The Prince continued: "The whole family signed a petition to the Emperor Napoleon to be allowed to return to France and serve in the army. Can you imagine why they want to go back to France when they can live quietly here and be out of politics?" the Prince said. "Do you think, sir, that the Emperor will refuse?" "One never knows," said the Prince. "Qui vivra verra." The Marlborough ball was very magnificent. The Princess of Wales looked exquisite. She is very lovely, and has gracious, sweet manners. I don't wonder that her people adore her; and I think the Prince is just as good as he can be. _July, 1870._ On our return from London I remained quietly at delightful Petit Val. On the 10th of July we received an invitation to a dinner at St. Cloud, but unfortunately we had promised Baroness Rothschild to spend some days at Ferrières, and when the invitation came we were obliged to send a telegram to St. Cloud expressing our regrets. There is such a talk of war, and so many rumors afloat, that every one is more than excited. Alphonse Rothschild says that, if there should be a war, it will be a tremendous one, and that Germany is better prepared than France. "But," said he, "you ought to know about that, as your brother-in-law Hatzfeldt is in the secrets of his country." "That's just it," I answered; "because he is in the secrets of his country he is the last person to learn anything from, and we (the family) would be the last to know. But do you think that, if war were really imminent, the Emperor would think of giving a dinner?" I asked. "That might be. We don't yet know what the result of Benedetti's interview with the King of Prussia at Ems will be," the Baron answered. We stayed at Ferrières until the 14th, and returned to Petit Val, where we received another invitation to St. Cloud for the 17th, which we accepted. On the 15th we went to Chamarande, returning to Paris on the following afternoon. The Duke de Persigny was not at Chamarande, otherwise we should have been a little more _au courant_ of how desperate things looked in Paris. The Duchess had a word from the Duke the night before, "and he seemed," she said, "very despondent." But I remarked, as I did before, "Things could not be so threatening if they were giving a dinner." "Je n'y comprends rien," she replied, which was her invariable answer to any doubt expressed, or when one wanted a direct response. We got back to town at half-past five, and I soon began dressing for the dinner. We drove out to St. Cloud, and arrived at the door of the château just before seven o'clock. What was our astonishment at not seeing any of the numerous servants who generally were waiting in the vestibule. There was only one man to be seen. I began taking off my mantle, still wondering, when Monsieur de Laferrière came quickly out from one of the salons and said excitedly, "Did you not receive my letter countermanding the dinner?" "Countermanding the dinner! What? Then there is no dinner?"