The road was so bad that it took two hours to cover the eight miles.  The two horses sank knee-deep into the mud and stumbled into ditches; sometimes they had to jump over them.  In certain places, Liebard’s mare stopped abruptly.  He waited patiently till she started again, and talked of the people whose estates bordered the road, adding his own moral reflections to the outline of their histories.  Thus, when they were passing through Toucques, and came to some windows draped with nasturtiums, he shrugged his shoulders and said:  “There’s a woman, Madame Lehoussais, who, instead of taking a young man—­” Felicite could not catch what followed; the horses began to trot, the donkey to gallop, and they turned into a lane; then a gate swung open, two farm-hands appeared and they all dismounted at the very threshold of the farm-house.

Mother Liebard, when she caught sight of her mistress, was lavish with joyful demonstrations.  She got up a lunch which comprised a leg of mutton, tripe, sausages, a chicken fricassee, sweet cider, a fruit tart and some preserved prunes; then to all this the good woman added polite remarks about Madame, who appeared to be in better health, Mademoiselle, who had grown to be “superb,” and Paul, who had become singularly sturdy; she spoke also of their deceased grandparents, whom the Liebards had known, for they had been in the service of the family for several generations.

Like its owners, the farm had an ancient appearance.  The beams of the ceiling were mouldy, the walls black with smoke and the windows grey with dust.  The oak sideboard was filled with all sorts of utensils, plates, pitchers, tin bowls, wolf-traps.  The children laughed when they saw a huge syringe.  There was not a tree in the yard that did not have mushrooms growing around its foot, or a bunch of mistletoe hanging in its branches.  Several of the trees had been blown down, but they had started to grow in the middle and all were laden with quantities of apples.  The thatched roofs, which were of unequal thickness, looked like brown velvet and could resist the fiercest gales.  But the wagon-shed was fast crumbling to ruins.  Madame Aubain said that she would attend to it, and then gave orders to have the horses saddled.

It took another thirty minutes to reach Trouville.  The little caravan dismounted in order to pass Les Ecores, a cliff that overhangs the bay, and a few minutes later, at the end of the dock, they entered the yard of the Golden Lamb, an inn kept by Mother David.

During the first few days, Virginia felt stronger, owing to the change of air and the action of the sea-baths.  She took them in her little chemise, as she had no bathing suit, and afterwards her nurse dressed her in the cabin of a customs officer, which was used for that purpose by other bathers.

In the afternoon, they would take the donkey and go to the Roches-Noires, near Hennequeville.  The path led at first through undulating grounds, and thence to a plateau, where pastures and tilled fields alternated.  At the edge of the road, mingling with the brambles, grew holly bushes, and here and there stood large dead trees whose branches traced zigzags upon the blue sky.