The moment the King of Siam was confronted by this portrait he exclaimed in surprise:
“How did the uniform come here? Where did you get it?”
“Oh,” I replied, “we purchased it.”
“Whom did you get it from?” the King of Siam persisted. “From the Shahzada himself?”
The information was imparted that the elaborate costume had been offered to us by a member of the Shahzada’s suite, who took a keen personal interest in the transaction, and gave us to understand that his royal master would prefer that the portrait should not wear his own clothes till after his departure from this country.
We complied with this condition, and while writing these reminiscences the gorgeous apparel of the Afghan Prince lies heaped in a corner of my studio, having been brought out that I may again for a moment gaze upon its faded glories of purple and gold; for the portrait of the Shahzada has long since been removed from its pedestal.
The King of Siam was a very decorous and unassuming little gentleman, who gave no hint of disappointment that his own portrait did not appear in the collection, while I wondered, as I walked with him, whether he regretted or welcomed the omission.
As we came face to face with the Shah of Persia, whose gorgeous habiliments glittered with a veritable firmament of jewels, the King again harped upon the question of the Shahzada’s clothes.
Looking hard at the “lion” of a former season, the King exclaimed:
“His own clothes, too, I suppose?”