Then Mr. M---- gave his consent, and I was blissfully happy.
It seems that the Emperor"s attention had been railed to the many very disagreeable articles in the newspapers on the subject of the extravagant _pourboires_ exacted at Compiegne. The Emperor was very much annoyed, and gave immediate orders to suppress this system, which had been going on for years without his knowledge.
Last night we stayed in Paris, to be ready at half-past two this afternoon. To describe our departure, arrival, and reception would only be to repeat what I have already written last year. Among the fifty or sixty guests there were many who were here then. In addition there are Duke d"Albe, with his daughters; Baron Beyens, the Belgian Minister; Mr.
Mallet, of the English Emba.s.sy, Mr. Due of the Swedish Legation; the poet, Prosper Merimee; and many, of course, I do not know.
Singularly enough, we were shown into the same apartment we had before, which made us feel quite at home. We found tea, chocolate, and cakes on the table, of which I partook with enthusiasm, and then enjoyed an hour"s rest before dressing for dinner.
We met at seven o"clock in the _Salle des Fetes_, the only room in this huge chateau large enough to contain all the party here (I suppose there must be one hundred and twenty people), for which reason it serves both as reception and ballroom.
The Empress looked superb in a gown of an exquisite shade of lilac; she wore her beautiful pearls and a tiara of diamonds and pearls. When she approached me she held out her hand, and said she was very glad to see me.
The Emperor was kind and gracious, as usual.
The Baron Gourgaud was told to take me in to dinner, and we followed the procession to the dining-room, pa.s.sing the _Cent Gardes_, who looked like an avenue of blue and glittering trees. The Baron Gourgaud and I are neighbors in the country, their place, La Grange, being not far from Pet.i.t Val. His conversation is not absorbing; but as he knows he is dull he does not pretend to be anything else. I was thankful for this, as I felt that I did not need to make the slightest effort to entertain him.
I cast my eyes round the table, and if I had not known that this was _la serie amusante_ I should never have guessed it--every one seemed so spiritless and "sans le moindre entrain," as my neighbor remarked.
No excitement this evening but the dance. Waldteufel is suppressed! They say that the Emperor, who has a horror of publicity in private life, was very displeased last year by the indiscretions and personal anecdotes, and especially the caricatures made by Gustave Dore, which appeared in the _Figaro_. The Emperor vowed that no outsiders should be invited again; therefore poor Waldteufel has to pay _les pots ca.s.ses_, and we must make our own music.
Looking for a subst.i.tute for Waldteufel, a clever chamberlain discovered the "Debain piano" (mechanical piano).
You remember I had one in my youth. How I loved it! How I used to love to grind out all the beautiful music those ugly boxes contained! And how I used to wonder that those common wooden slides could reproduce such perfect imitations of the real thing.
I was so glad to see one again, and envied the perspiring chamberlain, who looked bored to extinction having to turn the crank, instead of joining the dance and turning the heads of the ladies. It took two of them to manage the complexities of the piano, and as neither possessed a musical turn of the wrist, and as neither had the remotest idea of time or measure, it was very hard for us poor dancers!
When one of the martyrs wanted to explain to the other what to do he would stop and forget to turn the crank. The dancers were thus obliged to pause, one foot in the air, not knowing when to put it down, and when they did put it down they did not fall in measure, and had to commence all over again. This spasmodic waltzing almost made us crazy. As for me, I could not bear it any longer. No chariot nor horses could have kept me away from that piano; to feel again (after so many years) the delight of playing it!
And then I wanted to show how it should be played; so I went to the piano and took the crank out of the tired hands of the chamberlain and ground out a whole dance.
I flatter myself that the dancers enjoyed at least this one.
His Majesty walked up to the piano while I was playing and said, "But, Madame, you will tire yourself; you really must stop and let some one take your place."
I replied: "If your Majesty only knew what a pleasure it is for me to play this piano! I had one like it when I was a little girl, and have never seen one since."
