an end. Re-doubling his attentions to the diners at the
+      farther side of the room, he remained resolutely unconscious
+      of Madame's signals, which were rapidly becoming frantic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The less sophisticated Henri, however, feeling a boyish
+      interest in the little comedy, could not resist a curious
+      glance in Madame's direction. That was sufficient. Waving
+      imperiously, Madame compelled his approach, and, moving
+      reluctantly, fearful of the issue, Henri advanced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "Couteau!" hissed Madame. Henri flew to fetch the desired
+      implement, and, realising that Madame had at last been
+      satisfied, we again breathed freely.
+    </p><a name="image-12"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx25.png" width="250" height="381" align="left"
+              alt="The Aristocrat">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      A more attractive personage was a typical old aristocrat,
+      officer of the Legion of Honour, who used to enter, walk with
+      great dignity to his table, eat sparingly of one or two
+      dishes, drink a glass of his <i>vin ordinaire</i> and retire.
+      Sometimes he was accompanied by a tiny spaniel, which
+      occupied a chair beside him; and frequently a middle-aged
+      son, whose bourgeois appearance was in amazing contrast to
+      that of his refined old father, attended him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There were others, less interesting perhaps, but equally
+      self-absorbed. One afternoon, entering the cable car that
+      runs&mdash;for fun, apparently, as it rarely boasted a
+      passenger&mdash;to and from the Trianon, we recognised in its
+      sole occupant an Ogam who during the weeks of our stay had
+      eaten, in evident oblivion of his human surroundings, at the
+      table next to ours. Forgetting that we were without the walls
+      of silence, we expected no greeting; but to our amazement he
+      rose, and, placing himself opposite us, conversed affably and
+      in most excellent English for the rest of the journey. To
+      speak with him was to discover a courteous and travelled
+      gentleman. Yet during our stay in Versailles we never knew
+      him exchange even a bow with any of his fellow Ogams, who
+      were men of like qualifications, though, as he told us, he
+      had taken his meals in the hotel for over five years.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Early in the year our peace was rudely broken by the advent
+      of a commercial man&mdash;a short, grey-haired being of an
+      activity so foreign to our usage that a feeling of unrest was
+      imparted to the <i>salle-&agrave;-manger</i> throughout his
+      stay. His movements were distractingly erratic. In his
+      opinion, meals were things to be treated casually, to be
+      consumed haphazard at any hour that chanced to suit. He did
+      not enter the dining-room at the exact moment each day as did
+      the Ogams. He would rush in, throw his hat on a peg, devour
+      some food with unseemly haste, and depart in less time than
+      it took the others to reach the <i>l&eacute;gumes</i>.
+    </p><a name="image-13"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx26.png" width="400" height="465" alt=
+      "Papa, Mama et B&eacute;b&eacute;">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      He was hospitable too, and had a disconcerting way of
+      inviting guests to luncheon or dinner, and then forgetting
+      that he had done so. One morning a stranger entered, and
+      after a brief conference with Iorson, was conducted to the
+      commercial man's table to await his arrival. The regular
+      customers took their wonted places, and began in their
+      leisurely fashion to breakfast, and still the visitor sat
+      alone, starting up expectantly every time a door opened, then
+      despondently resuming his seat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At last Iorson, taking compassion, urged the neglected guest
+      to while away his period of waiting by trifling with the
+      <i>hors-d'oeuvres</i>. He was proceeding to allay the pangs
+      of hunger with selections from the tray of anchovies,
+      sardines, pickled beet, and sliced sausage, when his host
+      entered, voluble and irrepressible as ever. The dignified
+      Ogams shuddered inwardly as his strident voice awoke the
+      echoes of the room, and their already stiff limbs became
+      rigid with disapproval.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In winter, transient visitors but rarely occupied one or
+      other of the square centre tables, though not infrequently a
+      proud father and mother who had come to visit a soldier son
+      at the barracks, brought him to the hotel for a meal, and for
+      a space the radiance of blue and scarlet and the glint of
+      steel cast a military glamour over the staid company.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      An amusing little circumstance to us onlookers was that
+      although the supply of cooked food seemed equal to any
+      demand, the arrival of even a trio of unexpected guests to
+      dinner invariably caused a dearth of bread. For on their
+      advent Iorson would dash out bareheaded into the night, to
+      reappear in an incredibly short time carrying a loaf nearly
+      as tall as himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One morning a stalwart young Briton brought to breakfast a
+      pretty English cousin, on leave of absence from her
+      boarding-school. His knowledge of French was limited. When
+      anything was wanted he shouted "Gar&ccedil;on!" in a lordly
+      voice, but it was the pretty cousin who gave the order.
+      <i>D&eacute;je&ucirc;ner</i> over, they departed in the
+      direction of the Ch&acirc;teau. And at sunset as we chanced
+      to stroll along the Boulevard de la Reine, we saw the pretty
+      cousin, all the gaiety fled from her face, bidding her escort
+      farewell at the gate of a Pension pour Demoiselles. The ball
+      was over. Poor little Cinderella was perforce returning to
+      the dust and ashes of learning.
+    </p><a name="2HCH03"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p><a name="image-14"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx28.png" width="500" height="343" alt=
+      "Juvenile Progress">
+    </center>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER III
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      THE TOWN
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      The English-speaking traveller finds Versailles vastly more
+      foreign than the Antipodes. He may voyage for many weeks, and
+      at each distant stopping-place find his own tongue spoken
+      around him, and his conventions governing society. But let
+      him leave London one night, cross the Channel at its
+      narrowest&mdash;and most turbulent&mdash;and sunrise will
+      find him an alien in a land whose denizens differ from him in
+      language, temperament, dress, food, manners, and customs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Of a former visit to Versailles we had retained little more
+      than the usual tourist's recollection of a hurried run
+      through a palace of fatiguing magnificence, a confusing peep
+      at the Trianons, a glance around the gorgeous state
+      equipages, an unsatisfactory meal at one of the open-air
+      <i>caf&eacute;s</i>, and a scamper back to Paris. But our
+      winter residence in the quaint old town revealed to us the
+      existence of a life that is all its own&mdash;a life widely
+      variant, in its calm repose, from the bustle and gaiety of
+      the capital, but one that is replete with charm, and
+      abounding in picturesque-interest.
+    </p><a name="image-15"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx29.png" width="400" height="480" alt=
+      "Automoblesse Oblige">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Versailles is not ancient; it is old, completely old. Since
+      the fall of the Second Empire it has stood still. Most of the
+      clocks have run down, as though they realised the futility of
+      trying to keep pace with the rest of the world. The future
+      merges into the present, the present fades into the past, and
+      still the clocks of Versailles point to the same long
+      eventide.
+    </p><a name="image-16"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx30.png" width="250" height="392" align="right"
+      alt="Sable Garb">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      The proximity of Paris is evinced only by the vividly tinted
+      automobiles that make Versailles their goal. Even they rarely
+      tarry in the old town, but, turning at the Ch&acirc;teau
+      gates, lose no time in retracing their impetuous flight
+      towards a city whose usages accord better with their creed of
+      feverish hurry-scurry than do the conventions of reposeful
+      Versailles. And these fiery chariots of modernity, with their
+      ghoulish, fur-garbed, and hideously spectacled occupants,
+      once their raucous, cigale-like birr-r-r has died away in the
+      distance, leave infinitely less impression on the placid life
+      of Versailles than do their wheels on the roads they
+      traverse. Under the grand trees of the wide avenues the
+      townsfolk move quietly about, busying themselves with their
+      own affairs and practising their little economies as they
+      have been doing any time during the last century.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Perhaps it was the emphatic and demonstrative nature of the
+      mourning worn that gave us the idea that the better-class
+      female population of Versailles consisted chiefly of widows.
+      When walking abroad we seemed incessantly to encounter
+      widows: widows young and old, from the aged to the absurdly
+      immature. It was only after a period of bewilderment that it
+      dawned upon us that the sepulchral garb and heavy crape veils
+      reaching from head to heel were not necessarily the emblems
+      of widowhood, but might signify some state of minor
+      bereavement. In Britain a display of black such as is an
+      everyday sight at Versailles is undreamt of, and one saw more
+      crape veils in a day in Versailles than in London in a week.
+      Little girls, though their legs might be uncovered, had their
+      chubby features shrouded in disfiguring gauze and to our
+      unaccustomed foreign eyes a genuine widow represented nothing
+      more shapely than a more or less stubby pillar festooned with
+      crape.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But for an inborn conviction that a frugal race like the
+      French would not invest in a plethora of mourning garb only
+      to cast it aside after a few months' wear, and that therefore
+      the period of wearing the willow must be greatly protracted,
+      we would have been haunted by the idea that the adult male
+      mortality of Versailles was enormous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "Do they wear such deep mourning for all relatives?" I asked
+      our hotel proprietor, who had just told us that during the
+      first month of mourning the disguising veils were worn over
+      the faces.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Monsieur shook his sleek head gravely, "But no, Madame, not
+      for all. For a husband, yes; for a father or mother, yes; for
+      a sister or brother, an uncle or aunt, yes; but for a cousin,
+      <i>no</i>."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He pronounced the <i>no</i> so emphatically as almost to
+      convince us of his belief that in refusing to mourn in the
+      most lugubrious degree for cousins the Versaillese acted with
+      praiseworthy self-denial.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There seemed to be no medium between sackcloth and
+      gala-dress. We seldom noted the customary degrees of
+      half-mourning. Plain colours were evidently unpopular and
+      fancy tartans of the most flamboyant hues predominated
+      amongst those who, during a spell of, say, three years had
+      been fortunate enough not to lose a parent, sister, brother,
+      uncle, or aunt. A perfectly natural reaction appeared to urge
+      the <i>ci-devant</i> mourners to robe themselves in lively
+      checks and tartans. It was as though they said&mdash;"Here at
+      last is our opportunity for gratifying our natural taste in
+      colours. It will probably be of but short duration. Therefore
+      let us select a combination of all the most brilliant tints
+      and wear them, for who knows how soon that gruesome pall of
+      woe may again enshroud us."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Probably it was the vicinity of our hotel to the Church of
+      Notre Dame that, until we discovered its brighter side, led
+      us to esteem Versailles a veritable city of the dead, for on
+      our bi-daily walks to visit the invalids we were almost
+      certain to encounter a funeral procession either approaching
+      or leaving Notre Dame. And on but rare occasions was the
+      great central door undraped with the sepulchral insignia
+      which proclaimed that a Mass for the dead was in prospect or
+      in progress. Sometimes the sable valance and porti&egrave;res
+      were heavily trimmed and fringed with silver; at others there
+      was only the scantiest display of time-worn black cloth.
+    </p><a name="image-17"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx32.png" width="500" height="341" alt=
+      "A Football Team">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      The humblest funeral was affecting and impressive. As the sad
+      little procession moved along the streets&mdash;the wayfarers
+      reverently uncovering and soldiers saluting as it
+      passed&mdash;the dirge-like chant of the <i>Miserere</i>
+      never failed to fill my eyes with unbidden tears of sympathy
+      for the mourners, who, with bowed heads, walked behind the
+      wreath-laden hearse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Despite the abundant emblems of woe, Versailles can never
+      appear other than bright and attractive. Even in mid-winter
+      the skies were clear, and on the shortest days the sun seldom
+      forgot to cast a warm glow over the gay, white-painted
+      houses. And though the women's dress tends towards
+      depression, the brilliant military uniforms make amends.
+      There are 12,000 soldiers stationed in Versailles; and where
+      a fifth of the population is gorgeous in scarlet and blue and
+      gold, no town can be accused of lacking colour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Next to the redundant manifestations of grief, the thing that
+      most impressed us was the rigid economy practised in even the
+      smallest details of expenditure. Among the lower classes
+      there is none of that aping of fashion so prevalent in
+      prodigal England; the different social grades have each a
+      distinctive dress and are content to wear it. Among the men,
+      blouses of stout blue cotton and sabots are common. Sometimes
+      velveteen trousers, whose original tint years of wear have
+      toned to some exquisite shade of heliotrope, and a russet
+      coat worn with a fur cap and red neckerchief, compose an
+      effect that for harmonious colouring would be hard to beat.
+      The female of his species, as is the case in all natural
+      animals, is content to be less adorned. Her skirt is black,
+      her apron blue. While she is young, her neatly dressed hair,
+      even in the coldest weather, is guiltless of covering. As her
+      years increase she takes her choice of three head-dresses,
+      and to shelter her grey locks selects either a black knitted
+      hood, a checked cotton handkerchief, or a white cap of
+      ridiculously unbecoming design.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No French workaday father need fear that his earnings will be
+      squandered on such perishable adornments as feathers,
+      artificial flowers, or ribbons. The purchases of his spouse
+      are certain to be governed by extreme frugality. She selects
+      the family raiment with a view to durability. Flimsy finery
+      that the sun would fade, shoddy materials that a shower of
+      rain would ruin, offer no temptations to her. When she
+      expends a few <i>sous</i> on the cutting of her boy's hair,
+      she has it cropped until his cranium resembles the soft,
+      furry skin of a mole, thus rendering further outlay in this
+      respect unlikely for months. And when she buys a flannel
+      shirt, a six-inch strip of the stuff, for future mending, is
+      always included in the price.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But with all this economy there is an air of comfort, a
+      complete absence of squalor. In cold weather the school-girls
+      wear snug hoods, or little fur turbans; and boys have the
+      picturesque and almost indestructible b&eacute;rets of cloth
+      or corduroy. Cloth boots that will conveniently slip inside
+      sabots for outdoor use are greatly in vogue, and the
+      comfortable Capuchin cloaks&mdash;whose peaked hood can be
+      drawn over the head, thus obviating the use of
+      umbrellas&mdash;are favoured by both sexes and all ages.
+    </p><a name="image-18"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx34.png" width="250" height="343" align="right"
+      alt="Mistress and Maid">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      As may be imagined, little is spent on luxuries. Vendors of
+      frivolities know better than to waste time tempting those
+      provident people. On one occasion only did I see money parted
+      with lightly, and in that case the bargain appeared
+      astounding. One Sunday morning an enterprising huckster of
+      gimcrack jewellery, venturing out from Paris, had set down
+      his strong box on the verge of the market square, and,
+      displaying to the admiring eyes of the country folks, ladies'
+      and gentlemen's watches with chains complete, in the most
+      dazzling of aureate metal, sold them at six sous apiece as
+      quickly as he could hand them out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Living is comparatively cheap in Versailles; though, as in
+      all places where the cost of existence is low, it must be
+      hard to earn a livelihood there. By far the larger proportion
+      of the community reside in flats, which can be rented at sums
+      that rise in accordance with the accommodation but are in all
+      cases moderate. Housekeeping in a flat, should the owner so
+      will it, is ever conducive to economy, and life in a French
+      provincial town is simple and unconventional.
+    </p><a name="image-19"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx35.png" width="250" height="278" align="left"
+              alt="Sage and Onions">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Bread, wine, and vegetables, the staple foods of the nation,
+      are good and inexpensive. For 40 centimes one may purchase a
+      bottle of <i>vin de gard</i>, a thin tipple, doubtless; but
+      what kind of claret could one buy for fourpence a quart at
+      home? <i>Graves</i> I have seen priced at 50 centimes,
+      <i>Barsac</i> at 60, and <i>eau de vie</i> is plentiful at 1
+      franc 20!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fish are scarce, and beef is supposed to be dear; but when
+      butter, eggs, and cheese bulk so largely in the diet, the
+      half chicken, the scrap of tripe, the slice of garlic
+      sausage, the tiny cut of beef for the <i>ragout</i>, cannot
+      be heavy items. Everything eatable is utilised, and many
+      weird edibles are sold; for the French can contrive tasty
+      dishes out of what in Britain would be thrown aside as offal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On three mornings a week&mdash;Sunday, Tuesday, and
+      Friday&mdash;the presence of the open-air market rouses
+      Versailles from her dormouse-like slumber and galvanises her
+      into a state of activity that lasts for several hours. Long
+      before dawn, the roads leading townwards are busy with all
+      manner of vehicles, from the great waggon drawn by four white
+      horses driven tandem, and laden with a moving stack of hay,
+      to the ramshackle donkey-cart conveying half a score of
+      cabbages, a heap of dandelions grubbed from the meadows, and
+      the owner.
+    </p><a name="image-20"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx36.png" width="400" height="440" alt="Marketing">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      By daybreak the market square under the leafless trees
+      presents a lively scene. There are stalls sacred to poultry,
+      to butter, eggs, and cheese; but the vegetable kingdom
+      predominates. Flanked by bulwarks of greens and bundles of
+      leeks of incredible whiteness and thickness of stem, sit the
+      saleswomen, their heads swathed in gay cotton kerchiefs, and
+      the ground before them temptingly spread with little heaps of
+      corn salad, of chicory, and of yellow endive placed in
+      adorable contrast to the scarlet carrots, blood-red beetroot,
+      pinky-fawn onions, and glorious orange-hued pumpkins; while
+      ready to hand are measures of white or mottled haricot beans,
+      of miniature Brussels sprouts, and of pink or yellow
+      potatoes, an esculent that in France occupies a very
+      unimportant place compared with that it holds amongst the
+      lower classes in Britain.
+    </p><a name="image-21"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx37.png" width="400" height="457" alt=
+      "Private Boxes">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      In Versailles Madame does her own marketing, her
+      maid&mdash;in sabots and neat but usually hideous
+      cap&mdash;accompanying her, basket laden. From stall to stall
+      Madame passes, buying a roll of creamy butter wrapped in
+      fresh leaves here, a fowl there, some eggs from the wrinkled
+      old dame who looks so swart and witch-like in contrast to her
+      stock of milk-white eggs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame makes her purchases judiciously&mdash;time is not a
+      valuable commodity in Versailles&mdash;and finishes, when the
+      huge black basket is getting heavy even for the strong arms
+      of the squat little maid, by buying a mess of cooked spinach
+      from the pretty girl whose red hood makes a happy spot of
+      colour among the surrounding greenery, and a measure of
+      onions from the profound-looking sage who garners a winter
+      livelihood from the summer produce of his fields.
+    </p><a name="image-22"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx38.png" width="400" height="280" alt=
+      "A Foraging Party">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Relations with uncooked food are, in Versailles,
+      distinguished by an unwonted intimacy. No one, however
+      dignified his station or appearance, is ashamed of purchasing
+      the materials for his dinner in the open market, or of
+      carrying them home exposed to the view of the world through
+      the transpicuous meshes of a string bag. The portly gentleman
+      with the fur coat and waxed moustaches, who looks a general
+      at least, and is probably a tram-car conductor, bears his
+      bunch of turnips with an air that dignifies the office, just
+      as the young sub-lieutenant in the light blue cloak and red
+      cap and trousers carries his mother's apples and lettuces
+      without a thought of shame. And it is easy to guess the
+      nature of the <i>d&eacute;je&ucirc;ner</i> of this <i>simple
+      soldat</i> from the long loaf, the bottle of <i>vin
+      ordinaire</i>, and the onions that form the contents of his
+      net. In the street it was a common occurrence to encounter
+      some non-commissioned officer who, entrusted with the
+      catering for his mess, did his marketing accompanied by two
+      underlings, who bore between them the great open basket
+      destined to hold his purchases.
+    </p><a name="image-23"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx39.png" width="250" height="327" align="left"
+              alt="A Thriving Merchant">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      A picturesque appearance among the hucksters of the market
+      square is the <i>bo&icirc;te de carton</i> seller.
+      Blue-bloused, with his stock of lavender or brown bandboxes
+      strapped in a cardboard Tower of Pisa on his back, he parades
+      along, his wares finding ready sale; for his visits are
+      infrequent, and if one does not purchase at the moment, as
+      does Madame, the opportunity is gone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The spirit of camaraderie is strong amongst the good folks of
+      the market. One morning the Artist had paused a moment to
+      make a rough sketch of a plump, affable man who, shadowed by
+      the green cotton awning of his stall, was selling segments of
+      round flat cheeses of goat's milk; vile-smelling compounds
+      that, judged from their outer coating of withered leaves,
+      straw, and dirt, would appear to have been made in a stable
+      and dried on a rubbish heap. The subject of the jotting, busy
+      with his customers, was all unconscious; but an old crone who
+      sat, her feet resting on a tiny charcoal stove, amidst a
+      circle of decadent greens, detecting the Artist's action,
+      became excited, and after eyeing him uneasily for a moment,
+      confided her suspicions as to his ulterior motive to a
+      round-faced young countryman who retailed flowers close by.
+      He, recognising us as customers&mdash;even then we were laden
+      with his violets and mimosa&mdash;merely smiled at her
+      concern. But his apathy only served to heighten Madame's
+      agitation. She was unwilling to leave her snug seat yet felt
+      that her imperative duty lay in acquainting Monsieur du
+      Fromage with the inexplicable behaviour of the inquisitive
+      foreigner. But the nefarious deed was already accomplished,
+      and as we moved away our last glimpse was of the little stove
+      standing deserted, while Madame hastened across the street in
+      her clattering sabots to warn her friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The bustle of the market is soon ended. By ten o'clock the
+      piles of vegetables are sensibly diminished. By half-past ten
+      the white-capped maid-servants have carried the heavy baskets
+      home, and are busy preparing lunch. At eleven o'clock the
+      sharp boy whose stock-in-trade consisted of three trays of
+      snails stuffed <i>&agrave; la</i> Bourgogne has sold all the
+      large ones at 45 centimes a dozen, all the small at 25, and
+      quite two-thirds of the medium-sized at 35 centimes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The clock points to eleven. The sun is high now. The vendors
+      awaken to the consciousness of hunger, and Madame of the
+      <i>pommes frites</i> stall, whose assistant dexterously cuts
+      the peeled tubers into strips, is fully occupied in draining
+      the crisp golden shreds from the boiling fat and handing them
+      over, well sprinkled with salt and pepper, to avid customers,
+      who devour them smoking hot, direct from their paper
+      cornucopias.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Long before the first gloom of the early mid-winter dusk, all
+      has been cleared away. The rickety stalls have been
+      demolished; the unsold remainder of the goods disposed of;
+      the worthy country folks, their pockets heavy with
+      <i>sous</i>, are well on their journey homewards, and only a
+      litter of straw, of cabbage leaves and leek tops remains as
+      evidence of the lively market of the morning.
+    </p><a name="2HCH04"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p><a name="image-24"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx41.png" width="500" height="330" alt=
+      "Chestnuts in the Avenue">
+    </center>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IV
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      OUR ARBRE DE NO&Euml;L
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      We bought it on the Sunday morning from old Grand'mere Gomard
+      in the Avenue de St. Cloud.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was not a noble specimen of a Christmas-tree. Looked at
+      with cold, unimaginative eyes, it might have been considered
+      lopsided; undersized it undoubtedly was. Yet a pathetic
+      familiarity in the desolate aspect of the little tree aroused
+      our sympathy as no rare horticultural trophy ever could.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Some Christmas fairy must have whispered to Grand'mere to
+      grub up the tiny tree and to include it in the stock she was
+      taking into Versailles on the market morning. For there it
+      was, its roots stuck securely into a big pot, looking like
+      some forlorn forest bantling among the garden plants.
+    </p><a name="image-25"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx42.png" width="400" height="569" alt=
+      "The Tree Vendor">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Grand'mere Gomard had established herself in a cosy nook at
+      the foot of one of the great leafless trees of the Avenue.
+      Straw hurdles were cunningly arranged to form three sides of
+      a square, in whose midst she was seated on a rush-bottomed
+      chair, like a queen on a humble throne. Her head was bound by
+      a gaily striped kerchief, and her feet rested snugly on a
+      charcoal stove. Her merchandise, which consisted of half a
+      dozen pots of pink and white primulas, a few spotted or
+      crimson cyclamen, sundry lettuce and cauliflower plants, and
+      some roots of pansies and daisies, was grouped around her.
+    </p><a name="image-26"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx43.png" width="250" height="455" align="left"
+              alt="The Tree-bearer">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      The primulas and cyclamen, though their pots were shrouded in
+      pinafores of white paper skilfully calculated to conceal any
+      undue lankiness of stem, left us unmoved. But the sight of
+      the starveling little fir tree reminded us that in the school
+      hospital lay two sick boys whose roseate dreams of London and
+      holidays had suddenly changed to the knowledge that weeks of
+      isolation and imprisonment behind the window-blind with the
+      red cross lay before them. If we could not give them the
+      longed-for home Christmas, we could at least give them a
+      Christmas-tree.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sight of foreign customers for Grand'mere Gomard speedily
+      collected a small group of interested spectators. A knot of
+      children relinquished their tantalising occupation of hanging
+      round the pan of charcoal over whose glow chestnuts were
+      cracking appetisingly, and the stall of the lady who with
+      amazing celerity fried pancakes on a hot plate, and sold them
+      dotted with butter and sprinkled with sugar to the lucky
+      possessors of a <i>sou</i>. Even the sharp urchin who
+      presided over the old red umbrella, which, reversed, with the
+      ferule fixed in a cross-bar of wood, served as a receptacle
+      for sheets of festive note-paper embellished with lace edges
+      and further adorned with coloured scraps, temporarily
+      entrusting a juvenile sister with his responsibilities, added
+      his presence to our court.
