Already were the carpets—and such carpets, too—laid down on the salons; the curtains were hung; consoles, sofas, tables, and chairs placed, and lustres suspended. In short, the rooms looked perfectly habitable.
The principal drawing-room has a carpet of dark crimson with a gold-coloured border, on which is a wreath of flowers that looks as if newly culled from the garden, so rich, varied, and bright are their hues. The curtains are of crimson satin, with embossed borders of gold-colour; and the sofas, bergères, fauteuils, and chairs, richly carved and gilt, are covered with satin to correspond with the curtains.
Gilt consoles, and chiffonnières, with white marble tops, are placed wherever they could be disposed; and, on the chimney pieces, are fine pendules.
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, bergères, 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 Sèvre china, and ruby glass.
I was told by the upholsterer, that he had pledged himself to milord that miladi was not to see her chambre à 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 Hôtel Ney?
The Duc and Duchesse 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, balls, concerts, and soirées, 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,"