On Thursday evenings during the winter, dinners were given at the Tuileries for diplomats and state officials, followed by receptions and dancing. Four court balls were given in the course of the season, to which as many as five thousand invitations were issued, and which were marked by the utmost splendor. Both sides of the grand staircase were lined with palace guards. Guests waited in the galleries until the arrival of the sovereigns, when the doors of the great salon were thrown open and the Emperor and Empress took their places on the dais, the princes and princesses grouped about them. The Empress danced only the opening quadrille on these occasions, and at eleven retired with the Emperor to a smaller salon where there was also dancing. Eugénie possessed the truly royal gift of never forgetting a face or a name, and always had a kindly word or glance for every one as she passed through the crowded room; but when it was over and she reached her own apartments, she would be completely exhausted with the weight of the crown jewels, which she wore in the greatest profusion on these occasions. Sometimes she would not even wait for her women, but would snatch off the crown and heavy ornaments and toss them into the lap of the lady-in-waiting, who bore them carefully away, for each was worth a fortune. Besides these grand balls to which any one with the slightest claim to rank or position could easily obtain admission, the most splendid and original masquerades were given in Carnival time, to which invitations were more limited. During Lent there were no entertainments with the exception of four state concerts given under the direction of Auber, then court _kapellmeister_, and Count Bacciocchi, director of the theatre, in which all the most famous artists took part. Far more interesting than these semi-official affairs were the weekly Monday receptions held by the Empress in her own apartments. Only a select few were invited to these, and the Empress’s “Mondays” soon became famous all over Europe. Napoleon and Eugénie received their guests with the greatest cordiality, and conversed familiarly with all. Here Princess Metternich shone her brightest; here too were seen the beautiful Princess Murat, Duchess of Monchy; the gallant Count Walewski, who so closely resembled his father, the great Napoleon; the Emperor’s half-brother, the Duke de Morny; and his youthful friend and ally Duke Fialni de Persigny. Here Merimée’s inexhaustible fund of wit and humor found full play. Here the Emperor’s favorite, General Fleury, and the elegant Marquis de Caux (afterward the husband of Adelina Patti) led the cotillon and invented figures that made the rounds of Europe.