would naturally be more correct in his attitude and conversation.  I think the American nationality is the most convenient in the world.  The Americans do just as they like, and no one is ever surprised.  The explanation is quite simple:  “They are Americans.”  I have often noticed little faults of manners or breeding, which would shock one in a representative of an older civilisation, pass quite unnoticed, or merely provoke a smile of amusement.

We drove about a great deal—­the country at the back of Deauville, going away from the sea, is lovely—­very like England—­charming narrow roads with high banks and hedges on each side—­big trees with spreading branches meeting overhead—­stretches of green fields with cows grazing placidly and horses and colts gambolling about.  It is a great grazing and breeding country.  There are many haras (breeding stables) in the neighbourhood, and the big Norman posters are much in demand.  I have friends who never take their horses to the country.  They hire for the season a pair of strong Norman horses that go all day up and down hill at the same regular pace and who get over a vast amount of country.  We stopped once or twice when we were a large party, two or three carriages, and had tea at one of the numerous farmhouses that were scattered about.  Boiling water was a difficulty—­milk, cider, good bread and butter, cheese we could always find—­sometimes a galette, but a kettle and boiling water were entirely out of their habits.  They used to boil the water in a large black pot, and take it out with a big spoon.  However, it amused us, and the water really did boil.

We had an Italian friend, Count A., who went with us sometimes, and he was very debrouillard, made himself delightful at once to the fermiere and got whatever he wanted—­chairs and tables set out on the grass, with all the cows and colts and chickens walking about quite undisturbed by the unusual sights and sounds.  It was all very rustic and a delightful change from the glories of the exposition and official life.  It amused me perfectly to see W. with a straw hat, sitting on a rather rickety three-legged stool, eating bread and butter and jam.  Once or twice some of W.’s secretaries came down with despatches, and he had a good morning’s work, but on the whole the month passed lazily and pleasantly.

We went back to Paris about the 10th of September, and remained there until the end of the exposition.  Paris was again crowded with foreigners—­the month of October was beautiful, bright and warm, and the afternoons at the exposition were delightful at the end of the day, when the crowd had dispersed a little and the last rays of the setting sun lingered on the Meudon Hills and the river.  The buildings and costumes lost their tawdry look, and one saw only a mass of moving colour, which seemed to soften and lose itself in the evening shadows.  There were various closing entertainments.  The marshal gave a splendid fete at Versailles.  We drove out and