The next drawing-room, which I have appropriated as my sitting-room, is furnished with blue satin, with rich white flowers. It has a carpet of a chocolate-coloured ground with a blue border, round which is a wreath of bright flowers, and carved and gilt sofas, _bergeres_, and _fauteuils_, covered with blue satin like the curtains.

The recess we have lined with fluted blue silk, with a large mirror placed in the centre of it, and five beautiful buhl cabinets around, on which I intend to dispose all my treasures of old _Sevre_ china, and ruby gla.s.s.

I was told by the upholsterer, that he had pledged himself to _milord_ that _miladi_ was not to see her _chambre a coucher_, or dressing-room, until they were furnished. This I well knew was some scheme laid by Lord B. to surprise me, for he delights in such plans.

He will not tell me what is doing in the rooms, and refuses all my entreaties to enter them, but shakes his head, and says he _thinks_ I will be pleased when I see them; and so I think, too, for the only complaint I ever have to make of his taste is its too great splendour--a proof of which he gave me when I went to Mountjoy Forest on my marriage, and found my private sitting-room hung with crimson Genoa silk velvet, trimmed with gold bullion fringe, and all the furniture of equal richness--a richness that was only suited to a state room in a palace.

We feel like children with a new plaything, in our beautiful house; but how, after it, shall we ever be able to reconcile ourselves to the comparatively dingy rooms in St. James's Square, which no furniture or decoration could render any thing like the Hotel Ney?

The Duc and d.u.c.h.esse de Guiche leave Paris, to my great regret, in a few days, and will be absent six weeks. He is to command the encampment at Luneville, and she is to do the honours--giving dinners, b.a.l.l.s, concerts, and soirees, to the ladies who accompany their lords to "the tented field," and to the numerous visitors who resort to see it. They have invited us to go to them, but we cannot accept their kindness.

They are

"On hospitable thoughts intent,"

and will, I doubt not, conciliate the esteem of all with whom they come in contact.

He is so well bred, that the men pardon his superiority both of person and manner; and she is so warm-hearted and amiable, that the women, with a few exceptions, forgive her rare beauty. How we shall miss them, and the dear children, too!

Drove in the Bois de Boulogne yesterday, with the d.u.c.h.esse de Guiche: met my old acquaintance, Lord Yarmouth, who is as amusing and original as ever.

He has great natural talent and knowledge of the world, but uses both to little purpose, save to laugh at its slaves. He might be any thing he chose, but he is too indolent for exertion, and seems to think _le jeu ne vaut pas la chandelle_. He is one of the many clever people spoilt by being born to a great fortune and high rank, advantages which exclude the necessity of exercising the talents he possesses.

It is, however, no trifling merit, that born to immense wealth and high station, he should he wholly free from arrogance, or ostentation.

At length, the secret is out, the doors of my _chambre a coucher_ and dressing-room are opened, and I am delighted with both. The whole fitting up is in exquisite taste, and, as usual, when my most gallant of all gallant husbands that it ever fell to the happy lot of woman to possess, interferes, no expense has been spared.

The bed, which is silvered, instead of gilt, rests on the backs of two large silver swans, so exquisitely sculptured that every feather is in alto-relievo, and looks nearly as fleecy as those of the living bird.

The recess in which it is placed is lined with white fluted silk, bordered with blue embossed lace; and from the columns that support the frieze of the recess, pale blue silk curtains, lined with white, are hung, which, when drawn, conceal the recess altogether.

The window curtain is of pale blue silk, with embroidered muslin curtains, trimmed with lace inside them, and have borders of blue and white lace to match those of the recess.

A silvered sofa has been made to fit the side of the room opposite the fire-place, near to which stands a most inviting _bergere_. An _ecritoire_ occupies one panel, a bookstand the other, and a rich coffer for jewels forms a pendant to a similar one for lace, or India shawls.

A carpel of uncut pile, of a pale blue, a silver lamp, and a Psyche gla.s.s, the ornaments silvered to correspond with the decorations of the chamber, complete the furniture. The hangings of the dressing-room are of blue silk, covered with lace, and trimmed with rich frills of the same material, as are also the dressing-stools and _chaise longue_, and the carpet and lamp are similar to those of the bed-room.

