since that I hardly remember my first impression.  It was a corner room, high ceiling, big windows, and fine tapestries on the walls; some of them with a pink ground (very unusual), and much envied and admired by all art collectors.  Mme. A. told me she found them all rolled up in a bundle in the garret when she married.  A tea-table was standing before the sofa, and various people working and having their tea.  We were not a large party—­Comte and Comtesse de B. (she a daughter of the house) and three or four men, deputies and senators, all political.  They counted eight guns.  We sat there about half an hour, then there was a general move, and young Mme. A. showed us our rooms, which were most comfortable, fires burning, lamps lighted.  She told us dinner was at 7.30; the first bell would ring at seven.  I was the only lady besides the family.  I told my maid to ask some of the others what their mistresses were going to wear.  She said ordinary evening dress, with natural flowers in their hair, and that I would receive a small bouquet, which I did, only as I never wear anything in my hair, I put them on my corsage, which did just as well.

The dinner was pleasant, the dining-room a fine, large hall (had been stables) with a fireplace at each end, and big windows giving on the court-yard.  It was so large that the dinner table (we were fourteen) seemed lost in space.  The talk was almost exclusively political and amusing enough.  All the men were, or had been, deputies, and every possible question was discussed.  Mme. A. was charming, very intelligent, and animated, having lived all her life with clever people, and having taken part in all the changes that France has gone through in the last fifty years.  She had been a widow for about two years when I first stayed there, and it was pretty to see her children with her.  Her two sons, one married, the other a young officer, were so respectful and fond of their mother, and her daughter perfectly devoted to her.

The men all went off to smoke after coffee, and we women were left to ourselves for quite a long time.  The three ladies all had work—­knitting or crochet—­and were making little garments, brassieres, and petticoats for all the village children.  They were quite surprised that I had nothing and said they would teach me to crochet.  The evening was not very long after the men came back.  Some remained in the billiard-room, which opens out of the salon, and played cochonnet, a favourite French game.  We heard violent discussions as to the placing of the balls, and some one asked for a yard measure, to be quite sure the count was correct.  Before we broke up M. A. announced the programme for the next day.  Breakfast for all the men at eight o’clock in the dining-room, and an immediate start for the woods; luncheon at the Pavilion d’Hiver at twelve in the woods, the ladies invited to join the shooters and follow one or two battues afterward.  It was a clear, cold night, and there seemed every prospect of a beautiful day for the battues.