I had a good many visits and flowers on New Year’s day—­which was an agreeable surprise—­Lord Lyons, Orloff, the Sibberns, Comte de Sigur, M. Alfred Andre, and others.  Andre, an old friend of W.’s, a very conservative Protestant banker, was very blue about affairs.  Andre was the type of the modern French Protestant.  They are almost a separate class in France—­are very earnest, religious, honourable, narrow-minded people.  They give a great deal in charity and good works of all kinds.  In Paris the Protestant coterie is very rich.  They associate with all the Catholics, as many of them entertain a great deal, but they live among themselves and never intermarry.  I hardly know a case where a French Protestant has married a Catholic.  I suppose it is a remnant of their old Huguenot blood, and the memories of all their forefathers suffered for their religion, which makes them so intolerant.  The ambassadors had paid their usual official visit to the Elysee—­said Grevy was very smiling and amiable, didn’t seem at all preoccupied.  We had a family dinner at my uncle’s on New Year’s night, and all the family with wonderful unanimity said the best wish they could make for W. was that 1880 would see him out of politics and leading an independent if less interesting life.

An interesting life it certainly was, hearing so many questions discussed, seeing all sorts of people of all nationalities and living as it were behind the scenes.  The Chamber of Deputies in itself was a study, with its astounding changes of opinion, with no apparent cause.  One never knew in the morning what the afternoon’s session would bring, for as soon as the Republican party felt themselves firmly established, they began to quarrel among themselves.  I went back to the ministry one afternoon to pay a formal visit to Madame de Freycinet on her reception day.  I had rather put it off, thinking that the sight of the well-known rooms and faces would be disagreeable to me and make me regret, perhaps, the past, but I felt already that all that old life was over—­one adapts one’s self so quickly to different surroundings.  It did seem funny to be announced by my own special huissier, Gerard, and to find myself sitting in the green drawing-room with all the palms and flowers arranged just as they always were for me, and a semicircle of diplomats saying exactly the same things to Madame de Freycinet that they had said to me a few days before, but I fancy that always happens in these days of democracy and equalising education, and that under certain circumstances, we all say and do exactly the same thing.  I had quite a talk with Sibbern, the Swedish minister, who was very friendly and sympathetic, not only at our leaving the Foreign Office, but at the extreme discomfort of moving in such frightfully cold weather.  He was wrapped in furs, as if he were going to the North Pole.  However, I assured him we were quite warm and comfortable, gradually settling down into our old ways, and I was already looking back on my two