Oh, I wish we were back on the _Sauterelle!_--which reminds me I have never told you anything about Trouville. The whole place was full of such beautiful ladies, and such nice clothes. They must all have been married, their things were so becoming. The Vicomte seemed to know them well, and they all spoke of them by their Christian names, such as, _Voilà Blanche d'Antin!_ or _Emilie_ something else, as we passed them, but none of our party bowed to the really pretty ones, which I thought very queer if they knew them well enough to speak of them by their Christian names. I remember you always told me never to do that--I mean to use people's first names in speaking of them if you are not acquainted with them--but evidently it is different here. The Tournelles and all the others did stop to speak to heaps of duller looking people, and every one tried to persuade us to stay and go to the races. We went to the Casino in the evening and saw a piece; it was boring. We had two boxes, and they kept talking to me all the time, so I really could not pay much attention to the acting. Down below us was the Marquise de Vermandoise's brother-in-law, with a rather dowdy little woman. They talked a great deal about him, and the Marquise said it was just like his economy to go to Trouville with such "une espèce de petite fagottée bon marché." So I suppose it was some poor relation he was treating, but they seemed very good friends, as he held her hand all the time, quite forgetting the people up above could see. Then we played "Petits Chevaux," and I won every time; I do like it very much. [Sidenote: _A Bathing Party_] We came back to Vinant by the two o'clock train, but first we went to bathe. I was really annoyed at having to have a hired dress, a frightful thing, and weighing a ton. The Marquise and the others had brought theirs on the chance of our having time for a dip. The Baronne's and Héloise's were too sweet. The Baronne's cap had the same kind of lovely little curls round it that she wears at night; but she is a great coward, and hardly went in deeper than her ankles, in spite of all the entreaties of "Antoine" and the Vicomte. The Marquise de Vermandoise looks splendid in the water, just like a goddess, and her bathing-dress was thin enough red silk for us to see how beautifully she is made. The splashing about seemed to make her so gay, she kept putting her tongue into the gap where her tooth is gone, and looked so wicked they would all have swam anywhere after her. She and de Tournelle went out a long way to a boat, and they did seem to be having a good time. I wish I could swim like that.