climbed and scrambled to the difficult work like monkeys. To our great joy, another steamer, seeing our difficulty, stayed faithfully by us in case the repairing failed. It soon did so when started again, and the friendly steamer towed us back to Southampton. Another ship was ready in the afternoon to make our voyage; but so great a gale had sprung up, my friends entreated me to wait. I was unchangeable in my decision to go on. We got as far as St. Helen's when our captain anchored, unwilling to risk the open sea in so violent a storm. I spoke with a sailor about our way, and he said a tremendous sea was farther on. Then a gentleman accustomed to yachting, expressed his uncertainty as to what we should encounter and what our ship could bear. At midnight the captain came to me in my sheltered place for ladies on deck, the rain pouring and wind howling while we consulted. Some passengers were urgent to proceed, others desired to remain in safety; I wished to go on, but thought we ought to remain longer sheltered. The captain suggested weighing anchor at two a.m., and agreeing to it, at last we set out into the open storm, which was rather diminishing, but tossed us about wildly. It was Sunday when we landed; our first start from Southampton having been on Friday, and evening came on before the railway brought me to the French town of Savigny, where my friends had come to meet me, and not finding me, had gone away. The station-master, with sup

pressed indignation, saw me arrive long after the carriage and horses had left. "Now there is nothing," was his too true account. He was no help, and taking a little handbag I walked out into the dim roads, soon finding that no one would escort me to my friend's house. Holiday makers to Paris were returning home, and all had finished their day. Seeing a man carefully carrying a baby, and his wife near, I told him my story, with an impression that he was the person for the occasion. After a while he said I could stay in their cottage if I would; and feeling quite persuaded that they were dependable people, I followed the baby and its good parents, coming into a sudden experience of French simple kindness and genuine hospitality, while we all laughed over my strange voyage, and I sought to let them feel they had a happy guest, and no foreigner to whom such life was new. Our worthy friend, M. Monod, was heartily amused next day at this kind of travelling from London to Savigny; but said, "You could have been with no better people than those at whose house you stayed last night."

Among the acquaintances whom it was a pleasure to meet in France, was the kind and gifted André family. At the hospitable house of Madame André Walther, near Paris, we found the most interesting life, charming from the liveliness of our hostess, whose unfailing vivacity at table, or in the drawingroom, in singing or conversation, was wonderful.

When the movement began amongst some Roman Catholic priests to see the errors in their Church, she gave her powerful aid on their behalf, sheltering some under her own care, and also largely aiding a friend who was devoted to their welfare, and who has stedfastly continued to help forward their

cause.

XI

USHANT, SPAIN, AND GIBRALTAR

ASTOR and Madame Berthe were a centre of

bright French life. The home of her father, the late Sir Anthony Perrier, at Brest, had attracted interesting travellers in continued succession, and here was her still beautiful mother in the midst of her children, grand-children, and friends, embodying the dignity and charm of gentle life belonging to sixty years ago, when, as a young bride, Sir Anthony took her from England to Switzerland, and to its then unfrequented valleys, in which he could scarcely find ordinary necessaries for his lovely young lady. Her fashion and manners were of that day, her commanding loving influence held all her guests, her conversation and her genial liveliness were heart-stirring. Very fair and fresh, her beautiful face lighted up with animation while entertaining her happy companies. When I joined the memorable occasions of her birthday, the dear Lady Perrier with smiling pleasure welcomed her family, took the head of her table, and was so lovely in the sunshine of old age and in her brightness of heart and mind, undimmed in intellect and social power.

It was a beautiful instance of the loveliness of such life, while very nearly approaching its boundary.

On Sunday, when not strong enough to go out, she would read the Church service to a few of us around her, devoutly repeating the prayers with deepest feeling, and with a reality and solemnity one could never forget. The same fervour pervaded her daily life, and often found expression in our times of happy intercourse. Hers was the warm true heart alive unto God, sympathizing with others around, and in all that is good.

With some degree of a traveller's enterprise, I wished to explore the little island of Ushant, having heard it was the last spot in Europe where paganism was continued, Christianity having been introduced so late even as the seventeenth century. My kind friends set the little expedition in train for me, Lady Perrier smiling over my zeal for it. The morning was calm and warm for the little voyage from the mainland; I was sitting in a summer dress under a parasol, when, quite unexpectedly, a sea broke high over our steamer, pouring down my neck and into my shoes and pocket in a most unwelcome sweep, and quite convincing me of the amazing power of opposing currents around Ushant. A sailor hastened me away to a safer place in case of a second sea rising up, and there was nothing for it but to dry in the sunshine, and be ready all the more briskly to go over the island. Landed there on its rocky wilds, I was delighted to find the islanders