Taking a red counter out of his pocket and handing it to me he said, "Will you take supper with me?" "Not alone," I answered. "You are too dangerous." He laughed and said, "I shall not be alone, my pretty lady." Then, giving me another counter, he said: "This is for your husband. If you will be at two o'clock at that door"--pointing to it--"it will be opened for you." At two o'clock we presented ourselves at the door of the said salon, which was immediately opened on our showing the _jetons_, and we found ourselves, as I thought we should, in the salon where their Majesties were to sup. There were already many people assembled: the Metternichs, the Persignys, the Gallifets, the Count and Countess Pourtales, etc.--I should say, twenty-five in all. There was a magnificent display of flowers and fruit on the table. The Emperor came in with the Empress, not looking in the least Cæsar-like, with his hair matted down on his forehead and his mustaches all unwaxed and drooping; but he soon twisted them up into their usual stiffness. I noticed that people looked at me persistently, and I fancied all sorts of awful things, and felt dreadfully embarrassed. After supper the Empress came up to me and said, "Where can one buy such lovely curls as you have, _chère Madame_?" I understood the reason now for the notice I was attracting. They had thought that the curls were false. I answered, hoping it would sound amusing, "Au Magasin du Bon-Dieu." The Empress smiled and replied; "Nous voudrions toutes acheter dans ce magasin-là; but tell me, are your curls real or false? You won't mind telling me (and she hesitated a little). Some people have made bets about it. How can we know," she said, "unless you tell us?" "My hair is all my own, your Majesty, and, if you wish to make sure, I am perfectly willing that you should see for yourself." And, removing my helmet, I took out the comb and let my hair down. Every one crowded around me, and felt and pulled my hair about until I had to beg for mercy. The Emperor, looking on, cried out, "Bravo, Madame!" and, gathering some flowers off the table, handed them to me, saying: "Votre succès tenait à un cheveu, n'est-ce pas?" Supposing the curls had been false, how I should have felt! I put on my head-dress again with the flowing tinsel threads, and, some one sending for a brush, I completed this exhibition by showing them how I curled my hair around my fingers and made this coiffure. I inclose the article about this supper which came out in the _Figaro_ (copied into a New York paper).