+    </p><a name="image-27"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx44.png" width="165" height="350" align="right"
+      alt="Rosine">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Christmas-trees seemed not to be greatly in demand in
+      Versailles, and many were the whispered communings as to what
+      <i>les Anglais</i> proposed doing with the tree after they
+      had bought it. When the transaction was completed and
+      Grand'mere Gomard had exchanged the tree, with a sheet of
+      <i>La Patrie</i> wrapped round its pot, for a franc and our
+      thanks, the interest increased. We would require some one to
+      carry our purchase, and each of the bright-eyed,
+      short-cropped Jeans and Pierres was eager to offer himself.
+      But our selection was already made. A slender boy in a
+      <i>b&eacute;ret</i> and black pinafore, who had been our
+      earliest spectator, was singled out and entrusted with the
+      conveyance of the <i>arbre de No&euml;l</i> to our hotel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The fact that it had met with approbation appeared to
+      encourage the little tree. The change may have been
+      imaginary, but from the moment it passed into our possession
+      the branches seemed less despondent, the needles more erect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "Will you put toys on it?" the youthful porter asked
+      suddenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "Yes; it is for a sick boy&mdash;a boy who has fever. Have
+      you ever had an <i>arbre de No&euml;l</i>?"
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "<i>Jamais</i>," was his conclusive reply: the tone thereof
+      suggesting that that was a felicity quite beyond the range of
+      possibility.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The tree secured, there began the comparatively difficult
+      work of finding the customary ornaments of glass and glitter
+      to deck it. A fruitless search had left us almost in despair,
+      when, late on Monday afternoon, we joyed to discover
+      miniature candles of red, yellow, and blue on the open-air
+      stall in front of a toy-store. A rummage in the interior of
+      the shop procured candle clips, and a variety of glittering
+      bagatelles. Laden with treasure, we hurried back to the
+      hotel, and began the work of decoration in preparation for
+      the morning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      During its short stay in our room at the hotel, the erstwhile
+      despised little tree met with an adulation that must have
+      warmed the heart within its rough stem. When nothing more
+      than three coloured glass globes, a gilded walnut, and a
+      gorgeous humming-bird with wings and tail of spun glass had
+      been suspended by narrow ribbon from its branches, Rosine,
+      the pretty Swiss chambermaid, chancing to enter the room with
+      letters, was struck with admiration and pronounced it
+      "tr&egrave;s belle!"
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Karl bringing in a fresh <i>panier</i> of logs when the
+      adorning was complete, and silly little delightful baubles
+      sparkled and twinkled from every spray, putting down his
+      burden, threw up his hands in amazement and declared the
+      <i>arbre de No&euml;l</i> "magnifique!"
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This alien Christmas-tree had an element all its own. When we
+      were searching for knick-knacks the shops were full of tiny
+      Holy Babes lying cradled in waxen innocence in mangers of
+      yellow corn. One of these little effigies we had bought
+      because they pleased us. And when, the decoration of the tree
+      being nearly finished, the tip of the centre stem standing
+      scraggily naked called for covering, what more fitting than
+      that the dear little Sacred <i>B&eacute;b&eacute;</i> in his
+      nest of golden straw should have the place of honour?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was late on Christmas Eve before our task was ended. But
+      next morning when Karl, carrying in our <i>petit
+      d&eacute;je&ucirc;ner</i>, turned on the electric light, and
+      our anxious gaze sought our work, we found it good.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then followed a hurried packing of the loose presents; and, a
+      <i>fiacre</i> having been summoned, the tree which had
+      entered the room in all humility passed out transmogrified
+      beyond knowledge. Rosine, duster in hand, leant over the
+      banisters of the upper landing to watch its descent. Karl saw
+      it coming and flew to open the outer door for its better
+      egress. Even the stout old driver of the red-wheeled cab
+      creaked cumbrously round on his box to look upon its
+      beauties.
+    </p><a name="image-28"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx46.png" width="400" height="499" alt=
+      "Alms and the Lady">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      The Market was busy in the square as we rattled through. From
+      behind their battlemented wares the country mice waged wordy
+      war with the town mice over the price of merchandise. But on
+      this occasion we were too engrossed to notice a scene whose
+      picturesque humour usually fascinated us, for as the carriage
+      jogged over the rough roads the poor little <i>arbre de
+      No&euml;l</i> palpitated convulsively. The gewgaws clattered
+      like castanets, as though in frantic expostulation, and the
+      radiant spun-glass humming-birds quivered until we expected
+      them to break from their elastic fetters and fly away. The
+      green and scarlet one with the gold-flecked wings fell on the
+      floor and rolled under the seat just as the cab drew up at
+      the great door of the school.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two Red-Cross prisoners who, now that the dominating heat
+      of fever had faded, were thinking wistfully of the forbidden
+      joys of home, had no suspicion of our intention, and we
+      wished to surprise them. So, burdened with our treasure, we
+      slipped in quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From her lodge window the concierge nodded approval. And at
+      the door of the hospital the good Soeur received us, a flush
+      of pleasure glorifying her tranquil face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then followed a moment wherein the patients were ordered to
+      shut their eyes, to reopen them upon the vision splendid of
+      the <i>arbre de No&euml;l</i>. Perhaps it was the contrast to
+      the meagre background of the tiny school-hospital room, with
+      its two white beds and bare walls, but, placed in full view
+      on the centre table, the tree was almost imposing. Standing
+      apart from Grand'mere's primulas and cyclamen as though,
+      conscious of its own inferiority, it did not wish to obtrude,
+      it had looked dejected, miserable. During its sojourn at the
+      hotel the appreciation of its meanness had troubled us. But
+      now, in the shabby little chamber, where there were no rival
+      attractions to detract from its glory, we felt proud of it.
+      It was just the right size for the surroundings. A two-franc
+      tree, had Grand'mere possessed one, would have been
+      Brobdignagian and pretentious.
+    </p><a name="image-29"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx48.png" width="400" height="482" alt="Adoration">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      A donor who is handicapped by the knowledge that the gifts he
+      selects must within a few weeks be destroyed by fire, is
+      rarely lavish in his outlay. Yet our presents, wrapped in
+      white paper and tied with blue ribbons, when arranged round
+      the flower-pot made a wonderful show, There were mounted
+      Boers who, when you pressed the ball at the end of the
+      air-tube, galloped in a wobbly, uncertain fashion. The
+      invalids had good fun later trying races with them, and the
+      Boy professed to find that his Boer gained an accelerated
+      speed when he whispered "Bobs" to him. There were tales of
+      adventure and flasks of eau-de-Cologne and smart virile
+      pocket-books, one red morocco, the other blue. We regretted
+      the pocket-books; but their possession made the recipients
+      who, boylike, took no heed for the cleansing fires of the
+      morrow, feel grown-up at once. And they yearned for the
+      advent of the first day of the year, that they might begin
+      writing in their new diaries. For the Sister there was a
+      miniature gold consecrated medal. It was a small tribute of
+      our esteem, but one that pleased the devout recipient.
+    </p><a name="image-30"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx49a.png" width="165" height="381" align="left"
+      alt="Thankfulness">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Suspended among the purely ornamental trinkets of the tree
+      hung tiny net bags of crystallised violets and many large
+      chocolates rolled up in silver paper. The boys, who had
+      subsisted for several days on nothing more exciting than
+      boiled milk, openly rejoiced when they caught sight of the
+      sweets. But to her patients' disgust, the Soeur, who had a
+      pretty wit of her own, promptly frustrated their intentions
+      by counting the dainties.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "I count the chocolates. They are good boys, wise boys,
+      honest boys, and I have every confidence in them, but&mdash;I
+      count the chocolates!" said the Soeur.
+    </p><a name="image-31"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx49b.png" width="165" height="266" align="right"
+      alt="One of the Devout">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      As we passed back along the Rue de la Paroisse, worshippers
+      were flocking in and out of Notre Dame, running the gauntlet
+      of the unsavoury beggars who, loudly importunate, thronged
+      the portals. Before the quiet nook wherein, under a
+      gold-bestarred canopy, was the tableau of the Infant Jesus in
+      the stable, little children stood in wide-eyed adoration, and
+      older people gazed with mute devotion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Some might deem the little spectacle theatrical, and there
+      was a slight irrelevance in the pot-plants that were grouped
+      along the foreground, but none could fail to be impressed by
+      the silent reverence of the congregation. No service was in
+      process, yet many believers knelt at prayer. Here a pretty
+      girl returned thanks for evident blessings received; there an
+      old spinster, the narrowness of whose means forbade her
+      expending a couple of sous on the hire of a chair, knelt on
+      the chilly flags and murmured words of gratitude for benefits
+      whereof her appearance bore no outward indication.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We had left the prisoners to the enjoyment of their newly
+      acquired property in the morning. At gloaming we again
+      mounted the time-worn outside stair leading to the chamber
+      whose casement bore the ominous red cross. The warm glow of
+      firelight filled the room, scintillating in the glittering
+      facets of the baubles on the tree; and from their pillows two
+      pale-faced boys&mdash;boys who, despite their lengthening
+      limbs were yet happily children at heart&mdash;watched
+      eager-eyed while the sweet-faced Soeur, with reverential
+      care, lit the candles that surrounded the Holy
+      <i>B&eacute;b&eacute;</i>.
+    </p><a name="2HCH05"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER V
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      LE JOUR DE L'ANN&Eacute;E
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      The closing days of 1900 had been unusually mild. Versailles
+      townsfolk, watching the clear skies for sign of change,
+      declared that it would be outside all precedent if Christmas
+      week passed without snow. But, defiant of rule, sunshine
+      continued, and the new century opened cloudless and bright.
+    </p><a name="image-32"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx51.png" width="250" height="446" align="left"
+              alt="De L'eau Chaude">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Karl, entering with hot water, gave us seasonable greeting,
+      and as we descended the stair, pretty Rosine, brushing boots
+      at the open window of the landing, also wished us a smiling
+      <i>bonne nouvelle ann&eacute;e</i>. But within or without
+      there was little token of gaiety. Sundry booths for the sale
+      of gingerbread and cheap <i>jouets</i>, which had been
+      erected in the Avenue de St. Cloud, found business
+      languishing, though a stalwart countryman in blouse and
+      sabots, whose stock-in-trade consisted of whirligigs
+      fashioned in the semblance of <i>moulins rouges</i> and
+      grotesque blue Chinamen which he carried stuck into a straw
+      wreath fixed on a tall pole, had no lack of custom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The great food question never bulks so largely in the public
+      interest as at the close of a year, so perhaps it was but
+      natural that the greatest appreciation of the festive
+      traditions of the season should be evinced by the shops
+      devoted to the sale of provender. Turkeys sported scarlet
+      bows on their toes as though anticipating a dance rather than
+      the oven; and by their sides sausages, their somewhat
+      plethoric waists girdled by pink ribbon sashes, seemed ready
+      to join them in the frolic. In one cookshop window a trio of
+      plaster nymphs who stood ankle-deep in a pool of crimped
+      green paper, upheld a huge garland of cunningly moulded wax
+      roses, dahlias, and lilac, above which perched a pheasant
+      regnant. This trophy met with vast approbation until a rival
+      establishment across the way, not to be outdone, exhibited a
+      centrepiece of unparalleled originality, consisting as it did
+      of a war scene modelled entirely in lard. Entrenched behind
+      the battlements of the fort crowning an eminence, Boers
+      busied themselves with cannon whose aim was carefully
+      directed towards the admiring spectators outside the window,
+      not at the British troops who were essaying to scale the
+      greasy slopes. Half way up the hill, a miniature train
+      appeared from time to time issuing from an absolutely
+      irrelevant tunnel, and, progressing at the rate of quite a
+      mile an hour, crawled into the corresponding tunnel on the
+      other side. At the base of the hill British soldiers, who
+      seemed quite cognisant of the utter futility of the Boer
+      gunnery, were complacently driving off cattle. Captious
+      critics might have taken exception to the fact that the waxen
+      camellias adorning the hill were nearly as big as the
+      battlements, and considerably larger than the engine of the
+      train. But fortunately detractors were absent, and such
+      trifling discrepancies did not lessen the genuine delight
+      afforded the spectators by this unique design which, as a
+      card proudly informed the world, was entirely the work of the
+      employ&eacute;s of the firm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was in a p&acirc;tisserie in the Rue de la Paroisse that
+      we noticed an uninviting compound labelled "Pudding Anglais,
+      2 fr. 1/2 kilo." A little thought led us to recognise in this
+      amalgamation a travesty of our old friend plum-pudding; but
+      so revolting was its dark, bilious-looking exterior that we
+      felt its claim to be accounted a compatriot almost insulting.
+      And it was with secret gratification that towards the close
+      of January we saw the same stolid, unhappy blocks awaiting
+      purchasers.
+    </p><a name="image-33"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx53.png" width="250" height="370" align="left"
+              alt="The Mill">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      The presence of the customary Tuesday market kept the streets
+      busy till noon. But when the square was again empty of
+      sellers and buyers Versailles relapsed into quietude. I
+      wonder if any other town of its size is as silent as
+      Versailles. There is little horse-traffic. Save for the
+      weird, dirge-like drone of the electric cars, which seems in
+      perfect consonance with the tone of sadness pervading the old
+      town whose glory has departed, the clang of the wooden shoes
+      on the rough pavement, and the infrequent beat of hoofs as a
+      detachment of cavalry moves by, unnatural stillness seems to
+      prevail.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Of street music there was none, though once an old couple
+      wailing a plaintive duet passed under our windows. Britain is
+      not esteemed a melodious nation, yet the unclassical piano is
+      ever with us, and even in the smallest provincial towns one
+      is rarely out of hearing of the insistent note of some
+      itinerant musician. And no matter how far one penetrates into
+      the recesses of the country, he is always within reach of
+      some bucolic rendering of the popular music-hall ditty of the
+      year before last. But never during our stay in Versailles, a
+      stay that included what is supposedly the gay time of the
+      year, did we hear the sound of an instrument, or&mdash;with
+      the one exception of the old couple, whom it would be rank
+      flattery to term vocalists&mdash;the note of a voice raised
+      in song.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With us, New Year's Day was a quiet one. A dozen miles
+      distant, Paris was welcoming the advent of the new century in
+      a burst of feverish excitement. But despite temptations, we
+      remained in drowsy Versailles, and spent several of the hours
+      in the little room where two pallid Red-Cross knights, who
+      were celebrating the occasion by sitting up for the first
+      time, waited expectant of our coming as their one link with
+      the outside world.
+    </p><a name="image-34"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx54.png" width="400" height="276" alt=
+      "The Presbytery">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      It was with a sincere thrill of pity that at
+      <i>d&eacute;je&ucirc;ner</i> we glanced round the
+      <i>salle-&agrave;-manger</i> and found all the Ogams filling
+      their accustomed solitary places. Only Dunois the
+      comparatively young, and presumably brave, was absent. The
+      others occupied their usual seats, eating with their
+      unfailing air of introspective absorption. Nobody had cared
+      enough for these lonely old men to ask them to fill a corner
+      at their tables, even on New Year's Day. To judge by their
+      regular attendance at the hotel meals, these men&mdash;all of
+      whom, as shown by their wearing the red ribbon of the Legion
+      of Honour, had merited distinction&mdash;had little
+      hospitality offered them. Most probably they offered as
+      little, for, throughout our stay, none ever had a friend to
+      share his breakfast or dinner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The bearing of the hotel guests suggested absolute ignorance
+      of one another's existence. The Colonels, as I have said in a
+      previous chapter, were exceptions, but even they held
+      intercourse only without the hotel walls. Day after day,
+      month after month, year after year as we were told, these men
+      had fed together, yet we never saw them betray even the most
+      cursory interest in one another. They entered and departed
+      without revealing, by word or look, cognisance of another
+      human being's presence. Could one imagine a dozen men of any
+      other nationality thus maintaining the same indifference over
+      even a short period? I hope future experience will prove me
+      wrong, but in the meantime my former conception of the French
+      as a nation overflowing with <i>bonhomie</i> and
+      <i>camaraderie</i> is rudely shaken.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The day of the year would have passed without anything to
+      distinguish it from its fellows had not the proprietor, who,
+      by the way, was a Swiss, endeavoured by sundry little
+      attentions to reveal his goodwill. Oysters usurped the place
+      of the customary <i>hors d'oeuvres</i> at breakfast, and the
+      meal ended with <i>caf&eacute; noir</i> and cognac handed
+      round by the deferential Iorson as being "offered by the
+      proprietor," who, entering during the progress of the
+      <i>d&eacute;je&ucirc;ner</i>, paid his personal respects to
+      his <i>client&egrave;le</i>.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The afternoon brought us a charming discovery. We had a boy
+      guest with us at luncheon, a lonely boy left at school when
+      his few compatriots&mdash;save only the two Red-Cross
+      prisoners&mdash;had gone home on holiday. The day was bright
+      and balmy; and while strolling in the park beyond the Petit
+      Trianon, we stumbled by accident upon the <i>hameau</i>, the
+      little village of counterfeit rusticity wherein Marie
+      Antoinette loved to play at country life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Following a squirrel that sported among the trees, we had
+      strayed from the beaten track, when, through the leafless
+      branches, we caught sight of roofs and houses and, wandering
+      towards them, found ourselves by the side of a miniature
+      lake, round whose margin were grouped the daintiest rural
+      cottages that monarch could desire or Court architect design.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      History had told us of the creation of this unique plaything
+      of the capricious Queen, but we had thought of it as a thing
+      of the past, a toy whose fragile beauty had been wrecked by
+      the rude blows of the Revolution. The matter-of-fact and
+      unromantic Baedeker, it is true, gives it half a line. After
+      devoting pages to the Ch&acirc;teau, its grounds, pictures,
+      and statues, and detailing exhaustively the riches of the
+      Trianons, he blandly mentions the gardens of the Petit
+      Trianon as containing "some fine exotic trees, an artificial
+      lake, a Temple of Love, and a hamlet where the Court ladies
+      played at peasant life."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It is doubtful whether ten out of every hundred tourists who,
+      Baedeker in hand, wander conscientiously over the grand
+      Ch&acirc;teau&mdash;Palace, alas! no longer&mdash;ever notice
+      the concluding words, or, reading its lukewarm
+      recommendation, deem the hamlet worthy of a visit. The
+      Ch&acirc;teau is an immense building crammed with artistic
+      achievements, and by the time the sightseer of ordinary
+      capacity has seen a tenth of the pictures, a third of the
+      sculpture, and a half of the fountains, his endurance, if not
+      all his patience, is exhausted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I must acknowledge that we, too, had visited Versailles
+      without discovering that the <i>hameau</i> still existed; so
+      to chance upon it in the sunset glow of that winter evening
+      seemed to carry us back to the time when the storm-cloud of
+      the Revolution was yet no larger than a man's hand; to the
+      day when Louis XVI., making for once a graceful speech,
+      presented the site to his wife, saying: "You love flowers.
+      Ah! well, I have a bouquet for you&mdash;the Petit Trianon."
+      And his Queen, weary of the restrictions of Court
+      ceremony&mdash;though it must be admitted that the willful
+      Marie Antoinette ever declined to be hampered by
+      convention&mdash;experiencing in her residence in the little
+      house freedom from etiquette, pursued the novel pleasure to
+      its furthest by commanding the erection in its grounds of a
+      village wherein she might the better indulge her newly
+      fledged fancy for make-believe rusticity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      About the pillars supporting the verandah-roof of the chief
+      cottage and that of the wide balcony above, roses and vines
+      twined lovingly. And though it was the first day of January,
+      the rose foliage was yet green and bunches of shrivelled
+      grapes clung to the vines. It was lovely then; yet a day or
+      two later, when a heavy snowfall had cast a white mantle over
+      the village, and the little lake was frozen hard, the scene
+      seemed still more beautiful in its ghostly purity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At first sight there was no sign of decay about the
+      long-deserted hamlet. The windows were closed, but had it
+      been early morning, one could easily have imagined that the
+      pseudo villagers were asleep behind the shuttered casements,
+      and that soon the Queen, in some charming
+      <i>d&eacute;shabill&eacute;</i>, would come out to breathe
+      the sweet morning air and to inhale the perfume of the
+      climbing roses on the balcony overlooking the lake, wherein
+      gold-fish darted to and fro among the water-lilies; or expect
+      to see the King, from the steps of the little mill where he
+      lodged, exchange blithe greetings with the maids of honour as
+      they tripped gaily to the <i>laiterie</i> to play at
+      butter-making, or sauntered across the rustic bridge on their
+      way to gather new-laid eggs at the farm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sunset glamour had faded and the premature dusk of
+      mid-winter was falling as, approaching nearer, we saw where
+      the roof-thatch had decayed, where the insidious finger of
+      Time had crumbled the stone walls. A chilly wind arising,
+      moaned through the naked trees. The shadow of the guillotine
+      seemed to brood oppressively over the scene, and, shuddering,
+      we hastened away.
+    </p><a name="2HCH06"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p><a name="image-35"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx58.png" width="500" height="335" alt=
+      "To the Place of Rest">
+    </center>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VI
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      ICE-BOUND
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Even in the last days of December rosebuds had been trying to
+      open on the standard bushes in the sheltered rose-garden of
+      the Palace. But with the early nights of January a sudden
+      frost seized the town in its icy grip, and, almost before we
+      had time to realise the change of weather, pipes were frozen
+      and hot-water bottles of strange design made their appearance
+      in the upper corridors of the hotel. The naked cherubs in the
+      park basins stood knee-deep in ice, skaters skimmed the
+      smooth surface of the canal beyond the <i>tapis vert</i>, and
+      in a twinkling Versailles became a town peopled by gnomes and
+      brownies whose faces peeped quaintly from within conical
+      hoods.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Soldiers drew their cloak-hoods over their uniform caps.
+      Postmen went their rounds thus snugly protected from the
+      weather. The doddering old scavengers, plying their brooms
+      among the great trees of the avenues, bore so strong a
+      resemblance to the pixies who lurk in caves and woods, that
+      we almost expected to see them vanish into some crevice in
+      the gnarled roots of the trunks. Even the tiny acolytes
+      trotting gravely in the funeral processions had their heads
+      and shoulders shrouded in the prevailing hooded capes.
+    </p><a name="image-36"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx59.png" width="400" height="402" alt=
+      "While the Frost Holds">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      To us, accustomed though we were to an inclement winter
+      climate, the chill seemed intense. So frigid was the
+      atmosphere that the first step taken from the heated hotel
+      hall into the outer air felt like putting one's face against
+      an iceberg. All wraps of ordinary thickness appeared
+      incapable of excluding the cold, and I sincerely envied the
+      countless wearers of the dominant Capuchin cloaks.
+    </p><a name="image-37"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx60.png" width="400" height="544" alt=
+      "The Postman's Wrap">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Our room was many-windowed, and no matter how high Karl piled
+      the logs, nor how close we sat to the flames, our backs never
+      felt really warm. It was only when night had fallen and the
+      outside shutters were firmly closed that the thermometer
+      suspended near the chimney-piece grudgingly consented to
+      record temperate heat.
+    </p><a name="image-38"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx61.png" width="400" height="496" alt=
+      "A Lapful of Warmth">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      But there was at least one snug chamber in Versailles, and
+      that was the room of the Red-Cross prisoners. However
+      extravagant the degrees of frost registered without, the
+      boys' sick-room was always pleasantly warm. How the good
+      Soeur, who was on duty all day, managed to regulate the heat
+      throughout the night-watches was her secret. A half-waking
+      boy might catch a glimpse of her, apparently robed as by day,
+      stealing out of the room; but so noiseless were her
+      movements, that neither of the invalids ever saw her stealing
+      in. They had a secret theory that in her own little
+      apartment, which was just beyond theirs, the Soeur, garbed,
+      hooded, and wearing rosary and the knotted rope of her Order,
+      passed her nights in devotion. Certain it was that even the
+      most glacial of weathers did not once avail to prevent her
+      attending the Mass that was held at Notre Dame each morning
+      before daybreak.
+    </p><a name="image-39"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx62.png" width="400" height="337" alt=
+      "The Daily Round">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Frost-flowers dulled the inner glories of the shop windows
+      with their unwelcome decoration. Even in the square on market
+      mornings business flagged. The country folks, chilled by
+      their cold drive to town, cowered, muffled in thick wraps,
+      over their little charcoal stoves, lacking energy to call
+      attention to their wares. The sage with the onions was
+      absent, but the pretty girl in the red hood held her
+      accustomed place, warming mittened fingers at a chaufferette
+      which she held on her lap. The only person who gave no
+      outward sign of misery was the boulang&egrave;re who,
+      harnessed to her heavy hand-cart, toiled unflinchingly on her
+      rounds.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the streets the comely little <i>bourgeoises</i> hid their
+      plump shoulders under ugly black knitted capes, and concealed
+      their neat hands in clumsy worsted gloves. But despite the
+      rigour of the atmosphere their heads, with the hair neatly
+      dressed <i>&agrave; la Chinoise</i>, remained uncovered. It
+      struck our unaccustomed eyes oddly to see these girls thus
+      exposed, standing on the pavement in the teeth of some icy
+      blast, talking to stalwart soldier friends, whose noses were
+      their only visible feature.
+    </p><a name="image-40"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx63.png" width="400" height="518" alt=
+      "Three Babes and a Bonne">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      The ladies of Versailles give a thought to their waists, but
+      they leave their ankles to Providence, and any one having
+      experience of Versailles winter streets can fully sympathise
+      with their trust; for even in dry sunny weather mud seems a
+      spontaneous production that renders goloshes a necessity. And
+      when frost holds the high-standing city in its frigid grasp
+      the extreme cold forbids any idea of coquetry, and thickly
+      lined boots with cloth uppers&mdash;a species of foot-gear
+      that in grace of outline is decidedly suggestive of
+      "arctics"&mdash;become the only comfortable wear.
