I cast my eyes down and put on my _sainte-ni-touche_ air, which at times I can assume, and as I looked at his Highness's dusky suite, who did not look over and above immaculate, in spite of the Mussulman's Mussulmania for washing, I thanked my stars that it "were not so." The interpreter who was on duty said to Prince Metternich: "Mussulmans drink no wine, nor does the Prophet allow them to eat off silver. Therefore, to ease our consciences" (he said, _mettre nos consciences à couvert_), "we tell them that the silver plates on which they eat are _iron_ plated with silver. They think the forks are also iron, otherwise they would eat with their fingers." The interpreter added that Mussulmans did not think the Parisian newspapers very interesting, because they contained so few crimes and no murders worth mentioning. What an insight this gives of the condition of their country and the tenor of their papers! We took our leave of the amiable Khedive, who expressed the hope that we would soon meet again. Before his departure from Paris there came a package with the card of one of his gentlemen, begging me, _de la part de Monseigneur_, to accept the "accompanying souvenir." The package contained two enameled bracelets of the finest oriental work in red-and-green, studded with emeralds. He sent an equally gorgeous brooch to the Princess Metternich. PARIS, _June, 1867._ DEAR M.,--I must write you about something amusing which happened to-day. Prince Oscar was most desirous of seeing Delsarte, having heard him so much spoken of. I promised to try to arrange an interview, and wrote to Delsarte to ask him to come to meet the Prince at our house. I received this characteristic answer, "I have no time to make visits. If his Highness will come to see me I shall be pleased," and mentioned a day and an hour. Prince Oscar, Monsieur Dué, the Swedish secretary, Mademoiselle W----, and I went at the appointed time, mounted Delsarte's tiresome stairs, and waited patiently in his salon while he finished a lesson. Monsieur Dué was very indignant at this _sans-gêne_, and apologized for Delsarte's want of courtesy; but the Prince did not mind, and occupied himself with looking at Delsarte's old poetry-books and albums. Finally Delsarte entered and graciously received his royal visitor. The Prince was most affable and listened to Delsarte's fantastic theories, pretending to be interested in the explanation of the cartoons, and began to discuss the art of teaching, which exasperated Delsarte to the verge of impoliteness. Prince Oscar offered to sing a Swedish song, a very simple peasant song, which he sang very well, I thought. The Swedish language is lovely for singing, almost as good as Italian. We looked for some words of praise; but Delsarte, adopting regency manners, which he can on occasions, said, in a most insinuating voice: "Your Highness is destined to become a king, one of these days. Is it not so?"