After my retreat was over, I had the honour and the pleasure of being sent for--unfortunately Richard had left--by the Comte and the Comtesse de Chambord (Henri Cinq of France). By far the most interesting figure was this now departed relic of ancient chivalry, who lived a great part of the year here, the focus of a small Court, with an _entourage_ of Legitimates. They sent for me twice, and desired that I should dine with them. I had to explain to the Chamberlain that I had only the dress I was travelling in, but they said that that did not in the least matter; so I dined there, and the King honoured me by putting me on his right hand. He was most cordial and in good spirits, and talked incessantly, and was afterwards so gracious as to send me autographed portraits of himself and the Queen. He had known my mother before she was married, and had danced with her, I suppose, as a little boy; but he told me of it when I was at Venice with part of my family in 1858, when he made our six weeks' stay very happy. [Sidenote: _Bertoldstein_.] From there we visited Bertoldstein,--the station Feldbach,--the post town Fehring. The castle, bought by Safvet Pasha (Count Kossichsky) some twenty-six years ago, is an interesting feudal and melancholy looking place, where he reunites the comfort of Europe with Egyptian romance.[2] It is at the top of a hill, and there is a very beautiful drive to Gleichenberg, where there are waters and baths, very much frequented by Austrians, and a small theatre that was exceedingly amusing, and here we saw daily some of the best Austrian society, and heard some of the native music beautifully sung by them. The Pasha kept plenty of thoroughbred horses, chiefly black stallions, which he used to have paraded round the court of the house for our inspection, a boy to each horse. We frequently had to move out of the way, and to stand where their heels could not touch us; it was as much as the boys could do to hold them. I never saw a more perfect whip; he always drove four-in-hand, and the roads are so narrow, the drop at each side so deep, that you could not help wondering what would happen if we met anything, and I do not believe sometimes you could have put a sheet of paper between the vehicles. We enjoyed ourselves here very much for a few days, and then we returned to Graz. Then Richard went up to Karlsbad, paid a visit to Maríenbad, and then to Teplitz as a _Nach-kur_; then he went to Prague and Linz, then to Stein, then to Klagenfurt, and back to Trieste, when we began to write more biography. At this time Boïto's "Mefistofele" came to Trieste, and we both agreed that we had never heard anything like it, and never would again. You must be a musician to appreciate. The first time you feel almost confused, but new beauties develop with each hearing. MIDIAN.