Supper was a serious preoccupation for the young secretaries of the ministry, who had much difficulty in keeping that room private.  Long before the supper hour some enterprising spirits had discovered that the royalties were to sup in that room, and finding the secretaries quite inaccessible to any suggestions of “people who had a right to come in”—­presidents of commissions and various other distinctions—­had recourse to the servants, and various gold pieces circulated, which, however, did not accomplish their object.  The secretaries said that they had more trouble with the chamberlains of the various princes than with the princes themselves; they all wanted to sup in the private room, and were much more tenacious of having a good place, or the place they thought was due to them, than their royal masters.  The supper was very gay—­the Prince of Wales (the late King Edward) perfectly charming—­talking to every one, remembering every one with that extraordinary gracious manner which made him friends in all classes.  Immediately after supper the princes and distinguished strangers and W. departed.  I remained about an hour longer and went to have a look at the ballroom.  It was still crowded, people dancing hard, and when finally about two o’clock I retreated to my own quarters, I went to sleep to the sound of waltzes and dance music played by the two orchestras.  The revelry continued pretty well all through the night.  Whenever I woke I heard strains of music.  Supper went on till seven in the morning.  Our faithful Kruft told us that there was absolutely nothing left on the tables, and they had almost to force the people out, telling them that an invitation to a ball did not usually extend to breakfast the next morning.

There was a grand official closing of the exposition at the end of November, with a distribution of prizes—­the city still very full and very gay—­escorts and uniforms in every direction—­the Champs-Elysees brilliant with soldiers—­equipages of all descriptions, and all the afternoon a crowd of people sitting under the trees, much interested in all that was going on, particularly when carriages would pass with people in foreign and striking costumes.  The Chinese always wore their costume; the big yellow birds of paradise became quite a feature of the afternoon defile.  An Indian princess too, dressed entirely in white—­a soft clinging material, with a white veil, not over her face, and held in place by a gold band going around the head—­was always much admired.  Every now and then there would be a great clatter of trotting-horses and jingling sabres, when an escort of dragoons would pass, escorting some foreign prince to the Elysee to pay his formal visit to the marshal.  Everybody looked gay—­French people so dearly love a show—­and it was amusing to see the interest every one took in the steady stream of people, from the fashionable woman driving to the Bois in her victoria to the workmen, who would stand in groups on the corners of the streets—­some