+    </p><a name="image-41"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx64.png" width="400" height="588" alt=
+      "Snow in the Park">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      After a few days of thought-congealing cold&mdash;a cold so
+      intense that sundry country people who had left their homes
+      before dawn to drive into Paris with farm produce were taken
+      dead from their market-carts at the end of the
+      journey&mdash;the weather mercifully changed. A heavy
+      snowfall now tempered the inclement air, and turned the
+      leafless park into a fairy vision.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The nights were still cold, but during the day the sun
+      glinted warmly on the frozen waters of the gilded fountains
+      and sparkled on the facets of the crisp snow. The marble
+      benches in the sheltered nooks of the snug Ch&acirc;teau
+      gardens were occupied by little groups, which usually
+      consisted of a <i>bonne</i> and a baby, or of a chevalier and
+      a hopelessly unclassable dog; for the dogs of Versailles
+      belong to breeds that no man living could classify, the most
+      prevalent type in clumsiness of contour and astonishing
+      shagginess of coat resembling nothing more natural than those
+      human travesties of the canine race familiar to us in
+      pantomime.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Along the snow-covered paths under the leafless trees, on
+      whose branches close-wreathed mistletoe hangs like rooks'
+      nests, the statues stood like guardian angels of the scene.
+      They had lost their air of aloofness and were at one with the
+      white earth, just as the forest trees in their autumn dress
+      of brown and russet appear more in unison with their parent
+      soil than when decked in their bravery of summer greenery.
+    </p><a name="2HCH07"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VII
+    </h2>
+    <center>
+      THE HAUNTED CHATEAU
+    </center><a name="image-42"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx66.png" width="250" height="477" align="left"
+              alt="A Veteran of the Chateau">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      The Ch&acirc;teau of Versailles, like the town, dozes through
+      the winter, only half awakening on Sunday afternoons when the
+      townsfolk make it their meeting-place. Then conscripts, in
+      clumsy, ill-fitting uniforms, tread noisily over the shining
+      <i>parqueterie</i> floors, and burgesses gossip amicably in
+      the dazzling <i>Galerie des Glaces</i>, where each morning
+      courtiers were wont to await the uprising of their king. But
+      on the weekdays visitors are of the rarest. Sometimes a few
+      half-frozen people who have rashly automobiled thither from
+      Paris alight at the Ch&acirc;teau gates, and take a hurried
+      walk through the empty galleries to restore the circulation
+      to their stiffened limbs before venturing to set forth on the
+      return journey.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Every weekday in the Place d'Armes, squads of conscripts are
+      busily drilling, running hither and thither with unflagging
+      energy, and the air resounds with the hoarse staccato cries
+      of "Un! Deux! Trois!" wherewith they accompany their
+      movements, cries that, heard from a short distance, exactly
+      resemble the harsh barking of a legion of dogs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p><a name="image-43"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx67.png" width="400" height="331" alt=
+      "Un&mdash;deux&mdash;trois">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Within the gates there is a sense of leisure: even the
+      officials have ceased to anticipate visitors. In the <i>Cour
+      Royale</i> two little girls have cajoled an old guide into
+      playing a game of ball. A custodian dozes by the great log
+      fire in the bedroom of Louis XIV., where the warm firelight
+      playing on the rich trappings lends such an air of occupation
+      to the chamber, that&mdash;forgetting how time has turned to
+      grey the once white ostrich plumes adorning the canopy of the
+      bed, and that the priceless lace coverlet would probably fall
+      to pieces at a touch&mdash;one almost expects the door to
+      open for the entrance of Louis le Grand himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To this room he came when he built the Palace wherein to hide
+      from that grim summons with which the tower of the Royal
+      sepulture of St. Denis, visible from his former residence,
+      seemed to threaten him. And here it was that Death, after
+      long seeking, found him. We can see the little great-grandson
+      who was to succeed, lifted on to the bed of the dying
+      monarch.
+    </p><a name="image-44"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx68.png" width="400" height="499" alt=
+      "The Bedchamber of Louis XIV">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      "What is your name, my child?" asks the King.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "Louis XV;" replies the infant, taking brevet-rank. And
+      nearly sixty years later we see the child, his wasted life at
+      an end, dying of virulent smallpox under the same roof,
+      deserted by all save his devoted daughters.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To me the Palace of Versailles is peopled by the ghosts of
+      many women. A few of them are dowdy and good, but by far the
+      greater number are graceful and wicked. How infinitely easier
+      it is to make a good bad reputation than to achieve even a
+      bad good one! "Tell us stories about naughty children," we
+      used to beseech our nurses. And as our years increase we
+      still yawn over the doings of the righteous, while our
+      interest in the ways of transgressors only strengthens.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We all know by heart the romantic lives of the shrinking La
+      Valli&egrave;re, of Madame de Montespan the impassioned, of
+      sleek Madame de Maintenon&mdash;the trio of beauties honoured
+      by the admiration of Louis le Grand; and of the bevy of
+      favourites of Louis XV, the three fair and short-lived
+      sisters de Mailly-Nesle, the frail Pompadour who mingled
+      scheming with debauchery, and the fascinating but
+      irresponsible Du Barry. Even the most minute details of Marie
+      Antoinette's tragic career are fresh in our memories, but
+      which of us can remember the part in the history of France
+      played by Marie Leczinska? Yet, apart from her claim to
+      notability as having been the last queen who ended her days
+      on the French throne, her story is full of romantic interest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thrusting aside the flimsy veil of Time, we find Marie
+      Leczinska the penniless daughter of an exiled Polish king who
+      is living in retirement in a dilapidated commandatory at a
+      little town in Alsace. It is easy to picture the shabby room
+      wherein the unforeseeing Marie sits content between her
+      mother and grandmother, all three diligently broidering altar
+      cloths. Upon the peaceful scene the father enters, overcome
+      by emotion, trembling. His face announces great news, before
+      he can school his voice to speak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "Why, father! Have you been recalled to the throne of
+      Poland?" asks Marie, and the na&iuml;ve question reveals that
+      many years of banishment have not quenched in the hearts of
+      the exiles the hope of a return to their beloved Poland.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "No, my daughter, but you are to be Queen of France," replies
+      the father. "Let us thank God."
+    </p><a name="image-45"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx70.png" width="250" height="489" align="right"
+      alt="Marie Leczinska">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Knowing the sequel, one wonders if it was for a blessing or a
+      curse that the refugees, kneeling in that meagre room in the
+      old house at Wissenberg, returned thanks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Certain it is that the ministers of the boy-monarch were
+      actuated more by a craving to further their own ends than
+      either by the desire to please God or to honour their King,
+      in selecting this obscure maiden from the list of ninety-nine
+      marriageable princesses that had been drawn up at Versailles.
+      A dowerless damsel possessed of no influential relatives is
+      not in a position to be exacting, and, whate'er befell, poor
+      outlawed Stanislas Poniatowski could not have taken up arms
+      in defence of his daughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Having a sincere regard for unaffected Marie Leczinska, I
+      regret being obliged to admit that, even in youth, "comely"
+      was the most effusive adjective that could veraciously be
+      awarded her. And it is only in the lowest of whispers that I
+      will admit that she was seven years older than her handsome
+      husband, whose years did not then number seventeen. Yet is
+      there indubitable charm in the simple grace wherewith Marie
+      accepted her marvellous transformation from pauper to queen.
+      She disarmed criticism by refusing to conceal her former
+      poverty. "This is the first time in my life I have been able
+      to make presents," she frankly told the ladies of the Court,
+      as she distributed among them her newly got trinkets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It is pleasant to remember that the early years of her wedded
+      life passed harmoniously. Louis, though never passionately
+      enamoured of his wife, yet loved her with the warm affection
+      a young man bestows on the first woman he has possessed. And
+      that Marie was wholly content there is little doubt. She was
+      no gadabout. Versailles satisfied her. Three years passed
+      before she visited Paris, and then the visit was more of the
+      nature of a pilgrimage than of a State progress. Twin
+      daughters had blessed the union, and the Queen journeyed to
+      the churches of Notre Dame and Saint Genevi&egrave;ve to
+      crave from Heaven the boon of a Dauphin: a prayer which a
+      year later was answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But clouds were gathering apace. As he grew into manhood the
+      domestic virtues palled upon Louis. He tired of the
+      needlework which, doubtless, Marie's skilled hands had taught
+      him. We recall how, sitting between her mother and
+      grandmother, the future Queen had broidered altar cloths.
+      Marie Leczinska was an adoring mother; possibly her devotion
+      to their rapidly increasing family wearied him. Being little
+      more than a child himself, the King is scarcely likely to
+      have found the infantile society so engaging as did the
+      mother. Thus began that series of foolish infidelities that,
+      characterised by extreme timidity and secrecy at first, was
+      latterly flaunted in the face of the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie's life was not a smooth one, but it was happier than
+      that of her Royal spouse. To me there is nothing sadder,
+      nothing more sordid in history, than the feeble, useless
+      existence of Louis XV., whose early years promised so well.
+      It is pitiful to look at the magnificent portrait, still
+      hanging in the palace where he reigned, of the child-king
+      seated in his robes of State, the sceptre in his hand,
+      looking with eyes of innocent wonder into the future, then to
+      think upon the depth of degradation reached by the once
+      revered Monarch before his body was dragged in dishonour and
+      darkness to its last resting-place.
+    </p><a name="image-46"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx72.png" width="250" height="351" align="right"
+      alt="Madame Adelaide">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Pleasanter figures that haunt the Ch&acirc;teau are those of
+      the six pretty daughters of Louis and Marie Leczinska. There
+      are the ill-starred twins, Elizabeth and Henrietta: Madame
+      Elizabeth, who never lost the love of her old home, and,
+      though married, before entering her teens, to the Infanta of
+      Spain, retired, after a life of disappointment, to her
+      beloved Versailles to die; and the gentle Henrietta who,
+      cherishing an unlucky passion for the young Duc de Chartres,
+      pined quietly away after witnessing her lover wed to another.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then there is Adelaide, whom Nattier loved to paint,
+      portraying her sometimes as a lightly clad goddess, sometimes
+      sitting demurely in a pretty frock. Good Nattier! there is a
+      later portrait of himself in complacent middle age surrounded
+      by his wife and children; but I like to think that, when he
+      spent so many days at the Palace painting the young Princess,
+      some tenderer influence than mere artistic skill lent cunning
+      to his brush.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the daughters of Louis XV. were sent to be educated at a
+      convent, Adelaide it was who, by tearful protest to her royal
+      father, gained permission to remain at the Palace while her
+      sisters meekly endured their banishment. From this instance
+      of childish character one would have anticipated a career for
+      Madame Adelaide, and I hate being obliged to think of her
+      merely developing into one of the three spinster aunts of
+      Louis XVI. who, residing under the same roof, turned coldly
+      disapproving eyes upon the manifold frailties of their niece,
+      Marie Antoinette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sisters Victoire and Sophie are faint shades leaving no
+      impression on the memory; but there is another spirit, clad
+      in the sombre garb of a Carmelite nun, who, standing aloof,
+      looks with the calm eyes of peace on the motley throng. It is
+      Louise, the youngest sister of all, who, deeply grieved by
+      her father's infatuation for the Du Barry&mdash;an
+      infatuation which, beginning within a month of Marie
+      Leczinska's decease, ended only when on his deathbed the
+      dying Monarch prepared to receive absolution by bidding his
+      inamorata farewell&mdash;resolved to flee her profligate
+      surroundings and devote her life to holiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It is affecting to think of the gentle Louise, secretly
+      anticipating the rigours of convent life, torturing her
+      delicate skin by wearing coarse serge, and burning tallow
+      candles in her chamber to accustom herself to their
+      detestable odour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her father's consent gained, Louise still tarried at
+      Versailles. Perhaps the King's daughter shrank from
+      voluntarily beginning a life of imprisoned drudgery. We know
+      that at this period she passed many hours reading
+      contemporary history, knowing that, once within the convent
+      walls, the study of none but sacred literature would be
+      permitted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then came an April morning when Louise, who had kept her
+      intention secret from all save her father, left the Palace
+      never to return. France, in a state of joyous excitement, was
+      eagerly anticipating the arrival of Marie Antoinette, who was
+      setting forth on the first stage of that triumphal journey
+      which had so tragic an ending. Already the gay clamour of
+      wedding-bells filled the air; and Louise may have feared
+      that, did she linger at Versailles, the enticing vanities of
+      the world might change the current of her thoughts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Chief among the impalpable throng that people the state
+      galleries is Marie Antoinette, and her spirit shows us many
+      faces. It is charming, haughty, considerate, headstrong,
+      frivolous, thoughtful, degraded, dignified, in quick
+      succession. We see her arrive at the Palace amid the
+      tumultuous adoration of the crowd, and leave amidst its
+      execrations. Sometimes she is richly apparelled, as befits a
+      queen; anon she sports the motley trappings of a mountebank.
+      The courtyard that saw the departure of Madame Louise
+      witnesses Marie Antoinette, returning at daybreak in company
+      with her brother-in-law from some festivity unbecoming a
+      queen, refused admittance by the King's express command.
+    </p><a name="image-47"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx74.png" width="250" height="374" align="right"
+      alt="Louis Quatorze">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Many of the attendant spirits who haunt Marie Antoinette's
+      ghostly footsteps as they haunted her earthly ones are
+      malefic. Most are women, and all are young and fair. There is
+      Madame Roland, who, taken as a young girl to the Palace to
+      peep at the Royalties, became imbued by that jealous hatred
+      which only the Queen's death could appease.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "If I stay here much longer," she told that kindly mother who
+      sought to give her a treat by showing her Court life, "I
+      shall detest these people so much that I shall be unable to
+      hide my hatred."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It is easy to fancy the girl's evil face scowling at the
+      unconscious Queen, before she leaves to pen those
+      inflammatory pamphlets which are to prove the Sovereign's
+      undoing and her own. For by some whim of fate Madame Roland
+      was executed on the very scaffold to which her envenomed
+      writings had driven Marie Antoinette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A spectre that impresses as wearing rags under a gorgeous
+      robe, lurks among the foliage of the quiet <i>bosquet</i>
+      beyond the orangerie. It is the infamous Madame de la Motte,
+      chief of adventuresses, and it was in that secluded grove
+      that her tool, Cardinal de Rohan, had his pretended interview
+      with the Queen. Poor, perfidious Contesse! what an existence
+      of alternate beggarly poverty and beggarly riches was hers
+      before that last scene of all when she lay broken and bruised
+      almost beyond human semblance in that dingy London courtyard
+      beneath the window from which, in a mad attempt to escape
+      arrest, she had thrown herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Through the Royal salons flits a presence whereat the shades
+      of the Royal Princesses look askance: that of the frolicsome,
+      good-natured, irresponsible Du Barry. A soulless ephemera
+      she, with no ambitions or aspirations, save that, having
+      quitted the grub stage, she desires to be as brilliant a
+      butterfly as possible. Close in attendance on her moves an
+      ebon shadow&mdash;Zamora, the ingrate foundling who, reared
+      by the Duchesse, swore that he would make his benefactress
+      ascend the scaffold, and kept his oath. For our last sight of
+      the prodigal, warm-hearted Du Barry, plaything of the aged
+      King, is on the guillotine, where in agonies of terror she
+      fruitlessly appeals to her executioner's clemency.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But of all the bygone dames who haunt the grand
+      Ch&acirc;teau, the only one I detest is probably the most
+      irreproachable of all&mdash;Madame de Maintenon. There is
+      something so repulsively sanctimonious in her aspect,
+      something so crafty in the method wherewith, under the cloak
+      of religion, she wormed her way into high places,
+      ousting&mdash;always in the name of propriety&mdash;those who
+      had helped her. Her stepping-stone to Royal favour was
+      handsome, impetuous Madame de Montespan, who, taking
+      compassion on her widowed poverty, appointed Madame Scarron,
+      as she then was, governess of her children, only to find her
+      <i>prot&eacute;g&eacute;e</i> usurp her place both in the honours of
+      the King and in the affections of their children.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The natural heart rebels against the "unco guid," and Madame
+      de Maintenon, with her smooth expression, double chin, sober
+      garments and ever-present symbols of piety, revolts me. I
+      know it is wrong. I know that historians laud her for the
+      wholesome influence she exercised upon the mind of a king who
+      had grown timorous with years; that the dying Queen declared
+      that she owed the King's kindness to her during the last
+      twenty years of her life entirely to Madame de Maintenon. But
+      we know also that six months after the Queen's death an
+      unwonted light showed at midnight in the Chapel Royal, where
+      Madame de Maintenon&mdash;the child of a prison
+      cell&mdash;was becoming the legal though unacknowledged wife
+      of Louis XIV. The impassioned, uncalculating de Montespan had
+      given the handsome Monarch her all without stipulation. Truly
+      the career of Madame de Maintenon was a triumph of virtue
+      over vice; and yet of all that heedless, wanton throng, my
+      soul detests only her.
+    </p><a name="2HCH08"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p><a name="image-48"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx77.png" width="500" height="342" alt=
+      "Where the Queen Played">
+    </center>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VIII
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      MARIE ANTOINETTE
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Stereotyped sights are rarely the most engrossing. At the
+      Palace of Versailles the <i>petits appartements de la
+      Reine</i>, those tiny rooms whose grey old-world furniture
+      might have been in use yesterday, to me hold more actuality
+      than all the regal salons in whose vast emptiness footsteps
+      reverberate like echoes from the past.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the pretty sitting-room the coverings to-day are a
+      reproduction of the same pale blue satin that draped the
+      furniture in the days when queens preferred the snug
+      seclusion of those dainty rooms overlooking the dank inner
+      courtyard to the frigid grandeur of their State chambers.
+      Therein it was that Marie Leczinska was wont to instruct her
+      young daughters in the virtues as she had known them in her
+      girlhood's thread-bare home, not as her residence at the
+      profligate French Court had taught her to understand them.
+    </p><a name="image-49"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx78.png" width="250" height="543" alt=
+      "Marie Antoinette">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      The heavy gilt bolts bearing the interlaced initials M.A.
+      remind us that these, too, were the favourite rooms of Marie
+      Antoinette, and that in all probability the cunningly
+      entwined bolts were the handiwork of her honest spouse, who
+      wrought at his blacksmith forge below while his wife flirted
+      above. But in truth the <i>petits appartements</i> are
+      instinct with memories of Marie Antoinette, and it is
+      difficult to think of any save only her occupying them. The
+      beautiful <i>coffre</i> presented to her with the layette of
+      the Dauphin still stands on a table in an adjoining chamber,
+      and the paintings on its white silk casing are scarcely faded
+      yet, though the decorative ruching of green silk leaves has
+      long ago fallen into decay.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A step farther is the little white and gold boudoir which
+      still holds the mirror that gave the haughty Queen her first
+      premonition of the catastrophe that awaited her. Viewed
+      casually the triple mirror, lining an alcove wherein stands a
+      couch garlanded with flowers, betrays no sinister qualities.
+      But any visitor who approaches looking at his reflection
+      where at the left the side panels meet the angle of the wall,
+      will be greeted by a sight similar to that whose tragic
+      suggestion made even the haughty Queen pause a moment in her
+      reckless career. For in the innocent appearing mirrors the
+      gazer is reflected without a head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was through this liliputian suite, this strip of
+      homeliness so artfully introduced into a palace, that Marie
+      Antoinette fled on that fateful August morning when the mob
+      of infuriated women invaded the Ch&acirc;teau.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Knowing this, I was puzzling over the transparent fact that
+      either of the apparent exits would have led her directly into
+      the hands of the enemy, when the idea of a secret staircase
+      suggested itself. A little judicious inquiry elicited the
+      information that one did exist. "But it is not seen. It is
+      locked. To view it, an order from the Commissary&mdash;that
+      is necessary," explained the old guide.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To know that a secret staircase, and one of such vivid
+      historical importance, was at hand, and not to have seen it
+      would have been too tantalising. The "Commissary" was an
+      unknown quantity, and for a space it seemed as though our
+      desire would be ungratified. Happily the knowledge of our
+      interest awoke a kindly reciprocity in our guide, who,
+      hurrying off, quickly returned with the venerable custodian
+      of the key. A moment later, the unobtrusive panel that
+      concealed the exit flew open at its touch, and the secret
+      staircase, dark, narrow, and hoary with the dust of years,
+      lay before us.
+    </p><a name="image-50"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx80.png" width="400" height="617" alt=
+      "The Secret Stair">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Many must have been the romantic meetings aided by those
+      diminutive steps, but, peering into their shadows, we saw
+      nothing but a vision of Marie Antoinette, half clad in
+      dishevelled wrappings of petticoat and shawl, flying
+      distracted from the vengeance of the furies through the
+      refuge of the low-roofed stairway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In my ingenuous youth, when studying French history, I
+      evolved a theory which seemed, to myself at least, to account
+      satisfactorily for the radical differences distinguishing
+      Louis XVI. from his brothers and antecedents. Finding that,
+      when a delicate infant, he had been sent to the country to
+      nurse, I rushed to the conclusion that the royal infant had
+      died, and that his foster-mother, fearful of the
+      consequences, had substituted a child of her own in his
+      place. The literature of the nursery is full of instances
+      that seemed to suggest the probability of my conjecture being
+      correct.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As a youth, Louis had proved himself both awkward and clumsy.
+      He was loutish, silent in company, ill at ease in his
+      princely surroundings, and in all respects unlike his younger
+      brothers. He was honest, sincere, pious, a faithful husband,
+      a devoted father; amply endowed, indeed, with the
+      middle-class virtues which at that period were but rarely
+      found in palaces. To my childish reasoning the most
+      convincing proof lay in his innate craving for physical
+      labour; a craving that no ridicule could dispel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With the romantic enthusiasm of youth, I used to fancy the
+      peasant mother stealing into the Palace among the spectators
+      who daily were permitted to view the royal couple at dinner,
+      and imagine her, having seen the King, depart glorying
+      secretly in the strategy that had raised her son to so high
+      an estate. There was another picture, in whose dramatic
+      misery I used to revel. It showed the unknown mother, who had
+      discovered that by her own act she had condemned her innocent
+      son to suffer for the sins of past generations of royal
+      profligates, journeying to Paris (in my dreams she always
+      wore sabots and walked the entire distance in a state of
+      extreme physical exhaustion) with the intention of preventing
+      his execution by declaring his lowly parentage to the mob.
+      The final tableau revealed her, footsore and weary, reaching
+      within sight of the guillotine just in time to see the
+      executioner holding up her son's severed head. I think my
+      imaginary heroine died of a broken heart at this juncture, a
+      catastrophe that would naturally account for her secret dying
+      with her.
+    </p><a name="image-51"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx82.png" width="300" height="575" alt=
+      "Madame Sans T&ecirc;te">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      During our winter stay at Versailles, my childish phantasies
+      recurred to me, and I almost found them feasible. What an
+      amazing irony of fate it would have shown had a son of the
+      soil expired to expiate the crimes of sovereigns!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But more pitiful by far than the saddest of illusions is the
+      sordid reality of a scene indelibly imprinted on my mental
+      vision. Memory takes me back to the twilight of a spring
+      Sunday several years ago, when in the wake of a cluster of
+      market folks we wandered into the old Cathedral of St. Denis.
+      Deep in the sombre shadows of the crypt a light gleamed
+      faintly through a narrow slit in the stone wall. Approaching,
+      we looked into a gloomy vault wherein, just visible by the
+      ray of a solitary candle, lay two zinc coffins.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Earth holds no more dismal sepulchre than that dark vault,
+      through the crevice in whose wall the blue-bloused marketers
+      cast curious glances. Yet within these grim coffins lie two
+      bodies with their severed heads, all that remains mortal of
+      the haughty Marie Antoinette and other humble spouse.
+    </p><a name="2HCH09"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p><a name="image-52"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx84.png" width="500" height="325" alt=
+      "Illumination">
+    </center>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IX
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      THE PRISONERS RELEASED
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      The first dread days, when the Boy, heavy with fever, seemed
+      scarcely to realise our presence, were swiftly followed by
+      placid hours when he lay and smiled in blissful content,
+      craving nothing, now that we were all together again. But
+      this state of beatitude was quickly ousted by a period of
+      discontent, when the hunger fiend reigned supreme in the
+      little room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "<i>Manger, manger, manger, tout le temps!"</i> Thus the
+      nurse epitomised the converse of her charges. And indeed she
+      was right, for, from morning till night, the prisoners'
+      solitary topic of conversation was food. During the first ten
+      days their diet consisted solely of boiled milk, and as that
+      time wore to a close the number of quarts consumed increased
+      daily, until Paul, the chief porter, seemed ever ascending
+      the little outside stair carrying full bottles of milk, or
+      descending laden with empty ones.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "Milk doesn't count. When shall we be allowed food,
+      <i>real</i> food?" was the constant cry, and their relief was
+      abounding when, on Christmas Day, the doctor withdrew his
+      prohibition, and permitted an approach to the desired solids.
+      But even then the prisoners, to their loudly voiced
+      disappointment, discovered that their only choice lay between
+      vermicelli and tapioca, nursery dishes which at home they
+      would have despised.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      "<i>Tapioca!</i> Imagine tapioca for a Christmas dinner!" the
+      invalids exclaimed with disgust. But that scorn did not
+      prevent them devouring the mess and eagerly demanding more.
