often.  He was a charming, easy talker.  I never tired of hearing about the brilliant days of the last Empire, and the fetes at the Tuileries, Compiegne, and St. Cloud.  He had been a great deal at the court of Napoleon III, had seen many interesting people of all kinds, and had a wonderful memory.  He must have had an inner sense or presentiment of some kind about the future, for I have heard him say often in speaking of the old days and the glories of the Empire, when everything seemed so prosperous and brilliant, that he used often to ask himself if it could be real—­Were the foundations as solid as they seemed!  He had been a diplomatist, was in Germany at the time of the Franco-German War, and like so many of his colleagues scattered over Germany, was quite aware of the growing hostile feeling in Germany to France and also of Bismarck’s aims and ambitions.  He (like so many others) wrote repeated letters and warnings to the French Foreign Office, which apparently had no effect.  One heard afterward that several letters of that description from French diplomatists in Germany were found unopened in a drawer at the ministry.

It was rather sad, as we drove through the stately alleys of the Park of St. Cloud, with the setting sun shining through the fine old trees, to hear of all the fetes that used to take place there,—­and one could quite well fancy the beautiful Empress appearing at the end of one of the long avenues, followed by a brilliant suite of ladies and ecuyers,—­and the echoes of the cor de chasse in the distance.  The alleys are always there, and fairly well kept, but very few people or carriages pass.  The park is deserted.  I don’t think the cor de chasse would awaken an echo or a regret even, so entirely has the Empire and its glories become a thing of the past.  A rendezvous de chasse was a very pretty sight.

We went once to Compiegne before I was married, about three years before the war.  We went out and breakfasted at Compiegne with a great friend of ours, M. de St. M., a chamberlain or equerry of the Emperor.  We breakfasted in a funny old-fashioned little hotel (with a very good cuisine) and drove in a big open break to the forest.  There were a great many people riding, driving, and walking, officers of the garrison in uniform, members of the hunt in green and gold, and a fair sprinkling of red coats.  The Empress looked charming, dressed always in the uniform of the hunt, green with gold braid, and a tricorne on her head,—­all her ladies with the same dress, which was very becoming.  One of the most striking-looking of her ladies was the Princess Anna Murat, the present Duchesse de Mouchy, who looked very handsome in the tricorne and beautifully fitting habit.  I didn’t see the Empress on her horse, as we lost sight of them very soon.  She and her ladies arrived on the field in an open break.  I saw the Emperor quite distinctly as he rode up and gave some orders.  He was very well mounted (there were some beautiful horses) but stooped slightly, and had rather a sad face.  I never saw him again, and the Empress only long years after at Cowes, when everything had gone out of her life.