"Come, lazybones," said Joubert; "rouse yourself. Gone eight; and you are to go with the General at ten." "Where to?" said I, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. "Ma foi! where to? Why, on a visit to M. le Duc de Morny." "Oui." I was in the bath now, and soapsuds checked my questions. Joubert used to wash me just as if I were a dog on the mornings that soapsuds were the order of the day--that is to say, only twice a week, every Wednesday and Saturday; for this old soldier was as full of fixed opinions as any nurse, and he believed that too much soap took the oil out of the skin and made children weak. You may be sure I did not combat his theory. "Your best coat," said Joubert, as he took the article from the drawer, "and your best manners, if you please; for M. le Duc de Morny is the first gentleman in Paris, now that the Emperor is away. Now you are dressed, and--remember!" You may be sure I was in a flutter, for the Duc de Morny was a personage I had never seen, and he loomed large even on my small horizon. From my childhood's recollections I believe that the Duc had far more dominance and power than poor old Louis Napoleon, whose craft lay chiefly in his face. At a quarter to ten my father, in full general's uniform, very gorgeous, wearing his medals and the cross, appeared in the hall, where I was waiting for him. A closed carriage was at the door. We got in and started. The Hôtel de Morny was situated on the Quai d'Orsay. It was a huge building, with gardens running right down to the river. It was next to the Spanish Embassy, and had two entrances, one by the river, the other opening from the Rue de Lille. We passed down the Rue de Lille, and then turned in at the gates, and by a short roadway to the great courtyard. Other carriages were there--quite a number of them. Our carriage drew up at the steps, and we alighted. As we left the chilly morning, and passed through the swing-glass doors held open for us by a powdered footman, it was like entering a greenhouse, so warm was the air, and so perfumed with flowers. The Duc was far too astute a man to merge his personality in Government apartments. The Hôtel de Morny was his palace. There he held his court, receiving people in his bed-chamber after the fashion of a king. The salon was filled with people--all men, with one exception. We were expected, it seems; for the usher led us straight through the throng towards the tall double oak door that gave entrance to the Duc's room. "Stay here, Patrick," said my father, and he indicated a chair close to the door. Then he vanished into the sanctum of the Minister, and I was left alone to contemplate the people around me.