We had a cheery tea.  W. and Mme. de Courval had made a long “tournee,” and W. quite approved of all the changes and new acquisitions she had made, particularly the little Breton cows.  We left rather hurriedly as we had just time to catch our train.

Our last glimpse of the chateau as we looked back from the turn in the avenue was charming; there were lights in almost all the windows, which were reflected in the moat; the moon was rising over the woods at the back, and every tower and cornice of the enormous pile stood out sharply in the cold clear light.

* * * * *

We didn’t move often once we were settled in the chateau for the autumn.  It was very difficult to get W. away from his books and coins and his woods; but occasionally a shooting party tempted him.  We went sometimes, about the Toussaint when the leaves were nearly fallen, to stay with friends who had a fine chateau and estate about three hours by rail from Paris, in the midst of the great plains of the Aube.  The first time we went, soon after my marriage, I was rather doubtful as to how I should like it.  I had never stayed in a French country house and imagined it would be very stiff and formal; however, the invitation was for three days—­two days of shooting and one of rest—­and I thought that I could get through without being too homesick.

We arrived about 4.30 for tea; the journey from Paris was through just the same uninteresting country one always sees when leaving by the Gare de l’Est.  I think it is the ugliest sortie of all Paris.  As we got near the chateau the Seine appeared, winding in and out of the meadows in very leisurely fashion.  We just saw the house from the train, standing rather low.  The station is at the park gates—­in fact, the railway and the canal run through the property.  Two carriages were waiting (we were not the only guests), and a covered cart for the maids and baggage.  A short drive through a fine avenue of big trees skirting broad lawns brought us to the house, which looked very imposing with its long facade and rows of lighted windows.  We drove through arcades covered with ivy into a very large court-yard, the chateau stables and communs taking three sides.  There was a piece d’eau at one end, a colombier at the other.  There was no perron or stately entrance; in one corner a covered porch, rather like what one sees in England, shut in with glass door and windows and filled with plants, a good many chrysanthemums, which made a great mass of colour.  The hall doors were wide open as the carriage drove up, Monsieur A. and his wife waiting for us just inside, Mme. A. his mother, the mistress of the chateau, at the door of the salon.  We went into a large, high hall, well lighted, a bright fire burning, plenty of servants.  It looked most cheerful and comfortable on a dark November afternoon.  We left our wraps in the hall, and went straight into the drawing-room.  I have been there so often