Lafayette's neat, simple apartment in a hotel of some pretension was in the rue d'Anjou. There were a large antechamber, two salons, and an inner room, where he wrote, and finally had his bed. His town servants were his German valet, Bastien, who served during the last visit to America, a footman, and a coachman. Cooper wrote: "When I show myself at the door Bastien makes a signal of
assent, intimates that the general is at dinner; but I am at once ushered into the bed-room. Here I find Lafayette at table—so small as to be covered with a napkin, his little white dog his only companion." It was understood that the guest had dined, so he takes a seat in the chimney-corner, and as they talk the dinner goes on to its finish of dates, which are shared by the visitor. The last of these pleasant visits grew from the usual half hour to almost two, as they chatted of the great and small and all in their fine way. Lafayette thought Louis Philippe "the falsest man" he ever met. Of Charles X he "spoke kindly," giving him "an exactly opposite character," and Marie Antoinette he believed "an injured woman."
