"She answered with a little, 'Ah!' That was all.
"Her silence proved clearly that she knew nothing and did not understand, so to relieve her embarrassment he said to her,
"'Perhaps you are tired?'
"'No, no, on the contrary!'
"And, with her chin raised, casting the vaguest of glances around her, Rosanette uttered this remark:
"'That brings back memories!'
"There could be perceived on her countenance, however, an effort, an intention of respect...
"That brings back memories." Rosanette does not know exactly what they are. But her formula translates—and with what sincerity!—the charm of old châteaux and old gardens about which floats the odor of past centuries. She "yawns immoderately" while breathing this vague perfume, because she is unfamiliar with literature. Nevertheless, she instinctively feels and respects the melancholy and distinguished reveries of those who know the history of France. And besides, if these latter in their turn desired to express the pleasure which they feel in visiting historic places, I would defy them to find any other words than those which Rosanette herself uses.
This pleasure is one of the most lively which can be felt by a loiterer who loves the past, but whose listless imagination requires, to set it in motion, the vision of old architecture and the suggestion of landscapes. It is also one of those which can most easily be experienced. The soil of France is so impregnated with history! Everywhere, "that brings back memories."
It is, therefore, to seek "memories" that I visited Maintenon and its park on a clear and limpid October afternoon. I had previously read once more the correspondence of Madame de Maintenon and run through a few letters of Madame de Sévigné. My memory is somewhat less untrained than that of Rosanette. But, nevertheless, I am startled, on the day when I wish to learn again, to perceive how many things I have unlearned, if I ever knew them.