standing about, and people waiting in the big drawing-room to speak to W. The living-rooms up-stairs were ghastly—­looked bare and uncomfortable in the highest degree.  They were large and high and looked down upon the garden, though that on a bleak December day was not very cheerful—­but there were possibilities.  Kruft was very sympathetic, understood quite well how I felt, and was ready to do anything in the way of stoves, baths, wardrobes in the lingerie, new carpets, and curtains, that I wanted.  Pontecoulant too was eminently practical, and I was quite amused to find myself discussing lingeries and bathrooms with a total stranger whom I had only seen twice in my life.  It took me about a week to get really settled.  I went over every day, returning to my own house to eat and sleep.  Kruft did wonders; the place was quite transformed when I finally moved over.  The rooms looked very bright and comfortable when we arrived in the afternoon of the 31st of December (New Year’s eve).  The little end salon, which I made my boudoir, was hung with blue satin; my piano, screens, and little things were very well placed—­plenty of palms and flowers, bright fires everywhere—­the bedrooms, nursery, and lingeries clean and bright.  My bedroom opened on a large salon, where I received usually, keeping my boudoir for ourselves and our intimate friends.  My special huissier, Gerard, who sat all day outside of the salon door, was presented to me, and instantly became a most useful and important member of the household—­never forgot a name or a face, remembered what cards and notes I had received, whether the notes were answered, or the bills paid, knew almost all my wardrobe, would bring me down a coat or a wrap if I wanted one suddenly down-stairs.  I had frequent consultations with Pontecoulant and Kruft to regulate all the details of the various services before we were quite settled.  We took over all our own servants and found many others who were on the permanent staff of the ministry, footmen, huissiers, and odd men who attended to all the fires, opened and shut all the doors, windows, and shutters.  It was rather difficult to organise the regular working service, there was such rivalry between our own personal servants and the men who belonged to the house, but after a little while things went pretty smoothly.  W. dined out the first night we slept at the Quai d’Orsay, and about an hour after we had arrived, while I was still walking about in my hat and coat, feeling very strange in the big, high rooms, I was told that the lampiste was waiting my orders (a few lamps had been lit in some of the rooms).  I didn’t quite know what orders to give, hadn’t mastered yet the number that would be required; but I sent for him, said I should be alone for dinner, perhaps one or two lamps in the dining-room and small salon would be enough.  He evidently thought that was not at all sufficient, wanted something more precise, so I said to light as he had been accustomed to when