She woke up the next morning to the country pleasures of Villa Beau-sejour, a preposterous chateau-villa it might be, but attached to a charming Flemish farm; with cows and pigs, geese and ducks, plump poultry and white pigeons, with clumps of poplars and copses of hawthorns and wild cherry trees which joined the little domain on to the splendid forest of Tervueren.

There were the friendly, super-intelligent big dogs, like bastard St.Bernards or mastiffs in breed, that drew the little carts which carried the produce of the farm to the markets or to Brussels.

There were cheery Flemish farm servants and buxom dairy or poultry women, their wives; none of them particularly aware that there was anything discreditable about Madame Varennes.

They may have vaguely remembered she had once lived under High protection, but that, if anything, added to her prestige in their eyes.

She was an English lady who for purposes of business and may be of _la haute politique_ chose to live in Belgium.