A Madame Valade and her husband. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. “You are certain of this. *** Madame la Comtesse de St Erme regarded the English major with a lacklustre eye, Gerald thought. They then took off their boots, and crept stealthily up stairs, treading upon the point of their toes so cautiously, that not a board creaked beneath their weight.
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