Both Prince and Princess Metternich had learned it at Petit Val. Madame Gallifet knew it as "Sir Roger de Coverley" from her English days, and Prince Murat must have learned it from his American mother. The Emperor danced with me, as he said he would only dance with an _expert_! The Empress had Count Golz for her partner, and stood next to me; Princess Metternich (full of fun) chose one of the most ancient warriors. Madame de Persigny and Prince Murat were at the end of the line; the other guests filled the intermediate places. Prince Metternich, knowing the music, thought he was absolutely necessary at the piano, consequently he took Waldteufel's place there. I, as "the expert," led off. The Emperor tried to imitate me, but became confused by the constant shouting from his cousin (Prince Murat) at the other end. However, he and I managed to finish our part; but the Emperor refused to be swung, and we marched down the middle of the line, hand in hand, disregarding the rules in a truly royal manner. Then, having watched the Empress go through her part (she also marched down in a royal manner), the Emperor seemed bored at looking at the others, and called the Marquis de Caux to take his place. Next, Prince Metternich began improvising reels of his own invention, which turned into all sorts of fantastic measures, which were impossible to dance by. Madame de Persigny, in turning, fell flat on her back; every one rushed to her rescue, which caused great confusion, as people lost their places and could not find them again. This brought our famous reel, which proved to be a dead failure, to an abrupt close; and the old generals, for whose sake we danced it, never got a chance to show what they could do; and we were thankful when Waldteufel returned to the piano and played a waltz, to which we could dance until it was time for the Emperor's tea, and then, _Bonsoir!_ _November 27th._ DEAR M.,--Baron Haussmann took me in to _déjeuner_ this morning. The Baron is the Préfet de Paris. He is very tall, bulky, and has an authoritative way of walking ahead and dragging his partner after him, which makes one feel as if one was a small tug being swept on by a man-of- war! I wondered if the _Cent Gardes_ noticed how I tripped along, taking two steps to his one, until he reached his seat at the table, into which he dropped with a sigh of relief. His body in profile defies any one's looking around the corner, so to speak. I could only see at intervals Marquise Chasselouplobat's shapely elbows and hands. Our conversation turned on the new improvements he intends to make in Paris. He asked me how I liked the boulevard of his name, just completed. "I like it," I answered, "though it has deprived us of a good part of our garden." (It had cut off just half of it.) "It brings you nearer the Bois," he added. "I hope the Government paid you well for it." "I suppose the Government thinks it did; but our croquet-ground is gone forever."