The young Count de Choiseul, who had blackened his face to represent an Egyptian page, not only carried her train, but held over the head of the daughter of Hamilcar an umbrella of Robinson Crusoe dimensions. Her gold crown fell off once while walking about, and Choiseul made every one laugh when he picked it up and put it on his own black locks. She walked on all unconscious, and wondered why people laughed. My costume was that of a Spanish dancer. Worth told me that he had put his whole mind upon it; it did not feel much heavier for that: a banal yellow satin skirt, with black lace over it, the traditional red rose in my hair, red boots and a bolero embroidered in steel beads, and small steel balls dangling all over me. Some com-pliments were paid to me, but unfortunately not enough to pay the bill; if compliments would only do that sometimes, how gladly we would receive them! But they are, as it is, a drug in the market. The Emperor was in domino--his favorite disguise--which is no disguise at all, for every one recognizes him. [Illustration: DANIEL FRANÇOIS ESPRIT AUBER] I met the famous Auber at the Tuileries ball. The Duke de Persigny brought him and introduced him to me, not because Auber asked to be presented, but because I was most anxious to make his acquaintance, and begged the duke to bring him. He is a short, dapper little man, with such a refined and clever face. Wit and repartee sparkle in his keen eyes. His music is being very much played now--"Fra Diavolo" and "Dieu et la Bayadère," and others of his operas. His music is like himself--fine and dainty, and full of _esprit_; his name is Daniel François Esprit. M. de Persigny said, "Madame Moulton desires to know you, Monsieur Auber." I said, "I hope you will not think me indiscreet, but I did want to see you and know the most-talked- about person in Paris." In reply he said: "You have the advantage over me, Madame. I have never heard myself talked about." Then the Duke de Persigny said something about my voice. Auber turned to me, and said, "May I not also have the privilege of hearing you?" Of course I was tremendously pleased, and we fixed a day and hour then and there for his visit. Prince Jérome, who is a cousin of the Emperor (people call him Plon-Plon), is not popular; in fact, he is just the contrary. But his wife, the Princess Clothilde, would be exceedingly popular if she gave the Parisians a chance to see her oftener. She is so shy, so young, and the least pretentious of princesses, hates society, and never goes out if she can avoid it. Prince Jérome is, of all the Napoleonic family, the one who most resembles Napoleon I. in appearance, but not in character. There is nothing of the hero about him. Since he had the misfortune to be suddenly indisposed the night before the battle of Solferino, and did not appear, they call him "craint-plomb." _Sé non è vero è ben trovato._