xed
for the 20th of April. M. Crozier, the gentleman who introduces
Ambassadors and Ministers to the President, appeared with two
landaus, escorted by a detachment of the _Garde Nationale_.

The little courtyard of the hotel could not contain more than the
carriages; the horsemen were obliged to stay in the very narrow
rue Daunou, which they filled from one end to the other.

While the two gentlemen were exchanging their greetings I slipped
out and walked down the rue de la Paix, which I found barred from
the rue Daunou as far as the rue de Rivoli.

I felt very proud when I thought from whom it was barred.

I went into a shop while the brilliant _cortege_ was passing and,
feigning ignorance, asked the woman at the counter:

"What is this procession?"

"_Oh! C'est un de ces diplomates_" she said, shrugging her
shoulders.

I left the shop without buying anything--a paltry revenge on my
part; still it was a revenge.

We have found a suitable apartment in the rue Pierre Charron, and
I have just now begun to look up some of my old friends. Alas!
there are not many left, but those who are seem glad to see me. My
first official visit was to Madame Faure. This was easily managed.
I simply went on one of her reception-days. An Elysian master of
ceremonies was waiting for me, and I followed him into the _salon_
where Madame Faure sat, surrounded by numerous ladies. A servant
wrestled in vain with my name, "Crone" being the only thing he
seized, but the master of ceremonies announced to the President
that I was the Danish Minister's wife, after which things went
smoothly. To leave no doubt in the other guests' minds that I was
a person of distinction and the wife of a Minister Madame Faure
asked me innumerable questions about _Monsieur le Ministre_.

We were scarcely settled when there came the awful catastrophe of
the burning of the _Bazar de Charite_, about which you have
probably read. I had promised to go to it, and I can say that my
life literally hung on a thread, for if my _couturiere_ had kept
her word and sent my dress home at the time she promised I should
certainly have gone and would probably have been burned up with
the others. Marquise de Gallifet also owed her life to my not
going. She came to make me a visit and lingered a little. This
_little_ saved her life. She entered the fated bazar just a moment
before the fire broke out, and therefore managed to escape.

Frederikke and I drove to the offending