were doing their morning reading. There were also the two little girls
building castles out of a heap of sand, and with them the most hideous
German maid you ever saw. They are queer-looking little monkeys,
Yolande is like Jean, but Marie--there are three years between them--is
as black as ink--but where was I? Oh, yes!--well, by this time I was so
hungry I could have eaten them, German _bonne_ and all! Fortunately
Godmamma turned up, and we strolled back to _déjeûner_. Héloise was in
the salon, and she is charming, such a contrast to the rest of the
party. She was beautifully dressed and so _chic_. We took to each
other at once, she has not picked up that solid married look like Jean,
so perhaps it is only the husbands who get it in France.

There was a good deal of ceremony going in to breakfast. Jean gave his
mother his arm, and we trotted behind. The dining-room is a perfect
room, except there is no carpet, and the food was lovely, only I do
hate to see a great hand covered with a white cotton glove, plopping a
dish down on the lighted thing in the middle, so that one has to look
at the next course all the time one is finishing the last one. The way
in which the two little monkeys and the German maid devoured their
breakfast quite took one's appetite away. There seemed to be numbers of
men-servants, who wore white cotton gloves, and their liveries buttoned
up to the throat, which takes away that nice clean-shirt-look of our
servants at home.

[Sidenote: _French Servants_]

This afternoon we are going to pay a visit of ceremony to the Comte and
Comtesse de Tournelle; we are going with them on their yacht down the
Seine to-morrow. It is Jean and Héloise who have arranged to take
me--it is kind of them, and it will be fun; and I am glad it is not