W. said the marshal was very civil to him, but it was evident that he
could not stand Jules Simon any longer and the various measures that he
felt were impending. We had many visitors after breakfast, all much
excited, wondering what the next step would be--if the Chambers would be
dissolved, the marshal trying to impose a cabinet of the Right or
perhaps form another moderate liberal cabinet without Jules Simon, but
retaining some of his ministers. It was my reception afternoon, and
while I was sitting quietly in my drawing-room talking to some of my
friends, making plans for the summer, quite pleased to have W. to
myself again, the butler hurried into the room telling me that the
Marechale de MacMahon was on the stairs, coming to make me a visit. I
was very much surprised, as she never came to see me. We met very
rarely, except on official occasions, and she made no secret of her
dislike to the official Republican ladies (but she was always absolutely
correct if not enthusiastic). I had just time to get to the head of the
stairs to receive her. She was very amiable, a little embarrassed, took
a cup of tea--said the marshal was very sorry to part with W., he had
never had any trouble or disagreement with him of any kind, but that it
was impossible to go on with a cabinet when neither party had any
confidence in the other. I quite agreed, said it was the fortunes of
war; I hoped the marshal would find another premier who would be more
sympathetic with him, and then we talked of other things.

My friends were quite amused. One of them, Marquise de T., knew the
Marechale quite well, and said she was going to ask her if she was
obliged to make visites de condoleance to the wives of all the fallen
ministers. W. was rather astonished when I told him who had come to tea
with me, and thought the conversation must have been difficult. I told
him, not at all, once the necessary phrases about the departing
ministers were over. The piano was open, music littered about; she was