SOCIAL LIFE 195 



broader, deeper, and swifter, and swirled formidably 

 in places, requiring much caution in the boatmen ; 

 the evening closed in while we had still some way 

 to go. It was not altogether pleasant, as the punt was 

 not particularly "stiff,"' the navigation was difficult, 

 and it was becoming very dark. At length the 

 welcome bridge which betokened our destination 

 loomed high in front. The party from Millau had 

 been there awaiting me till dark, and then left. I 

 was fortunate in securing a trap, wherein to drive 

 the few miles that then separated me from them. 



We all went together the next day to Montpelier 

 le Vieux, so called because its rocks look from a distance 

 like the turrets of a weird city on a hilltop. Each rock 

 stands by itself on a carpet of green verdure. Crowds 

 of legends have, of course, clustered round this strange 

 locality. Anyhow, it is an ideal place for a picnic in 

 which to spend the long hours of a sunny day. The 

 whole of the south-west corner of France is full of 

 interest, and the part just mentioned seems quite 

 unique. 



I wish I could more adequately and yet appro- 

 priately have expressed my affectionate feelings 

 towards the many friends to whom I have made too 

 scanty reference in this chapter. 



During the year that followed the death of my 

 wife in 1897, I made a tour with one of her nephews, 

 a Frank Butler, son of Spencer P. Butler. He be- 

 came engaged to an English lady, a niece of Mrs. 

 MacLennan, while we were touring in Corsica with 

 her party, and married shortly after. Henceforward 

 a niece, Miss Evelyne Biggs, or more strictly speaking 

 a grandniece of my own, granddaughter of my sister 



