slept that night at this place. The next morning brought a letter from Madame C., inviting me to join her at the sea-coast, arranging all for my coming, and appointing, as my companion, the very dearest of all handsome and graceful boys, Adolpho S., twelve years old, Madame C.'s eldest grandson.
We set off. It was an arduous journey in the commencement, through a perfect wilderness; over stocks and stones; then in a boat, drawn by men along a narrow stream, almost choked up with reeds and different kinds of water-plants. It was horribly wearisome and horribly hot. My little, dark-eyed Cabellero, the sweet lad, encouraged and comforted me: “It will soon be better,” said he, “we have got over the worst now! We shall very soon come into more open water!” The amiable little fellow was really a refreshment to me on this part of the journey, which occupied three mortal hours; the water after that, expanded into a little river, and we felt the breezes from the sea. At the outlet of the little river into the sea a few small birch-bark huts, regular fishers' huts stood upon the bare turf; here dwelt the aristocratic family, and lived a kind of field-life for some weeks for the sake of the bathing.
Madame C. had just now returned from the bath. How handsome and charming she appeared as she advanced towards me in her long white costume, with her mild, pale countenance, her noble bearing, her beautiful manner. She seemed to be between fifty and sixty, and the most refined womanly grace was impressed on face and form. Around the beautiful lady stood two young, tall, handsome men, her two youngest sons, Alfred and Sidney S., and a handsome Spanish lady, the wife of the eldest, and their six children, four boys and two girls, all handsome; and in the outskirts of this beautiful group, negro men, and women, and dogs.
A cottage on the other side of the little river, and
