Our Governor-General, Prince Dolgorouki, underwent the same fate as Count Brevern de-la-Gardie, my husband’s chief; he was made to understand that it was time for him to give up his post. The uncle of our Emperor, the Grand-Duke Sergius, who was married to Elizaveta Fedorovna, Grand-Duchess of Hessen-Darmstadt, the granddaughter of Queen Victoria and sister of our Empress, was named Governor-General of Moscow in his place. I had to go and meet the Royal pair at the railway station, my name being put in the list with all the ladies, who were to present the image of the Virgin to the Grand Duchess. All the so-called “high-life” of Moscow had assembled at the station. When the train was signalled we went on to the platform covered with red cloth. The Grand-Duke, giving his arm to his spouse, advanced towards the Mayor of the town, who presented them with a silver plate and on it the traditional “Bread and Salt,” an ancient Russian custom. On the next day I was presented to the Grand-Duchess, and found myself amidst a lot of ladies standing in a semi-circle in one of the large halls of the palace. The Grand-Duchess was going round, speaking a word of welcome to everyone of us. I was curious to watch the expression of the ladies waiting for the honour of being addressed by Her Imperial Highness; some of them dropped profound courtesies till they almost disappeared. In May the French Exhibition on the Khodinka Field was inaugurated under the presidence of M. Ditz-Monin, a Senator of the French Republic. There were many interesting things to be seen at the Exhibition. The sections of jewellery and costumes were admirable; beautiful costumes were exhibited by Redfern and Paquin, but the prices were exorbitant: a splendid ball-dress cost neither more nor less than 10,000 francs. Admiral Gervais visited Kronstadt with the French squadron of ships, and came with all his officers to visit our old city. A banquet was given in their honour at the Exhibition, in the Imperial Pavilion, where everything was done grandly. Caviare was served in a big barrel, and ice-cream was made in the shape of the Eiffel tower with tiny French and Russian flags stuck into the top, which the naval officers pinned in their button-holes as souvenirs. One of the young marine officers exchanged visiting-cards with his neighbour at table, the Vice-Governor of Moscow, who, on returning home, showed it to his wife, and to her great amazement she read on the wrong side of the card the addresses and prices of the most popular courtesans of Moscow, pencilled on it, with the officer’s personal valuation of them. I can well imagine how the young mariner felt when he found out his mistake!