The King of Sweden kept his word and really did come to Paris. A dinner for him at the Elysées included us (the only persons who were not French except the Swedish Legation). We are, as you know, what they call "une legation de famille." I was more than enchanted to see the King again. He promised to come and take tea with me the next day.
"Who would your Majesty care to meet?" I asked him.
"My old lady friends whom I used to know here before," the King answered.
"Your Majesty does not mean all of them—that would be a legion."
"No, no," he laughed. "Not all, only ..." and named several.
Every one came, although invited at the eleventh hour. It was a merry meeting, and such souveniring!
The King walked to my house accompanied by Herr Ancacronra, and the gentlemen whom the French government attached to his Majesty during his visit. They were surprised that a King should prefer walking through the streets to being driven in a landau from the Elysées.
The King brought several photographs, which he distributed to his friends, and, wishing to write his name on them, desired me to give him "a nice pen with a broad point." Oh dear! Not a "nice" pen could be found in the house! And one with a broad point did not exist. As for the ink, it was thick at the bottom and thin on the top. He had to stir it about each time he put the pen in.
I was more than mortified.
PARIS, 1899.