This long effusion will go early to-morrow morning, as they send off a valise at once from Moscow. _To H. L. K._ #Ambassade de France, Moscow#, #Maison Klein, Malaia Dimitrofska#, Monday, May 21st, 1883. We arrived quite safely and comfortably yesterday morning--34 people, counting servants, policemen, etc. I hadn't time to write, but you will have had the Havas telegram announcing our arrival. I am writing in my little boudoir, which looks on a large, square, light courtyard, and I wish you could see the wild confusion that reigns there. Quantities of boxes and "ballots" of every description. Mdme. Hubert, with a veil tied over her head, struggling to get at some of my trunks, which are all marked with an enormous M. K. W. in white letters (a private mark, so as not to confound them with the general mark of the Mission). Leroy, Hubert, and Pontecoulant trying to get the big carriage cases opened (they look like small houses). Sesmaisons and Calmon fussing over their saddles, which they apparently had got without much difficulty--quantities of Russian helpers working, talking, but _not_ loud, nor yelling to each other. How anything will ever come out of all that chaos I don't know. However, I must begin at the beginning. We got here about 8.30 yesterday morning. We were all up early, as the country grew more interesting as we approached Moscow. We had a confused vision of gilt domes, high coloured steeples, etc., but nothing stood out very distinctly. There was a fine confusion at the station--quantities of officials, all in uniform, detachments of soldiers, red carpets, etc. We were _not_ received officially, not being Princes. The Mission only exists here _after_ they have presented their lettres de creance. We found our consul, Lagrene, waiting for us, several members of the French Colony, and Lhermite. We drove off at once to our Ambassade. The main street, Tverskaya, looked very gay with quantities of flags and draperies in every direction, and even at that time in the morning a great many people. Our house looks well--the entrance isn't bad, and the staircase marble, handsome. I hardly looked at the reception-rooms, as I was anxious to get to mine. Lhermite had done them very well, quite as I wanted, and a nice-looking woman, Russian of course, the femme de charge left in the house, was there to see if everything was right.