+      And thereafter the saucepan simmering over the gas-jet in the
+      outer room seemed ever full of savoury spoon-meat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I doubt if any zealous mother-bird ever had a busier time
+      feeding her fledglings than had the good Sister in satisfying
+      the appetites of these callow cormorants. To witness the
+      French nun seeking to allay the hunger of these voracious
+      schoolboy aliens was to picture a wren trying to fill the
+      ever-gaping beaks of two young cuckoos whom an adverse fate
+      had dropped into her nest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the days wore by, the embargo placed upon our desire to
+      cater for the invalids was gradually lifted, and little
+      things such as sponge biscuits and pears crept in to vary the
+      monotony of the milk diet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      New Year's Day held a tangible excitement, for that morning
+      saw a modified return to ordinary food, and, in place of
+      bottles of milk, Paul's load consisted of such tempting
+      selections from the school meals as were deemed desirable for
+      the invalids. Poultry not being included in the school menus,
+      we raided a cooked-provision shop and carried off a plump,
+      well-browned chicken. The approbation which met this venture
+      resulted in our supplying a succession of <i>poulettes</i>,
+      which, at the invalids' express desire, were smuggled into
+      their room under my cloak. Not that there was the most remote
+      necessity for concealment, but the invalids, whose sole
+      interest centred in food, laboured under the absurd idea
+      that, did the authorities know they were being supplied from
+      without, their regular meals would be curtailed to prevent
+      them over-eating.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The point of interest, for the Red-Cross prisoners at least,
+      in our morning visits lay in the unveiling of the eatables we
+      had brought. School food, however well arranged, is
+      necessarily stereotyped, and the element of the unknown ever
+      lurked in our packages. The sugar-sticks, chocolates, fruit,
+      little cakes, or what we had chanced to bring, were carefully
+      examined, criticised, and promptly devoured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A slight refreshment was served them during our short stay,
+      and when we departed we left them eagerly anticipating
+      luncheon. At gloaming, when we returned, it was to find them
+      busy with half-yards of the long crusty loaves, plates of
+      jelly, and tumblers, filled with milk on our Boy's part, and
+      with well diluted wine on that of his fellow sufferer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fear of starvation being momentarily averted, the Soeur used
+      to light fresh candles around the tiny Holy
+      <i>B&eacute;b&eacute;</i> on the still green Christmas-tree,
+      and for a space we sat quietly enjoying the radiance. But by
+      the time the last candle had flickered out, and the glow of a
+      commonplace paraffin lamp lighted the gloom, nature again
+      demanded nourishment; and we bade the prisoners farewell for
+      the night, happy in the knowledge that supper, sleep, and
+      breakfast would pleasantly while away the hours till our
+      return.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The elder Red-Cross knight was a tall, good-looking lad of
+      sixteen, the age when a boy wears painfully high collars,
+      shaves surreptitiously&mdash;and unnecessarily&mdash;with his
+      pen-knife, talks to his juniors about the tobacco he smokes
+      in a week, and cherishes an undying passion for a maiden
+      older than himself. He was ever an interesting study, though
+      I do not think I really loved him until he confided his
+      affairs of the heart, and entrusted me with the writing of
+      his love-letters. I know that behind my back he invariably
+      referred to me as "Ma"; but as he openly addressed the
+      unconscious nun as "you giddy old girl," "Ma" might almost be
+      termed respectful, and I think our regard was mutual.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All things come to him who waits. There came a night when for
+      the last time we sat together around the little tree,
+      watching the Soeur light the candles that illuminated the Holy
+      <i>B&eacute;b&eacute;</i>. On the morrow the prisoners,
+      carefully disinfected, and bearing the order of their release
+      in the form of a medical certificate, would be set free.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It clouded our gladness to know that before the patient
+      Sister stretched another period of isolation. Just that day
+      another pupil had developed scarlet fever, and only awaited
+      our boys' departure to occupy the little room. Hearing that
+      this fresh prisoner lay under sentence of durance vile, we
+      suggested that all the toys&mdash;chiefly remnants of
+      shattered armies that, on hearing of the Boy's illness, we
+      had brought from the home playroom he had
+      outgrown&mdash;might be left for him instead of being sent
+      away to be burnt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Boy's bright face dulled. "If it had been anybody else!
+      But, mother, I don't think you know that he is the one French
+      boy we disliked. It was he who always shouted '<i>&agrave;
+      bas les Anglais!</i>' in the playground."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The reflection that for weary weeks this obnoxious boy would
+      be the only inmate of the <i>bo&icirc;te</i>, as the invalids
+      delighted to call their sick-room, overcame his antipathetic
+      feeling, and he softened so far as to indite a polite little
+      French note offering his late enemy his sympathy, and
+      formally bequeathing to him the reversion of his toys,
+      including the <i>arbre de No&euml;l</i> with all its
+      decorations, except the little waxen Jesus nestling in the
+      manger of yellow corn; the Soeur had already declared her
+      intention of preserving that among her treasures.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The time that had opened so gloomily had passed, and now that
+      it was over we could look back upon many happy hours spent
+      within the dingy prison walls. And our thoughts were in
+      unison, for the Boy, abruptly breaking the silence, said:
+      "And after all, it hasn't been such a bad time. Do you know,
+      I really think I've rather enjoyed it!"
+    </p><a name="2H_4_10"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      L'ENVOI
+    </h2><a name="image-53"><!--IMG--></a>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vx88.png" width="250" height="322" align="left"
+              alt="">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      Heavy skies lowered above us, the landscape seen through the
+      driving mist-wreaths showed a depressing repetition of drabs
+      and greys as we journeyed towards Calais. But, snugly
+      ensconced in the <i>train rapide</i>, our hearts beat high
+      with joy, for at last were we homeward bound. The weeks of
+      exile in the stately old town had ended. For the last time
+      the good Sister had lit us down the worn stone steps. As we
+      sped seawards across the bleak country, our thoughts flew
+      back to her, and to the little room with the red cross on its
+      casement, wherein, although our prisoners were released,
+      another term of nursing had already begun for her. In
+      contrast with her life of cheerful self-abnegation, ours
+      seemed selfish, meaningless, and empty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dear nameless Sister! She had been an angel of mercy to us in
+      a troublous time, and though our earthly paths may never
+      again cross, our hearts will ever hold her memory sacred.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <center>
+      <i>By the same Author</i>
+    </center>
+    <h2>
+      OUR STOLEN SUMMER
+    </h2>
+    <center>
+      THE RECORD OF A ROUNDABOUT TOUR<br>
+       BY<br>
+       MARY STUART BOYD<br>
+       WITH ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY SKETCHES BY A.S. BOYD
+    </center>
+    <h3>
+      <i>Extracts from Reviews</i>
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      <b>THE WORLD</b>.&mdash;"To be able to go round the world
+      nowadays, and write a descriptive record of the tour that is
+      vivid and fresh is a positive literary feat. It has been
+      successfully accomplished in <i>Our Stolen Summer</i> by Mrs.
+      Boyd, who with no ulterior object in making a book journeyed
+      over four continents in company with her husband, and picked
+      up <i>en route</i> matter for one of the pleasantest, most
+      humorous, and least pretentious books of travel we have read
+      for many a day. It is admirably illustrated by Mr. A.S. Boyd,
+      whose sense of humour happily matches that of his observant
+      wife, and the reader who can lay aside this picturesque and
+      truly delightful volume without sincere regret must have a
+      dull and dreary mind."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>PUNCH</b>.&mdash;"<i>Our Stolen Summer</i> is calculated
+      to lead to wholesale breakage of the Eighth Commandment.
+      Certainly, my Baronite, reading the fascinating record of a
+      roundabout tour, feels prompted to steal away. Mary Stuart
+      Boyd, who pens the record, has the great advantage of the
+      collaboration of A.S.B., whose signature is familiar in
+      <i>Mr. Punch's</i> Picture Gallery.... A charming book."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>SPECTATOR</b>.&mdash;"The writer, by the help of a ready
+      pen and of the pencil of a skilful illustrator, has given us
+      in this handsome volume a number of attractive pictures of
+      distant places.... It is good to read and pleasant to look
+      at."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>TRUTH</b>.&mdash;"You will find no pleasanter holiday
+      reading than <i>Our Stolen Summer</i>."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>ACADEMY</b>.&mdash;"A fresh record, and worth the reading.
+      Of such is Mrs. Boyd's volume, which her husband has
+      illustrated profusely with spirited line drawings."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>FIELD</b>.&mdash;"One of the brightest books of travel
+      that it has been our good fortune to read. The illustrations
+      deserve a notice to themselves. They are far and away better
+      than those which we usually get in books of this kind, and we
+      do not know that we can bestow higher praise on them than to
+      say that they are worthy of the letterpress which they
+      illustrate."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>LAND AND WATER</b>.&mdash;"A delightful sketch of a
+      delightful journey.... <i>Our Stolen Summer</i> is a book
+      which will be read with equal delight on a lazy summer
+      holiday, or in the heart of London when the streets are
+      enveloped in fog and the rain is beating against the window
+      panes. Mr. Boyd's sketches are simply admirable."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>SPHERE</b>.&mdash;"A delightful record of travel. Mrs.
+      Boyd is never dull, and there is plenty of acute observation
+      throughout her pleasant story of travel. My Boyd's
+      illustrations which appear on practically every page, are, it
+      need scarcely be said, up to the high level that is already
+      familiar to students of his black-and-white work."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>LADIES' FIELD</b>.&mdash;"A singularly delightful and
+      unaffected book of travel."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>MADAME</b>.&mdash;"One of the most delightful books of
+      travel it has been our good fortune to read."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>MORNING POST</b>.&mdash;"If the encouragement of
+      globe-trotting be a virtuous action, then certainly Mrs.
+      Stuart Boyd has deserved well of her country. To read her
+      book is to conceive an insensate desire to be off and away on
+      'the long trail' at all hazards and at all costs.... Mr.
+      Boyd's illustrations add greatly to the interest and charm of
+      the book. There is movement, atmosphere, and sunshine in
+      them."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>STANDARD</b>.&mdash;"Mrs. Boyd went with her husband round
+      the world, and the latter&mdash;an artist with a sense of
+      humour&mdash;kept his hand in practice by making droll
+      sketches of people encountered by the way, which heighten the
+      charm of his wife's vivacious description of a <i>Stolen
+      Summer</i>. Mrs. Boyd has quick eyes and an open mind, and
+      writes with sense and sensibility."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>DAILY TELEGRAPH</b>.&mdash;"It is not so much what Mrs.
+      Boyd has to tell as the invariable good humour and brightness
+      with which she records even the most familiar things that
+      makes the charm of her excellent diary."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>DAILY CHRONICLE</b>.&mdash;"Mrs. Boyd has written the log
+      with sparkle and observation&mdash;seeing many things that
+      the mere man-traveller would miss. Mr. Boyd's sketches are,
+      of course, excellent."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>PALL MALL GAZETTE</b>.&mdash;"Mrs. Boyd writes with so
+      much buoyancy, and her humour is so unexpected and unfailing,
+      that it is safe to say that there is not a dull page from
+      first to last in this record of a tour round the world... Mr.
+      A.S. Boyd's numerous illustrations show him at his very
+      best."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>GLOBE</b>.&mdash;"A work to acquire as well as to peruse."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>WESTMINSTER GAZETTE</b>.&mdash;"The narrative from
+      beginning to end does not contain a dull page. Of Mr. Boyd's
+      numerous sketches it is only necessary to say that they are
+      excellent. Altogether <i>Our Stolen Summer</i> will be found
+      to be one of the most fascinating of recent books of travel."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>SUNDAY TIMES</b>.&mdash;"Brilliantly and entertainingly
+      written, and liberally illustrated by an acknowledged master
+      of the art of black and white."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>SCOTSMAN</b>.&mdash;"A beautiful and fascinating book....
+      Pen and pencil sketches alike have grace, nerve, and humour,
+      and are alive with human interest and observation."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>GLASGOW HERALD</b>.&mdash;"One of the most delightful
+      travel-books of recent times.... Mrs. Boyd's volume must
+      commend itself to people who contemplate visiting the other
+      side of the globe and to all stay-at-home travellers as
+      well."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>DAILY FREE PRESS</b>.&mdash;"Mrs. Boyd is an admirable
+      descriptive writer&mdash;observant, humorous, and
+      sympathetic. Without illustrations, <i>Our Stolen Summer</i>
+      would be a notable addition to the literature of travel; with
+      Mr. Boyd's collaboration it is almost unique."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>LEEDS MERCURY</b>.&mdash;"Vivacious and diverting record."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>YORKSHIRE DAILY POST</b>.&mdash;"For such a book there
+      could be nothing but praise if one wrote columns about it."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>BIRMINGHAM DAILY POST</b>.&mdash;"A singularly happy and
+      interesting record of a most enjoyable tour."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>NORTHERN WHIG</b>.&mdash;"Shrewdness of observation, with
+      not a little humour and a real literary gift, mark the story
+      of <i>Our Stolen Summer</i>."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>THE BOOKMAN</b>.&mdash;"Mrs. Boyd writes with so much
+      brightness, such vivacity and picturesqueness of style, that
+      although the volume runs to close upon four hundred pages
+      there is not a dull page among them. The success of <i>Our
+      Stolen Summer</i>, however, is due as much to the artist as
+      to the author; and praise must be equally divided. Mr. Boyd's
+      sketches are spirited, clever, full of humour and sympathetic
+      observation. Without a word of letter-press they would have
+      formed an excellent travel-book; taken in conjunction with
+      Mrs. Boyd's narrative they are irresistible."
+    </p>
+    <center>
+      LONDON AND EDINBURGH: WILLIAM BLACKWOOD &amp; SONS
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <center>
+      <i><b>Illustrated by A.S. Boyd</b></i>
+    </center>
+    <h2>
+      A LOWDEN SABBATH MORN
+    </h2>
+    <center>
+      BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON<br>
+       WITH TWENTY-SEVEN PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS BY A.S. BOYD
+    </center>
+    <h3>
+      <i>Extracts from Reviews</i>
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      <b>THE TIMES</b>.&mdash;"The characters whom Stevenson had in
+      his mind's eye are all cleverly pictured, and the drawings
+      may be truthfully said to illustrate the writer's
+      ideas&mdash;a quality that seldom resides in
+      illustrations.... All are faithfully presented as only one
+      who has known them intimately could present them.... Mr.
+      Boyd's talent for black-and-white work has never found
+      happier expression."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>MORNING POST</b>.&mdash;"It is impossible to imagine
+      anything more likely to appeal to the sentiment of the
+      Scottish people throughout the world than this series of
+      pictures, instinct with the spirit of their land."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>DAILY TELEGRAPH</b>.&mdash;"One of the happiest
+      combinations of author and artist which has been seen of late
+      years. Mr. Boyd has entered thoroughly into the spirit of the
+      lines, and his figures are instinct with graceful humour."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>DAILY CHRONICLE</b>.&mdash;"Mr. Boyd is to be
+      congratulated (as R. L. S. would assuredly have granted) upon
+      interpreting so vividly a notable feature in the national
+      life of Scotland."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>ATHENAEUM</b>.&mdash;"The task of illustrating Stevenson's
+      verses was most difficult, because it demands from the artist
+      knowledge of local circumstances and characteristic details.
+      Mr. Boyd's success in making us see so plainly the moods and
+      manners of the 'restin' ploughman' while he 'daundered' in
+      his garden and 'raxed his limbs' is the more to be enjoyed
+      and praised."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>PALL MALL GAZETTE</b>.&mdash;"Followers of the master will
+      appreciate this beautiful book for its accurate
+      interpretation of the poem as well as for its excellent
+      drawing."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>ST. JAMES'S GAZETTE</b>.&mdash;"There is plenty of good
+      Scotch character in the illustrations, and a quiet
+      observation of the humours of a parish, with such annals as
+      those recorded by Gait."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>ACADEMY</b>.&mdash;"An attractive book."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>SATURDAY REVIEW</b>.&mdash;"In saying therefore that Mr.
+      Boyd's illustrations&mdash;there is a full page drawing for
+      each verse&mdash;are not only worthy of the poem, but
+      actually emphasise and define its merits, we give the book
+      the highest possible praise. It is a volume which should be
+      added to the library of every collector."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>SPECTATOR</b>.&mdash;"These illustrations to Mr.
+      Stevenson's Scots poem are distinctly clever, especially in
+      their characterisation of the various attendants at the
+      village kirk."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>SPEAKER</b>.&mdash;"The book presents very vividly some of
+      the aspects (both humorous and pathetic) of a Scottish rural
+      lowland parish, and will doubtless touch a chord in the heart
+      of Scotsmen throughout the world."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>OUTLOOK</b>.&mdash;"Many of Mr. Stevenson's admirers the
+      world over have long desired that such a classic poem should
+      be faithfully and adequately illustrated, and they will give
+      a hearty welcome to this most handsome quarto."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>SCOTSMAN</b>.&mdash;"One way and another the book is
+      wholly delightful."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>GLASGOW EVENING NEWS</b>.&mdash;"Mr. Boyd's contributions
+      to a volume which ought to be popular with Scots in every
+      part of the world, are full of pawky humour, and their
+      realism is so pronounced that we seem to have known the
+      models in the life."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>DUNDEE ADVERTISER</b>.&mdash;"This is a volume to be
+      treasured alike for the sake of the poet, of the artist, and
+      of that form of Scottish life which is rapidly disappearing
+      before the march of progress."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>ARBROATH HERALD</b>.&mdash;"Mr. Boyd has represented these
+      pictures in line sketches, which are characterised at once by
+      the strength and confidence of a masterful draughtsman and
+      the insight of a keen observer of character, who has long
+      been familiar with the types presented in Stevenson's poem."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>GOOD WORDS</b>.&mdash;"Mr. Boyd has portrayed, with here
+      and there a happy trait of grace or humour beyond the wording
+      of the text, the very scene and people. Each of the
+      illustrations has a charm and freshness of its own."
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>ART JOURNAL</b>.&mdash;"Mr. Boyd's knowledge of Lothian
+      peasants and their manners is as complete as Stevenson's. His
+      drawings place in pictorial view the poet's thoughts, while
+      they greatly enhance the descriptions by emphasising what the
+      writer rightly left vague."
+    </p>
+    <center>
+      LONDON: CHATTO &amp; WINDUS, III St. Martin's Lane
+    </center>
+    <center>
+      <img src="vxinset.png" width="150" height="163" alt="">
+    </center>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &nbsp;
+    </p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's A Versailles Christmas-Tide, by Mary Stuart Boyd
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A VERSAILLES CHRISTMAS-TIDE ***
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@@ -0,0 +1,2747 @@
+Project Gutenberg's A Versailles Christmas-Tide, by Mary Stuart Boyd
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Versailles Christmas-Tide
+
+Author: Mary Stuart Boyd
+
+Release Date: January 23, 2004 [EBook #10813]
+[Date last updated: December 22, 2004]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A VERSAILLES CHRISTMAS-TIDE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Karen Robinson, David Garcia and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+A VERSAILLES CHRISTMAS-TIDE
+
+By
+
+Mary Stuart Boyd
+
+With Fifty-three Illustrations by A.S. Boyd
+
+1901
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+     I. The Unexpected Happens
+    II. Ogams
+   III. The Town
+    IV. Our Arbre de Noel
+     V. Le Jour de l'Annee
+    VI. Ice-bound
+   VII. The Haunted Chateau
+  VIII. Marie Antoinette
+    IX. The Prisoners Released
+
+
+
+
+
+Illustrations
+
+The Summons
+Storm Warning
+Treasure Trove
+The Red Cross in the Window
+Enter M. le Docteur
+Perpetual Motion
+Ursa Major
+Meal Considerations
+The Two Colonels
+The Young and Brave
+Malcontent
+The Aristocrat
+Papa, Mama, et Bebe
+Juvenile Progress
+Automoblesse oblige
+Sable Garb
+A Football Team
+Mistress and Maid
+Sage and Onions
+Marketing
+Private Boxes
+A Foraging Party
+A Thriving Merchant
+Chestnuts in the Avenue
+The Tree Vendor
+The Tree Bearer
+Rosine
+Alms and the Lady
+Adoration
+Thankfulness
+One of the Devout
+De l'eau Chaude
+The Mill
+The Presbytery
+To the Place of Rest
+While the Frost Holds
+The Postman's Wrap
+A Lapful of Warmth
+The Daily Round
+Three Babes and a Bonne
+Snow in the Park
+A Veteran of the Chateau
+Un, Deux, Trois
+Bedchamber of Louis XIV
+Marie Leczinska
+Madame Adelaide
+Louis Quatorze
+Where the Queen Played
+Marie Antoinette
+The Secret Stair
+Madame sans Tete
+Illumination
+L'Envoi
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS
+
+
+[Illustration: The Summons]
+
+No project could have been less foreseen than was ours of wintering in
+France, though it must be confessed that for several months our thoughts
+had constantly strayed across the Channel. For the Boy was at school at
+Versailles, banished there by our desire to fulfil a parental duty.
+
+The time of separation had dragged tardily past, until one foggy
+December morning we awoke to the glad consciousness that that very
+evening the Boy would be with us again. Across the breakfast-table we
+kept saying to each other, "It seems scarcely possible that the Boy is
+really coming home to-night," but all the while we hugged the assurance
+that it was.
+
+The Boy is an ordinary snub-nosed, shock-headed urchin of thirteen, with
+no special claim to distinction save the negative one of being an only
+child. Yet without his cheerful presence our home seemed empty and dull.
+Any attempts at merry-making failed to restore its life. Now all was
+agog for his return. The house was in its most festive trim. Christmas
+presents were hidden securely away. There was rejoicing downstairs as
+well as up: the larder shelves were stored with seasonable fare, and
+every bit of copper and brass sparkled a welcome. Even the kitchen cat
+sported a ribbon, and had a specially energetic purr ready.
+
+Into the midst of our happy preparations the bad news fell with
+bomb-like suddenness. The messenger who brought the telegram whistled
+shrilly and shuffled a breakdown on the doorstep while he waited to hear
+if there was an answer.
+
+"He is ill. He can't come. Scarlet fever," one of us said in an odd,
+flat voice.
+
+"Scarlet fever. At school. Oh! when can we go to him? When is there a
+boat?" cried the other.
+
+There was no question of expediency. The Boy lay sick in a foreign land,
+so we went to him. It was full noon when the news came, and nightfall
+saw us dashing through the murk of a wild mid-December night towards
+Dover pier, feeling that only the express speed of the mail train was
+quick enough for us to breathe in.
+
+But even the most apprehensive of journeys may hold its humours. Just at
+the moment of starting anxious friends assisted a young lady into our
+carriage. "She was going to Marseilles. Would we kindly see that she got
+on all right?" We were only going as far as Paris direct. "Well, then,
+as far as Paris. It would be a great favour." So from Charing Cross to
+the Gare du Nord, Placidia, as we christened her, became our care.
+
+She was a large, handsome girl of about three-and-twenty. What was her
+reason for journeying unattended to Cairo we know not. Whether she ever
+reached her destination we are still in doubt, for a more complacently
+incapable damsel never went a-voyaging. The Saracen maiden who followed
+her English lover from the Holy Land by crying "London" and "A Becket"
+was scarce so impotent as Placidia; for any information the Saracen
+maiden had she retained, while Placidia naively admitted that she had
+already forgotten by which line of steamers her passage through the
+Mediterranean had been taken.
+
+Placidia had an irrational way of losing her possessions. While yet on
+her way to the London railway station she had lost her tam-o'-shanter.
+So perforce, she travelled in a large picture-hat which, although pretty
+and becoming, was hardly suitable headgear for channel-crossing in
+mid-winter.
+
+[Illustration: Storm Warning]
+
+It was a wild night; wet, with a rising north-west gale. Tarpaulined
+porters swung themselves on to the carriage-steps as we drew up at Dover
+pier, and warned us not to leave the train, as, owing to the storm, the
+Calais boat would be an hour late in getting alongside.
+
+The Ostend packet, lying beside the quay in full sight of the
+travellers, lurched giddily at her moorings. The fourth occupant of our
+compartment, a sallow man with yellow whiskers, turned green with
+apprehension. Not so Placidia. From amongst her chaotic hand-baggage she
+extracted walnuts and mandarin oranges, and began eating with an
+appetite that was a direct challenge to the Channel. Bravery or
+foolhardiness could go no farther.
+
+Providence tempers the wind to the parents who are shorn of their lamb.
+The tumult of waters left us scatheless, but poor Placidia early paid
+the penalty of her rashness. She "thought" she was a good sailor--though
+she acknowledged that this was her first sea-trip--and elected to remain
+on deck. But before the harbour lights had faded behind us a sympathetic
+mariner supported her limp form--the feathers of her incongruous hat
+drooping in unison with their owner--down the swaying cabin staircase
+and deposited her on a couch.
+
+"Oh! I do wish I hadn't eaten that fruit," she groaned when I offered
+her smelling-salts. "But then, you know, I was so hungry!"
+
+In the _train rapide_ a little later, Placidia, when arranging her wraps
+for the night journey, chanced, among the medley of her belongings, upon
+a missing boat-ticket whose absence at the proper time had threatened
+complications. She burst into good-humoured laughter at the discovery.
+"Why, here's the ticket that man made all the fuss about. I really
+thought he wasn't going to let me land till I found it. Now, I do wonder
+how it got among my rugs?"
