The Elysee looked just as it did in the marshal's time--plenty of servants in gala liveries--two or three huissiers who knew everybody--palms, flowers, everywhere. The traditions of the palace are carried on from one President to another, and a permanent staff of servants remains. We found Madame Grévy with her daughter and one or two ladies, wives, I suppose, of the secretaries, seated in the well-known drawing-room with the beautiful tapestries--Madame Grévy in a large gold armchair at the end of the room--a row of gilt armchairs on each side of hers--mademoiselle standing behind her mother. A huissier announced every one distinctly, but the names and titles said nothing to Madame Grévy. She was tall, middle-aged, handsomely dressed, and visibly nervous--made a great many gestures when she talked. It was amusing to see all the people arrive. I had nothing to do--there were no introductions--every one was announced, and they all walked straight up to Madame Grévy, who was very polite, got up for every one, men and women. It was rather an imposing circle that gathered around her--Princess Hohenlohe, German ambassadress, sat on one side of her--Marquise Molins, Spanish ambassadress, on the other. There were not many men--Lord Lyons, as doyen of the diplomatic corps, the nonce, and a good many representatives of the South American Republics. Madame Grévy was perfectly bewildered, and did try to talk to the ladies next to her, but it was an intimidating function for any one, and she had no one to help her, as they were all quite new to the work. It was obviously an immense relief to her when some lady of the official world came in, whom she had known before. The two ladies plunged at once into a very animated conversation about their children, husbands, and various domestic matters--a perfectly natural conversation, but not interesting to the foreign ladies. We didn't make a very long visit--it was merely a matter of form. Lord Lyons came out with me, and we had quite a talk while I was waiting for my carriage in the anteroom. He was so sensible always in his intercourse with the official world, quite realised that the position was difficult and trying for Madame Grévy--it would have been for any one thrown at once without any preparation into such perfectly different surroundings. He had a certain experience of republics and republican manners, as he had been some years in Washington as British minister, and had often seen wives of American statesmen and ministers, fresh from the far West, beginning their career in Washington, quite bewildered by the novelty of everything and utterly ignorant of all questions of etiquette--only he said the American women were far more adaptable than either French or English--or than any others in the world, in fact. He also said that day, and I have heard him repeat it once or twice since, that he had _never_ met a stupid American woman....