When their Majesties were ready to dismiss us they bowed, and we all departed to get our hats and wraps,

I gave a lingering look at the lovely rooms I was leaving, which were now devoid of our trunks and little personal trinkets, nodded a farewell to our particular valet, who was probably thinking already of our successors, descended l'Escalier d'honneur, and passed through the beautiful Galerie des Gardes to the colonnades, where the chars-à-bancs were ready waiting to carry us to the station. We were a rather subdued party in the train; the conversation mostly turned on the subject of pourboires. The huissier decides the exact amount that each ought to give. For instance, he knows an ambassador ought to give two thousand francs. For a minister of state one thousand francs suffices. Unofficial people like ourselves cannot be expected to be out of pocket more than six hundred francs. As for the poor nobility of France, they escape with five hundred!

Some were of opinion that it was pleasanter to give en masse, in one big sum, than to give in driblets; others thought it more satisfactory to hand one's offering personally to the different servants; but we all, with one voice, voted the officious beadle an imposition.

The daily expenses of Compiègne, so the Gouverneur de la Maison told us, and he ought to know, are not less than ten thousand francs a day, and there are more than nine hundred people living in the Palace at a time, to be fed and warmed.

To-day, at five o'clock, the fourth série will come; it is called la série des oubliés, as ours was called la série élégante. The first is called la série obligatoire, the second les ennuyeux.

We found our carriage at the station. Our simple coupé seemed a great come-down from the beautiful carriages we had been driving in, and good Louis and the footman, in their quiet liveries, seemed in fierce contrast to the gorgeous creatures we had been familiar with so lately.

The family is at Petit Val, and we remain there quietly until January.

We found among our belongings an enormous bourriche, containing a quantity of game, hares, pheasants, and so forth.

Good night! I am tired.

PARIS, 1867.