and on the back of his hands. Dieu! he is a lord who talks as if
he were too lazy to breathe. It is 'Your Lordship this' and 'Your
Lordship that.' But I must speak well of him, because he is going
to read this letter: it is on that condition I am permitted to
write. Therefore I say he is a great and good man, a beautiful
man. The baroness and Louise send love to all. Madame says do not
worry; we shall come out all right: but I say _worry_! and, good
man, do not cease to worry until we are safe home. Tell the cure
he has something to do now. I have worn out my rosary, and am
losing faith. Tell him to try his.

"Your affectionate
"LOUISON."

"She is an odd girl," said the count, as I gave back the letter,
"so full of fun, so happy, so bright, so quick--always on her
tiptoes. Come, you are tired; you have ridden far in the dust. I
shall make you glad to be here."

A groom took my horse, and the count led me down a wooded slope to
the lakeside. Octagonal water-houses, painted white, lay floating
at anchor near us. He rowed me to one of them for a bath. Inside
was a rug and a table and soap and linen. A broad panel on a side
of the floor came up as I pulled a cord, showing water clear and
luminous to the sandy lake-bottom. The glow of the noonday filled
the lake to its shores, and in a moment I clove the sunlit
depths--a rare delight after my long, hot ride.

At luncheon we talked of the war, and he made much complaint of the
Northern army, as did everybody those days.