During the spring, my father went to Ireland as special commissioner of
the _Illustrated London News_ and the _Pall Mall Gazette_, in order to
investigate the condition of the tenantry and the agrarian crimes which
were then so prevalent there. Meantime, I was left in Paris, virtually "on
my own," though I was often with my elder brother Edward. About this time,
moreover, a friend of my father's began to take a good deal of interest in
me. This was Captain the Hon. Dennis Bingham, a member of the Clanmorris
family, and the regular correspondent of the _Pall Mall Gazette_ in Paris.
He subsequently became known as the author of various works on the
Bonapartes and the Bourbons, and of a volume of recollections of Paris
life, in which I am once or twice mentioned. Bingham was married to a very
charming lady of the Laoretelle family, which gave a couple of historians
to France, and I was always received most kindly at their home near the
Arc de Triomphe. Moreover, Bingham often took me about with him in my
spare time, and introduced me to several prominent people. Later, during
the street fighting at the close of the Commune in 1871, we had some
dramatic adventures together, and on one occasion Bingham saved my life.

The earlier months of 1870 went by very swiftly amidst a multiplicity of
interesting events. Emile Ollivier had now become chief Minister, and an
era of liberal reforms appeared to have begun. It seemed, moreover, as if
the Minister's charming wife were for her part intent on reforming the
practices of her sex in regard to dress, for she resolutely set her face
against the extravagant toilettes of the ladies of the Court, repeatedly
appearing at the Tuileries in the most unassuming attire, which, however,
by sheer force of contrast, rendered her very conspicuous there. The
patronesses of the great _couturiers_ were quite irate at receiving such a
lesson from a _petite bourgeoise_; but all who shared the views expressed
by President Dupin a few years previously respecting the "unbridled luxury