When it came to the Riviera he was well aware of all that region had to promise from Cannes to Mentone; and he could nicely differentiate the advantages of the Café de Paris; the grand dining-room of the Hôtel de Paris which was across the street; the Hermitage, which he insisted had quite the most beautiful dining-room in Monte Carlo; the Princess which one of the great stars of the opera had very regularly patronized some years before; the restaurant of the Grand Hotel which he considered very exceptional indeed; and the restaurant at the terminus of the La Turbie mountain railway--which he emphatically approved and which commanded a magnificent view of the coast and the sea. I was drilled to understand that if I had _mostelle à l’Anglais_ at the Hôtel de Paris I was having a very excellent fish of the country, served in the very best manner, which is truly worth knowing. If we went to the Princess, the _maître d’hôtel_, whom he knew from an older day, would serve us midgeon in some marvelous manner which would be something for me to remember. At the Café de Paris we were to have soupe Monègasque which had a reminiscence, so he insisted, of Bouillabaisse and was very excellent. The soupions were octopi, but delicate little ones--not the kind that would be thrust upon one in Rome. I was lost among discourses regarding the value of the Regents at Nice; the art of M. Fleury, now the manager of the Hôtel de Paris; and what a certain head-master could do for one in the way of providing a little local color, as Barfleur termed it, in the food. To all of this, not being a gourmet, I paid as strict attention as I could; though I fear me much, that a large proportion of the exquisite significance of it all was lost on me. I can only say, however, that in spite of Scorp’s jeering, which was constant, the only time we had a really wonderful repast was when Barfleur ordered it. The first luncheon at the Admiralty was an excellent case in point. Barfleur being on the Riviera and being host to several, was in the most stupendous of artistic moods. He made up a menu of the most delicious of hors d’œuvre--which he insisted should never have been allowed to take the place of soup, but which, alas, the custom of the time sanctioned and the caviare of which in this case was gray, a point which he wished me particularly to note--sole walewski; roast lamb; salad nicois; and Genoese asparagus in order to give our meal the flavor of the land. We had coffee on the balcony afterwards, and I heard much concerning the wonders of this region and of the time when the Winter Palace was the place to lunch. A grand duke was a part of the day’s ensemble, and two famous English authors before whom we paraded with dignity.