There was, indeed, something democratic about the
hospitalities of the Elysee. When the wife of an
English Foreign Minister issues 2500 invitations to a
reception on the Queen's Birthday, the limits of the
gregarious are thought to have been reached. But the
invitations to a reception at the Elysee have been known
to exceed 6000. It is a spacious palace, though the
corridors are rather narrow, but hardly spacious enough
to give 6000 guests ample room for circulation, or for
the dance which follows. In one point it was not
democratic. Certain rooms were set apart for diplo-
matists and other distinguished personages. Into these
the democracy might not penetrate, and there were
occasionally signs that they resented their exclusion.
They need not have resented it. The diplomatists
were packed almost as tightly as the rest. Diploma-
tists and democracy had, moreover, the same recep-
tion from the President and lime. Carnot. The pa-
tience of the Presidential host and hostess was admirable,
and so was their evident effort to convey to each unit
of these thronging thousands, personally unknown most
of them, the impression that he or she was welcome,
and that their coming on such an occasion was a per-
sonal favour. The French passion for equality was
gratified to the full. It was impossible that these huge
crushes should be what was called brilliant. They had
a better use. They gave pleasure to those whom they
were intended to please. And they afforded an excellent
opportunity to the American on her travels to see how
badly Frenchwomen of the middle class can dress when
they try.
