The following evening, the Darcys were offered seats in the d’Estrouville’s box at the Paris opera, at L’Académie Royale de Musique. They arrived through streets filled with animated, elegant crowds to the façade of the opera house, overlooking the magnificent entrance to the Bibliothèque Nationale. Passing through the open gates and foyer, they entered the auditorium, which was so large as to provide seating for many thousands. The boxes behind the white balconies were a deep green, and the ceiling panels included designs of crowns, stars, and bees, which surrounded the central head of Apollo. Despite the increasing popularity of gas-light in England, the Paris opera was still lit by Argand lamps (most likely in deference to the fact that these items were of French invention), whose light could cast only a small distance, so that the usual pastime of examining the occupants of the other boxes was all but impossible. The stage, however, was well-lit, and from their box, the Darcys had a clear view of the orchestra beneath the stage. The renown of Kreutzer, the conductor, was such that Georgiana had especially wished to hear his orchestra, considered to be one of the finest in Europe. Tonight’s performance was to be Glûck’s “Iphigénie” and included a fine pas de ballet.

The Darcys had been forewarned by the concierge that, in Paris, the sole purpose of attending the opera was to be seen, and not to regard the performance, but they were unprepared for the singular behaviour of the audience. They had arrived—they believed—unconscionably late to the box, but found themselves the only persons so placed, and their host and hostess were nowhere to be seen! Every seat had been reserved by the expedient of placing an hand-kerchief belonging to the occupant on the seat, who then determinedly spent until the last possible moment promenading up and down the lobby and corridors in an effort to display their toilette to best advantage. As the orchestra began, the patrons glided to their seats, completely ignoring all requests for silence, halloo’ing gaily to every acquaintance across the immense room. All but a few of the most important scenes of the opera were little attended-to, for the audience were far more occupied with the appearance of their associés de conversation than any other aspect of the performance.