"Are these pianos not something quite new?" he asked. "I was told that they were the latest invention."
"They may be," I answered, "the latest improvement on an old invention; but the pianos are older than I am."
"That," answered the Emperor, smilingly, "does not make them very old."
He called one of the chamberlains, and I reluctantly gave up my place. The Count d"Amelot was summoned, and as we were about to waltz off the Emperor said, "If I danced, I should like to dance with you myself; but I do not dance."
"Then," I said, "I must dance without you."
He laughed: "Vous avez toujours la replique," and stood there watching us with those peculiar eyes of his.
I never received so many compliments on piano-playing as I did to-night.
Here is the list of my dresses (the cause of so much grumbling):
MORNING COSTUMES.
Dark-blue poplin, trimmed with plush of the same color, toque, m.u.f.f to match.
Black velvet, trimmed with braid, sable hat, sable tippet and m.u.f.f.
Brown cloth, trimmed with bands of sealskin, coat, hat, m.u.f.f to match.
Purple plush, trimmed with bands of pheasant feathers, coat, hat to match.
Gray velvet, trimmed with chinchilla, chinchilla hat, m.u.f.f and coat.
Green cloth (hunting costume).
Traveling suit, dark-blue cloth cloak.
EVENING DRESSES.
Light green tulle, embroidered in silver, and for my locks, what they call _une fantaisie_.
White tulle, embroidered with gold wheat ears.
Light-gray satin, quite plain, with only Brussels lace flounces.
Deep pink tulle, with satin ruchings and a lovely sash of lilac ribbon.
Black lace over white tulle, with green velvet twisted bows.
Light-blue tulle with Valenciennes.
AFTERNOON GOWNS.
Lilac faille.
Light cafe au lait with tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs of the same.
Green faille faced with blue and a red Charlotte Corday sash (Worth"s last gasp).
A red faille, quite plain.
Gray faille with light-blue facings.
Do you not think there is enough to last me as long as I live?
SUNDAY, _November 28th._
The ma.s.s is at ten o"clock on Sunday, and one meets in the grand salon before going to the chapel.
Madame de Gallifet and I, being Protestants, were not expected; but, as we wanted to go, we decided to don a black lace veil and follow the others.
The chapel is not large, but it is very richly decorated.
The Empress sat in a tribune facing the altar with a chosen few and her _dames d"honneur_.
The Emperor was not present.
It seemed to me that the ma.s.s was very hurried and curtailed. The chorus boys swung their censers nonchalantly, as though they were fanning themselves; probably they were impatient for their breakfast.
The cure did not preach any sermon; he only made an exhortation against the pomps and vanities of this wicked world, and told us that we had better be prepared for death, as it might come at any moment. This was nothing new; any one could have said it. He advised us to have our lamps trimmed, for, when our time came we would be cut down like gra.s.s and gathered in the garners. Perhaps he meant we ought to make our hay while the sun was shining. I wondered to myself, if some of those old gentlemen sinners who had sown so liberally would not be gathered in as oats. The cure was going on to say that we should not indulge too freely in the good things of this world; but pulled himself up in time, remembering, no doubt, that he was going to breakfast, as he did every Sunday, at the Imperial board and partake of its luxuries.
And before we knew it the ma.s.s was finished.
When we returned to the salon it was eleven o"clock, and every one was a.s.sembled for _dejeuner_.
The Marquis d"Aoust happened to sit next to me at table (I say happened, but I believe he manoeuvered so as to do so), and, taking me unawares between two mouthfuls of _truites saumonees_, decoyed me into accepting a stupendous proposition of his, which was to help him to get up an operetta which he had had the courage to compose. He said the idea had just come into his head; but I thought, for an impromptu idea, it was rather a ripe one, as he had brought the music with him, and had already picked out those he thought could help, and checked them off on his lean fingers. He said the operetta had one act only, which I thought was fortunate, and that it needed only four actors, which I thought was still more fortunate.