I laughed at these “commandments,” but I soon realized that, under this jocular form, she considered them as very serious and important. Alas! my poor friend had hit upon the wrong person for her counsels. I detested paying visits, writing letters, signing photographs, or following anyone’s advice. I adore having people come to see me, and I detest going to see them. I adore receiving letters, reading them, commenting on them, but I detest writing them. I detest riding and driving in frequented parts, and I adore lonely roads and solitary places. I adore giving advice and I detest receiving it, and I never follow at once any wise advice that is given me. It always requires an effort of my will to recognize the justice of any counsel, and then an effort of my intellect to be grateful for it; at first it simply annoys me. Consequently, I paid no attention to Hortense Damian’s counsels, nor yet to Jarrett’s, and in this I made a great mistake, for many people were vexed with me—and, in any other country, I should have made enemies. On that first visit to London what a quantity of letters of invitation I received to which I never replied! How many charming women called upon me and I never returned their calls! Then, too, how many times I accepted invitations to dinner and never went after all, nor did I even send a line of excuse. It is perfectly odious, I know, and yet I always accept with pleasure and intend to go; but when the day comes I am tired, perhaps, or want to have a quiet time, or to be free from any obligation, and when I am obliged to decide one way or another, the time has gone by, and it is too late to send word and too late to go. And so I stay at home, dissatisfied with myself, with everyone else, and with everything. Hospitality is a quality made up of primitive taste and antique grandeur. The English are, in my opinion, the most hospitable people on earth, and they are hospitable simply and munificently. When an Englishman has opened his door to you he never closes it again. He excuses your faults and accepts your peculiarities. It is thanks to this broadness of ideas that I have been for twenty-five years the beloved and pampered _artiste_. I was delighted with my first _soirée_ in London, and I returned home very gay and very much “anglomaniaized.” I found some of my friends there—Parisians who had just arrived, and they were furious. My enthusiasm exasperated them, and we sat up arguing until two in the morning.