I hear so much good of the Duc and Duchesse d'O—— that I feel a lively interest in them, and heartily wish they may never be elevated (unless by the natural demise of the legitimate heirs) to the dangerous height to which —— and others assert they will ultimately ascend. Even in the contingency of a legitimate inheritance of the crown, the Tuileries would offer a less peaceful couch to them than they find in the blissful domestic circle at N——.
A long visit from the Duc de T——. I never meet him without being reminded of the truth of an observation of a French writer, who says—"On a vu des gens se passer d'esprit en sachant mêler la politesse avec des manières nobles et élégantes." The Duc de T—— passes off perfectly well without esprit, the absence of which his noble manners perfectly conceal; while ——, who is so very clever, makes one continually conscious of his want of good breeding and bon ton.
Finished reading Sayings and Doings, by Mr. Theodore Hook. Every page teems with wit, humour, or pathos, and reveals a knowledge of the world under all the various phases of the ever-moving scene that gives a lively interest to all he writes. This profound acquaintance with human life, which stamps the impress of truth on every character portrayed by his graphic pen, has not soured his feelings or produced that cynical disposition so frequently engendered by it.
Mr. Hook is no misanthrope, and while he exposes the ridiculous with a rare wit and humour he evinces a natural and warm sympathy with the good. He is a very original thinker and writer, hits off characters with a facility and felicity that few authors possess, and makes them invariably act in accordance with the peculiar characteristics with which he has endowed them. The vraisemblance is never for a moment violated, which makes the reader imagine he is perusing a true narration instead of a fiction.
House-hunting to-day. Went again over the Hôtel Monaco, but its dilapidated state somewhat alarms us. The suite of reception rooms are magnificent, but the garden into which they open pleases me still more, for it is vast and umbrageous. The line old hôtels in the Faubourg St.-Germain, and this is one of the finest, give one a good idea of the splendour of the noblesse de l'ancien régime. The number and spaciousness of the apartments, the richness of the decorations, though no longer retaining their pristine beauty, and above all, the terraces and gardens, have a grand effect.
CHAPTER XIX.
House-hunting all the day with Lord B——. Went again over the Hôtel Monaco, and abandoned the project of hiring it. Saw one house newly built and freshly and beautifully decorated, which I like, but Lord B—— does not think good enough. It is in the Rue de Matignon. It is so desirable to get into a mansion where every thing is new and in good taste, which is the case with the one in question, that I hope Lord B—— will be satisfied with this.
Sat an hour with General d'O—— who has been unwell. Never was there such a nurse as his wife, and so he said. Illness almost loses its irksomeness when the sick chamber is cheered by one who is as kind as she is clever. Madame d'O—— is glad we have not taken the Hôtel Monaco, for she resided in it a long time when it was occupied by her mother, and she thinks the sleeping-rooms are confined and gloomy.
"After serious consideration and mature deliberation," we have finally decided on taking the house in the Rue de Matignon. It will be beautiful when completed, but nevertheless not to be compared to the Hôtel Ney. The salons de réception, are very good, and the decorations are rich and handsome.
The large salon is separated from the lesser by an immense plate of unsilvered glass, which admits of the fireplaces in each room (they are vis-à-vis) being seen, and has a very good effect. A door on each side this large plate of glass opens into the smaller salon. The portion of the house allotted to me will, when completed, be like fairy land. A salon, destined to contain my buhl cabinets, porcelaine de Sèvres, and rare bijouterie, opens into a library by two glass-doors, and in the pier which divides them is a large mirror filling up the entire space.