Queen—till they go to bed: a flowing stream of information.
In spite of all this sad state of affairs the winter passed for me like a dream.
My friends Monsieur et Madame de Saint-Pair, a charming distinguished couple, were kindness itself to me, and it was not long before I got to know all the corps diplomatique. I was invited on their reception days and to their parties, and of course those of a great number of Russians.
On Mondays I dined and spent the evening at the French Embassy. Tuesdays the German Embassy received in the evenings. Thursdays it was Belgium's turn, and so on; added to which there were afternoon receptions and luncheons and dinners—not a single day passed without my being engaged from morning till morning again.
I got dreadfully spoilt.
I was often taken to the Russian Opera at the Théâtre Marie; the performance was very good, and Madame Litvinne one of the great attractions. Even in those days she was very stout, but less vast than when last I saw her in Paris. The lady seemed to realize that she displayed herself to better advantage by maintaining a front towards the audience than by exhibiting herself in profile.
She had married a Polish Count.
Those who respected themselves, and there were many whose desire it was to do so, had their stall at the ballet.