+
+We seemed to be awake all night, staring with wide, unseeing eyes out
+into the darkness. Yet the chill before dawn found us blinking sleepily
+at a blue-bloused porter who, throwing open the carriage door, curtly
+announced that we were in Paris.
+
+Then followed a fruitless search for Placidia's luggage, a hunt which
+was closed by Placidia recovering her registration ticket (with a
+fragment of candy adhering to it) from one of the multifarious pockets
+of her ulster, and finding that the luggage had been registered on to
+Marseilles. "Will they charge duty on tobacco?" she inquired blandly, as
+she watched the Customs examination of our things. "I've such a lot of
+cigars in my boxes."
+
+There was an Old-Man-of-the-Sea-like tenacity in Placidia's smiling
+impuissance. She did not know one syllable of French. A new-born babe
+could not have revealed itself more utterly incompetent. I verily
+believe that, despite our haste, we would have ended by escorting
+Placidia across Paris, and ensconcing her in the Marseilles train, had
+not Providence intervened in the person of a kindly disposed polyglot
+traveller. So, leaving Placidia standing the picture of complacent
+fatuosity in the midst of a group consisting of this new champion and
+three porters, we sneaked away.
+
+[Illustration: Treasure Trove]
+
+Grey dawn was breaking as we drove towards St. Lazare Station, and the
+daily life of the city was well begun. Lights were twinkling in the dark
+interiors of the shops. Through the mysterious atmosphere figures loomed
+mistily, then vanished into the gloom. But we got no more than a vague
+impression of our surroundings. Throughout the interminable length of
+drive across the city, and the subsequent slow train journey, our
+thoughts were ever in advance.
+
+The tardy winter daylight had scarcely come before we were jolting in a
+_fiacre_ over the stony streets of Versailles. In the gutters, crones
+were eagerly rummaging among the dust heaps that awaited removal. In
+France no degradation attaches to open economies. Housewives on their
+way to fetch Gargantuan loaves or tiny bottles of milk for the matutinal
+_cafe-au-lait_ cast searching glances as they passed, to see if among
+the rubbish something of use to them might not be lurking. And at one
+alluring mound an old gentleman of absurdly respectable exterior
+perfunctorily turned over the scraps with the point of his cane.
+
+We had heard of a hotel, and the first thing we saw of it we liked. That
+was a pair of sabots on the mat at the foot of the staircase. Pausing
+only to remove the dust of travel, we set off to visit our son, walking
+with timorous haste along the grand old avenue where the school was
+situated. A little casement window to the left of the wide entrance-door
+showed a red cross. We looked at it silently, wondering.
+
+[Illustration: The Red Cross in the Window]
+
+In response to our ring the portal opened mysteriously at touch of the
+unseen concierge, and we entered. A conference with Monsieur le
+Directeur, kindly, voluble, tactfully complimentary regarding our
+halting French, followed. The interview over, we crossed the courtyard
+our hearts beating quickly. At the top of a little flight of worn stone
+steps was the door of the school hospital, and under the ivy-twined
+trellis stood a sweet-faced Franciscan Soeur, waiting to welcome us.
+
+[Illustration: Enter M. Le Docteur]
+
+Passing through a tiny outer room--an odd combination of dispensary,
+kitchen, and drawing-room with a red-tiled floor--we reached the
+sick-chamber, and saw the Boy. A young compatriot, also a victim of the
+disease, occupied another bed, but for the first moments we were
+oblivious of his presence. Raising his fever-flushed face from the
+pillows, the Boy eagerly stretched out his burning hands.
+
+"I heard your voices," his hoarse voice murmured contentedly, "and I
+knew _you_ couldn't be ghosts." Poor child! in the semidarkness of the
+lonely night-hours phantom voices had haunted him. We of the morning
+were real.
+
+The good Soeur buzzed a mild frenzy of "Il ne faut pas toucher" about
+our ears, but, all unheeding, we clasped the hot hands and crooned over
+him. After the dreary months of separation, love overruled wisdom. Mere
+prudence was not strong enough to keep us apart.
+
+Chief amongst the chaos of thoughts that had assailed us on the
+reception of the bad news, was the necessity of engaging an English
+medical man. But at the first sight of the French doctor, as, clad in a
+long overall of white cotton, he entered the sick-room, our insular
+prejudice vanished, ousted by complete confidence; a confidence that our
+future experience of his professional skill and personal kindliness only
+strengthened.
+
+It was with sore hearts that, the prescribed _cinq minutes_ ended, we
+descended the little outside stair. Still, we had seen the Boy; and
+though we could not nurse him, we were not forbidden to visit him. So we
+were thankful too.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+OGAMS
+
+
+[Illustration: Perpetual Motion]
+
+Our hotel was distinctively French, and immensely comfortable, in that
+it had gleaned, and still retained, the creature comforts of a century
+or two. Thus it combined the luxuries of hot-air radiators and electric
+light with the enchantment of open wood fires. Viewed externally, the
+building presented that airy aspect almost universal in Versailles
+architecture. It was white-tinted, with many windows shuttered without
+and heavily lace-draped within.
+
+A wide entrance led to the inner courtyard, where orange trees in green
+tubs, and trelliswork with shrivelled stems and leaves still adhering,
+suggested that it would be a pleasant summer lounge. Our hotel boasted a
+_grand salon_, which opened from the courtyard. It was an elaborately
+ornate room; but on a chilly December day even a plethora of
+embellishment cannot be trusted to raise by a single degree the
+temperature of the apartment it adorns, and the soul turns from a cold
+hearth, however radiant its garnish of artificial blossoms. A private
+parlour was scarcely necessary, for, with most French bedrooms, ours
+shared the composite nature of the accommodation known in a certain
+class of advertisement as "bed-sitting-room." So it was that during
+these winter days we made ourselves at home in our chamber.
+
+The shape of the room was a geometrical problem. The three windows each
+revealed different views, and the remainder of the walls curved
+amazingly. At first sight the furniture consisted mainly of draperies
+and looking-glass; for the room, though of ordinary dimensions, owned
+three large mirrors and nine pairs of curtains. A stately bed, endowed
+with a huge square down pillow, which served as quilt, stood in a
+corner. Two armchairs in brocaded velvet and a centre table were
+additions to the customary articles. A handsome timepiece and a
+quartette of begilt candelabra decked the white marble mantelpiece, and
+were duplicated in the large pier glass. The floor was of well-polished
+wood, a strip of bright-hued carpet before the bed, a second before the
+washstand, its only coverings. Need I say that the provision for
+ablutions was one basin and a liliputian ewer, and that there was not a
+fixed bath in the establishment?
+
+It was a resting-place full of incongruities; but apart from, or perhaps
+because of, its oddities it had a cosy attractiveness. From the moment
+of our entrance we felt at home. I think the logs that purred and
+crackled on the hearth had much to do with its air of welcome. There is
+a sense of companionship about a wood fire that more enduring coal
+lacks. Like a delicate child, the very care it demands nurtures your
+affection. There was something delightfully foreign and picturesque to
+our town ideas in the heap of logs that Karl carried up in a great
+_panier_ and piled at the side of the hearth. Even the little faggots of
+kindling wood, willow-knotted and with the dry copper-tinted leaves
+still clinging to the twigs, had a rustic charm.
+
+These were pleasant moments when, ascending from the chill outer air, we
+found our chamber aglow with ruddy firelight that glinted in the mirrors
+and sparkled on the shining surface of the polished floor; when we drew
+our chairs up to the hearth, and, scorning the electric light, revelled
+in the beauty of the leaping and darting flames.
+
+It was only in the _salle-a-manger_ that we saw the other occupants of
+the hotel; and when we learned that several of them had lived _en
+pension_ under the roof of the assiduous proprietor for periods varying
+from five to seven years, we felt ephemeral, mere creatures of a moment,
+and wholly unworthy of regard.
+
+[Illustration: Ursa Major]
+
+At eight o'clock Karl brought the _petit dejeuner_ of coffee and rolls
+to our room. At eleven, our morning visit to the school hospital over,
+we breakfasted in the _salle-a-manger_, a large bright room, one or
+other of whose many south windows had almost daily, even in the depth of
+winter, to be shaded against the rays of the sun. Three chandeliers of
+glittering crystal starred with electric lights depended from the
+ceiling. Half a dozen small tables stood down each side; four larger
+ones occupied the centre of the floor, and were reserved for transient
+custom.
+
+The first thing that struck us as peculiar was that every table save
+ours was laid for a single person, with a half bottle of wine, red or
+white, placed ready, in accordance with the known preference of the
+expected guest. We soon gathered that several of the regular customers
+lodged outside and, according to the French fashion, visited the hotel
+for meals only. After the early days of keen anxiety regarding our
+invalid had passed, we began to study our fellow guests individually and
+to note their idiosyncrasies. Sitting at our allotted table during the
+progress of the leisurely meals, we used to watch as one _habitue_ after
+another entered, and, hanging coat and hat upon certain pegs, sat
+silently down in his accustomed place, with an unvarying air of calm
+deliberation.
+
+Then Iorson, the swift-footed _garcon_, would skim over the polished
+boards to the newcomer, and, tendering the menu, would wait, pencil in
+hand, until the guest, after careful contemplation, selected his five
+_plats_ from its comprehensive list.
+
+[Illustration: Meal Considerations]
+
+The most picturesque man of the company had white moustaches of
+surprising length. On cold days he appeared enveloped in a fur coat, a
+garment of shaggy brown which, in conjunction with his hirsute
+countenance, made his aspect suggest the hero in pantomime renderings of
+"Beauty and the Beast." But in our hotel there was no Beauty, unless
+indeed it were Yvette, and Yvette could hardly be termed beautiful.
+
+Yvette also lived outside. She did not come to _dejeuner_, but every
+night precisely at a quarter-past seven the farther door would open, and
+Yvette, her face expressing disgust with the world and all the things
+thereof, would enter.
+
+Yvette was blonde, with neat little features, a pale complexion, and
+tiny hands that were always ringless. She rang the changes on half a
+dozen handsome cloaks of different degrees of warmth. To an intelligent
+observer their wear might have served as a thermometer. Yvette was
+_blasee_, and her millinery was in sympathy with her feelings. Her hats
+had all a fringe of disconsolate feathers, whose melancholy plumage
+emphasised the downward curve of her mouth. To see Yvette enter from the
+darkness and, seating herself at her solitary table, droop over her
+plate as though there were nothing in Versailles worth sitting upright
+for, was to view _ennui_ personified.
+
+Yvette invariably drank white wine, and the food rarely pleased her. She
+would cast a contemptuous look over the menu offered by the deferential
+Henri, then turn wearily away, esteeming that no item on its length
+merited even her most perfunctory consideration. But after one or two
+despondent glances, Yvette ever made the best of a bad bargain, and
+ordered quite a comprehensive little dinner, which she ate with the same
+air of utter disdain. She always concluded by eating an orange dipped in
+sugar. Even had a special table not been reserved for her, one could
+have told where Yvette had dined by the bowl of powdered sugar, just as
+one could have located the man with the fierce moustaches and the fur
+coat by the presence of his pepper-mill, or the place of "Madame" from
+her prodigal habit of rending a quarter-yard of the crusty French bread
+in twain and consuming only the soft inside.
+
+From the ignorance of our cursory acquaintance we had judged the French
+a sociable nation. Our stay at Versailles speedily convinced us of the
+fallacy of that belief. Nothing could have impressed us so forcibly as
+did the frigid silence that characterised the company. Many of them had
+fed there daily for years, yet within the walls of the sunny dining-room
+none exchanged even a salutation. This unexpected taciturnity in a
+people whom we had been taught to regard as lively and voluble made us
+almost ashamed of our own garrulity, and when, in the presence of the
+silent company, we were tempted to exchange remarks, we found ourselves
+doing it in hushed voices as though we were in church.
+
+A clearer knowledge, however, showed us that though some unspoken
+convention rendered the hotel guests oblivious of each other's presence
+while indoors, beyond the hotel walls they might hold communion. Two
+retired military men, both wearing the red ribbon of the Legion of
+Honour, as indeed did most of our _habitues_, sat at adjacent tables.
+One, tall and thin, was a Colonel; the other, little and neat, a Colonel
+also. To the casual gaze they appeared complete strangers, and we had
+consumed many meals in their society before observing that whenever the
+tall Colonel had sucked the last cerise from his glass of _eau-de-vie_,
+and begun to fold his napkin--a formidable task, for the serviettes
+fully deserved the designation later bestowed on them by the Boy, of
+"young table-cloths"--the little Colonel made haste to fold his also.
+Both rose from their chairs at the same instant, and the twain, having
+received their hats from the attentive Iorson, vanished, still mute,
+into the darkness together.
+
+[Illustration: The Two Colonels]
+
+Once, to our consternation, the little Colonel replaced his napkin in
+its ring without waiting for the signal from the tall Colonel. But our
+apprehension that they, in their dealings in that mysterious outer world
+which twice daily they sought together, might have fallen into a
+difference of opinion was dispelled by the little Colonel, who had
+risen, stepping to his friend and holding out his hand. This the tall
+Colonel without withdrawing his eyes from _Le Journal des Debats_ which
+he was reading, silently pressed. Then, still without a word spoken or a
+look exchanged, the little Colonel passed out alone.
+
+[Illustration: The Young and Brave]
+
+The average age of the Ogams was seventy. True, there was Dunois the
+Young and Brave, who could not have been more than forty-five. What his
+name really was we knew not, but something in his comparatively juvenile
+appearance among the chevaliers suggested the appellation which for lack
+of a better we retained. Dunois' youth might only be comparative, but
+his bravery was indubitable; for who among the Ogams but he was daring
+enough to tackle the _pate-de-foie-gras_, or the _abattis_, a stew
+composed of the gizzards and livers of fowls? And who but Dunois would
+have been so reckless as to follow baked mussels and _crepinettes_ with
+_rognons frits_?
+
+Dunois, too, revealed intrepid leanings toward strange liquors.
+Sometimes--it was usually at _dejeuner_ when he had dined out on the
+previous evening--he would demand the wine-list of Iorson, and rejecting
+the _vin blanc_ or _vin rouge_ which, being _compris_, contented the
+others, would order himself something of a choice brand. One of his
+favourite papers was _Le Rire_, and Henri, Iorson's youthful assistant,
+regarded him with admiration.
+
+[Illustration: Malcontent]
+
+A less attractive presence in the dining-room was Madame. Madame, who
+was an elderly dame of elephantine girth, had resided in the hotel for
+half a dozen years, during which period her sole exercise had been taken
+in slowly descending from her chamber in the upper regions for her
+meals, and then, leisurely assimilation completed, in yet more slowly
+ascending. Madame's allotted seat was placed in close proximity to the
+hot-air register; and though Madame was usually one of the first to
+enter the dining-room, she was generally the last to leave. Madame's
+appetite was as animated as her body was lethargic. She always drank her
+half-bottle of red wine to the dregs, and she invariably concluded with
+a greengage in brandy. So it was small marvel that, when at last she
+left her chair to "tortoise" upstairs, her complexion should be two
+shades darker than when she descended.
+
+Five dishes, irrespective of _hors d'oeuvres_ at luncheon, and _potage_
+at dinner, were allowed each guest, and Madame's selection was an affair
+of time. Our hotel was justly noted for its _cuisine_, yet on infrequent
+occasions the food supplied to Madame was not to her mind. At these
+times the whole establishment suffered until the irascible old lady's
+taste was suited. One night at dinner Iorson had the misfortune to serve
+Madame with some turkey that failed to meet with her approval. With the
+air of an insulted empress, Madame ordered its removal. The conciliatory
+Iorson obediently carried off the dish and speedily returned, bearing
+what professed to be another portion. But from the glimpse we got as it
+passed our table we had a shrewd suspicion that Iorson the wily had
+merely turned over the piece of turkey and re-served it with a little
+more gravy and an additional dressing of _cressons_. Madame, it
+transpired, shared our suspicions, for this portion also she declined,
+with renewed indignation. Then followed a long period of waiting,
+wherein Madame, fidgeting restlessly on her seat, kept fierce eyes fixed
+on the door through which the viands entered.
+
+Just as her impatience threatened to vent itself in action, Iorson
+appeared bearing a third helping of turkey. Placing it before the irate
+lady, he fled as though determined to debar a third repudiation. For a
+moment an air of triumph pervaded Madame's features. Then she began to
+gesticulate violently, with the evident intention of again attracting
+Iorson's notice. But the forbearance even of the diplomatic Iorson was
+at an end. Re-doubling his attentions to the diners at the farther side
+of the room, he remained resolutely unconscious of Madame's signals,
+which were rapidly becoming frantic.
+
+The less sophisticated Henri, however, feeling a boyish interest in the
+little comedy, could not resist a curious glance in Madame's direction.
+That was sufficient. Waving imperiously, Madame compelled his approach,
+and, moving reluctantly, fearful of the issue, Henri advanced.
+
+"Couteau!" hissed Madame. Henri flew to fetch the desired implement,
+and, realising that Madame had at last been satisfied, we again breathed
+freely.
+
+A more attractive personage was a typical old aristocrat, officer of the
+Legion of Honour, who used to enter, walk with great dignity to his
+table, eat sparingly of one or two dishes, drink a glass of his _vin
+ordinaire_ and retire. Sometimes he was accompanied by a tiny spaniel,
+which occupied a chair beside him; and frequently a middle-aged son,
+whose bourgeois appearance was in amazing contrast to that of his
+refined old father, attended him.
+
+[Illustration: The Aristocrat]
+
+There were others, less interesting perhaps, but equally self-absorbed.
+One afternoon, entering the cable car that runs--for fun, apparently, as
+it rarely boasted a passenger--to and from the Trianon, we recognised in
+its sole occupant an Ogam who during the weeks of our stay had eaten, in
+evident oblivion of his human surroundings, at the table next to ours.
+Forgetting that we were without the walls of silence, we expected no
+greeting; but to our amazement he rose, and, placing himself opposite
+us, conversed affably and in most excellent English for the rest of the
+journey. To speak with him was to discover a courteous and travelled
+gentleman. Yet during our stay in Versailles we never knew him exchange
+even a bow with any of his fellow Ogams, who were men of like
+qualifications, though, as he told us, he had taken his meals in the
+hotel for over five years.
+
+Early in the year our peace was rudely broken by the advent of a
+commercial man--a short, grey-haired being of an activity so foreign to
+our usage that a feeling of unrest was imparted to the _salle-a-manger_
+throughout his stay. His movements were distractingly erratic. In his
+opinion, meals were things to be treated casually, to be consumed
+haphazard at any hour that chanced to suit. He did not enter the
+dining-room at the exact moment each day as did the Ogams. He would rush
+in, throw his hat on a peg, devour some food with unseemly haste, and
+depart in less time than it took the others to reach the _legumes_.
+
+[Illustration: Papa, Mama et Bebe]
+
+He was hospitable too, and had a disconcerting way of inviting guests to
+luncheon or dinner, and then forgetting that he had done so. One morning
+a stranger entered, and after a brief conference with Iorson, was
+conducted to the commercial man's table to await his arrival. The
+regular customers took their wonted places, and began in their leisurely
+fashion to breakfast, and still the visitor sat alone, starting up
+expectantly every time a door opened, then despondently resuming his
+seat.
+
+At last Iorson, taking compassion, urged the neglected guest to while
+away his period of waiting by trifling with the _hors-d'oeuvres_. He was
+proceeding to allay the pangs of hunger with selections from the tray of
+anchovies, sardines, pickled beet, and sliced sausage, when his host
+entered, voluble and irrepressible as ever. The dignified Ogams
+shuddered inwardly as his strident voice awoke the echoes of the room,
+and their already stiff limbs became rigid with disapproval.
+
+In winter, transient visitors but rarely occupied one or other of the
+square centre tables, though not infrequently a proud father and mother
+who had come to visit a soldier son at the barracks, brought him to the
+hotel for a meal, and for a space the radiance of blue and scarlet and
+the glint of steel cast a military glamour over the staid company.
+
+An amusing little circumstance to us onlookers was that although the
+supply of cooked food seemed equal to any demand, the arrival of even a
+trio of unexpected guests to dinner invariably caused a dearth of bread.
+For on their advent Iorson would dash out bareheaded into the night, to
+reappear in an incredibly short time carrying a loaf nearly as tall as
+himself.
+
+One morning a stalwart young Briton brought to breakfast a pretty
+English cousin, on leave of absence from her boarding-school. His
+knowledge of French was limited. When anything was wanted he shouted
+"Garcon!" in a lordly voice, but it was the pretty cousin who gave the
+order. _Dejeuner_ over, they departed in the direction of the Chateau.
+And at sunset as we chanced to stroll along the Boulevard de la Reine,
+we saw the pretty cousin, all the gaiety fled from her face, bidding her
+escort farewell at the gate of a Pension pour Demoiselles. The ball was
+over. Poor little Cinderella was perforce returning to the dust and
+ashes of learning.
+
+[Illustration: Juvenile Progress]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE TOWN
+
+
+The English-speaking traveller finds Versailles vastly more foreign than
+the Antipodes. He may voyage for many weeks, and at each distant
+stopping-place find his own tongue spoken around him, and his
+conventions governing society. But let him leave London one night, cross
+the Channel at its narrowest--and most turbulent--and sunrise will find
+him an alien in a land whose denizens differ from him in language,
+temperament, dress, food, manners, and customs.
+
+Of a former visit to Versailles we had retained little more than the
+usual tourist's recollection of a hurried run through a palace of
+fatiguing magnificence, a confusing peep at the Trianons, a glance
+around the gorgeous state equipages, an unsatisfactory meal at one of
+the open-air _cafes_, and a scamper back to Paris. But our winter
+residence in the quaint old town revealed to us the existence of a life
+that is all its own--a life widely variant, in its calm repose, from the
+bustle and gaiety of the capital, but one that is replete with charm,
+and abounding in picturesque-interest.
+
+[Illustration: Automoblesse Oblige]
+
+Versailles is not ancient; it is old, completely old. Since the fall of
+the Second Empire it has stood still. Most of the clocks have run down,
+as though they realised the futility of trying to keep pace with the
+rest of the world. The future merges into the present, the present fades
+into the past, and still the clocks of Versailles point to the same long
+eventide.
+
+[Illustration: Sable Garb]
+
+The proximity of Paris is evinced only by the vividly tinted automobiles
+that make Versailles their goal. Even they rarely tarry in the old town,
+but, turning at the Chateau gates, lose no time in retracing their
+impetuous flight towards a city whose usages accord better with their
+creed of feverish hurry-scurry than do the conventions of reposeful
+Versailles. And these fiery chariots of modernity, with their ghoulish,
+fur-garbed, and hideously spectacled occupants, once their raucous,
+cigale-like birr-r-r has died away in the distance, leave infinitely
+less impression on the placid life of Versailles than do their wheels on
+the roads they traverse. Under the grand trees of the wide avenues the
+townsfolk move quietly about, busying themselves with their own affairs
+and practising their little economies as they have been doing any time
+during the last century.
+
+Perhaps it was the emphatic and demonstrative nature of the mourning
+worn that gave us the idea that the better-class female population of
+Versailles consisted chiefly of widows. When walking abroad we seemed
+incessantly to encounter widows: widows young and old, from the aged to
+the absurdly immature. It was only after a period of bewilderment that
+it dawned upon us that the sepulchral garb and heavy crape veils
+reaching from head to heel were not necessarily the emblems of
+widowhood, but might signify some state of minor bereavement. In Britain
+a display of black such as is an everyday sight at Versailles is
+undreamt of, and one saw more crape veils in a day in Versailles than in
+London in a week. Little girls, though their legs might be uncovered,
+had their chubby features shrouded in disfiguring gauze and to our
+unaccustomed foreign eyes a genuine widow represented nothing more
+shapely than a more or less stubby pillar festooned with crape.
+
+But for an inborn conviction that a frugal race like the French would
+not invest in a plethora of mourning garb only to cast it aside after a
+few months' wear, and that therefore the period of wearing the willow
+must be greatly protracted, we would have been haunted by the idea that
+the adult male mortality of Versailles was enormous.
+
+"Do they wear such deep mourning for all relatives?" I asked our hotel
+proprietor, who had just told us that during the first month of mourning
+the disguising veils were worn over the faces.
+
+Monsieur shook his sleek head gravely, "But no, Madame, not for all. For
+a husband, yes; for a father or mother, yes; for a sister or brother, an
+uncle or aunt, yes; but for a cousin, _no_."
+
+He pronounced the _no_ so emphatically as almost to convince us of his
+belief that in refusing to mourn in the most lugubrious degree for
+cousins the Versaillese acted with praiseworthy self-denial.
+
+There seemed to be no medium between sackcloth and gala-dress. We seldom
+noted the customary degrees of half-mourning. Plain colours were
+evidently unpopular and fancy tartans of the most flamboyant hues
+predominated amongst those who, during a spell of, say, three years had
+been fortunate enough not to lose a parent, sister, brother, uncle, or
+aunt. A perfectly natural reaction appeared to urge the _ci-devant_
+mourners to robe themselves in lively checks and tartans. It was as
+though they said--"Here at last is our opportunity for gratifying our
+natural taste in colours. It will probably be of but short duration.
+Therefore let us select a combination of all the most brilliant tints
+and wear them, for who knows how soon that gruesome pall of woe may
+again enshroud us."
