November — The Val Ste. V'eronique. 3 



flowed a stream, about four yards wide, whose water 

 was of the most lucid purity, and abundant even in the 

 fiercest heats of summer. The hills around were so 

 steep that they derived some sublimity from their steep- 

 ness, but they were not exceedingly lofty, the highest of 

 them not rising to more than seven hundred feet above 

 the stream's level. Entirely clothed with wood, they 

 offered an appearance of great richness, especially in the 

 golden weeks of autumn, when the little valley became, 

 for a brief season, a glorious study for a landscape- 

 painter. 



II. 



Arrival at the Val Sainte Veronique — Plans for the Employment ot 

 Time — Paternal Education — Companipnship between Father and 

 Son — Sad Associations. 



WHEN we came to the place — my boy and I — 

 after the lamentable events of the war, it had 

 not this temporary splendor, but was gray under a gray 

 and rainy sky ; and it seemed better so, more in unison 

 with the sadness of our hearts. Our first visit was to 

 the chapel, which, when we had last stayed here, my 

 wife had decorated with some delicate needle-work of 

 her own ; and here, as we knelt together, my boy and I 

 had leisure to feel both the nearness of our lost ones 

 and their remoteness. We chose two rooms that com- 

 municated with each other, and, before evening, had 

 given them an appearance of tolerable comfort. This 