A toilette table stands before the window, and small _jardinieres_ are placed in front of each panel of looking-gla.s.s, but so low as not to impede a full view of the person dressing in this beautiful little sanctuary.

The _salle de bain_ is draped with white muslin trimmed with lace, and the sofa and _bergere_ are covered with the same. The bath is of white marble, inserted in the floor, with which its surface is level. On the ceiling over it, is a painting of Flora scattering flowers with one hand while from the other is suspended an alabaster lamp, in the form of a lotos.

A more tasteful or elegant suite of apartments cannot be imagined; and all this perfection of furniture has been completed in three days! Lord B. has all the merit of the taste, and the upholsterer that of the rapidity and excellence of the execution.

The effect of the whole suite is chastely beautiful; and a queen could desire nothing better for her own private apartments. Few queens, most probably, ever had such tasteful ones.

Our kind friend, Charles Mills, has arrived from Rome,--amiable and agreeable as ever. He dined with us yesterday, and we talked over the pleasant days spent in the Vigna Palatina, his beautiful villa.

Breakfasted to-day in the Rue d'Anjou, a take-leave repast given to the Duc and d.u.c.h.esse de Guiche by Madame Craufurd. Lady Barbara and Colonel Craufurd were of the party, which was the only _triste_ one I have seen in that house. The Duc de Gramont was there, and joined in the regret we all felt at seeing our dear friends drive away.

It was touching to behold Madame Craufurd, kissing again and again her grandchildren and great-grandchildren, the tears streaming down her cheeks, and the venerable Duc de Gramont, scarcely less moved, embracing his son and daughter-in-law, and exhorting the latter to take care of her health, while the dear little Ida, his granddaughter, not yet two years old, patted his cheeks, and smiled in his face.

It is truly delightful to witness the warm affection that subsists between relatives in France, and the dutiful and respectful attention paid by children to their parents. In no instance have I seen this more strongly exemplified than in the Duc and d.u.c.h.esse de Guiche, whose unceasing tenderness towards the good Duc de Gramont not only makes his happiness, but is gratifying to all who behold it, as is also their conduct to Madame Craufurd.

I wish the encampment was over, and those dear friends back again.

CHAPTER VII.

Took possession of our new house to-day, and are delighted with it. Its repose and quiet are very agreeable, after the noise and bustle of the Rue de Rivoli. Spent several hours in superintending the arrangement of my books, china, _bijouterie_, and flowers, and the rooms look as habitable as if we had lived in them for weeks. How fortunate we are to have found so charming an abode!

A chasm here occurs in my journal, occasioned by the arrival of some dear relatives from England, with whom I was too much occupied to have time to journalise. What changes five years effect in young people! The dear girls I left children are now grown into women, but are as artless and affectionate as in childhood. I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw them, yet I soon traced the same dear countenances, and marvelled that though changed from the round, dimpled ones of infancy, to the more delicate oval of maidenly beauty, the expression of gaiety and innocence of their faces is still the same.

A week has pa.s.sed rapidly by, and now that they have returned to England, their visit appears like a dream. I wish it had been longer, for I have seen only enough of them to wish to see a great deal more.

The good Mrs. W. and her lively, clever, and her pretty daughter, Mrs.

R., dined with us yesterday. They are _en route_ for England, but give many a sigh to dear Italy. It was pleasant to talk over the happy days pa.s.sed there, which we did with that tender regret with which the past is always referred to by those who have sensibility, and they possess no ordinary portion of this lovable quality. Les Dames Bellegarde also dined with us, and they English friends took a mutual fancy to each other. I like the Bellegardes exceedingly.

Our old friend, Lord Lilford, is at Paris, and is as amiable and kind-hearted as ever. He dined with us yesterday, and we talked over the pleasant days we spent at Florence. Well-educated, and addicted to neither of the prevalent follies of the day, racing nor gaming, he only requires a little ambition to prompt him to exertion, in order to become a useful, as well as an agreeable member of the community, but with a good fortune and rank, he requires an incentive to action.

