laint 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 Hotel 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 soirees, 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,"

and will, I doubt not, conciliate the esteem of all with whom they come
in contact.

He is so well bred, that the men pardon his superiority both of person
and manner; and she is so warm-hearted and amiable, that the women,
with a few exceptions, forgive her rare beauty. How we shall miss them,
and the dear children, too!

Drove in the Bois de Boulogne yesterday, with the Duchesse de Guiche:
met my old acquaintance, Lord Yarmouth, who is as amusing and original
as ever.

He has great natural talent and knowledge of the world, but uses both
to little purpose, save to laugh at its slaves. He might be any thing
he chose, but he is too indolent for exertion, and seems to think _le
jeu ne vaut pas la chandelle_. He is one of the many clever people
spoilt by being born to a great fortune and high rank, advantages which
exclude the necessity of exercising the talents he possesses.

It is, however, no trifling merit, that born to immense wealth and high
station, he should he wholly free from arrogance, or ostentation.

At length, the secret is out, the doors of my _chambre a coucher_ and
dressing-room are opened, and I am delighted with both. The whole
fitting up is in exquisite taste, and, as usual, when my most gallant
of all gallant husbands that it ever fell to the happy lot of woman to
possess, interferes, no expense has been spared.

The bed, which