+
+Probably it was the vicinity of our hotel to the Church of Notre Dame
+that, until we discovered its brighter side, led us to esteem Versailles
+a veritable city of the dead, for on our bi-daily walks to visit the
+invalids we were almost certain to encounter a funeral procession either
+approaching or leaving Notre Dame. And on but rare occasions was the
+great central door undraped with the sepulchral insignia which
+proclaimed that a Mass for the dead was in prospect or in progress.
+Sometimes the sable valance and portieres were heavily trimmed and
+fringed with silver; at others there was only the scantiest display of
+time-worn black cloth.
+
+[Illustration: A Football Team]
+
+The humblest funeral was affecting and impressive. As the sad little
+procession moved along the streets--the wayfarers reverently uncovering
+and soldiers saluting as it passed--the dirge-like chant of the
+_Miserere_ never failed to fill my eyes with unbidden tears of sympathy
+for the mourners, who, with bowed heads, walked behind the wreath-laden
+hearse.
+
+Despite the abundant emblems of woe, Versailles can never appear other
+than bright and attractive. Even in mid-winter the skies were clear, and
+on the shortest days the sun seldom forgot to cast a warm glow over the
+gay, white-painted houses. And though the women's dress tends towards
+depression, the brilliant military uniforms make amends. There are
+12,000 soldiers stationed in Versailles; and where a fifth of the
+population is gorgeous in scarlet and blue and gold, no town can be
+accused of lacking colour.
+
+Next to the redundant manifestations of grief, the thing that most
+impressed us was the rigid economy practised in even the smallest
+details of expenditure. Among the lower classes there is none of that
+aping of fashion so prevalent in prodigal England; the different social
+grades have each a distinctive dress and are content to wear it. Among
+the men, blouses of stout blue cotton and sabots are common. Sometimes
+velveteen trousers, whose original tint years of wear have toned to some
+exquisite shade of heliotrope, and a russet coat worn with a fur cap and
+red neckerchief, compose an effect that for harmonious colouring would
+be hard to beat. The female of his species, as is the case in all
+natural animals, is content to be less adorned. Her skirt is black, her
+apron blue. While she is young, her neatly dressed hair, even in the
+coldest weather, is guiltless of covering. As her years increase she
+takes her choice of three head-dresses, and to shelter her grey locks
+selects either a black knitted hood, a checked cotton handkerchief, or a
+white cap of ridiculously unbecoming design.
+
+No French workaday father need fear that his earnings will be squandered
+on such perishable adornments as feathers, artificial flowers, or
+ribbons. The purchases of his spouse are certain to be governed by
+extreme frugality. She selects the family raiment with a view to
+durability. Flimsy finery that the sun would fade, shoddy materials that
+a shower of rain would ruin, offer no temptations to her. When she
+expends a few _sous_ on the cutting of her boy's hair, she has it
+cropped until his cranium resembles the soft, furry skin of a mole, thus
+rendering further outlay in this respect unlikely for months. And when
+she buys a flannel shirt, a six-inch strip of the stuff, for future
+mending, is always included in the price.
+
+But with all this economy there is an air of comfort, a complete absence
+of squalor. In cold weather the school-girls wear snug hoods, or little
+fur turbans; and boys have the picturesque and almost indestructible
+berets of cloth or corduroy. Cloth boots that will conveniently slip
+inside sabots for outdoor use are greatly in vogue, and the comfortable
+Capuchin cloaks--whose peaked hood can be drawn over the head, thus
+obviating the use of umbrellas--are favoured by both sexes and all ages.
+
+[Illustration: Mistress and Maid]
+
+As may be imagined, little is spent on luxuries. Vendors of frivolities
+know better than to waste time tempting those provident people. On one
+occasion only did I see money parted with lightly, and in that case the
+bargain appeared astounding. One Sunday morning an enterprising huckster
+of gimcrack jewellery, venturing out from Paris, had set down his strong
+box on the verge of the market square, and, displaying to the admiring
+eyes of the country folks, ladies' and gentlemen's watches with chains
+complete, in the most dazzling of aureate metal, sold them at six sous
+apiece as quickly as he could hand them out.
+
+Living is comparatively cheap in Versailles; though, as in all places
+where the cost of existence is low, it must be hard to earn a livelihood
+there. By far the larger proportion of the community reside in flats,
+which can be rented at sums that rise in accordance with the
+accommodation but are in all cases moderate. Housekeeping in a flat,
+should the owner so will it, is ever conducive to economy, and life in a
+French provincial town is simple and unconventional.
+
+[Illustration: Sage and Onions]
+
+Bread, wine, and vegetables, the staple foods of the nation, are good
+and inexpensive. For 40 centimes one may purchase a bottle of _vin de
+gard_, a thin tipple, doubtless; but what kind of claret could one buy
+for fourpence a quart at home? _Graves_ I have seen priced at 50
+centimes, _Barsac_ at 60, and _eau de vie_ is plentiful at 1 franc 20!
+
+Fish are scarce, and beef is supposed to be dear; but when butter, eggs,
+and cheese bulk so largely in the diet, the half chicken, the scrap of
+tripe, the slice of garlic sausage, the tiny cut of beef for the
+_ragout_, cannot be heavy items. Everything eatable is utilised, and
+many weird edibles are sold; for the French can contrive tasty dishes
+out of what in Britain would be thrown aside as offal.
+
+On three mornings a week--Sunday, Tuesday, and Friday--the presence of
+the open-air market rouses Versailles from her dormouse-like slumber and
+galvanises her into a state of activity that lasts for several hours.
+Long before dawn, the roads leading townwards are busy with all manner
+of vehicles, from the great waggon drawn by four white horses driven
+tandem, and laden with a moving stack of hay, to the ramshackle
+donkey-cart conveying half a score of cabbages, a heap of dandelions
+grubbed from the meadows, and the owner.
+
+[Illustration: Marketing]
+
+By daybreak the market square under the leafless trees presents a lively
+scene. There are stalls sacred to poultry, to butter, eggs, and cheese;
+but the vegetable kingdom predominates. Flanked by bulwarks of greens
+and bundles of leeks of incredible whiteness and thickness of stem, sit
+the saleswomen, their heads swathed in gay cotton kerchiefs, and the
+ground before them temptingly spread with little heaps of corn salad, of
+chicory, and of yellow endive placed in adorable contrast to the scarlet
+carrots, blood-red beetroot, pinky-fawn onions, and glorious orange-hued
+pumpkins; while ready to hand are measures of white or mottled haricot
+beans, of miniature Brussels sprouts, and of pink or yellow potatoes, an
+esculent that in France occupies a very unimportant place compared with
+that it holds amongst the lower classes in Britain.
+
+[Illustration: Private Boxes]
+
+In Versailles Madame does her own marketing, her maid--in sabots and
+neat but usually hideous cap--accompanying her, basket laden. From stall
+to stall Madame passes, buying a roll of creamy butter wrapped in fresh
+leaves here, a fowl there, some eggs from the wrinkled old dame who
+looks so swart and witch-like in contrast to her stock of milk-white
+eggs.
+
+Madame makes her purchases judiciously--time is not a valuable commodity
+in Versailles--and finishes, when the huge black basket is getting heavy
+even for the strong arms of the squat little maid, by buying a mess of
+cooked spinach from the pretty girl whose red hood makes a happy spot of
+colour among the surrounding greenery, and a measure of onions from the
+profound-looking sage who garners a winter livelihood from the summer
+produce of his fields.
+
+[Illustration: A Foraging Party]
+
+Relations with uncooked food are, in Versailles, distinguished by an
+unwonted intimacy. No one, however dignified his station or appearance,
+is ashamed of purchasing the materials for his dinner in the open
+market, or of carrying them home exposed to the view of the world
+through the transpicuous meshes of a string bag. The portly gentleman
+with the fur coat and waxed moustaches, who looks a general at least,
+and is probably a tram-car conductor, bears his bunch of turnips with an
+air that dignifies the office, just as the young sub-lieutenant in the
+light blue cloak and red cap and trousers carries his mother's apples
+and lettuces without a thought of shame. And it is easy to guess the
+nature of the _dejeuner_ of this _simple soldat_ from the long loaf, the
+bottle of _vin ordinaire_, and the onions that form the contents of his
+net. In the street it was a common occurrence to encounter some
+non-commissioned officer who, entrusted with the catering for his mess,
+did his marketing accompanied by two underlings, who bore between them
+the great open basket destined to hold his purchases.
+
+[Illustration: A Thriving Merchant]
+
+A picturesque appearance among the hucksters of the market square is the
+_boite de carton_ seller. Blue-bloused, with his stock of lavender or
+brown bandboxes strapped in a cardboard Tower of Pisa on his back, he
+parades along, his wares finding ready sale; for his visits are
+infrequent, and if one does not purchase at the moment, as does Madame,
+the opportunity is gone.
+
+The spirit of camaraderie is strong amongst the good folks of the
+market. One morning the Artist had paused a moment to make a rough
+sketch of a plump, affable man who, shadowed by the green cotton awning
+of his stall, was selling segments of round flat cheeses of goat's milk;
+vile-smelling compounds that, judged from their outer coating of
+withered leaves, straw, and dirt, would appear to have been made in a
+stable and dried on a rubbish heap. The subject of the jotting, busy
+with his customers, was all unconscious; but an old crone who sat, her
+feet resting on a tiny charcoal stove, amidst a circle of decadent
+greens, detecting the Artist's action, became excited, and after eyeing
+him uneasily for a moment, confided her suspicions as to his ulterior
+motive to a round-faced young countryman who retailed flowers close by.
+He, recognising us as customers--even then we were laden with his
+violets and mimosa--merely smiled at her concern. But his apathy only
+served to heighten Madame's agitation. She was unwilling to leave her
+snug seat yet felt that her imperative duty lay in acquainting Monsieur
+du Fromage with the inexplicable behaviour of the inquisitive foreigner.
+But the nefarious deed was already accomplished, and as we moved away
+our last glimpse was of the little stove standing deserted, while Madame
+hastened across the street in her clattering sabots to warn her friend.
+
+The bustle of the market is soon ended. By ten o'clock the piles of
+vegetables are sensibly diminished. By half-past ten the white-capped
+maid-servants have carried the heavy baskets home, and are busy
+preparing lunch. At eleven o'clock the sharp boy whose stock-in-trade
+consisted of three trays of snails stuffed _a la_ Bourgogne has sold all
+the large ones at 45 centimes a dozen, all the small at 25, and quite
+two-thirds of the medium-sized at 35 centimes.
+
+The clock points to eleven. The sun is high now. The vendors awaken to
+the consciousness of hunger, and Madame of the _pommes frites_ stall,
+whose assistant dexterously cuts the peeled tubers into strips, is fully
+occupied in draining the crisp golden shreds from the boiling fat and
+handing them over, well sprinkled with salt and pepper, to avid
+customers, who devour them smoking hot, direct from their paper
+cornucopias.
+
+Long before the first gloom of the early mid-winter dusk, all has been
+cleared away. The rickety stalls have been demolished; the unsold
+remainder of the goods disposed of; the worthy country folks, their
+pockets heavy with _sous_, are well on their journey homewards, and only
+a litter of straw, of cabbage leaves and leek tops remains as evidence
+of the lively market of the morning.
+
+[Illustration: Chestnuts in the Avenue]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+OUR ARBRE DE NOEL
+
+
+We bought it on the Sunday morning from old Grand'mere Gomard in the
+Avenue de St. Cloud.
+
+It was not a noble specimen of a Christmas-tree. Looked at with cold,
+unimaginative eyes, it might have been considered lopsided; undersized
+it undoubtedly was. Yet a pathetic familiarity in the desolate aspect of
+the little tree aroused our sympathy as no rare horticultural trophy
+ever could.
+
+Some Christmas fairy must have whispered to Grand'mere to grub up the
+tiny tree and to include it in the stock she was taking into Versailles
+on the market morning. For there it was, its roots stuck securely into a
+big pot, looking like some forlorn forest bantling among the garden
+plants.
+
+[Illustration: The Tree Vendor]
+
+Grand'mere Gomard had established herself in a cosy nook at the foot of
+one of the great leafless trees of the Avenue. Straw hurdles were
+cunningly arranged to form three sides of a square, in whose midst she
+was seated on a rush-bottomed chair, like a queen on a humble throne.
+Her head was bound by a gaily striped kerchief, and her feet rested
+snugly on a charcoal stove. Her merchandise, which consisted of half a
+dozen pots of pink and white primulas, a few spotted or crimson
+cyclamen, sundry lettuce and cauliflower plants, and some roots of
+pansies and daisies, was grouped around her.
+
+[Illustration: The Tree-Bearer]
+
+The primulas and cyclamen, though their pots were shrouded in pinafores
+of white paper skilfully calculated to conceal any undue lankiness of
+stem, left us unmoved. But the sight of the starveling little fir tree
+reminded us that in the school hospital lay two sick boys whose roseate
+dreams of London and holidays had suddenly changed to the knowledge that
+weeks of isolation and imprisonment behind the window-blind with the red
+cross lay before them. If we could not give them the longed-for home
+Christmas, we could at least give them a Christmas-tree.
+
+The sight of foreign customers for Grand'mere Gomard speedily collected
+a small group of interested spectators. A knot of children relinquished
+their tantalising occupation of hanging round the pan of charcoal over
+whose glow chestnuts were cracking appetisingly, and the stall of the
+lady who with amazing celerity fried pancakes on a hot plate, and sold
+them dotted with butter and sprinkled with sugar to the lucky possessors
+of a _sou_. Even the sharp urchin who presided over the old red
+umbrella, which, reversed, with the ferule fixed in a cross-bar of wood,
+served as a receptacle for sheets of festive note-paper embellished with
+lace edges and further adorned with coloured scraps, temporarily
+entrusting a juvenile sister with his responsibilities, added his
+presence to our court.
+
+[Illustration: Rosine]
+
+Christmas-trees seemed not to be greatly in demand in Versailles, and
+many were the whispered communings as to what _les Anglais_ proposed
+doing with the tree after they had bought it. When the transaction was
+completed and Grand'mere Gomard had exchanged the tree, with a sheet of
+_La Patrie_ wrapped round its pot, for a franc and our thanks, the
+interest increased. We would require some one to carry our purchase, and
+each of the bright-eyed, short-cropped Jeans and Pierres was eager to
+offer himself. But our selection was already made. A slender boy in a
+_beret_ and black pinafore, who had been our earliest spectator, was
+singled out and entrusted with the conveyance of the _arbre de Noel_ to
+our hotel.
+
+The fact that it had met with approbation appeared to encourage the
+little tree. The change may have been imaginary, but from the moment it
+passed into our possession the branches seemed less despondent, the
+needles more erect.
+
+"Will you put toys on it?" the youthful porter asked suddenly.
+
+"Yes; it is for a sick boy--a boy who has fever. Have you ever had an
+_arbre de Noel_?"
+
+"_Jamais_," was his conclusive reply: the tone thereof suggesting that
+that was a felicity quite beyond the range of possibility.
+
+The tree secured, there began the comparatively difficult work of
+finding the customary ornaments of glass and glitter to deck it. A
+fruitless search had left us almost in despair, when, late on Monday
+afternoon, we joyed to discover miniature candles of red, yellow, and
+blue on the open-air stall in front of a toy-store. A rummage in the
+interior of the shop procured candle clips, and a variety of glittering
+bagatelles. Laden with treasure, we hurried back to the hotel, and began
+the work of decoration in preparation for the morning.
+
+During its short stay in our room at the hotel, the erstwhile despised
+little tree met with an adulation that must have warmed the heart within
+its rough stem. When nothing more than three coloured glass globes, a
+gilded walnut, and a gorgeous humming-bird with wings and tail of spun
+glass had been suspended by narrow ribbon from its branches, Rosine, the
+pretty Swiss chambermaid, chancing to enter the room with letters, was
+struck with admiration and pronounced it "tres belle!"
+
+And Karl bringing in a fresh _panier_ of logs when the adorning was
+complete, and silly little delightful baubles sparkled and twinkled from
+every spray, putting down his burden, threw up his hands in amazement
+and declared the _arbre de Noel_ "magnifique!"
+
+This alien Christmas-tree had an element all its own. When we were
+searching for knick-knacks the shops were full of tiny Holy Babes lying
+cradled in waxen innocence in mangers of yellow corn. One of these
+little effigies we had bought because they pleased us. And when, the
+decoration of the tree being nearly finished, the tip of the centre stem
+standing scraggily naked called for covering, what more fitting than
+that the dear little Sacred _Bebe_ in his nest of golden straw should
+have the place of honour?
+
+It was late on Christmas Eve before our task was ended. But next morning
+when Karl, carrying in our _petit dejeuner_, turned on the electric
+light, and our anxious gaze sought our work, we found it good.
+
+Then followed a hurried packing of the loose presents; and, a _fiacre_
+having been summoned, the tree which had entered the room in all
+humility passed out transmogrified beyond knowledge. Rosine, duster in
+hand, leant over the banisters of the upper landing to watch its
+descent. Karl saw it coming and flew to open the outer door for its
+better egress. Even the stout old driver of the red-wheeled cab creaked
+cumbrously round on his box to look upon its beauties.
+
+[Illustration: Alms and the Lady]
+
+The Market was busy in the square as we rattled through. From behind
+their battlemented wares the country mice waged wordy war with the town
+mice over the price of merchandise. But on this occasion we were too
+engrossed to notice a scene whose picturesque humour usually fascinated
+us, for as the carriage jogged over the rough roads the poor little
+_arbre de Noel_ palpitated convulsively. The gewgaws clattered like
+castanets, as though in frantic expostulation, and the radiant
+spun-glass humming-birds quivered until we expected them to break from
+their elastic fetters and fly away. The green and scarlet one with the
+gold-flecked wings fell on the floor and rolled under the seat just as
+the cab drew up at the great door of the school.
+
+The two Red-Cross prisoners who, now that the dominating heat of fever
+had faded, were thinking wistfully of the forbidden joys of home, had no
+suspicion of our intention, and we wished to surprise them. So, burdened
+with our treasure, we slipped in quietly.
+
+From her lodge window the concierge nodded approval. And at the door of
+the hospital the good Soeur received us, a flush of pleasure glorifying
+her tranquil face.
+
+Then followed a moment wherein the patients were ordered to shut their
+eyes, to reopen them upon the vision splendid of the _arbre de Noel_.
+Perhaps it was the contrast to the meagre background of the tiny
+school-hospital room, with its two white beds and bare walls, but,
+placed in full view on the centre table, the tree was almost imposing.
+Standing apart from Grand'mere's primulas and cyclamen as though,
+conscious of its own inferiority, it did not wish to obtrude, it had
+looked dejected, miserable. During its sojourn at the hotel the
+appreciation of its meanness had troubled us. But now, in the shabby
+little chamber, where there were no rival attractions to detract from
+its glory, we felt proud of it. It was just the right size for the
+surroundings. A two-franc tree, had Grand'mere possessed one, would have
+been Brobdignagian and pretentious.
+
+[Illustration: Adoration]
+
+A donor who is handicapped by the knowledge that the gifts he selects
+must within a few weeks be destroyed by fire, is rarely lavish in his
+outlay. Yet our presents, wrapped in white paper and tied with blue
+ribbons, when arranged round the flower-pot made a wonderful show, There
+were mounted Boers who, when you pressed the ball at the end of the
+air-tube, galloped in a wobbly, uncertain fashion. The invalids had good
+fun later trying races with them, and the Boy professed to find that his
+Boer gained an accelerated speed when he whispered "Bobs" to him. There
+were tales of adventure and flasks of eau-de-Cologne and smart virile
+pocket-books, one red morocco, the other blue. We regretted the
+pocket-books; but their possession made the recipients who, boylike,
+took no heed for the cleansing fires of the morrow, feel grown-up at
+once. And they yearned for the advent of the first day of the year, that
+they might begin writing in their new diaries. For the Sister there was
+a miniature gold consecrated medal. It was a small tribute of our
+esteem, but one that pleased the devout recipient.
+
+[Illustration: Thankfulness]
+
+Suspended among the purely ornamental trinkets of the tree hung tiny net
+bags of crystallised violets and many large chocolates rolled up in
+silver paper. The boys, who had subsisted for several days on nothing
+more exciting than boiled milk, openly rejoiced when they caught sight
+of the sweets. But to her patients' disgust, the Soeur, who had a pretty
+wit of her own, promptly frustrated their intentions by counting the
+dainties.
+
+"I count the chocolates. They are good boys, wise boys, honest boys, and
+I have every confidence in them, but--I count the chocolates!" said the
+Soeur.
+
+[Illustration: One of the Devout]
+
+As we passed back along the Rue de la Paroisse, worshippers were
+flocking in and out of Notre Dame, running the gauntlet of the unsavoury
+beggars who, loudly importunate, thronged the portals. Before the quiet
+nook wherein, under a gold-bestarred canopy, was the tableau of the
+Infant Jesus in the stable, little children stood in wide-eyed
+adoration, and older people gazed with mute devotion.
+
+Some might deem the little spectacle theatrical, and there was a slight
+irrelevance in the pot-plants that were grouped along the foreground,
+but none could fail to be impressed by the silent reverence of the
+congregation. No service was in process, yet many believers knelt at
+prayer. Here a pretty girl returned thanks for evident blessings
+received; there an old spinster, the narrowness of whose means forbade
+her expending a couple of sous on the hire of a chair, knelt on the
+chilly flags and murmured words of gratitude for benefits whereof her
+appearance bore no outward indication.
+
+We had left the prisoners to the enjoyment of their newly acquired
+property in the morning. At gloaming we again mounted the time-worn
+outside stair leading to the chamber whose casement bore the ominous red
+cross. The warm glow of firelight filled the room, scintillating in the
+glittering facets of the baubles on the tree; and from their pillows two
+pale-faced boys--boys who, despite their lengthening limbs were yet
+happily children at heart--watched eager-eyed while the sweet-faced
+Soeur, with reverential care, lit the candles that surrounded the Holy
+_Bebe_.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+LE JOUR DE L'ANNEE
+
+
+The closing days of 1900 had been unusually mild. Versailles townsfolk,
+watching the clear skies for sign of change, declared that it would be
+outside all precedent if Christmas week passed without snow. But,
+defiant of rule, sunshine continued, and the new century opened
+cloudless and bright.
+
+[Illustration: De L'eau Chaude]
+
+Karl, entering with hot water, gave us seasonable greeting, and as we
+descended the stair, pretty Rosine, brushing boots at the open window of
+the landing, also wished us a smiling _bonne nouvelle annee_. But within
+or without there was little token of gaiety. Sundry booths for the sale
+of gingerbread and cheap _jouets_, which had been erected in the Avenue
+de St. Cloud, found business languishing, though a stalwart countryman
+in blouse and sabots, whose stock-in-trade consisted of whirligigs
+fashioned in the semblance of _moulins rouges_ and grotesque blue
+Chinamen which he carried stuck into a straw wreath fixed on a tall
+pole, had no lack of custom.
+
+The great food question never bulks so largely in the public interest as
+at the close of a year, so perhaps it was but natural that the greatest
+appreciation of the festive traditions of the season should be evinced
+by the shops devoted to the sale of provender. Turkeys sported scarlet
+bows on their toes as though anticipating a dance rather than the oven;
+and by their sides sausages, their somewhat plethoric waists girdled by
+pink ribbon sashes, seemed ready to join them in the frolic. In one
+cookshop window a trio of plaster nymphs who stood ankle-deep in a pool
+of crimped green paper, upheld a huge garland of cunningly moulded wax
+roses, dahlias, and lilac, above which perched a pheasant regnant. This
+trophy met with vast approbation until a rival establishment across the
+way, not to be outdone, exhibited a centrepiece of unparalleled
+originality, consisting as it did of a war scene modelled entirely in
+lard. Entrenched behind the battlements of the fort crowning an
+eminence, Boers busied themselves with cannon whose aim was carefully
+directed towards the admiring spectators outside the window, not at the
+British troops who were essaying to scale the greasy slopes. Half way up
+the hill, a miniature train appeared from time to time issuing from an
+absolutely irrelevant tunnel, and, progressing at the rate of quite a
+mile an hour, crawled into the corresponding tunnel on the other side.
+At the base of the hill British soldiers, who seemed quite cognisant of
+the utter futility of the Boer gunnery, were complacently driving off
+cattle. Captious critics might have taken exception to the fact that the
+waxen camellias adorning the hill were nearly as big as the battlements,
+and considerably larger than the engine of the train. But fortunately
+detractors were absent, and such trifling discrepancies did not lessen
+the genuine delight afforded the spectators by this unique design which,
+as a card proudly informed the world, was entirely the work of the
+employes of the firm.
+
+It was in a patisserie in the Rue de la Paroisse that we noticed an
+uninviting compound labelled "Pudding Anglais, 2 fr. 1/2 kilo." A little
+thought led us to recognise in this amalgamation a travesty of our old
+friend plum-pudding; but so revolting was its dark, bilious-looking
+exterior that we felt its claim to be accounted a compatriot almost
+insulting. And it was with secret gratification that towards the close
+of January we saw the same stolid, unhappy blocks awaiting purchasers.
+
+[Illustration: The Mill]
+
+The presence of the customary Tuesday market kept the streets busy till
+noon. But when the square was again empty of sellers and buyers
+Versailles relapsed into quietude. I wonder if any other town of its
+size is as silent as Versailles. There is little horse-traffic. Save for
+the weird, dirge-like drone of the electric cars, which seems in perfect
+consonance with the tone of sadness pervading the old town whose glory
+has departed, the clang of the wooden shoes on the rough pavement, and
+the infrequent beat of hoofs as a detachment of cavalry moves by,
+unnatural stillness seems to prevail.
