Monday Evening
We had a pleasant luncheon at Chapultepec restaurant, on the veranda—von Hintze, Kanya de Kanya, Stalewski, the Bonillas, Courts, Strawbensie (the young naval officer up from the Essex, who is supposed to be training the British colony volunteers), Lady C., von Papen, and ourselves; de Bertier, the French military attaché, did not materialize. They think, apropos of Torreon (“the key of the south,” for the rebels; “the key of the north,” for the Federals), that the Federals may have been obliged to evacuate it and are now fighting to get it back. Any one seems able to take Torreon, and no one seems able to hold it.