Met last evening at Madame Craufurd's the Marquis and Marquise Zamperi of Bologna. She is pretty and agreeable, and he is original and amusing. They were very civil, and expressed regret at not having been at Bologna when we were there.

Had a visit from Count Alexandre de Laborde to-day. His conversation is lively and entertaining. Full of general information and good sense, he is no n.i.g.g.ard in imparting the results of both to those with whom he comes in contact, and talks fluently, if not always faultlessly, in Italian and English.

The Marquis de Mornay and his brother Count Charles de Mornay dined here yesterday. How many a.s.sociations of the olden time are recalled by this ancient and n.o.ble name, Mornay du Plessis!

The Marquis is agreeable, sensible, well-informed, and well-bred.

Though justly proud of his high descent, the consciousness of it is never rendered visible by any symptom of that arrogance too often met with in those who have less cause for pride, and can only be traced by a natural dignity and bearing, worthy a descendant of the n.o.ble Sully.

Count Charles de Mornay is a very remarkable young man. With a brilliant wit, the sallies of which can "set the table in a roar;" it is never used at the expense of others, and, when he chooses to be grave, the quickness and justice of his perception, and the fine tact and good sense which mark his reflections, betray a mind of no common order, and give the promise of future distinction.

Nothing can be more agreeable than the mode in which I pa.s.s my time here. I read from nine until twelve: order the household arrangements, and inspect the _menu_ at twelve: write letters or journalise from one until four; drive out till six or half-past; return home, dress, dine, pay visits, or receive them at home, and get to bed at one o'clock.

How much preferable is the French system of evening visits, to the English custom of morning ones, which cut up time so abominably! Few who have lived much abroad could submit patiently to have their mornings broken in upon, when evening, which is the most suitable time for relaxation, can be enlivened by the visits that are irksome at other hours.

Paris is now nearly as empty as London is in September; all the _elite_ of French fashionable society having taken their departure for their country houses, or for the different baths they frequent. I, who like not crowds, prefer Paris at this season to any other, and shall be rather sorry than glad when it fills again.

Madame Craufurd, Lady Barbara and Colonel Craufurd, the Ducs de Gramont, Dalberg, and Mouchy, dined with us yesterday. We had music in the evening, The Duc Dalberg is agreeable and well-bred, and his manner has that suavity, mingled with reserve, said to be peculiar to those who have lived much at courts, and filled diplomatic situations.

The Duc was Minister Plenipotentiary from Baden at Paris, when Napoleon was First Consul, and escaped not censure on the occasion of the seizure of the unfortunate Duc d'Enghien; of the intention of which it was thought he ought to have apprised his court, and so have prevented an event which has entailed just blame on all concerned in it, as well as on some who were innocent.

There is nothing in the character of the Duc Dalberg to warrant a belief of his being capable of lending himself to aught that was disloyal, for he is an excellent man in all the relations of life, and is esteemed and respected by as large a circle of friends as most persons who have filled high situations can boast of.

The Duc de Mouchy is a very amiable as well as high-bred man; he has been in England, and speaks English with fluency.

Letters from the camp of Luneville, received from our dear friends to-day, give a very animated description of their doings there. The Duc de Mouchy told me yesterday that they were winning golden opinions from all with whom they came in contact there, by their urbanity and hospitality. He said that people were not prepared to find the handsomest and most fashionable woman at Paris, "the observed of all observers," and the brightest ornament of the French court, doing the honours to the wives of the officers of the camp with an amiability that has captivated them all. The good Duc de Gramont was delighted at hearing this account, for never was there a more affectionate father.

Went with a party yesterday to Montmorency. Madame Craufurd, the Comtesse de Gand, the Baronne d'Ellingen, Comte F. de Belmont, and our own circle, formed the party. It was gratifying to witness how much dear Madame Craufurd enjoyed the excursion; she even rode on a donkey through the woods, and the youngest person of the party did not enter into the amus.e.m.e.nt with more spirit and gaiety. Montmorency is a charming place, but not so the road to it, which, being paved, is very tiresome.