carriage (a half-grown omnibus with the jaundice) mounted, the farewell bows and adieux received, and forth rumbled the duchesses en route for Blois.
"My heart is rent at leaving that lovely château" said Mat, as they crossed the bridge.
"I mourn the earth-worms, the cacti, and the tireless 'gossoon,'" added Amanda, who appreciated French cookery and had enjoyed confidences with Adolphe.
"The cats, the cats, the cats! I could die happy if I had one," murmured Lavinia; and with these laments they left the town behind them.
Any thing hotter than Blois, with its half dried-up river, dusty boulevards, and baked streets, can hardly be imagined. But these indomitable women "did" the church and the castle without flinching. The former was pronounced a failure, but the latter was entirely satisfactory. The Emperor was having it restored in the most splendid manner. The interior seemed rather fresh and gay when contrasted with the time-worn exterior, but the stamped leathern hangings, tiled floors, emblazoned beams, and carved fireplaces, were quite correct. Dragons and crowns, porcupines and salamanders, monograms and flowers,
