and the Duchesse d'Angouleme and Monsieur much better than we had done
the Sunday before, with all the trouble of getting a ticket for
admission into the Chapel, and being squeezed to death into the bargain.
His Majesty is more like a Turtle than anything else, and shows external
evidence of his great affection for Turtle soup. His walk is quite
curious. One of his most intimate friends says that in spite of his
devotion _Le Roi est un peu philosophe_. We staid on Monday to see a
review. Donald introduced us to a Mr. and Mrs. Boyd, who have lived in
France the last 14 years, and have a terrace that overlooks the
Boulevards, so there we sat very commodiously and saw the King and the
Duchesses de Berri and Angouleme, in an open Caleche, pass through the
double row of troops which lined the Boulevards from one end to the
other, and a beautiful sight it was. Mr. Boyd invited me to a party at
his house in the country, and in the hopes of seeing that _rara avis_, a
French lady or gentleman, I said yes. So I sent for a hairdresser, who
came post haste, and amused me with his _politesse_, and Edward with his
_politique_. I was quite sorry I could not have him again.

We dined with the Murrays, and then went on to Mr. Boyd, where I found
myself the only lady there dressed amongst about forty. That is to say,
their heads and tails were all in morning costume and mine in
evening....

I must go back one more day, and tell you how I went to be described for
a passport to La Force on Saturday, and how I thought Mr. Bruce more of
a hero young man than any I have ever seen. I recollect seeing him
before, and thinking him a coxcomb, but a few years have mellowed all
that into a very fine young man.

Making every allowance for seeing him in his dungeon in La Force, I
think you would be delighted with his countenance. He spoke his
sentiments with manly freedom, and yet with the liberality of one who
thinks it possible a man may differ from him without being a fool, or a
rascal. Lucy and Louisa would certainly have fallen in love with his
fine Roman head, which his prison costume of a great coat and no
neckcloth showed to great advantage.

And now, adieu Paris! At 2 o'clock on Wednesday a green coach, which
none of you could see without ten minutes' laughing at least--three
horses and a postillion! (what would I give just to drive up to
Winnington with the whole equipage!)--carried us to Versailles, and
there I longed for Louis XIV.