In spite of our qualms the final quartette was not so bad after all. When it was time for me to come down from my upward flight in order to help the tenor, the Marquis again waved his right hand in the air to attract my attention, while he thundered a tremolo with his left, to keep the accompaniment going until he was sure that everything was right. The chorus came on in due order, and flourished their rakes and spades as though they were waving flags, in participation of the joy and gladness of the reconciliation. There was one moment of genuine hilarity, when the little fox-terrier belonging to the Empress's niece rushed on to the stage to join his mistress, who, with great _sang-froid,_ picked him up and went on singing, to the immense amusement of the audience. It was suffocatingly hot in the little theater, and we were glad to think that we had arrived at the end of our perilous journey. The red on our cheeks was getting paler; the powder was becoming paste; the black on the eyebrowless actors began to run down their cheeks; Monsieur d'Espeuilles's wig and mustache were all on one side. All these details mattered little, now that the end had come, and the performance had concluded with great _éclat_. The happy Marquis (though I think he aged ten years that hour at the piano) was radiant with his success. Every emotion had swept over him: ambition, vanity, hope, pride, forbearance, patience, long-suffering. The curtain fell amid great applause, as spontaneous as it was persistent and, I hope, genuine. We stayed in our costumes for the tea in the Emperor's salon. Both their Majesties complimented the Marquis, and thanked us all separately for the pleasure they had had and the trouble we had given ourselves. The Emperor said to me, "Vous vous êtes surpassée ce soir." I courtesied and asked him what he thought of the music. He hesitated before answering. "I don't know much about music; but it seems to me, as Rossini said of the music of Wagner: 'Il y a de jolis moments, mais de mauvais quarts d'heures!' All the same, it was very pretty." Every one praised the Marquis to the skies, and he was really in the seventh heaven of delight. I am only afraid his head will be turned, and that he will write another _chef-d'oeuvre_. I was glad when their Majesties bade us good night, for I was completely exhausted. PARIS, _December 5th_. It seems nice, all the same, to be at home again. We arrived in Paris at six o'clock, and at half-past seven I was in my bed, completely worn out. However, I must tell you how our visit ended the day before yesterday. Was it only the day before yesterday? It seems months ago. At _déjeuner_ the Princess Metternich sat on the right of the Emperor, and the Empress's brother-in-law, Duke d'Albe, gave me his _avant-le-déluge_ arm, and put me on the left of his Majesty.