+
+Of street music there was none, though once an old couple wailing a
+plaintive duet passed under our windows. Britain is not esteemed a
+melodious nation, yet the unclassical piano is ever with us, and even in
+the smallest provincial towns one is rarely out of hearing of the
+insistent note of some itinerant musician. And no matter how far one
+penetrates into the recesses of the country, he is always within reach
+of some bucolic rendering of the popular music-hall ditty of the year
+before last. But never during our stay in Versailles, a stay that
+included what is supposedly the gay time of the year, did we hear the
+sound of an instrument, or--with the one exception of the old couple,
+whom it would be rank flattery to term vocalists--the note of a voice
+raised in song.
+
+With us, New Year's Day was a quiet one. A dozen miles distant, Paris
+was welcoming the advent of the new century in a burst of feverish
+excitement. But despite temptations, we remained in drowsy Versailles,
+and spent several of the hours in the little room where two pallid
+Red-Cross knights, who were celebrating the occasion by sitting up for
+the first time, waited expectant of our coming as their one link with
+the outside world.
+
+[Illustration: The Presbytery]
+
+It was with a sincere thrill of pity that at _dejeuner_ we glanced round
+the _salle-a-manger_ and found all the Ogams filling their accustomed
+solitary places. Only Dunois the comparatively young, and presumably
+brave, was absent. The others occupied their usual seats, eating with
+their unfailing air of introspective absorption. Nobody had cared enough
+for these lonely old men to ask them to fill a corner at their tables,
+even on New Year's Day. To judge by their regular attendance at the
+hotel meals, these men--all of whom, as shown by their wearing the red
+ribbon of the Legion of Honour, had merited distinction--had little
+hospitality offered them. Most probably they offered as little, for,
+throughout our stay, none ever had a friend to share his breakfast or
+dinner.
+
+The bearing of the hotel guests suggested absolute ignorance of one
+another's existence. The Colonels, as I have said in a previous chapter,
+were exceptions, but even they held intercourse only without the hotel
+walls. Day after day, month after month, year after year as we were
+told, these men had fed together, yet we never saw them betray even the
+most cursory interest in one another. They entered and departed without
+revealing, by word or look, cognisance of another human being's
+presence. Could one imagine a dozen men of any other nationality thus
+maintaining the same indifference over even a short period? I hope
+future experience will prove me wrong, but in the meantime my former
+conception of the French as a nation overflowing with _bonhomie_ and
+_camaraderie_ is rudely shaken.
+
+The day of the year would have passed without anything to distinguish it
+from its fellows had not the proprietor, who, by the way, was a Swiss,
+endeavoured by sundry little attentions to reveal his goodwill. Oysters
+usurped the place of the customary _hors d'oeuvres_ at breakfast, and
+the meal ended with _cafe noir_ and cognac handed round by the
+deferential Iorson as being "offered by the proprietor," who, entering
+during the progress of the _dejeuner_, paid his personal respects to his
+_clientele_.
+
+The afternoon brought us a charming discovery. We had a boy guest with
+us at luncheon, a lonely boy left at school when his few
+compatriots--save only the two Red-Cross prisoners--had gone home on
+holiday. The day was bright and balmy; and while strolling in the park
+beyond the Petit Trianon, we stumbled by accident upon the _hameau_, the
+little village of counterfeit rusticity wherein Marie Antoinette loved
+to play at country life.
+
+Following a squirrel that sported among the trees, we had strayed from
+the beaten track, when, through the leafless branches, we caught sight
+of roofs and houses and, wandering towards them, found ourselves by the
+side of a miniature lake, round whose margin were grouped the daintiest
+rural cottages that monarch could desire or Court architect design.
+
+History had told us of the creation of this unique plaything of the
+capricious Queen, but we had thought of it as a thing of the past, a toy
+whose fragile beauty had been wrecked by the rude blows of the
+Revolution. The matter-of-fact and unromantic Baedeker, it is true, gives
+it half a line. After devoting pages to the Chateau, its grounds,
+pictures, and statues, and detailing exhaustively the riches of the
+Trianons, he blandly mentions the gardens of the Petit Trianon as
+containing "some fine exotic trees, an artificial lake, a Temple of
+Love, and a hamlet where the Court ladies played at peasant life."
+
+It is doubtful whether ten out of every hundred tourists who, Baedeker
+in hand, wander conscientiously over the grand Chateau--Palace, alas! no
+longer--ever notice the concluding words, or, reading its lukewarm
+recommendation, deem the hamlet worthy of a visit. The Chateau is an
+immense building crammed with artistic achievements, and by the time the
+sightseer of ordinary capacity has seen a tenth of the pictures, a third
+of the sculpture, and a half of the fountains, his endurance, if not all
+his patience, is exhausted.
+
+I must acknowledge that we, too, had visited Versailles without
+discovering that the _hameau_ still existed; so to chance upon it in the
+sunset glow of that winter evening seemed to carry us back to the time
+when the storm-cloud of the Revolution was yet no larger than a man's
+hand; to the day when Louis XVI., making for once a graceful speech,
+presented the site to his wife, saying: "You love flowers. Ah! well, I
+have a bouquet for you--the Petit Trianon." And his Queen, weary of the
+restrictions of Court ceremony--though it must be admitted that the
+willful Marie Antoinette ever declined to be hampered by
+convention--experiencing in her residence in the little house freedom
+from etiquette, pursued the novel pleasure to its furthest by commanding
+the erection in its grounds of a village wherein she might the better
+indulge her newly fledged fancy for make-believe rusticity.
+
+About the pillars supporting the verandah-roof of the chief cottage and
+that of the wide balcony above, roses and vines twined lovingly. And
+though it was the first day of January, the rose foliage was yet green
+and bunches of shrivelled grapes clung to the vines. It was lovely then;
+yet a day or two later, when a heavy snowfall had cast a white mantle
+over the village, and the little lake was frozen hard, the scene seemed
+still more beautiful in its ghostly purity.
+
+At first sight there was no sign of decay about the long-deserted
+hamlet. The windows were closed, but had it been early morning, one
+could easily have imagined that the pseudo villagers were asleep behind
+the shuttered casements, and that soon the Queen, in some charming
+_deshabille_, would come out to breathe the sweet morning air and to
+inhale the perfume of the climbing roses on the balcony overlooking the
+lake, wherein gold-fish darted to and fro among the water-lilies; or
+expect to see the King, from the steps of the little mill where he
+lodged, exchange blithe greetings with the maids of honour as they
+tripped gaily to the _laiterie_ to play at butter-making, or sauntered
+across the rustic bridge on their way to gather new-laid eggs at the
+farm.
+
+The sunset glamour had faded and the premature dusk of mid-winter was
+falling as, approaching nearer, we saw where the roof-thatch had
+decayed, where the insidious finger of Time had crumbled the stone
+walls. A chilly wind arising, moaned through the naked trees. The shadow
+of the guillotine seemed to brood oppressively over the scene, and,
+shuddering, we hastened away.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: To the Place of Rest]
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+ICE-BOUND
+
+
+Even in the last days of December rosebuds had been trying to open on
+the standard bushes in the sheltered rose-garden of the Palace. But with
+the early nights of January a sudden frost seized the town in its icy
+grip, and, almost before we had time to realise the change of weather,
+pipes were frozen and hot-water bottles of strange design made their
+appearance in the upper corridors of the hotel. The naked cherubs in the
+park basins stood knee-deep in ice, skaters skimmed the smooth surface
+of the canal beyond the _tapis vert_, and in a twinkling Versailles
+became a town peopled by gnomes and brownies whose faces peeped quaintly
+from within conical hoods.
+
+Soldiers drew their cloak-hoods over their uniform caps. Postmen went
+their rounds thus snugly protected from the weather. The doddering old
+scavengers, plying their brooms among the great trees of the avenues,
+bore so strong a resemblance to the pixies who lurk in caves and woods,
+that we almost expected to see them vanish into some crevice in the
+gnarled roots of the trunks. Even the tiny acolytes trotting gravely in
+the funeral processions had their heads and shoulders shrouded in the
+prevailing hooded capes.
+
+[Illustration: While the Frost Holds]
+
+To us, accustomed though we were to an inclement winter climate, the
+chill seemed intense. So frigid was the atmosphere that the first step
+taken from the heated hotel hall into the outer air felt like putting
+one's face against an iceberg. All wraps of ordinary thickness appeared
+incapable of excluding the cold, and I sincerely envied the countless
+wearers of the dominant Capuchin cloaks.
+
+[Illustration: The Postman's Wrap]
+
+Our room was many-windowed, and no matter how high Karl piled the logs,
+nor how close we sat to the flames, our backs never felt really warm. It
+was only when night had fallen and the outside shutters were firmly
+closed that the thermometer suspended near the chimney-piece grudgingly
+consented to record temperate heat.
+
+[Illustration: A Lapful of Warmth]
+
+But there was at least one snug chamber in Versailles, and that was the
+room of the Red-Cross prisoners. However extravagant the degrees of
+frost registered without, the boys' sick-room was always pleasantly
+warm. How the good Soeur, who was on duty all day, managed to regulate
+the heat throughout the night-watches was her secret. A half-waking boy
+might catch a glimpse of her, apparently robed as by day, stealing out
+of the room; but so noiseless were her movements, that neither of the
+invalids ever saw her stealing in. They had a secret theory that in her
+own little apartment, which was just beyond theirs, the Soeur, garbed,
+hooded, and wearing rosary and the knotted rope of her Order, passed her
+nights in devotion. Certain it was that even the most glacial of
+weathers did not once avail to prevent her attending the Mass that was
+held at Notre Dame each morning before daybreak.
+
+[Illustration: The Daily Round]
+
+Frost-flowers dulled the inner glories of the shop windows with their
+unwelcome decoration. Even in the square on market mornings business
+flagged. The country folks, chilled by their cold drive to town,
+cowered, muffled in thick wraps, over their little charcoal stoves,
+lacking energy to call attention to their wares. The sage with the
+onions was absent, but the pretty girl in the red hood held her
+accustomed place, warming mittened fingers at a chaufferette which she
+held on her lap. The only person who gave no outward sign of misery was
+the boulangere who, harnessed to her heavy hand-cart, toiled
+unflinchingly on her rounds.
+
+In the streets the comely little _bourgeoises_ hid their plump shoulders
+under ugly black knitted capes, and concealed their neat hands in clumsy
+worsted gloves. But despite the rigour of the atmosphere their heads,
+with the hair neatly dressed _a la Chinoise_, remained uncovered. It
+struck our unaccustomed eyes oddly to see these girls thus exposed,
+standing on the pavement in the teeth of some icy blast, talking to
+stalwart soldier friends, whose noses were their only visible feature.
+
+[Illustration: Three Babes and a Bonne]
+
+The ladies of Versailles give a thought to their waists, but they leave
+their ankles to Providence, and any one having experience of Versailles
+winter streets can fully sympathise with their trust; for even in dry
+sunny weather mud seems a spontaneous production that renders goloshes a
+necessity. And when frost holds the high-standing city in its frigid
+grasp the extreme cold forbids any idea of coquetry, and thickly lined
+boots with cloth uppers--a species of foot-gear that in grace of outline
+is decidedly suggestive of "arctics"--become the only comfortable wear.
+
+[Illustration: Snow in the Park]
+
+After a few days of thought-congealing cold--a cold so intense that
+sundry country people who had left their homes before dawn to drive into
+Paris with farm produce were taken dead from their market-carts at the
+end of the journey--the weather mercifully changed. A heavy snowfall now
+tempered the inclement air, and turned the leafless park into a fairy
+vision.
+
+The nights were still cold, but during the day the sun glinted warmly on
+the frozen waters of the gilded fountains and sparkled on the facets of
+the crisp snow. The marble benches in the sheltered nooks of the snug
+Chateau gardens were occupied by little groups, which usually consisted
+of a _bonne_ and a baby, or of a chevalier and a hopelessly unclassable
+dog; for the dogs of Versailles belong to breeds that no man living
+could classify, the most prevalent type in clumsiness of contour and
+astonishing shagginess of coat resembling nothing more natural than
+those human travesties of the canine race familiar to us in pantomime.
+
+Along the snow-covered paths under the leafless trees, on whose branches
+close-wreathed mistletoe hangs like rooks' nests, the statues stood like
+guardian angels of the scene. They had lost their air of aloofness and
+were at one with the white earth, just as the forest trees in their
+autumn dress of brown and russet appear more in unison with their parent
+soil than when decked in their bravery of summer greenery.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+THE HAUNTED CHATEAU
+
+
+[Illustration: A Veteran of the Chateau]
+
+The Chateau of Versailles, like the town, dozes through the winter, only
+half awakening on Sunday afternoons when the townsfolk make it their
+meeting-place. Then conscripts, in clumsy, ill-fitting uniforms, tread
+noisily over the shining _parqueterie_ floors, and burgesses gossip
+amicably in the dazzling _Galerie des Glaces_, where each morning
+courtiers were wont to await the uprising of their king. But on the
+weekdays visitors are of the rarest. Sometimes a few half-frozen people
+who have rashly automobiled thither from Paris alight at the Chateau
+gates, and take a hurried walk through the empty galleries to restore
+the circulation to their stiffened limbs before venturing to set forth
+on the return journey.
+
+Every weekday in the Place d'Armes, squads of conscripts are busily
+drilling, running hither and thither with unflagging energy, and the air
+resounds with the hoarse staccato cries of "Un! Deux! Trois!" wherewith
+they accompany their movements, cries that, heard from a short distance,
+exactly resemble the harsh barking of a legion of dogs.
+
+[Illustration: Un--Deux--Trois]
+
+Within the gates there is a sense of leisure: even the officials have
+ceased to anticipate visitors. In the _Cour Royale_ two little girls
+have cajoled an old guide into playing a game of ball. A custodian dozes
+by the great log fire in the bedroom of Louis XIV., where the warm
+firelight playing on the rich trappings lends such an air of occupation
+to the chamber, that--forgetting how time has turned to grey the once
+white ostrich plumes adorning the canopy of the bed, and that the
+priceless lace coverlet would probably fall to pieces at a touch--one
+almost expects the door to open for the entrance of Louis le Grand
+himself.
+
+To this room he came when he built the Palace wherein to hide from that
+grim summons with which the tower of the Royal sepulture of St. Denis,
+visible from his former residence, seemed to threaten him. And here it
+was that Death, after long seeking, found him. We can see the little
+great-grandson who was to succeed, lifted on to the bed of the dying
+monarch.
+
+[Illustration: The Bedchamber of Louis XIV]
+
+"What is your name, my child?" asks the King.
+
+"Louis XV;" replies the infant, taking brevet-rank. And nearly sixty
+years later we see the child, his wasted life at an end, dying of
+virulent smallpox under the same roof, deserted by all save his devoted
+daughters.
+
+To me the Palace of Versailles is peopled by the ghosts of many women. A
+few of them are dowdy and good, but by far the greater number are
+graceful and wicked. How infinitely easier it is to make a good bad
+reputation than to achieve even a bad good one! "Tell us stories about
+naughty children," we used to beseech our nurses. And as our years
+increase we still yawn over the doings of the righteous, while our
+interest in the ways of transgressors only strengthens.
+
+We all know by heart the romantic lives of the shrinking La Valliere, of
+Madame de Montespan the impassioned, of sleek Madame de Maintenon--the
+trio of beauties honoured by the admiration of Louis le Grand; and of
+the bevy of favourites of Louis XV, the three fair and short-lived
+sisters de Mailly-Nesle, the frail Pompadour who mingled scheming with
+debauchery, and the fascinating but irresponsible Du Barry. Even the most
+minute details of Marie Antoinette's tragic career are fresh in our
+memories, but which of us can remember the part in the history of France
+played by Marie Leczinska? Yet, apart from her claim to notability as
+having been the last queen who ended her days on the French throne, her
+story is full of romantic interest.
+
+Thrusting aside the flimsy veil of Time, we find Marie Leczinska the
+penniless daughter of an exiled Polish king who is living in retirement
+in a dilapidated commandatory at a little town in Alsace. It is easy to
+picture the shabby room wherein the unforeseeing Marie sits content
+between her mother and grandmother, all three diligently broidering
+altar cloths. Upon the peaceful scene the father enters, overcome by
+emotion, trembling. His face announces great news, before he can school
+his voice to speak.
+
+"Why, father! Have you been recalled to the throne of Poland?" asks
+Marie, and the naive question reveals that many years of banishment have
+not quenched in the hearts of the exiles the hope of a return to their
+beloved Poland.
+
+"No, my daughter, but you are to be Queen of France," replies the
+father. "Let us thank God."
+
+[Illustration: Marie Leczinska]
+
+Knowing the sequel, one wonders if it was for a blessing or a curse that
+the refugees, kneeling in that meagre room in the old house at
+Wissenberg, returned thanks.
+
+Certain it is that the ministers of the boy-monarch were actuated more
+by a craving to further their own ends than either by the desire to
+please God or to honour their King, in selecting this obscure maiden
+from the list of ninety-nine marriageable princesses that had been drawn
+up at Versailles. A dowerless damsel possessed of no influential
+relatives is not in a position to be exacting, and, whate'er befell,
+poor outlawed Stanislas Poniatowski could not have taken up arms in
+defence of his daughter.
+
+Having a sincere regard for unaffected Marie Leczinska, I regret being
+obliged to admit that, even in youth, "comely" was the most effusive
+adjective that could veraciously be awarded her. And it is only in the
+lowest of whispers that I will admit that she was seven years older than
+her handsome husband, whose years did not then number seventeen. Yet is
+there indubitable charm in the simple grace wherewith Marie accepted her
+marvellous transformation from pauper to queen. She disarmed criticism
+by refusing to conceal her former poverty. "This is the first time in my
+life I have been able to make presents," she frankly told the ladies of
+the Court, as she distributed among them her newly got trinkets.
+
+It is pleasant to remember that the early years of her wedded life
+passed harmoniously. Louis, though never passionately enamoured of his
+wife, yet loved her with the warm affection a young man bestows on the
+first woman he has possessed. And that Marie was wholly content there is
+little doubt. She was no gadabout. Versailles satisfied her. Three years
+passed before she visited Paris, and then the visit was more of the
+nature of a pilgrimage than of a State progress. Twin daughters had
+blessed the union, and the Queen journeyed to the churches of Notre Dame
+and Saint Genevieve to crave from Heaven the boon of a Dauphin: a prayer
+which a year later was answered.
+
+But clouds were gathering apace. As he grew into manhood the domestic
+virtues palled upon Louis. He tired of the needlework which, doubtless,
+Marie's skilled hands had taught him. We recall how, sitting between her
+mother and grandmother, the future Queen had broidered altar cloths.
+Marie Leczinska was an adoring mother; possibly her devotion to their
+rapidly increasing family wearied him. Being little more than a child
+himself, the King is scarcely likely to have found the infantile society
+so engaging as did the mother. Thus began that series of foolish
+infidelities that, characterised by extreme timidity and secrecy at
+first, was latterly flaunted in the face of the world.
+
+Marie's life was not a smooth one, but it was happier than that of her
+Royal spouse. To me there is nothing sadder, nothing more sordid in
+history, than the feeble, useless existence of Louis XV., whose early
+years promised so well. It is pitiful to look at the magnificent
+portrait, still hanging in the palace where he reigned, of the
+child-king seated in his robes of State, the sceptre in his hand,
+looking with eyes of innocent wonder into the future, then to think upon
+the depth of degradation reached by the once revered Monarch before his
+body was dragged in dishonour and darkness to its last resting-place.
+
+[Illustration: Madame Adelaide]
+
+Pleasanter figures that haunt the Chateau are those of the six pretty
+daughters of Louis and Marie Leczinska. There are the ill-starred twins,
+Elizabeth and Henrietta: Madame Elizabeth, who never lost the love of
+her old home, and, though married, before entering her teens, to the
+Infanta of Spain, retired, after a life of disappointment, to her
+beloved Versailles to die; and the gentle Henrietta who, cherishing an
+unlucky passion for the young Duc de Chartres, pined quietly away after
+witnessing her lover wed to another.
+
+Then there is Adelaide, whom Nattier loved to paint, portraying her
+sometimes as a lightly clad goddess, sometimes sitting demurely in a
+pretty frock. Good Nattier! there is a later portrait of himself in
+complacent middle age surrounded by his wife and children; but I like to
+think that, when he spent so many days at the Palace painting the young
+Princess, some tenderer influence than mere artistic skill lent cunning
+to his brush.
+
+When the daughters of Louis XV. were sent to be educated at a convent,
+Adelaide it was who, by tearful protest to her royal father, gained
+permission to remain at the Palace while her sisters meekly endured
+their banishment. From this instance of childish character one would
+have anticipated a career for Madame Adelaide, and I hate being obliged
+to think of her merely developing into one of the three spinster aunts
+of Louis XVI. who, residing under the same roof, turned coldly
+disapproving eyes upon the manifold frailties of their niece, Marie
+Antoinette.
+
+The sisters Victoire and Sophie are faint shades leaving no impression
+on the memory; but there is another spirit, clad in the sombre garb of a
+Carmelite nun, who, standing aloof, looks with the calm eyes of peace on
+the motley throng. It is Louise, the youngest sister of all, who, deeply
+grieved by her father's infatuation for the Du Barry--an infatuation
+which, beginning within a month of Marie Leczinska's decease, ended only
+when on his deathbed the dying Monarch prepared to receive absolution by
+bidding his inamorata farewell--resolved to flee her profligate
+surroundings and devote her life to holiness.
+
+It is affecting to think of the gentle Louise, secretly anticipating the
+rigours of convent life, torturing her delicate skin by wearing coarse
+serge, and burning tallow candles in her chamber to accustom herself to
+their detestable odour.
+
+Her father's consent gained, Louise still tarried at Versailles. Perhaps
+the King's daughter shrank from voluntarily beginning a life of
+imprisoned drudgery. We know that at this period she passed many hours
+reading contemporary history, knowing that, once within the convent
+walls, the study of none but sacred literature would be permitted.
+
+Then came an April morning when Louise, who had kept her intention
+secret from all save her father, left the Palace never to return.
+France, in a state of joyous excitement, was eagerly anticipating the
+arrival of Marie Antoinette, who was setting forth on the first stage of
+that triumphal journey which had so tragic an ending. Already the gay
+clamour of wedding-bells filled the air; and Louise may have feared
+that, did she linger at Versailles, the enticing vanities of the world
+might change the current of her thoughts.
+
+Chief among the impalpable throng that people the state galleries is
+Marie Antoinette, and her spirit shows us many faces. It is charming,
+haughty, considerate, headstrong, frivolous, thoughtful, degraded,
+dignified, in quick succession. We see her arrive at the Palace amid the
+tumultuous adoration of the crowd, and leave amidst its execrations.
+Sometimes she is richly apparelled, as befits a queen; anon she sports
+the motley trappings of a mountebank. The courtyard that saw the
+departure of Madame Louise witnesses Marie Antoinette, returning at
+daybreak in company with her brother-in-law from some festivity
+unbecoming a queen, refused admittance by the King's express command.
+
+[Illustration: Louis Quatorze]
+
+Many of the attendant spirits who haunt Marie Antoinette's ghostly
+footsteps as they haunted her earthly ones are malefic. Most are women,
+and all are young and fair. There is Madame Roland, who, taken as a
+young girl to the Palace to peep at the Royalties, became imbued by that
+jealous hatred which only the Queen's death could appease.
+
+"If I stay here much longer," she told that kindly mother who sought to
+give her a treat by showing her Court life, "I shall detest these people
+so much that I shall be unable to hide my hatred."
+
+It is easy to fancy the girl's evil face scowling at the unconscious
+Queen, before she leaves to pen those inflammatory pamphlets which are
+to prove the Sovereign's undoing and her own. For by some whim of fate
+Madame Roland was executed on the very scaffold to which her envenomed
+writings had driven Marie Antoinette.
+
+A spectre that impresses as wearing rags under a gorgeous robe, lurks
+among the foliage of the quiet _bosquet_ beyond the orangerie. It is the
+infamous Madame de la Motte, chief of adventuresses, and it was in that
+secluded grove that her tool, Cardinal de Rohan, had his pretended
+interview with the Queen. Poor, perfidious Contesse! what an existence
+of alternate beggarly poverty and beggarly riches was hers before that
+last scene of all when she lay broken and bruised almost beyond human
+semblance in that dingy London courtyard beneath the window from which,
+in a mad attempt to escape arrest, she had thrown herself.
+
+Through the Royal salons flits a presence whereat the shades of the
+Royal Princesses look askance: that of the frolicsome, good-natured,
+irresponsible Du Barry. A soulless ephemera she, with no ambitions or
+aspirations, save that, having quitted the grub stage, she desires to be
+as brilliant a butterfly as possible. Close in attendance on her moves
+an ebon shadow--Zamora, the ingrate foundling who, reared by the
+Duchesse, swore that he would make his benefactress ascend the scaffold,
+and kept his oath. For our last sight of the prodigal, warm-hearted Du
+Barry, plaything of the aged King, is on the guillotine, where in
+agonies of terror she fruitlessly appeals to her executioner's clemency.
+
+But of all the bygone dames who haunt the grand Chateau, the only one I
+detest is probably the most irreproachable of all--Madame de Maintenon.
