Mme. Adam used to complain that in Paris during the first years of the Republic, while the National Assembly continued to sit at Versailles, anything like true sociability was impossible. And it was true that poor “capitulating Paris” was somewhat shorn of her brightest social glories. The whole of political society precipitated itself upon Versailles. On the days when some great oration was expected from Thiers, Dufaure, Batbie or Gambetta, the railway platform at the Gare St. Lazare was thronged, and the carriages in the Versailles train so crowded that it was almost impossible to find a place. Versailles itself was completely transformed. Never since its royal days had it seen such life. It is true that the dull stream of black coats flowing along its streets made one long for the gay, beplumed, bejewelled courtiers of _le Roi Soleil_. Nevertheless, the political whirl of the place was much greater than ever during _l’ancien régime_. Constituents waylaid deputies in the streets and poured into their impatient ears whole _cahiers_ of grievances. At the luncheon and dinner-hour the Hôtel des Réservoirs was packed. It was necessary to reserve tables days in advance. And how delightful it was to sit and sip one’s coffee in the delicious freshness of the park after a hot summer afternoon passed in the close atmosphere of the parliament chamber. In that charming verandah, which many of us know so well, ministers and deputies met together, while the gay frocks and the still gayer laughter of their women friends enlivened the scene. Centuries seemed to have passed since the evil days of _l’Année Terrible_. Nowhere was the miraculous recuperative force of France more striking, never had political society more _entrain_ than during those parliament years at Versailles.