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Updated: May 13, 2025
In it is a ponderous oak table pierced with a multitude of worm eaten tunnels, also three mighty high backed chairs, an old oak desk covered still with papers, arras on the walls, and three dark religious oil paintings, and a grandfathers clock: it is at about the middle of the château, and contains two small, but deep, three faced oriels, in each face four compartments with white stone shafts between, these looking south upon shrubs and the rocky edge of the island, then upon the deep blue lake, then upon another tiny island containing four trees in a jungle of flowers, then upon the shore of the lake interrupted by the mouths of a river which turned out to be the Rhone, then upon a white town on the slopes which turned out to be Villeneuve, then upon the great mountains back of Bouveret and St.
For the rest, Montreux offers to the novelist's hand perhaps the crude American of the station who says it is the cheapest place he has struck, and he is going to stick it out there awhile; perhaps the group of chattering American school-girls; perhaps the little Jewish water-color painter who tells of his narrow escape from the mad dog, which having broken his chain at Bouveret, had bitten six persons on the way to Clarens, and been killed by the gendarmes near Vevay; perhaps two Englishwomen who talk for half an hour about their rooms at the hotel, and are presently joined by their husbands, who pursue the subject.
At both ends are suites, mostly small rooms, infinitely quaint and cosy, furnished with heavy Henri Quatre furniture and bed draperies; and there are separate, and as it were secret, spiral stairs for exit to each: so we decided that she should have the suite overlooking the length of the lake, the mouths of the Rhone, Bouveret and Villeneuve; and I should have that overlooking the spit of land behind and the little drawbridge, shore cliffs, and elmwood which comes down to the shore, giving at one point a glimpse of the diminutive hamlet of Chillon; and, that decided, I took her hand in mine, and I said: 'Well, then, here we stay, both under the same roof for the first time.
At this place fishing, and long rambles, were the order of the day, both for her and for me, especially fishing, though a week rarely passed which did not find me at Bouveret, St.
But there was a second station, the Gare des Vollondes, at the opposite end of the city, from which ran the short line to Bouveret on the south shore of the lake, and I sent Falloon there to inquire, giving him a rendezvous an hour later at the Café de la Couronne on the Quai du Lac.
Indeed, the process of filling up still continues unabated at the present day where the mud-laden Rhone enters the lake at Bouveret, to leave it again, clear and blue and beautiful, under the bridge at Geneva. The little delta which the river forms at its mouth shows the fresh mud in sheets gathering thick upon the bottom.
They soon reached Bouveret, where the Rhone enters the Lake of Geneva. On leaving this town they diverged from the lake, and their weariness increased amid these mountain districts. Vionnaz, Chesset, Collombay, half lost villages, were soon left behind.
"Come, come, Antoine," broke in the conductor, determined to give him a lead, "you must know that; there are not so many. It would be about 2 P.M., wouldn't it, when the express boat comes from Vevey and Bouveret?" "Yes, I make no doubt of that," said the man, with a gleam of intelligence upon his stolid face. "And the ladies went on board it, you say? Yes? You are sure?"
Born in Graz-Styria. Pupil of Professor W. von Lindenschmit in Munich, of M. Dagnan Bouveret and M. Courtois in Paris. Her picture, "A Parting," is in the Liverpool Gallery; "Childhood's Wonder," in the Nottingham Gallery; "Aucassin and Nicolette," in the Pittsburg Gallery, etc. Mrs. Stokes writes me that she has taken great interest in the revival of tempera painting in recent years.
'I haven't brought much, he said, 'I left pretty near everything in Paris. 'You have brought a world. Then after a moment, 'Did you do that? I asked, nodding towards a canvas tacked against the wall. It was the head of a half-veiled Arab woman turned away. The picture was in the turning away, and the shadow the head-covering made over the cheek and lips. 'Lord, no! That's Dagnan Bouveret.
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