When the second restoration of the Bourbons took place, the Prince Talleyrand, anxious to separate from the Princesse, and to get her out of his house, induced her, under the pretence that a change of air was absolutely necessary for her health, to go to England for some months.  She had only been there a few weeks when a confidential friend at Paris wrote to inform her that from certain rumours afloat it was quite clear the Prince did not intend her to take up her abode again in his house, and advised her to return without delay.  The Princesse instantly adopted this counsel, and arrived most unexpectedly in the Rue St.-Florentin, to the alarm and astonishment of the whole establishment there, who had been taught not to look for her entering the hotel any more; and to the utter dismay of the Prince, who, however anxious to be separated from her, dreaded a scene of violence still more than he wished to be released from his conjugal chains.

She forced her admission to his presence, overwhelmed him with reproaches, and it required the exercise of all his diplomatic skill to allay the storm he had raised.  The affair became the general topic of conversation at Paris; and when, the day after the event, the Prince waited on Louis the Eighteenth on affairs of state, the King, who loved a joke, congratulated him on the unexpected arrival of Madame la Princesse.

Prince Talleyrand felt the sarcasm, and noticed it by one of those smiles so peculiar to him—­a shake of the head and shrug of the shoulders, while he uttered “Que voulez-vous, Sire, chacun a son vingt Mars?” referring to the unexpected arrival of the Emperor Napoleon.

I have been reading Yes and No, a very clever and, interesting novel from the pen of Lord Normanby.  His writings evince great knowledge of the world, the work-o’-day world, as well as the beau monde; yet there is no bitterness in his satire, which is always just and happily pointed.  His style, too, is easy, fluent, and polished, without being disfigured by the slightest affectation or pedantry.

Had a long visit to-day from Dr. P——­, who has lent me the works of Bichat and Broussais, which he recommends me to read.  He is a most agreeable companion, and as vivacious as if he was only twenty.  He reminds me sometimes of my old friend Lady Dysart, whose juvenility of mind and manner always pleased as much as it surprised me.

Old people like these appear to forget, as they are forgotten by, time; and, like trees marked to be cut down, but which escape the memory of the marker, they continue to flourish though the lines traced for their destruction are visible.

The more I see of Count Waleski the more I am pleased with him.  He has an acute mind, great quickness of perception, and exceedingly good manners.  I always consider it a good sign of a young man to be partial to the society of the old, and I observe that Count Waleski evinces a preference for that of men old enough to be his father.  People are not generally aware of the advantages which agreeable manners confer, and the influence they exercise over society.  I have seen great abilities fail in producing the effect accomplished by prepossessing manners, which are even more serviceable to their owner than is a fine countenance, that best of all letters of recommendation.