The ceremony took place yesterday and I have seen Basia, who looks beautiful, although she has grown a little thin and pale. She is always as good as an angel, and as happy as a queen. The duke begged that the little girl be named after me, but Basia was firm in her first purpose; and she was right, for this honor was due to our gracious Mother. Thus the little girl was christened "Angela;" she is a dear little thing, and she cried during the whole ceremony, which is a good sign that she will live to be aged. It was the first time in my life that I stood as godmother; I did not know how to hold the baby, so the duke had to help me. It seemed so queer to stand with him before the altar surrounded by so many people, and to write down my name next to his in the large book. Perhaps it was to this event that Matenko's predictions referred. Everybody is congratulating me on the great honor which befell me. The duke is still more attentive than before, and a little more familiar; he calls me "my beautiful partner," and the little girl is always "our little Angela." He presented handsome gifts to Madame Starostine and to me, and threw handfuls of gold among the attendants and the poor in the church. I for my part could not do so much, but the little embroidered christening robe, my gift to Angela, has cost me more than a few hours' work. But I forget to speak about an important affair. The topic of conversation in Warsaw has for some time been a hunting party which the Prince Jerome Radzivill, the Hetman of the Lithuania army, is preparing for the pleasure of the king and the duke. He is spending thousands in order to make a grand display, and has had the game brought from the forests of Lithuania, over 500 miles away. The fête will be to-morrow; the weather is fine and the sleighing excellent. The duke wished to drive his "partner," and it shall be so. The four Warsaw belles--for I am counted now as the fourth--will go in one sleigh, and the duke will be our driver. All four will have costumes alike, but of different colors,--long velvet coats, tight at the waist, trimmed with sable, and small caps with fur to match. The Countess Potocka has selected blue, the Princess Sapieha dark green, Mademoiselle Wessel marroon, and I shall wear dark crimson. It is a pity Basia will not see all this, but she is so happy with her little Angela that she does not care for anything else. _Friday_, January 17. I have never in my life seen anything so magnificent as this hunting party. We started at nine o'clock in the morning. One could not possibly count all the horses and sleighs which were assembled before the king's castle, but ours was the handsomest of all, and we followed first after the king. The duke, in a hunting costume of green velvet, looked superb!