fails you. Her originality frequently leads her beyond conventionality;
for instance, the other day she took it into her head to dine out of
doors. If she wanted to picnic _al fresco_, why did she not choose some
pretty place in the park or in the woods? But no, she had the usual
elaborate dinner served directly outside the chateau, and on the gravel
walk. The servants, powdered and in short breeches as usual, served us in
their customary solemnity; but they must have wondered why we preferred to
sit on the gravel, with a draught of cold air on our backs, when we might
have been comfortably seated in a big and airy room with a carpet under
our feet. However, such was the wish of the chatelaine, and no one dared
say a word, not even the Duke, though he protested meekly.

Later on the Duke had his revenge, for in the midst of our breezy repast
there came a downpour of rain, accompanied by lightning and peals of
thunder, which necessitated a hasty retreat.

The Duchess, who is very timid in thunder-storms, was the first to rush
into the house, the guests following pell-mell, and our dinner was
finished indoors.

After our return to Petit Val we had the visit of Auber's protege, a young
man called Massenet. One day, in Paris, two months ago, Auber said to me:

"I am very much interested in a former pupil of the Conservatoire who took
the Grand-Prix de Rome, and has just come back from his four years'
musical studies in Rome. As he is more or less a stranger in Paris, I
should be very thankful if you would interest yourself for him. He really
is a genius; but, as so often happens, geniuses don't have pocket-money."

I answered: "Please tell him to come and see me. I have some music I wish