The château is a bijou. It has a winding staircase which is worthy of Blois. We mounted this to go to the supper-room. The supper was served at small tables, and was excellent. Frederikke danced the cotillion, and we stayed until the end. It had indeed been a long day for me. The next day we drove to the château and bid their Highnesses good-by.
BERLIN, 1904.
Dear L.,—At one of the Towers's costume balls Mr. X, of American renown, dressed conspicuously as Jupiter (of all ironies!), stalked about, trying to act up to his part by shaking in people's faces his ridiculous tin bolts held in white kid-glove hands, and facetiously knocking them on the head. He happened, while talking to a lady, to be right in front of the young Prince. A friend tapped him discreetly on the shoulder, giving him a significant look. "What is the matter?" said Mr. X, in a loud voice, glaring at his friend. A gentle whisper informed him that he had better turn round and face the Prince. "Heavens!" said the ungracious Jupiter. "I can't help it; I'm always treading on their toes" (meaning the Prince's).
Speaking of indiscretions, I was told (I cannot say whether it is true) that Mrs. Z, one of our compatriots, having met the Emperor in Norway, where their yachts were stationed, and feeling that she was on familiar enough terms, said to him:
"Is it not lovely in Paris? Have you been there lately?"
"No, I have not," answered the surprised Kaiser.
"Oh, how queer! You ought to go there. The French people would just love to see you."
"Do you think so?" said the Emperor with a smile.
Thus encouraged, she enlarged on her theme, and, speaking for the whole French nation, continued, gushingly, "And if you would give them back Alsace and Lorraine they would simply adore you."
The Kaiser, looking at her gravely, as if she had solved a mighty problem, said, "I never thought of that, madame."