We dined often with M.L., W.’s uncle, who kept us au courant of all (and it was little) that was going on in the Royalist camp, but that was not of importance.  The advanced Republicans were having it all their own way, and it was evident that the days of conciliatory measures and moderate men were over.  W. was not a club man, went very rarely to his club, but his uncle went every afternoon before dinner, and gave us all the potins (gossip) of that world, very hostile to the Republic, and still quite believing that their turn would come.  His uncle was not of that opinion.  He was a very clever man, a diplomatist who had lived in a great many places and known a great many people, and was entirely on the Royalist side, but he thought their cause was a lost one, at least for a time.  He often asked some of his friends to meet us at dinner, said it was a good thing for W. to hear what men on the other side thought, and W. was quite pleased to meet them.  They were all absolutely opposed to him in politics, and discussion sometimes ran high, but there was never anything personal—­all were men of the world, had seen many changes in France in their lives; many had played a part in politics under the former regimes.  It seemed to me that they underrated the intelligence and the strength of the Republican party.

One of the regular habitues was the Marquis de N., a charming man, fairly broad-minded (given the atmosphere he lived in) and sceptical to the highest degree.  He was a great friend of Marshal MacMahon, and had been prefet at Pau, where he had a great position.  He was very dictatorial, very outspoken, but was a great favourite, particularly with the English colony, which is large there in the hunting-season.  He had accepted to dine one night with an English family, who lived in a villa a little out of town.  They had an accident en route, which delayed them very much, and when he and the marquise arrived the party was at table.  He instantly had his carriage called back and left the house in spite of all the explanations and apologies of his host, saying that when “one had the honour of receiving the Marquis de N. one waited dinner for him.”

We saw always a great deal of him, as his daughter married the Comte de F., who was for some time in W.’s cabinet at the Quai d’Orsay, and afterward with us the ten years we were at the London Embassy, where they were quite part of the family.  They were both perfectly fitted for diplomatic life, particularly in England.  Both spoke English well, knew everybody, and remembered all the faces and all the names, no easy thing in England, where the names and titles change so often.  I know several Englishwomen who have had four different names.  Lady Holland was also a friend of “Oncle Alphonse” and dined there often.  She was delicate-looking, rather quiet in general conversation, though she spoke French easily, but was interesting when she was talking to one or two people.  We went often to her beautiful house in London, the first years we were at the embassy, and always met interesting people.  Her salon was very cosmopolitan—­every one who came to London wanted to go to Holland House, which was a museum filled with beautiful things.