My husband was at home to receive his aunts, and pleased to notice how amicably we got on together, but he was not prepared for what took place shortly before their departure. One morning I was gathering strawberries in the garden, and it was slow work because they were very small, being the wild species, which had been transplanted for their delicious flavor. Aunt Susan came up, and offered to help me. Never shall I forget the scene when we both rose from the strawberry-beds, with our fragrant little baskets well filled. We turned towards the lake, whose soft, hazy glamour matched that of the tender sky; the air was still, and there reigned a serene silence, as if a single sound might have desecrated the almost religious peace of earth and heaven; yet a smothered sob was heard as I felt myself caught in a close embrace, my head laid upon a heaving bosom, my hair moist with warm tears, a broken voice murmuring: "My child, how I have wronged you!... and I love you so--" "Oh! Aunt Susan," I said, "don't cry; I will love you too; my husband will be so happy." We kissed each other, and said no more, and from that time Aunt Susan became my most faithful friend.
The farm project having been seriously considered by my father, he at last declared it too hazardous for him to undertake the direction of it. From the first he had felt unequal to it, for want of the proper knowledge and preparation; and so much would depend upon its success--the future of two families. But having had formerly a long experience in the wine trade, and being a particularly reliable authority on the qualities and values of Burgundy wines (he was able to name the _cru_--that is, the place where the grapes were cultivated--of any wine he tasted, as well as the _cuvée_, namely the year in which it had been made); and having been in his youth the representative of an important wine firm in Burgundy, he was more inclined to undertake the management of a wine business than anything else. He said so to my husband, adding that the relatives and acquaintances we had in England might form the beginning of a good connection, and that his own name as head of the firm would secure a good many customers both in France and Belgium. His son-in-law was soon convinced of the wisdom of these reasons, and it was decided that towards the end of the year we would go to France to choose a new residence, suited to the requirements of the wine business, and situated in a part sufficiently picturesque to lend itself to artistic representation. It was stipulated that the name of Hamerton should not be used; the title of the firm was to be "Gindriez et Cie.," my husband being sleeping partner only.