From Dunstable I rolled away into a crescendo of similar impressions.  There are certainly few things to be compared with these castles, or rather country seats, of the English nobility and gentry; nor anything at all to equal the servility of the population that dwells in their neighbourhood.  Though I was but driving in a hired chaise, word of my destination seemed to have gone abroad, and the women curtseyed and the men louted to me by the wayside.  As I came near, I began to appreciate the roots of this widespread respect.  The look of my uncle’s park wall, even from the outside, had something of a princely character; and when I came in view of the house itself, a sort of madness of vicarious vain-glory struck me dumb and kept me staring.  It was about the size of the Tuileries.  It faced due north; and the last rays of the sun, that was setting like a red-hot shot amidst a tumultuous gathering of snow clouds, were reflected on the endless rows of windows.  A portico of Doric columns adorned the front, and would have done honour to a temple.  The servant who received me at the door was civil to a fault—­I had almost said, to offence; and the hall to which he admitted me through a pair of glass doors was warmed and already partly lighted by a liberal chimney heaped with the roots of beeches.

‘Vicomte Anne de St. Yves,’ said I, in answer to the man’s question; whereupon he bowed before me lower still, and stepping upon one side introduced me to the truly awful presence of the major-domo.  I have seen many dignitaries in my time, but none who quite equalled this eminent being; who was good enough to answer to the unassuming name of Dawson.  From him I learned that my uncle was extremely low, a doctor in close attendance, Mr. Romaine expected at any moment, and that my cousin, the Vicomte de St. Yves, had been sent for the same morning.

‘It was a sudden seizure, then?’ I asked.

Well, he would scarcely go as far as that.  It was a decline, a fading away, sir; but he was certainly took bad the day before, had sent for Mr. Romaine, and the major-domo had taken it on himself a little later to send word to the Viscount.  ’It seemed to me, my lord,’ said he, ’as if this was a time when all the fambly should be called together.’

I approved him with my lips, but not in my heart.  Dawson was plainly in the interests of my cousin.

‘And when can I expect to see my great-uncle, the Count?’ said I.

In the evening, I was told; in the meantime he would show me to my room, which had been long prepared for me, and I should be expected to dine in about an hour with the doctor, if my lordship had no objections.

My lordship had not the faintest.

‘At the same time,’ I said, ’I have had an accident:  I have unhappily lost my baggage, and am here in what I stand in.  I don’t know if the doctor be a formalist, but it is quite impossible I should appear at table as I ought.’