all--the old lady and the two guns--back to the house."

I was sorry to go--the old château, with its walls and towers soft and
grey in the sunlight, seems to belong absolutely to another century. I
felt as if I had been transported a hundred years back and had lived a
little of the simple patriarchal life that made such a beautiful end
to Lafayette's long and eventful career. The present owner keeps up
the traditions of his grandfather. I was thinking last night what a
cosmopolitan group we were. Three or four different nationalities,
speaking alternately the two languages--French and English--many of
the party having travelled all over the world and all interested in
politics, literature, and music; in a different way, perhaps, but
quite as much as the "belles dames et beaux esprits" of a hundred
years ago. Everything changes as time goes on (I don't know if I would
say that _everything_ improves), but I carried away the same
impression of a warm welcome and large hospitable life that every one
speaks of who saw La Grange during Lafayette's life.




IV

WINTER AT THE CHATEAU


We had a very cold winter one year--a great deal of snow, which froze
as it fell and lay a long time on the hard ground. We woke up one
morning in a perfectly still white world. It had snowed heavily during
the night, and the house was surrounded by a glistening white carpet