We bade the _dames d'honneur_ good night and fled, found the coupé before the entrance, and weren't we glad to get in it and drive away? I never in my life felt what it was to be _de trop_ and even _deux de trop_. We reached the Rue de Courcelles at nine o'clock. It was too early to go to bed, and so I am sitting in my dressing-gown, while Charles has gone to his club to learn the latest news. _19th July._ This morning war was declared for sure, and they say that the Emperor is leaving soon with the Prince. Every one is very confident of the success of the French Army, and people go about in the streets singing "À Berlin" to the tune of "Les lampions." PETIT VAL, _28th July_. The Emperor, with the Prince, left this morning for Metz, to take the command of the army. He did not come into Paris, but in order to avoid demonstrations, noise, etc., had a platform put up on the other side of the station at St. Cloud, where the Empress and her ladies could say their adieux without the crowd looking on. The last words the Empress said to her son were, "Louis, fais ton devoir." She is made the Regent during the absence of the Emperor. _30th August_. It looks now as if there might be war all over France. As it is, the Prussians are near Paris, and the French are trying to regain the ground they have lost. The news we get is very contradictory. According to the French official reports the French Army has been successful all the time. The English papers probably give the untarnished truth, unfavorable as it may be to France. Some people say that at the worst there is only a question of unimportant skirmishes. We are well out of Paris and safely in Dinard, where Mr. Moulton is building a new house (we have already two). We left Petit Val rather precipitately, leaving everything behind us, clothes in wardrobes and letters in commodes. We shall not be away more than a month. I can only say that we lead the most peaceful of lives during this time of war. I will not tell you any news, because it won't be news when you read it. We are and have been all the time fed on false reports, great placards pasted up everywhere telling of the French victories, but from our English papers we know the contrary. It is pitiful to see the poor, half-clad peasants being drilled on the beach with sticks in their hands instead of guns. It is the French idea of keeping up the spirits of the army. I sang in the cathedral last Sunday, and the _quête_ (the money taken), they said, was a large sum. I doubt it! I know what the _quêtes_ are here. Anything that can rattle in the bag is good. Buttons are particularly popular, as no one can see what you put in, and it does not matter. There was a tremendous storm last night, and many of the slates of the new villa were blown off. The servants who sleep there thought that the Germans had come at last, and were frightened out of the few wits they own.