"Not in the least," Nina answered.
"In this one," he remarked, "I look as if I had just ordered some one to be hanged. And this one [taking up another] looks like a Parsifal de passage"—referring to something I had once said.
"I did not say Parsifal, your Majesty. I said Lohengrin."
"All the same thing," said he.
"Not at all," I said. "One was a knight, and the other was a fool."
"Well," he laughed, "I look like both."
He did not like any of the photographs, and sent to the Hohenzollern for his own collection. His servant came back almost directly (he must have had wings) and brought a quantity of portraits, which were much finer and larger than those from the shops. He begged us to choose the one we liked best, and he wrote something amusing on it and signed his name.
BERLIN, January, 1906.
Dear ____,—The sad news of the death of our adored old King arrived this evening. We were very surprised, as the last account we had heard of him seemed more hopeful. Though he was so very old (eighty-six years), he had a wonderful constitution and always was so active. I am glad that I saw him when he was here last year and had such a pleasant afternoon with him.
Johan was one of the pall-bearers at the King's funeral at Roskilde. I did not go on to Copenhagen. There was a funeral service here at the Scandinavian chapel. We are to have mourning for six months.