country have very little conception of.

Every one rose at his own hour, and was master of his time till eleven.
If he wanted an early breakfast, he could have a cup of coffee
or chocolate or milk in his room for the asking. But the family
breakfast-hour was at eleven, a true French breakfast, and attended with
all the forms of dinner except in dress. The castle-bell was rung; the
household collected in the parlor; and all descended in one order to the
dining-room. It was pleasant to see this morning gathering. The General
was almost always among the first to come in and take his stand by
the fireplace, with a cordial greeting for each guest in turn. As his
grandchildren entered, they went up to offer their morning salutations
to him first of all, and there was the paternal kiss on the forehead and
a pleasant word for each. His son and daughters generally saw him in his
own room before they came down.

Breakfast was a cheerful meal, served in courses like dinner, and
seasoned with conversation, in which every one was free to take a part
or listen, as he felt disposed. There was no hurry, no confusion about
it; all sat down and rose at the same time; and as every one that worked
at all had evidently done part of his day's work before he came to
table, all came with good appetites. Then came the family walk, all
starting out in a group, but always sure to break up into smaller groups
as they went on: the natural law of affinities never failing to make
itself felt, and they who found most pleasure in each other's society
generally ending their walk together. Sometimes the General would come a
little way with us, but soon turned off to the farm, or dropped behind
and went back to his books and letters. An hour in the grounds passed
quickly,--too quickly, I often used to think; and then, unless, as
occasionally happened, there was an excursion on foot which all were