came expecting something unusual; and they found their expectations
surpassed when, behind a bower of flowers, they saw these catacombs
full of old things, piled up as Sommerard used to pile them--that "Old
Mortality" of furniture. And then these finds served as so many
springs which, turned on by a question, played off an essay on Jean
Goujon, Michel Columb, Germain Pilon, Boulle, Van Huysum, and Boucher,
the great native painter of Le Berry; on Clodion, the carver of wood,
on Venetian mirrors, on Brustolone, an Italian tenor who was the
Michael-Angelo of boxwood and holm oak; on the thirteenth, fourteenth,
fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries, on the glazes of
Bernard de Palissy, the enamels of Petitot, the engravings of Albrecht
Durer--whom she called Dur; on illuminations on vellum, on Gothic
architecture, early decorated, flamboyant and pure--enough to turn an
old man's brain and fire a young man with enthusiasm.

Madame de la Baudraye, possessed with the idea of waking up Sancerre,
tried to form a so-called literary circle. The Presiding Judge,
Monsieur Boirouge, who happened to have a house and garden on his
hands, part of the Popinot-Chandier property, favored the notion of
this _coterie_. The wily Judge talked over the rules of the society
with Madame de la Baudraye; he proposed to figure as one of the
founders, and to let the house for fifteen years to the literary club.
By the time it had existed a year the members were playing dominoes,
billiards, and bouillotte, and drinking mulled wine, punch, and
liqueurs. A few elegant little suppers were then given, and some
masked balls during the Carnival. As to literature--there were the
newspapers. Politics and business were discussed. Monsieur de la
Baudraye was constantly there--on his wife's account, as she said
jestingly.