DECEMBER 121 



monastery. And surely no monks, skilful as they were 

 in the selection of localities, ever chose a more charming 

 spot for a small villa-like residence where they could 

 retire from the austerities and the duties of the convent. 



' Situated on the heights which rise on the right bank 

 of the Loire at this point in its course, and immediately 

 over the little faubourg of Tours, St. Symphorien, it 

 commanded an extensive and beautiful view of the river, 

 the town of Tours, and the rich plains to the south 

 watered by the rivers Cher and Indre. The grounds, I 

 fancy, were in extent about five acres, but there were 

 vineyards and other appurtenances belonging to the 

 estate, though not comprised in the lease, which made an 

 almost boundless playground for children, and were so 

 varied by terraces, caves in the side of the hill, and other 

 strange incidents of site, that a great excitement was lent 

 to the games of mimic wars and surprises at which we 

 were constantly playing. There was a large tank under 

 one side of the old house you descended to it by steps 

 from the garden and armed with candles, for it was 

 pitch-dark, and provided with planks, we used to embark 

 on its water and navigate the mysterious cavern 

 an amusement that led to wet feet and friction with 

 Mrs. Hunt, the old nurse, in consequence. 



1 The front part of the house was modern ; it stood on a 

 platform raised above the large formal garden before it. 

 The boundary of the garden was a terrace-walk looking 

 down on the river and the town. There were no 

 steamers, or very few, in those days, and of course no 

 railway ; and the long strings of flat-bottomed barges with 

 their great white square sails that carried the merchandise 

 from Nantes up the river when the wind served made a 

 striking feature in the scene. 



' There was a wine-press attached to the rambling old 

 house, and the proprietor made his wine from the vine- 



