Every one rose at his own hour, and was master of his time till eleven.  If he wanted an early breakfast, he could have a cup of coffee or chocolate or milk in his room for the asking.  But the family breakfast-hour was at eleven, a true French breakfast, and attended with all the forms of dinner except in dress.  The castle-bell was rung; the household collected in the parlor; and all descended in one order to the dining-room.  It was pleasant to see this morning gathering.  The General was almost always among the first to come in and take his stand by the fireplace, with a cordial greeting for each guest in turn.  As his grandchildren entered, they went up to offer their morning salutations to him first of all, and there was the paternal kiss on the forehead and a pleasant word for each.  His son and daughters generally saw him in his own room before they came down.

Breakfast was a cheerful meal, served in courses like dinner, and seasoned with conversation, in which every one was free to take a part or listen, as he felt disposed.  There was no hurry, no confusion about it; all sat down and rose at the same time; and as every one that worked at all had evidently done part of his day’s work before he came to table, all came with good appetites.  Then came the family walk, all starting out in a group, but always sure to break up into smaller groups as they went on:  the natural law of affinities never failing to make itself felt, and they who found most pleasure in each other’s society generally ending their walk together.  Sometimes the General would come a little way with us, but soon turned off to the farm, or dropped behind and went back to his books and letters.  An hour in the grounds passed quickly,—­too quickly, I often used to think; and then, unless, as occasionally happened, there was an excursion on foot which all were to take part in, the members of the family withdrew to their own apartments, and the guests were left free to fill up the time till dinner as they chose.  With books, papers, and visits from room to room, or strolls about the grounds, the hours never lagged; and much as one day seemed like another, there was always something of its own to remember it by.  Of course, this regularity was not the result of chance.  Behind the visible curtain was the invisible spirit guiding and directing all.  It was no easy task to provide abundantly, and yet judiciously, for a family always large, but which might at any moment be almost doubled without an hour’s notice.  The farm, as I have already said, furnished a full proportion of the daily supplies, and the General was the farmer.  But the daily task of distribution and arrangement fell to the young ladies, each of whom took her week of housekeeping in turn.  The very first morning I was admitted behind the scenes.  “If you want anything before breakfast,” said one of the young ladies, as the evening circle was breaking up, “come down into the butler’s room and get it.”  And to the butler’s