There were only two pianos, I believe, in the château; the one (upright) in the ballroom and the Erard in the _salle de musique_. At eleven o'clock we went into the Emperor's salon, where tea was served. MONDAY, _November 24, 1866._ DEAR M.,--At breakfast this morning I sat next to Prince Metternich. He told me that there was to be _conseil de ministres_ to-day, and therefore there was no question of their Majesties' presence at excursions, and no particular plans projected for this afternoon. Thus we were left to our own devices. Prince Metternich's fertile brain was already at work to imagine something amusing to divert their Majesties for the evening. He suggested charades. He is excellent at getting them up. When we met in the salon he spoke to the different people who he thought would be helping elements. The Marquise de Gallifet thought that tableaux would be better; Count de Vogüé suggested games (he knew several new ones, which he proposed). All in vain! Prince Metternich insisted on charades; therefore charades carried the day, of course. The Prince had already thought of the word "Exposition," and arranged in his mind what part each one of us was to have. The Vicomte de Laferrière, whom he was obliged to take into his confidence, told him that he would show us the room in which there was a stage for amateur performances. As soon as their Majesties had departed we proceeded to the said room, where there was a little stage, a very little one, with red-velvet curtains. Next to this room was a long gallery, in which there was a quantity of chests containing every variety of costumes, wigs, pastiches, tinsel ornaments, and all sorts of appurtenances--enough to satisfy the most dramatic imagination. Each garment, as it was held up to view, suggested endless possibilities; but the Prince stuck firmly to his first inspiration, and we were despatched to our different apartments to think out our rôles and to imagine how funny we were going to be. The Empress is always present at the _conseils de ministres_, which to-day must have lasted an unusually long time, as no one was invited to her tea. So we took ours with the Metternichs. The Prince had just returned from town, and was childishly eager to display the various and extraordinary purchases he had made, which he considered absolutely necessary for the finishing touches to our toilettes. His requisites consisted of an oil-can, a feather duster, a watchman's rattle, and wax enough to have made features for the whole Comédie Française, and paint and powder for us all. He would not tell us what he had procured for his _own_ costume, as he said he wanted to surprise us, adding, what he could not buy he had borrowed. Count Vogüé gave me his arm for dinner. Of course, we talked of little else but the charade.