I had quite a talk with Sibbern, the
Swedish minister, who was very friendly and sympathetic, not only at our
leaving the Foreign Office, but at the extreme discomfort of moving in
such frightfully cold weather. He was wrapped in furs, as if he were
going to the North Pole. However, I assured him we were quite warm and
comfortable, gradually settling down into our old ways, and I was
already looking back on my two years at the Quai d'Orsay as an agreeable
episode in my life. I had quite a talk too with the Portuguese minister,
Mendes Leal. He was an interesting man, a poet and a dreamer, saw more,
I fancy, of the literary world of Paris than the political. Blowitz was
there, of course--was always everywhere in moments of crisis, talking a
great deal, and letting it be understood that he had pulled a great many
wires all those last weeks. He too regretted that W. had not taken the
London Embassy, assured me that it would have been a very agreeable
appointment in England--was surprised that I hadn't urged it. I replied
that I had not been consulted. Many people asked when they could come
and see me--would I take up my reception day again? That wasn't worth
while, as I was going away so soon, but I said I would be there every
day at five o'clock, and always had visits.
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