We had some people dining one night, and they couldn’t keep away from the windows.  Some of the young ones (English) wanted to go down and have a lark on the ice, but it wasn’t possible.  The crowd, though thoroughly good-humoured, merely bent on enjoying themselves, had degenerated into a rabble.  One would have been obliged to have a strong escort of police, and besides in evening dress, even with fur cloaks and the fur and woollen boots every one wore over their thin shoes, one would certainly have risked getting a bad attack of pneumonia.  One of our great friends, Sir Henry Hoare, was dining that night, but he didn’t want to go down, preferred smoking his cigar in a warm room and talking politics to W. He had been a great deal in Paris, knew everybody, and was a member of the Jockey Club.  He was much interested in French politics and au fond was very liberal, quite sympathised with W. and his friends and shared their opinions on most subjects, though as he said, “I don’t air those opinions at the Jockey Club.”  He came often to our big receptions, liked to see all the people.  He too used to tell me all that was said in his club about the Republic and the Government, but he was a shrewd observer, had been a long time an M.P. in England, and had come to the conclusion that the talk at the clubs was chiefly a “pose,”—­they didn’t really have many illusions about the restoration of the monarchy, couldn’t have, when even the Duc de Broglie with his intelligence and following (the Faubourg St. Germain followed him blindly) could do nothing but make a constitutional Republic with Marshal MacMahon at its head.

It was always said too that the women were more uncompromising than the men.  I went one afternoon to a concert at the Austrian Embassy, given in aid of some inundations, which had been a catastrophe for that country, hundreds of houses, and people and cattle swept away!  The French public had responded most generously, as they always do, to the urgent appeal made by the ambassador in the name of the Emperor, and the Government had contributed largely to the fund.  Count Beust the Austrian ambassador was obliged of course to invite the Government and Madame Grevy to the entertainment, as well as his friends of the Faubourg St. Germain.  Neither Madame nor Mademoiselle Grevy came, but some of the ministers’ wives did, and it was funny to see the ladies of society looking at the Republican ladies, as if they were denizens of a different planet, strange figures they were not accustomed to see.  It is curious to think of all that now, when relations are much less strained.  I remember not very long ago at a party at one of the embassies, seeing many of the society women having themselves presented to the wife of the then Minister of Foreign Affairs, with whom they certainly had nothing in common, neither birth, breeding, nor mode of life.  I was talking to Casimir Perier (late President of the Republic) and it amused us very much to see the various introductions