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at last； and he was gratified with his success。 As my explosion generally occurred about five minutes afterwards； Monsieur Vincent failed to connect cause and effect。 When we parted he gave me a neatly bound copy of La Bruyere as a prize … for his own proficiency； I presume。 Many a pleasant half…hour have I since spent with the witty classic。
Except the controversial harangues of the zealot Auguste； my religious teaching was neglected on week days。 On Sundays； if fine； I was taken to a Protestant church in Paris； not infrequently to the Embassy。 I did not enjoy this at all。 I could have done very well without it。 I liked the drive； which took about an hour each way。 Occasionally Aglae and I went in the Bourg…la…Reine coucou。 But Mr。 Ellice had arranged that a carriage should be hired for me。 Probably he was not unmindful of the convenience of the old ladies。 They were not。 The carriage was always filled。 Even Mademoiselle Henriette managed to go sometimes … aided by a little patent medicine； and when it was too hot for the chauffrette。 If she was unable； a friend in the neighbourhood was offered a seat； and I had to sit bodkin； or on Mademoiselle Aglae's lap。 I hated the 'friend'； for； secretly； I felt the carriage was mine； though of course I never had the bad taste to say so。
They went to Mass； and I was allowed to go with them； in addition to my church； as a special favour。 I liked the music； the display of candles； the smell of the incense； and the dresses of the priests； and wondered whether when undressed … unrobed； that is … they were funny old gentlemen like Monsieur le Cure at Larue； and took such a prodigious quantity of snuff up their noses and under their finger… nails。 The ladies did a good deal of shopping； and we finished off at the Flower Market by the Madeleine； where I； through the agency of Mademoiselle Aglae； bought plants for 'Maman。' This gave 'Maman' UN PLAISIR INOUI； and me too； for the dear old lady always presented me with a stick of barley… sugar in return。 As I never possessed a sou （Miss Aglae kept account of all my expenses and disbursements） I was strongly in favour of buying plants for 'Maman。'
I loved the garden。 It was such a beautiful garden； so beautifully kept by Monsieur Benoit； and withered old Mere Michele； who did the weeding and helped Rose once a week in the laundry。 There were such pretty trellises； covered with roses and clematis； such masses of bright flowers and sweet mignonette； such tidy gravel walks and clipped box edges； such floods of sunshine； so many butterflies and lizards basking in it； the birds singing with excess of joy。 I used to fancy they sang in gratitude to the dear old Marquise； who never forgot them in the winter snows。
What a quaint but charming picture she was amidst this quietude； … she who had lived through the Reign of Terror： her mob cap； garden apron； and big gloves； a trowel in one hand； a watering…pot in the other； potting and unpotting； so busy； seemingly so happy。 She loved to have me with her； and let me do the watering。 What a pleasure that was！ The scores of little jets from the perforated rose； the gushing sound； the freshness and the sparkle； the gratitude of the plants； to say nothing of one's own wet legs。 'Maman' did not approve of my watering my own legs。 But if the watering… pot was too big for me how could I help it？ By and by a small one painted red within and green outside was discovered in Bourg…la…Reine； and I was happy ever afterwards。
Much of my time was spent with the children and nurses of the family which occupied the chateau。 The costume of the head nurse with her high Normandy cap （would that I had a female pen for details） invariably suggested to me that she would make any English showman's fortune； if he could only exhibit her stuffed。 At the cottage they called her 'La Grosse Normande。' Not knowing her by any other name； I always so addressed her。 She was not very quick…witted； but I think she a little resented my familiarity； and retaliated by comparisons between her compatriots and mine； always in a tone derogatory to the latter。 She informed me as a matter of history； patent to all nurses； that the English race were notoriously bow…legged； and that this was due to the vicious practice of allowing children to use their legs before the gristle had become bone。 Being of an inquiring turn of mind； I listened with awe to this physiological revelation； and with chastened and depressed spirits made a mental note of our national calamity。 Privately I fancied that the mottled and spasmodic legs of Achille … whom she carried in her arms … or at least so much of the infant Pelides' legs as were not enveloped in a napkin； gave every promise of refuting her generalisation。
One of my amusements was to set brick traps for small birds。 At Holkham in the winter time； by baiting with a few grains of corn； I and my brothers used； in this way； to capture robins； hedge…sparrows； and tits。 Not far from the chateau was a large osier bed； resorted to by flocks of the common sparrow。 Here I set my traps。 But it being summer time； and （as I complained when twitted with want of success） French birds being too stupid to know what the traps were for； I never caught a feather。 Now this osier bed was a favourite game covert for the sportsmen of the chateau； and what was my delight and astonishment when one morning I found a dead hare with its head under the fallen brick of my trap。 How triumphantly I dragged it home； and showed it to Rose and Auguste； … who more than the rest had 'mocked themselves' of my traps； and then carried it in my arms； all bloody as it was （I could not make out how both its hind legs were broken） into the salon to show it to the old Marquise。 Mademoiselle Henriette； who was there； gave a little scream （for effect） at sight of the blood。 Everybody was pleased。 But when I overheard Rose's SOTTO VOCE to the Marquise： 'Comme ils sont gentils！' I indignantly retorted that 'it wasn't kind of the hare at all： it was entirely due to my skill in setting the traps。 They would catch anything that put its head into them。 Just you try。'
How severe are the shocks of early disillusionment！ It was not until long after the hare was skinned； roasted； served as CIVET and as PUREE that I discovered the truth。 I was not at all grateful to the gentlemen of the chateau whose dupe I had been； was even wrath with my dear old 'Maman' for treating them with extra courtesy for their kindness to her PETIT CHERI。
That was a happy summer。 After it was ended； and it was time for me to return to England and begin my education for the Navy I never again set eyes on Larue； or that charming nest of old ladies who had done their utmost to spoil me。 Many and many a time have I been to Paris； but nothing could tempt me to visit Larue。 So it is with me。 Often have I questioned the truth of the NESSUN MAGGIOR DOLORE than the memory of happy times in the midst of sorry ones。 The thought of happiness； it would seem； should surely make us happier； and yet … not of happiness for ever los