I had, as a matter of fact, come at Madame's request, who could make but little of the English newspapers, and thirsted for tidings from Paris.

The respectable Paris newspapers had one after the other been seized and stopped by the Commune, while the postal service had itself collapsed.
The Vicomtesse also wished for details of her own affairs, and had written to me respecting a sale of some property in order to raise ready money and pay off her debt towards myself.

It was with a view of discussing these questions that I had journeyed down to Hopton.

So at least I persuaded myself to believe, and knew, at the sight of Lucille among the gnarled old trees, that the self-deception was a thin one.
Alphonse had gone to France, being now released from his parole, so I was spared the sight of Lucille and him together.
Madame, however, would not allow me to make my report until we had dined, and we spent the intervening hour in talk of Paris, and the extraordinary events passing there.

The ladies, as indeed ladies mostly are, were staunch Royalists, and while evincing but little sympathy for the fallen Buonapartes, learnt with horror of the rise of Anarchy and Republicanism in Paris.
"My poor country," exclaimed Madame.