pilgrimages; morning, noon, and night, carriages rolled over the road to it. A new ordeal awaited Franklin which, perhaps, he would have tried to avoid had he known to what he was to be subjected. The Countess d'Houdetot was a character. She attracted marked attention by her peculiar actions in public. She often dressed in man's attire, wore her hair cropped short, and rode a horse astride, à la cavalier. Despite all this, she was frank and easy in her manner, honest and sincere in her speech, not inclined to backbiting or gossip, and, if the women did not love her, the men admired her, and with this she was satisfied. She had met Franklin and Frances at the dinner given by the Count de Chaumont. On her return home, she thought deeply as to how she could utilize this American celebrity so as to add glory to Sanoy and prestige to her own name. She decided upon a grand fête champêtre. Franklin soon received an invitation from her to spend a day at Sanoy. The invitation was not limited to himself. "Bring whom you will," she said, "but surely do not forget that pretty niece of yours. You will find our chateau large and our hospitality unbounded." The count's daughter and Frances had become close friends and almost inseparable companions. They formed excellent foils for each other, the blonde beauty of the Kentucky girl and the rich brunette coloring of the Parisian maiden comprehending the gamut, or rather the extremes, of feminine loveliness. Franklin told the two young ladies about the invitation, and they gladly acceded to his desire that they should accompany him. "Our carriage will hold four," said Mlle. de Passy. "It will not look well with a vacant seat." "Will not your father go?" asked Franklin. When importuned, the count replied that it would be impossible. "I have an appointment for that day with Monsieur de Sartine, the Minister of Marine. Jones has kept his word and taken possession of that French ship. Monsieur de Sartine has been notified and, knowing my relations with Jones, holds me accountable. I do not know how I shall be able to arange matters, but I shall rely upon my usual good fortune." Then, as a sudden thought struck him, he asked: "Why not invite Madame Helvetius?" "We will drive over to Auteuil this afternoon," said Mlle. de Passy. "She will be a most agreeable compagnon du voyage. I know Doctor Franklin will be delighted with her." "I certainly shall," said the philosopher. "She is wealthy, she is witty, she is a widow, and she does not wish to marry again. I shall feel perfectly safe in her company." THE CHAPTER XII UNE FÊTE CHAMPÊTRE HE sun had shed its effulgence over beautiful Sanoy. It was the morning of the day which had been set apart for the reception of the great philosopher who, as the Countess d'Houdetot told her relatives and friends, was "the glory of America and the wonder of the world." She had arisen early, and, with an army of servants obedient to her slightest wish, had placed the chateau in readiness for the reception of the distinguished visitor. Couriers, mounted upon fleet steeds, sped along the road towards Passy, their instructions being to bring word of Franklin's approach to the countess. A score or more of grooms in the d'Houdetot livery clung to the bridles of as many handsome horses who champed their bits and showed their desire that their riders should mount and be off. A courier, covered with dust, his horse flecked with foam, brought word that the state carriage of the Count de Chaumont was within a mile of the gateway. Then a bugle sounded "to horse!" and a few minutes later, a calvacade of gayly dressed ladies and gentlemen swept through the gateway and rode towards Passy, the Countess d'Houdetot in the lead. She was not handsome. Her complexion was coarse and marked with the ineffaceable traces left by smallpox. She had round eyes and was very near-sighted, but she was of noble blood, had married a count, and Jean Jacques Rousseau had been enamored of her. Half a mile from Sanoy, the cavalcade and the carriage met. The gay riders ranged themselves on both sides of the vehicle, dismounted, and the triumphal procession moved on slowly to Sanoy. When the carriage containing Franklin and those whom he had invited reached the chateau, the countess alighted, opened the door with her own hand, and assisted the philosopher to descend. Her son, the viscount, offered the same courtesy to Mme. Helvetius, Frances and Mlle. de Passy, who were, in turn, warmly welcomed by the countess. It soon became apparent that the reception was to be a formal and not an informal one-that a programme had been arranged by the countess and that it was her intention to have it carried out to the letter. A roll of parchment was handed to her by her private secretary. She opened it and, after bowing low before the man whom they all wished to honor, read the following lines: Oh, Liberty, whose throne afar Amidst the gods shines like a star, Than Franklin, whom we welcome here. There were some marked contrasts presented by the company gathered there. The gentlemen of the party were dressed in the height of the prevailing French fashion, and there, before them, staff in hand, stood an old man, dressed in a plain suit of brown cloth, with his long white hair falling carelessly upon his back and shoulders. A quaint little semi-circular cap, made of the finest fur, fitted close to the top of his head. Resting upon his nose were a pair of spectacles in huge horn frames, the glasses being divided laterally in the centre, so that by looking through the upper part he could see at a distance, his vision through the lower part enabling him to read and write. The ladies of the party, including Mme. Helvetius, wore those towering head-dresses-those gorgeous coiffures which were the rage in Paris at the time. They were works of art, and when once completed by the head-dresser, condemned the wearer to a week of discomforting suspense lest it might be disarranged and she become unpresentable to society. Upon the front of one, the artist had depicted the allegory representing the contest between England and America. Another was surmounted by a mill,-the miller was driving some cattle, while an abbé was paying court, apparently, to the miller's wife. A third represented a hunter firing at a bird in the air, while a dog stood ready to seize it when it fell. A fourth represented Pomona, and the coiffure bore a sheaf of wheat and a horn of plenty, from which streamed figs, grapes, melons, and other fruits. Simplicity itself and beauty unadorned were represented by Frances and Mlle. de Passy, the fair waving hair of one and the raven locks of the other being arranged with true democratic severity. The countess led the way to the reception room where each of the company was presented by name to Franklin. Franklin was used to the society of his fellow-men and women. He had experienced, during his long life, both admiration and animadversion, but, fortunately, |