Besides, my dear, the cold, there was another reason for doubting.  Did the French nation, or did they not, intend to offer up some of us English over the imperial grave?  And were the games to be concluded by a massacre?  It was said in the newspapers that Lord Granville had despatched circulars to all the English resident in Paris, begging them to keep their homes.  The French journals announced this news, and warned us charitably of the fate intended for us.  Had Lord Granville written?  Certainly not to me.  Or had he written to all except me?  And was I the victim—­the doomed one?—­to be seized directly I showed my face in the Champs Elysees, and torn in pieces by French Patriotism to the frantic chorus of the “Marseillaise?” Depend on it, Madam, that high and low in this city on Tuesday were not altogether at their ease, and that the bravest felt no small tremor!  And be sure of this, that as his Majesty Louis Philippe took his nightcap off his royal head that morning, he prayed heartily that he might, at night, put it on in safety.

Well, as my companion and I came out of doors, being bound for the Church of the Invalides, for which a Deputy had kindly furnished us with tickets, we saw the very prettiest sight of the whole day, and I can’t refrain from mentioning it to my dear, tender-hearted Miss Smith.

In the same house where I live (but about five stories nearer the ground) lodges an English family, consisting of—­1.  A great-grandmother, a hale, handsome old lady of seventy, the very best-dressed and neatest old lady in Paris. 2.  A grandfather and grandmother, tolerably young to bear that title. 3.  A daughter.  And 4.  Two little great-grand, or grandchildren, that may be of the age of three and one, and belong to a son and daughter who are in India.  The grandfather, who is as proud of his wife as he was thirty years ago when he married, and pays her compliments still twice or thrice in a day, and when he leads her into a room looks round at the persons assembled, and says in his heart, “Here, gentlemen, here is my wife—­show me such another woman in England,”—­this gentleman had hired a room on the Champs Elysees, for he would not have his wife catch cold by exposing her to the balconies in the open air.

When I came to the street, I found the family assembled in the following order of march:—­

—­No. 1, the great-grandmother walking daintily along, supported by No. 3, her granddaughter.

—­A nurse carrying No. 4 junior, who was sound asleep:  and a huge basket containing saucepans, bottles of milk, parcels of infants’ food, certain dimity napkins, a child’s coral, and a little horse belonging to No. 4 senior.

—­A servant bearing a basket of condiments.

—­No. 2, grandfather, spick and span, clean shaved, hat brushed, white buckskin gloves, bamboo cane, brown great-coat, walking as upright and solemn as may be, having his lady on his arm.