“In appearance, certainly, and in reality also; in proof of which you may see at Rheims some dating from the fifteenth century, and which are perfectly well preserved.”

“And how are these hangings made?”

“Canvas cloths are taken, either cross-woven or twilled, of coarse texture, manufactured for the purpose, rather like the cloths of which sacks are made. These cloths are stretched on a floor with tacks; then they size them, that is to say, give them a coating of leather size, to which is added a little Spanish white. Then when this coat is dry they proceed to paint them in distemper, as for theatre decorations. On this ground anything we choose can be painted—diapers, such as we have adopted here, and which do not cost much, as we stencil them; or ornaments, landscapes, flowers, and even figures. The cost of the material is trifling, and the value of the hangings depends on the artist’s work. When dry, the cloths are rolled up, and can be sent anywhere at small expense; then on the spot they are stretched again on very thin frames, called tapestry stretchers. There is, therefore, a space between the wall and the hanging, which is necessary in the country where sized papers always spoil; and this is so much the more convenient, as if the rooms are not warmed in winter, and if damp is feared, the cloths can be taken down, rolled up, and put in a dry place, to be replaced in the spring, as we do with tapestry.”

“I thought when I opened the drawing-room door that it was tapestry.”

“The coarse texture of the cloth does in fact resemble the tapestry stitch, and the painting in distemper has the flat tone of wool. On the whole, the hangings of our house scarcely cost more than the high-priced papers that are made now-a-days, and they last longer, to say nothing of our being sure not to see our own patterns on everybody’s walls.”

“Very true; often on going into a drawing-room I have recognized a paper which I had seen elsewhere. But tell me, cousin, you have had lightning-conductors put up, have you not?”

“Certainly; it was prudent to do so. I have had two constructed: one at the top of the staircase, and the other on the centre-point of the main-ridge.”

“Would not one have been enough?”

“I think not; because lightning-conductors only protect the points inclosed in a cone of which they are the summit: at least, this is the recognized theory. For between ourselves, physicists are not quite agreed respecting the effects of the electric fluid, the relative efficiency of conductors, and the precautions to be used in putting them up. I rely on my own experience, which has proved to me that no building, however exposed, has been struck by lightning when the lightning-rods were numerous, made of good conductors, put in communication with each other, and with their lower extremity dipping in water, or very damp earth. You know that water is a conductor of electricity; if the lightning-rod terminates in dry earth the electricity accumulates, and produces return shocks, which are very dangerous. The same effect results if the conducting-wire is interrupted; the lightning-rod then produces the effect of a Leyden jar—it becomes charged, and is more dangerous than useful. Sockets with glass insulators have also been recommended; but I have never observed that lightning-conductors otherwise well arranged caused accidents for want of insulators. I consider this precaution superfluous, because the fluid seeks the most direct path. The rod properly arranged is that path; so it should not make rapid angular turns, but as far as possible be conducted by the shortest way, and that which is nearest the vertical, into the damp soil.”

At dinner nothing was talked about but the new house and Madame Marie’s arrival. There was a lively discussion about the way of making the surprise complete. The ceremonial, to which M. de Gandelau had given some thought, was soon arranged. The contractors and craftsmen of the neighbourhood who had worked at the house were invited, and a dinner was to be provided for them in the garden. The gentleman who had given Paul lessons, the mayor, the curé of the parish, and some neighbours and friends, among others M. Durosay, who had again made his appearance in the neighbourhood, were asked to be present at the house-warming. The workmen had not been forgotten—they were all to receive some gratuity. There was to be a ball in the new park for all the country people, with the customary refreshments; and in the morning the poor of the parish were to receive gratuities in kind.