We got to the château at last;--you always do, in the end, and there were the fine Court birds just leaving the table, so the dessert we brought came in at the right moment. Down they sat and began all over again; you never saw such birds for eating; and now we made a brilliant entrance, for our delegation had halted outside the gates to put on their carefully folded robes, which they had been sitting on all the way to keep them from fading. The Mayor’s was of bright green silk, and the others woolen of a light yellow, so that they looked like a cucumber and four pumpkins as we marched into the courtyard to the sound of our instruments. Every window in the castle was filled with heads at our approach, and our courtly guests deigned to show themselves in the doorway, all curled and beribboned, as the green and yellow Mayor and Council mounted the great staircase. We smaller fry, musicians and others, stayed behind in the yard, so that I could not hear very clearly the fine Latin discourse delivered by our notary; which mattered the less, as I do believe Master Pierre himself was the only one who did hear it. But the one thing I would not have missed for a kingdom was the sight of my darling Glodie stepping carefully upward with the basket piled high with cakes clasped tight in her little arms. She was like pictures of the Presentation. Sweetheart! I longed to hug her! Music is not the only thing which charms all heart; childhood has a spell even stronger and more universal, which causes the proudest to forget for the moment rank and dignity. Mademoiselle de Termes could not help smiling at Glodie, then she took her up on her knees and kissed her, and finally broke one of the famous cakes in two, ate half herself, and as she said laughing, “Open your little beak, birdie,” stuck the other half into the child’s rosy mouth. “Hurrah for the Flower of Nevers!” I shouted, and then played a gay little phrase on my flute, which sounded like the note of a swallow. This made every one laugh, and as they all looked to see who was playing Glodie clapped her hands and said, “That is my Grandad.” And so Monsieur d’Asnois made a sign to me to come up, and said to those about him, “You really ought to see Breugnon, he is just the least bit cracked.” (I am no more cracked than he is, but I went up as I was bid, with a fine bow to the company.)