Countess Castellane gave a beautiful costume ball the other evening, which I must tell you about, because it was so original. The stables were connected with the salons by a long, carpeted gallery, at the end of which was a huge fresco on the walls, representing a horse-race in a very lifelike manner. Through a large plate-glass window one could see the whole stable, which was, as you may imagine, in spick-and-span order; and Count Castellane's favorite horse was saddled and bridled, a groom in full livery standing by its side. It was amusing to see ladies in their ball dresses walking about in the stables, where the astonished horses were blinking in the gas-light. In one of the quadrilles the ladies and gentlemen were dressed as children, in short socks and frocks with enormous sashes. Princess Metternich was costumed as a milkmaid; she had real silver pails hung over her shoulders. Duchesse de Persigny was a _chiffonnière_ with a _hotte_ on her back and a gray dress very much looped up, showing far above her wooden shoes. PARIS, _1863._ DEAR M.,--The ice in the Bois continues very good; I am skating every day. I have commenced to teach the little Prince Imperial. He is very sweet, and talks very intelligently for his age. The other day, when I was skating with the Empress, a gentleman (I think he was an American), skating backward, knocked against us with such force that the Empress and I both fell. I tried with all my might to keep her from falling, but it was impossible. Her first words, when we were helped on our feet again, were, "Don't tell the Emperor; I think he did not see us." That same evening there was a ball at the Tuileries, and when the Empress came to speak to me she said: "How are you? I can hardly stand up." I answered, "I am worse off, your Majesty; I can stand up, but I cannot sit down." Yesterday, when I came home from my singing lesson with Delle Sedie, I found the family quite excited. The Empress's chamberlain had just been here to say that the Empress desired that we would come to the Tuileries next Monday, and expressed the wish that I should bring some music. I wrote to Delle Sedie and begged him to advise me what I should sing; he answered that he would come himself and talk it over with me, and Monsieur Planté, a young, budding pianist, who was ordered from the Tuileries to accompany my songs, was sent for, and Delle Sedie came at the same time. Delle Sedie thought that I should begin with "Tre Giorni son che Nina," of Pergolesi, and then the air from "Lucia," and if I were asked to sing again the "Valse de Venzano." On these occasions gentlemen wear the _pantalon collant_, which is a most unbecoming and trying costume, being of black cloth fitting very tight and tapering down to the ankle, where it finishes abruptly with a button. Any one with a protruding ankle and thin legs cannot escape criticism.