The man holding the bridle opposite to Louis seemed a most formidable person to me. Still, I tried to smile with placid calmness, and though I was shaking all over said, "Pardon, Monsieur, will you permit me to have my horse harnessed?" I think he was completely taken off his guard, for, with the intuitive gallantry of a Frenchman, he answered me amiably, throwing back his coat, and showing me his badge, said, "I am the agent of the Committee of Public Safety, and it is for the Government that I take the horse." I made him observe that it would be very difficult for me to walk to my home in the Rue de Courcelles, and if his government wanted the horse it could come there and fetch it. He looked doubtfully at me, as if weighing the situation, then said, very courteously, "I understand, Madame, and I give you back your horse." And he even helped Louis to reharness the horse, who seemed happy to return to his shafts. When I arrived home I had to go to bed, I was so exhausted. Mademoiselle W---- administered the infallible camomile tea, her remedy for every ill. Her mind cannot conceive of any disease which is not cured by camomile tea, unless _in extremis_, when _fleurs d'oranger_ takes its place. _24th of March._ The American secretary, Mr. Hoffman, and his wife, who are living in Versailles, invited Mrs. Moulton and me to luncheon to-day, saying that Mr. Washburn was also of the party; therefore we need have no fear of being molested or inconvenienced on our way. There were only two trains to Versailles now. We took the one at midday from Paris, and arrived slowly but surely at the dirty, smoky station, where we found Mr. Hoffman waiting for us with a landau, in which we drove to his house. We had an excellent luncheon, to which we all did justice; after which Mr. Hoffman proposed our going to the _Assemblée_, which has its sittings in the Palace, and we readily consented. I was particularly glad to have an opportunity to see the notabilities whose names and actions had been our daily food these last months. We sat in Mr. Hoffman's box, who, in his position as secretary of the American Legation, had been obliged to attend all these _séances_ from the first. He knew all the celebrities, and most amiably pointed them out to me. Thiers was in the president's chair; Louis Blanc, Jules Favre, Jules Grévy, and others were on the platform. I confess I was rather disappointed; I thought that this pleiades of brilliant minds would surely overcome me to such a degree that I should not sleep for weeks. But, strangely enough, they had just the opposite effect. I think Mr. Washburn must be writing a book on modern history, and Mr. Hoffman must be writing one on ancient history. I sat between them--a drowsy victim--feeling as if my brain was making spiral efforts to come out of the top of my head.