+There is something so repulsively sanctimonious in her aspect, something
+so crafty in the method wherewith, under the cloak of religion, she
+wormed her way into high places, ousting--always in the name of
+propriety--those who had helped her. Her stepping-stone to Royal favour
+was handsome, impetuous Madame de Montespan, who, taking compassion on
+her widowed poverty, appointed Madame Scarron, as she then was,
+governess of her children, only to find her _protegee_ usurp her place
+both in the honours of the King and in the affections of their children.
+
+The natural heart rebels against the "unco guid," and Madame de
+Maintenon, with her smooth expression, double chin, sober garments and
+ever-present symbols of piety, revolts me. I know it is wrong. I know
+that historians laud her for the wholesome influence she exercised upon
+the mind of a king who had grown timorous with years; that the dying
+Queen declared that she owed the King's kindness to her during the last
+twenty years of her life entirely to Madame de Maintenon. But we know
+also that six months after the Queen's death an unwonted light showed at
+midnight in the Chapel Royal, where Madame de Maintenon--the child of a
+prison cell--was becoming the legal though unacknowledged wife of Louis
+XIV. The impassioned, uncalculating de Montespan had given the handsome
+Monarch her all without stipulation. Truly the career of Madame de
+Maintenon was a triumph of virtue over vice; and yet of all that
+heedless, wanton throng, my soul detests only her.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Where the Queen Played]
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+MARIE ANTOINETTE
+
+
+Stereotyped sights are rarely the most engrossing. At the Palace of
+Versailles the _petits appartements de la Reine_, those tiny rooms whose
+grey old-world furniture might have been in use yesterday, to me hold
+more actuality than all the regal salons in whose vast emptiness
+footsteps reverberate like echoes from the past.
+
+In the pretty sitting-room the coverings to-day are a reproduction of
+the same pale blue satin that draped the furniture in the days when
+queens preferred the snug seclusion of those dainty rooms overlooking
+the dank inner courtyard to the frigid grandeur of their State chambers.
+Therein it was that Marie Leczinska was wont to instruct her young
+daughters in the virtues as she had known them in her girlhood's
+thread-bare home, not as her residence at the profligate French Court
+had taught her to understand them.
+
+[Illustration: Marie Antoinette]
+
+The heavy gilt bolts bearing the interlaced initials M.A. remind us that
+these, too, were the favourite rooms of Marie Antoinette, and that in
+all probability the cunningly entwined bolts were the handiwork of her
+honest spouse, who wrought at his blacksmith forge below while his wife
+flirted above. But in truth the _petits appartements_ are instinct with
+memories of Marie Antoinette, and it is difficult to think of any save
+only her occupying them. The beautiful _coffre_ presented to her with
+the layette of the Dauphin still stands on a table in an adjoining
+chamber, and the paintings on its white silk casing are scarcely faded
+yet, though the decorative ruching of green silk leaves has long ago
+fallen into decay.
+
+A step farther is the little white and gold boudoir which still holds
+the mirror that gave the haughty Queen her first premonition of the
+catastrophe that awaited her. Viewed casually the triple mirror, lining
+an alcove wherein stands a couch garlanded with flowers, betrays no
+sinister qualities. But any visitor who approaches looking at his
+reflection where at the left the side panels meet the angle of the wall,
+will be greeted by a sight similar to that whose tragic suggestion made
+even the haughty Queen pause a moment in her reckless career. For in the
+innocent appearing mirrors the gazer is reflected without a head.
+
+It was through this liliputian suite, this strip of homeliness so
+artfully introduced into a palace, that Marie Antoinette fled on that
+fateful August morning when the mob of infuriated women invaded the
+Chateau.
+
+Knowing this, I was puzzling over the transparent fact that either of
+the apparent exits would have led her directly into the hands of the
+enemy, when the idea of a secret staircase suggested itself. A little
+judicious inquiry elicited the information that one did exist. "But it
+is not seen. It is locked. To view it, an order from the
+Commissary--that is necessary," explained the old guide.
+
+To know that a secret staircase, and one of such vivid historical
+importance, was at hand, and not to have seen it would have been too
+tantalising. The "Commissary" was an unknown quantity, and for a space
+it seemed as though our desire would be ungratified. Happily the
+knowledge of our interest awoke a kindly reciprocity in our guide, who,
+hurrying off, quickly returned with the venerable custodian of the key.
+A moment later, the unobtrusive panel that concealed the exit flew open
+at its touch, and the secret staircase, dark, narrow, and hoary with the
+dust of years, lay before us.
+
+[Illustration: The Secret Stair]
+
+Many must have been the romantic meetings aided by those diminutive
+steps, but, peering into their shadows, we saw nothing but a vision of
+Marie Antoinette, half clad in dishevelled wrappings of petticoat and
+shawl, flying distracted from the vengeance of the furies through the
+refuge of the low-roofed stairway.
+
+In my ingenuous youth, when studying French history, I evolved a theory
+which seemed, to myself at least, to account satisfactorily for the
+radical differences distinguishing Louis XVI. from his brothers and
+antecedents. Finding that, when a delicate infant, he had been sent to
+the country to nurse, I rushed to the conclusion that the royal infant
+had died, and that his foster-mother, fearful of the consequences, had
+substituted a child of her own in his place. The literature of the
+nursery is full of instances that seemed to suggest the probability of
+my conjecture being correct.
+
+As a youth, Louis had proved himself both awkward and clumsy. He was
+loutish, silent in company, ill at ease in his princely surroundings,
+and in all respects unlike his younger brothers. He was honest, sincere,
+pious, a faithful husband, a devoted father; amply endowed, indeed, with
+the middle-class virtues which at that period were but rarely found in
+palaces. To my childish reasoning the most convincing proof lay in his
+innate craving for physical labour; a craving that no ridicule could
+dispel.
+
+With the romantic enthusiasm of youth, I used to fancy the peasant
+mother stealing into the Palace among the spectators who daily were
+permitted to view the royal couple at dinner, and imagine her, having
+seen the King, depart glorying secretly in the strategy that had raised
+her son to so high an estate. There was another picture, in whose
+dramatic misery I used to revel. It showed the unknown mother, who had
+discovered that by her own act she had condemned her innocent son to
+suffer for the sins of past generations of royal profligates, journeying
+to Paris (in my dreams she always wore sabots and walked the entire
+distance in a state of extreme physical exhaustion) with the intention
+of preventing his execution by declaring his lowly parentage to the mob.
+The final tableau revealed her, footsore and weary, reaching within
+sight of the guillotine just in time to see the executioner holding up
+her son's severed head. I think my imaginary heroine died of a broken
+heart at this juncture, a catastrophe that would naturally account for
+her secret dying with her.
+
+[Illustration: Madame Sans Tete]
+
+During our winter stay at Versailles, my childish phantasies recurred to
+me, and I almost found them feasible. What an amazing irony of fate it
+would have shown had a son of the soil expired to expiate the crimes of
+sovereigns!
+
+But more pitiful by far than the saddest of illusions is the sordid
+reality of a scene indelibly imprinted on my mental vision. Memory takes
+me back to the twilight of a spring Sunday several years ago, when in
+the wake of a cluster of market folks we wandered into the old Cathedral
+of St. Denis. Deep in the sombre shadows of the crypt a light gleamed
+faintly through a narrow slit in the stone wall. Approaching, we looked
+into a gloomy vault wherein, just visible by the ray of a solitary
+candle, lay two zinc coffins.
+
+Earth holds no more dismal sepulchre than that dark vault, through the
+crevice in whose wall the blue-bloused marketers cast curious glances.
+Yet within these grim coffins lie two bodies with their severed heads,
+all that remains mortal of the haughty Marie Antoinette and other humble
+spouse.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Illumination]
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+THE PRISONERS RELEASED
+
+
+The first dread days, when the Boy, heavy with fever, seemed scarcely to
+realise our presence, were swiftly followed by placid hours when he lay
+and smiled in blissful content, craving nothing, now that we were all
+together again. But this state of beatitude was quickly ousted by a
+period of discontent, when the hunger fiend reigned supreme in the
+little room.
+
+"_Manger, manger, manger, tout le temps!"_ Thus the nurse epitomised the
+converse of her charges. And indeed she was right, for, from morning
+till night, the prisoners' solitary topic of conversation was food.
+During the first ten days their diet consisted solely of boiled milk,
+and as that time wore to a close the number of quarts consumed increased
+daily, until Paul, the chief porter, seemed ever ascending the little
+outside stair carrying full bottles of milk, or descending laden with
+empty ones.
+
+"Milk doesn't count. When shall we be allowed food, _real_ food?" was
+the constant cry, and their relief was abounding when, on Christmas Day,
+the doctor withdrew his prohibition, and permitted an approach to the
+desired solids. But even then the prisoners, to their loudly voiced
+disappointment, discovered that their only choice lay between vermicelli
+and tapioca, nursery dishes which at home they would have despised.
+
+"_Tapioca!_ Imagine tapioca for a Christmas dinner!" the invalids
+exclaimed with disgust. But that scorn did not prevent them devouring
+the mess and eagerly demanding more. And thereafter the saucepan
+simmering over the gas-jet in the outer room seemed ever full of savoury
+spoon-meat.
+
+I doubt if any zealous mother-bird ever had a busier time feeding her
+fledglings than had the good Sister in satisfying the appetites of these
+callow cormorants. To witness the French nun seeking to allay the hunger
+of these voracious schoolboy aliens was to picture a wren trying to fill
+the ever-gaping beaks of two young cuckoos whom an adverse fate had
+dropped into her nest.
+
+As the days wore by, the embargo placed upon our desire to cater for the
+invalids was gradually lifted, and little things such as sponge biscuits
+and pears crept in to vary the monotony of the milk diet.
+
+New Year's Day held a tangible excitement, for that morning saw a
+modified return to ordinary food, and, in place of bottles of milk,
+Paul's load consisted of such tempting selections from the school meals
+as were deemed desirable for the invalids. Poultry not being included in
+the school menus, we raided a cooked-provision shop and carried off a
+plump, well-browned chicken. The approbation which met this venture
+resulted in our supplying a succession of _poulettes_, which, at the
+invalids' express desire, were smuggled into their room under my cloak.
+Not that there was the most remote necessity for concealment, but the
+invalids, whose sole interest centred in food, laboured under the absurd
+idea that, did the authorities know they were being supplied from
+without, their regular meals would be curtailed to prevent them
+over-eating.
+
+The point of interest, for the Red-Cross prisoners at least, in our
+morning visits lay in the unveiling of the eatables we had brought.
+School food, however well arranged, is necessarily stereotyped, and the
+element of the unknown ever lurked in our packages. The sugar-sticks,
+chocolates, fruit, little cakes, or what we had chanced to bring, were
+carefully examined, criticised, and promptly devoured.
+
+A slight refreshment was served them during our short stay, and when we
+departed we left them eagerly anticipating luncheon. At gloaming, when
+we returned, it was to find them busy with half-yards of the long crusty
+loaves, plates of jelly, and tumblers, filled with milk on our Boy's
+part, and with well diluted wine on that of his fellow sufferer.
+
+Fear of starvation being momentarily averted, the Soeur used to light
+fresh candles around the tiny Holy _Bebe_ on the still green
+Christmas-tree, and for a space we sat quietly enjoying the radiance.
+But by the time the last candle had flickered out, and the glow of a
+commonplace paraffin lamp lighted the gloom, nature again demanded
+nourishment; and we bade the prisoners farewell for the night, happy in
+the knowledge that supper, sleep, and breakfast would pleasantly while
+away the hours till our return.
+
+The elder Red-Cross knight was a tall, good-looking lad of sixteen, the
+age when a boy wears painfully high collars, shaves surreptitiously--and
+unnecessarily--with his pen-knife, talks to his juniors about the
+tobacco he smokes in a week, and cherishes an undying passion for a
+maiden older than himself. He was ever an interesting study, though I do
+not think I really loved him until he confided his affairs of the heart,
+and entrusted me with the writing of his love-letters. I know that
+behind my back he invariably referred to me as "Ma"; but as he openly
+addressed the unconscious nun as "you giddy old girl," "Ma" might almost
+be termed respectful, and I think our regard was mutual.
+
+All things come to him who waits. There came a night when for the last
+time we sat together around the little tree, watching the Soeur light the
+candles that illuminated the Holy _Bebe_. On the morrow the prisoners,
+carefully disinfected, and bearing the order of their release in the
+form of a medical certificate, would be set free.
+
+It clouded our gladness to know that before the patient Sister stretched
+another period of isolation. Just that day another pupil had developed
+scarlet fever, and only awaited our boys' departure to occupy the little
+room. Hearing that this fresh prisoner lay under sentence of durance
+vile, we suggested that all the toys--chiefly remnants of shattered
+armies that, on hearing of the Boy's illness, we had brought from the
+home playroom he had outgrown--might be left for him instead of being
+sent away to be burnt.
+
+The Boy's bright face dulled. "If it had been anybody else! But, mother,
+I don't think you know that he is the one French boy we disliked. It was
+he who always shouted '_a bas les Anglais!_' in the playground."
+
+The reflection that for weary weeks this obnoxious boy would be the only
+inmate of the _boite_, as the invalids delighted to call their
+sick-room, overcame his antipathetic feeling, and he softened so far as
+to indite a polite little French note offering his late enemy his
+sympathy, and formally bequeathing to him the reversion of his toys,
+including the _arbre de Noel_ with all its decorations, except the
+little waxen Jesus nestling in the manger of yellow corn; the Soeur had
+already declared her intention of preserving that among her treasures.
+
+The time that had opened so gloomily had passed, and now that it was
+over we could look back upon many happy hours spent within the dingy
+prison walls. And our thoughts were in unison, for the Boy, abruptly
+breaking the silence, said: "And after all, it hasn't been such a bad
+time. Do you know, I really think I've rather enjoyed it!"
+
+
+
+
+L'ENVOI
+
+
+[Illustration: L'Envoi]
+
+Heavy skies lowered above us, the landscape seen through the driving
+mist-wreaths showed a depressing repetition of drabs and greys as we
+journeyed towards Calais. But, snugly ensconced in the _train rapide_,
+our hearts beat high with joy, for at last were we homeward bound. The
+weeks of exile in the stately old town had ended. For the last time the
+good Sister had lit us down the worn stone steps. As we sped seawards
+across the bleak country, our thoughts flew back to her, and to the
+little room with the red cross on its casement, wherein, although our
+prisoners were released, another term of nursing had already begun for
+her. In contrast with her life of cheerful self-abnegation, ours seemed
+selfish, meaningless, and empty.
+
+Dear nameless Sister! She had been an angel of mercy to us in a
+troublous time, and though our earthly paths may never again cross, our
+hearts will ever hold her memory sacred.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+_By the same Author_
+
+OUR STOLEN SUMMER
+
+THE RECORD OF A ROUNDABOUT TOUR
+
+BY
+
+MARY STUART BOYD
+
+WITH ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY SKETCHES BY A.S. BOYD
+
+_Extracts from Reviews_
+
+THE WORLD.--"To be able to go round the world nowadays, and write a
+descriptive record of the tour that is vivid and fresh is a positive
+literary feat. It has been successfully accomplished in _Our Stolen
+Summer_ by Mrs. Boyd, who with no ulterior object in making a book
+journeyed over four continents in company with her husband, and picked
+up _en route_ matter for one of the pleasantest, most humorous, and
+least pretentious books of travel we have read for many a day. It is
+admirably illustrated by Mr. A.S. Boyd, whose sense of humour happily
+matches that of his observant wife, and the reader who can lay aside
+this picturesque and truly delightful volume without sincere regret must
+have a dull and dreary mind."
+
+PUNCH.--"_Our Stolen Summer_ is calculated to lead to wholesale breakage
+of the Eighth Commandment. Certainly, my Baronite, reading the
+fascinating record of a roundabout tour, feels prompted to steal away.
+Mary Stuart Boyd, who pens the record, has the great advantage of the
+collaboration of A.S.B., whose signature is familiar in _Mr. Punch's_
+Picture Gallery.... A charming book."
+
+SPECTATOR.--"The writer, by the help of a ready pen and of the pencil of
+a skilful illustrator, has given us in this handsome volume a number of
+attractive pictures of distant places.... It is good to read and
+pleasant to look at."
+
+TRUTH.--"You will find no pleasanter holiday reading than _Our Stolen
+Summer_."
+
+ACADEMY.--"A fresh record, and worth the reading. Of such is Mrs. Boyd's
+volume, which her husband has illustrated profusely with spirited line
+drawings."
+
+FIELD.--"One of the brightest books of travel that it has been our good
+fortune to read. The illustrations deserve a notice to themselves. They
+are far and away better than those which we usually get in books of this
+kind, and we do not know that we can bestow higher praise on them than
+to say that they are worthy of the letterpress which they illustrate."
+
+LAND AND WATER.--"A delightful sketch of a delightful journey.... _Our
+Stolen Summer_ is a book which will be read with equal delight on a lazy
+summer holiday, or in the heart of London when the streets are enveloped
+in fog and the rain is beating against the window panes. Mr. Boyd's
+sketches are simply admirable."
+
+SPHERE.--"A delightful record of travel. Mrs. Boyd is never dull, and
+there is plenty of acute observation throughout her pleasant story of
+travel. My Boyd's illustrations which appear on practically every page,
+are, it need scarcely be said, up to the high level that is already
+familiar to students of his black-and-white work."
+
+LADIES' FIELD.--"A singularly delightful and unaffected book of travel."
+
+MADAME.--"One of the most delightful books of travel it has been our
+good fortune to read."
+
+MORNING POST.--"If the encouragement of globe-trotting be a virtuous
+action, then certainly Mrs. Stuart Boyd has deserved well of her
+country. To read her book is to conceive an insensate desire to be off
+and away on 'the long trail' at all hazards and at all costs.... Mr.
+Boyd's illustrations add greatly to the interest and charm of the book.
+There is movement, atmosphere, and sunshine in them."
+
+STANDARD.--"Mrs. Boyd went with her husband round the world, and the
+latter--an artist with a sense of humour--kept his hand in practice by
+making droll sketches of people encountered by the way, which heighten
+the charm of his wife's vivacious description of a _Stolen Summer_. Mrs.
+Boyd has quick eyes and an open mind, and writes with sense and
+sensibility."
+
+DAILY TELEGRAPH.--"It is not so much what Mrs. Boyd has to tell as the
+invariable good humour and brightness with which she records even the
+most familiar things that makes the charm of her excellent diary."
+
+DAILY CHRONICLE.--"Mrs. Boyd has written the log with sparkle and
+observation--seeing many things that the mere man-traveller would miss.
+Mr. Boyd's sketches are, of course, excellent."
+
+PALL MALL GAZETTE.--"Mrs. Boyd writes with so much buoyancy, and her
+humour is so unexpected and unfailing, that it is safe to say that there
+is not a dull page from first to last in this record of a tour round the
+world... Mr. A.S. Boyd's numerous illustrations show him at his very
+best."
+
+GLOBE.--"A work to acquire as well as to peruse."
+
+WESTMINSTER GAZETTE.--"The narrative from beginning to end does not
+contain a dull page. Of Mr. Boyd's numerous sketches it is only
+necessary to say that they are excellent. Altogether _Our Stolen Summer_
+will be found to be one of the most fascinating of recent books of
+travel."
+
+SUNDAY TIMES.--"Brilliantly and entertainingly written, and liberally
+illustrated by an acknowledged master of the art of black and white."
+
+SCOTSMAN.--"A beautiful and fascinating book.... Pen and pencil sketches
+alike have grace, nerve, and humour, and are alive with human interest
+and observation."
+
+GLASGOW HERALD.--"One of the most delightful travel-books of recent
+times.... Mrs. Boyd's volume must commend itself to people who
+contemplate visiting the other side of the globe and to all stay-at-home
+travellers as well."
+
+DAILY FREE PRESS.--"Mrs. Boyd is an admirable descriptive
+writer--observant, humorous, and sympathetic. Without illustrations,
+_Our Stolen Summer_ would be a notable addition to the literature of
+travel; with Mr. Boyd's collaboration it is almost unique."
+
+LEEDS MERCURY.--"Vivacious and diverting record."
+
+YORKSHIRE DAILY POST.--"For such a book there could be nothing but
+praise if one wrote columns about it."
+
+BIRMINGHAM DAILY POST.--"A singularly happy and interesting record of a
+most enjoyable tour."
+
+NORTHERN WHIG.--"Shrewdness of observation, with not a little humour and
+a real literary gift, mark the story of _Our Stolen Summer_."
+
+THE BOOKMAN.--"Mrs. Boyd writes with so much brightness, such vivacity
+and picturesqueness of style, that although the volume runs to close
+upon four hundred pages there is not a dull page among them. The success
+of _Our Stolen Summer_, however, is due as much to the artist as to the
+author; and praise must be equally divided. Mr. Boyd's sketches are
+spirited, clever, full of humour and sympathetic observation. Without a
+word of letter-press they would have formed an excellent travel-book;
+taken in conjunction with Mrs. Boyd's narrative they are irresistible."
+
+
+
+
+LONDON AND EDINBURGH: WILLIAM BLACKWOOD & SONS
+
+Illustrated by A.S. Boyd
+
+A LOWDEN SABBATH MORN
+
+BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON
+
+WITH TWENTY-SEVEN PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS BY A.S. BOYD
+
+_Extracts from Reviews_
+
+THE TIMES.--"The characters whom Stevenson had in his mind's eye are all
+cleverly pictured, and the drawings may be truthfully said to illustrate
+the writer's ideas--a quality that seldom resides in illustrations....
+All are faithfully presented as only one who has known them intimately
+could present them.... Mr. Boyd's talent for black-and-white work has
+never found happier expression."
+
+MORNING POST.--"It is impossible to imagine anything more likely to
+appeal to the sentiment of the Scottish people throughout the world than
+this series of pictures, instinct with the spirit of their land."
+
+DAILY TELEGRAPH.--"One of the happiest combinations of author and artist
+which has been seen of late years. Mr. Boyd has entered thoroughly into
+the spirit of the lines, and his figures are instinct with graceful
+humour."
+
+DAILY CHRONICLE.--"Mr. Boyd is to be congratulated (as R. L. S. would
+assuredly have granted) upon interpreting so vividly a notable feature
+in the national life of Scotland."
+
+ATHENAEUM.--"The task of illustrating Stevenson's verses was most
+difficult, because it demands from the artist knowledge of local
+circumstances and characteristic details. Mr. Boyd's success in making
+us see so plainly the moods and manners of the 'restin' ploughman' while
+he 'daundered' in his garden and 'raxed his limbs' is the more to be
+enjoyed and praised."
+
+PALL MALL GAZETTE.--"Followers of the master will appreciate this
+beautiful book for its accurate interpretation of the poem as well as
+for its excellent drawing."
+
+ST. JAMES'S GAZETTE.--"There is plenty of good Scotch character in the
+illustrations, and a quiet observation of the humours of a parish, with
+such annals as those recorded by Gait."
+
+ACADEMY.--"An attractive book."
+
+SATURDAY REVIEW.--"In saying therefore that Mr. Boyd's
+illustrations--there is a full page drawing for each verse--are not only
+worthy of the poem, but actually emphasise and define its merits, we
+give the book the highest possible praise. It is a volume which should
+be added to the library of every collector."
+
+SPECTATOR.--"These illustrations to Mr. Stevenson's Scots poem are
+distinctly clever, especially in their characterisation of the various
+attendants at the village kirk."
+
+SPEAKER.--"The book presents very vividly some of the aspects (both
+humorous and pathetic) of a Scottish rural lowland parish, and will
+doubtless touch a chord in the heart of Scotsmen throughout the world."
+
+OUTLOOK.--"Many of Mr. Stevenson's admirers the world over have long
+desired that such a classic poem should be faithfully and adequately
+illustrated, and they will give a hearty welcome to this most handsome
+quarto."
+
+SCOTSMAN.--"One way and another the book is wholly delightful."
+
+GLASGOW EVENING NEWS.--"Mr. Boyd's contributions to a volume which ought
+to be popular with Scots in every part of the world, are full of pawky
+humour, and their realism is so pronounced that we seem to have known
+the models in the life."
+
+DUNDEE ADVERTISER.--"This is a volume to be treasured alike for the sake
+of the poet, of the artist, and of that form of Scottish life which is
+rapidly disappearing before the march of progress."
+
+ARBROATH HERALD.--"Mr. Boyd has represented these pictures in line
+sketches, which are characterised at once by the strength and confidence
+of a masterful draughtsman and the insight of a keen observer of
+character, who has long been familiar with the types presented in
+Stevenson's poem."
+
+GOOD WORDS.--"Mr. Boyd has portrayed, with here and there a happy trait
+of grace or humour beyond the wording of the text, the very scene and
+people. Each of the illustrations has a charm and freshness of its own."
+
+ART JOURNAL.--"Mr. Boyd's knowledge of Lothian peasants and their
+manners is as complete as Stevenson's. His drawings place in pictorial
+view the poet's thoughts, while they greatly enhance the descriptions by
+emphasising what the writer rightly left vague."
+
+LONDON: CHATTO & WINDUS, III St. Martin's Lane
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's A Versailles Christmas-Tide, by Mary Stuart Boyd
+
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author	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 04:35:15 -0700
committer	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 04:35:15 -0700
commit	df55aa39c222908757f30b594fd4ac56deb10aa7 (patch)
tree	2c78c06db121453851724a697c5d27146c11172e