youth, and, at this serene close of a life of strange vicissitudes and
bitter trials, still his friends. Levasseur, his secretary, who had
accompanied him in his visit to the United States, with his German wife,
a young gentleman whose name I have forgotten, but who was the private
tutor of young Jules de Lasteyrie, and Major Frye, an English half-pay
officer, of whom I shall have a good deal more to say by-and-by,
completed the circle. We formed a long procession to the dining-room,
and I shall never forget how awkward I felt on finding myself walking,
with the General's arm in mine, at the head of it. There was a certain
air of high breeding, of respect for others founded on self-respect, and
a perfect familiarity with all the forms of society, which relieved
me from much of my embarrassment by making me feel instinctively that
nobody would take unpleasant notice of it. Still, that first dinner was
a trial to my nerves, though I do not remember that the trial interfered
with my appetite. It was served, of course, in courses, beginning with
soup and ending with fruit. Most of the dishes, as I afterwards learned,
were the produce of the farm, and they certainly bore good witness to
the farmer's judgment and skill. The General was a hearty eater, as most
Frenchmen are; but he loved to season his food with conversation, and,
much as he relished his meals, he seemed to relish the pleasant
talk between the courses still more. As I was unable to follow the
conversation of the table, I came in for a large share of the General's
attention, who would turn to me every now and then with something
pleasant to say. He had had the consideration, too, to place one of the
young ladies next to me, directly on my right, as I was on his; and her
English, though not perfectly fluent, was fluent enough to enable us to
keep up a lively interlude.

On returning to the drawing-room, the General led me up to a portrait of
my grandfather, and indulged himself for a while in endeavoring to trace