If for hunting you’ve a liking, you can don a costume striking,
  And proceed to chase the fox. 
  Or if you’re fond of driving, perhaps by some contriving
  You may mount a coach’s box. 
  If picnics are your pleasure, you can go to them at leisure,
  And lunch on sumptuous fare,
  And though maybe, perforce, you’ll get lamb without mint
    sauce. 
  They never starve you there. 
  And always you will say, that you’ve enjoyed your stay,
  And never in your life I’m very sure will you repent
  The time in Pension Colbert’s walls and well-trimm’d
    garden spent.

As Mrs. and Miss Blunt and Mr. Sydney had definitely decided to spend the time at Biarritz while I stayed at Bigorre, I turned my attention to discovering if any other acquaintances were proceeding in the same direction as myself.  In this I was successful, and in company with Mr. H——­ and his two daughters, and Mrs. Willesden and Miss Leonards, bade “au revoir” to Pau, with the prospect of a long spell of beautiful scenery if the clerk of the weather could only be controlled, by longings and hopes.

CHAPTER II.

BAGNERES DE BIGORRE.

Backward Spring—­Hotel Beau Sejour—­Effect of the war of ’70 on the English Colony—­The “Coustous”—­The Church of St. Vincent—­ Geruzet’s Marble Works—­Donkeys—­Up the Monne—­Bains de Sante—­ Bains de Grand Pre—­Salut Avenue and Baths—­“Ai-ue, Ai-ue”—­ Luncheon—­Daffodils—­The Summit and the View—­The “Castle-Mouly”—­ The Tapere—­Mde.  Cottin—­Mont Bedat—­Gentians—­The Croix de Manse—­ “The Lady’s Farewell to her Asinine Steed”—­Market-day—­The Old Iron and Shoe Dealers—­Sunday—­A Cat Fight—­The English Church—­To the Col d’Aspin—­“The Abbe’s Song”—­Baudean—­Campan, its People and Church—­Wayside Chapels—­Ste. Marie—­The route to Gripp, &c.—­ Payole—­The Pine Forest—­The Col d’Aspin—­The View from the Monne Rouge—­“The Plaint of the Weather-beaten Pine”—­The Menu at Payole —­Hurrah for the Milk!—­Departures—­Divine Music—­Aste—­Gabrielle d’Estrelle—­The Ivied Ruins—­The Church—­Pitton de Tournefort—­ Gerde—­The Pigeon Traps—­The Cattle Market—­The Jacobin Tower—­ Theatre—­Grand Etablissement des Thermes—­Hospice Civil—­Eglise des Carmes—­Mount Olivet—­Madame Cheval, her Cakes and Tea—­Bigorre in Tears.

We had a bright day for our journey to Bigorre, and the country looked pretty, though very backward for April, but this was owing to the late frosts, which had been felt everywhere.  Bigorre itself was no exception, and instead of all the charms of spring ready to welcome us, the leaves were only just taking courage to unfurl.  Our first impressions were consequently anything but favourable, though our comfortable quarters in the Hotel Beau Sejour compensated us to a certain degree.  To the French and Spaniards, Bigorre is only a summer resort, but as it is considered to possess a very mild climate, many English reside there all the year round.  In fact, before the war of 1870 there was quite an English colony there, but the chance of a Prussian advance dispersed it, and many were the hardships endured by some of those who had stayed to the last moment, in their endeavours to reach the coast.