And in the evening they all came. Really, you should see the pretty basket they brought for an _etrenne_. I could not guess then where they got such exquisite flowers; these lovely stephanotis blossoms, a perfect wealth of roses, and all arranged with charming taste in a quaint country basket, such as exists nowhere but in this particular section of this quaint old Normandy. In came the husband, dressed up, and frightened, but thoroughly good in his look. In came my friend; and then two sons and two wives, and three or four children: and, my dear Agnes, one of the sons, I knew him in an instant, was a man we had at Talbot Court House when your husband was there. I think the Colonel will remember him,--a black-whiskered man, who used to sing a little song about _le vin rouge_ of Bourgogne. He did not remember me; that I saw in a moment. It was all so different, you know. In the hospital, I had on my cap and apron, and here,--well, it was another thing. My hostess knew that they were coming, and had me in her largest room, and I succeeded in making them all sit down; and I received my formal welcome; and I thanked in my most Parisian French; and then the conversation hung fire. But I took my turn now, and turned round to poor Louis. "You served in America, did you not?" said I. "Ah, yes, madame! I did not know my mother had told you." No more did she, indeed; and she looked astonished. But I persevered,-- "You seem strong and well." "Ah, yes, madame!" "How long since you returned?" "As soon as there was peace, madame. We were mustered out in June, madame." "And does your arm never trouble you?" "Oh, never, madame! I did not know my mother had told you." New astonishment on the part of the mother. "You never had another piece of bone come out?" "Oh, no, madame! how did madame know? I did not know my mother had told you!" And by this time I could not help saying, "You Normans care more for Christmas than we Americans; is it not so, my brave?" And this he would not stand; and he said stoutly, "Ah, no, madame! no, no, _jamais_!" and began an eager defence of the religious enthusiasm of the Americans, and their goodness to all people who were good, if people would only be good. But still he had not the least dream who I was. And I said,-- "Do the Normans ever drink Burgundy?" and to my old hostess, "Madame, could you bring us a flask _du vin rouge de Bourgogne_?" and then I hummed his little chanson, I am sure Colonel Barthow will remember it,--"_Deux--gouttes--du vin rouge du Bourgogne._"