"It hath not changed in the least," said my mother; "only the trees are grown and the old chestnut is away. What hath become of it?"
"It blew down a few years since in a great storm," answered Andrew. "I made a cabinet and table of the wood, which are now in the house."
"Have you any of the chestnuts we brought from the Tour d'Antin?" asked my mother, turning to me. "If so, you might plant two or three here."
"I have them, but I fear they are too dry to grow," said I. "However, it can do no harm to try."
(Two of them did grow, and are now fine bearing trees.)
"See, there is the holy well, under the arch yonder," said my mother. "I wonder do the village maids come on St. John's even to drop needles into it that they may dream of their sweethearts?"
"Yes indeed; and the water is still sought for baptisms, under the notion that no person christened with that water will ever be hanged," said Andrew. "See, Vevette, there is my fairy housekeeper."
A fairy indeed she looked. I never saw so small a person not to be a dwarf, yet she was perfectly well proportioned and very upright. Her hair, a little touched with silver, was black as a crow's wing, and her eyebrows the same. On the whole, she was a very handsome little creature, yet there was something about her so different from the country people among whom she lived that I did not wonder to hear that they regarded her as something not quite human. She made us welcome with great politeness, and I could but notice how well she spoke English. Andrew explained our errand.
"We shall give you some trouble, I fear," said my mother.
"Not at all, madame. It is a pleasure to me, and you are come in good time, for I have just been opening and airing the house." And indeed we had observed the open windows as we came up.