[Paris—Thursday, 8 December 1859]
Thursday 8th Exquisite day. Walked out early hoping to see the little prince at play. Wandered into the old city through the Faubourg St. Germain gazing into the fine green courtyards disclosed by creaking back of the old gates as if asking in the genial sunlight. Returning we drove out to the Bois de Boulogne. The ways were crowded with magnificent carriages of every description. We were hardly on our route when the clatter of horses hoofs caused us to turn just in time to salute the imperial infant and admire his picturesque retinue. The little fellow nodded to us from the window as he passed. Soon the Empress passed also with her sweet pale face and before we reached home passed again bowing to us gracefully as she went. We drove to see the Roman Villa of Prince Napoleon and the famous Gymnase of Trist (wonderful indeed and quite as interesting to me as the Ravels) before our return. It was quite dark when we arrived. The moon was rising, the stars bright—all so unlike Paris.
