My gloominess had construed the sighing of the wind among the foliage into a presage of rain and storm. Neither came; and the next morning I was awakened by the sun streaming full in my face, the carol of birds innumerable, and the soft, balmy, yet fresh air of a most lovely morning. As our mess-breakfast was not very early, I jumped up determined on a thorough examination of the whole village, in hopes of finding something better than the Petit chateau. After looking into several, all equally miserable, I found the one where I ought to have begun, the only one habitable. It was only across the road, shut in by high walls, overtopped by acacias. This house had escaped the observation of others as it had mine; and, strange to say, had scarcely been visited by the spoiler. All the windows were perfect, and the only injury visible on the premises was the breaking to pieces of a number of paltry plaster Cupidons and their pedestals, that had erst disfigured the garden. I took possession immediately, and here I sit in my cabinet about to give a description of it. The house is tall and narrow--four storeys counting the ground-floor to the front, and three towards the garden, which is higher than the court. The ground-floor consists of stables, wood-houses, &c., opening on this court, which is planted with acacias and shut in from the village by a high wall with great close gates. On the next (or garden ground-floor), is the only decent-sized room in the whole house: all the rest are divided into those useless little cabinets of which the French seem so fond, many of them with glass doors. All the rooms have the abominable brick or tile floors so common here: however, all the windows are sound, which is the grand object. I have chosen the floor above the garden--that is, third from the court--where I have a narrow slip, with glass door at one end and window at the other, the view from which certainly does not rival that at Colombes, for it is bounded by the four high walls of my garden; another piece, with a recess in it, serves me for a bedroom, and into these two I have collected all the furniture remaining in the house, which is but little, and that of the meanest description--a few clumsy, old-fashioned chairs, and a table or two. One of the former is a curious article: the seat lifts up, and behold a _bidet_; the top of the thick back has two or three little boxes in it for holding soap or what not. My three domestics occupy the floor below me, and are next the animals. The garden, which rises in a gentle slope from the house, is a long narrow strip, neatly laid out and abundantly stocked with flowers, vegetables, and fine fruit--particularly grapes, plums, and peaches, &c. The whole is the property of two old maids, Les Demoiselles Delcambre, Marchandes des Modes, who, on the approach of the Allies, removed all the furniture worth removal, and left the place in charge of an old Flemish servant--a virgin, like themselves. Mademoiselle Rose, as