t at the
great opening ceremony in fact. This was a very grand affair, but
with--for him--a ludicrous climax. Coming away, he and his secretary
lost their carriage in the crowd, and had to walk the whole way home,
not a cab being obtainable--and this, too, in elaborate and heavy
uniforms, and at the risk of being hooted by _gamins_. But by good
luck, in those days gold lace and medals were so plentiful that they
attracted no embarrassing attention.

[Illustration: SIR ROBERT HART IN 1878.]

Numberless functions, of course, took place in connection with the
Exhibition, and scarcely a night passed without some gigantic official
reception at which two or three thousand people were present. The
Minister of Education, for example, gave a magnificent _soiree_ at
which the old dances, the stately minuet and the graceful pavane, were
danced in splendid and appropriate costumes. Bernhardt, then at the
height of her powers, recited one night at the Elysee; so also did
Coquelin. But to Robert Hart these "crushes" were often an ordeal.
Conventional entertainments never had a great attraction for him;
besides, these gatherings were really too big for any one's comfort or
pleasure; conversation was nearly impossible, and nobody felt at home.

What he did enjoy was a drive in the beautiful Bois with his children,
from whom, for the sake of their education, he had already been
separated for several years. Or else he liked to take them to the
many excellent concerts then being held. They often went to hear the
Norwegian singers who, so the advertisements said, had walked all the
way from their northern home in their quaint national costume, and
they scarcely missed a Wednesday at the Trocadero, where there were
contests of massed bands.

Music, in fact, would draw Robert Hart any day, for he loved it
dearly. Other people might talk learnedly about various schools and
tone poems; he took all he could get silently and with a thankful
heart; and because in far-away Peking he could not count upon others
playing for him, he performed the prodigious feat of learning to play
both violin and 'cello himself without a teacher, and long after he
was a man grown.

Just before the Exhibition closed, all the fine blackwood furniture of
the Chinese pavilion was presented to the Marechale MacMahon. The
I.G. had to make a speech on this occasion, which he greatly dreaded,
having none of that love of getting on his feet that is characteristic
of t