"How so?" asked the King, abruptly.
"When your Majesty was in Paris in 1867."
"That makes us very old friends," he said, smilingly.
Finally, when their Majesties had finished the circle, they met at the end of the ball-room; every one made a grande reverence, and they bowed graciously in response and withdrew.
We ladies, in walking out, allowed our manteaux to trail behind us. We entered the room where refreshments were served, and crowded around the buffet, which groaned under the weight of all sorts of good things. We drank one another's health and Happy New Year in champagne.
January, 1881.
Dear Mother,—You would never believe that my official duties weigh as heavily on me as they do. I received a letter from the Marquise Villamarina, saying that "her Gracious Sovereign would be pleased to receive me on the seventh at three o'clock." Therefore, dressed in my best, I drove to the Quirinal. It is so near our palace that I had hardly entered the carriage before I had to get out of it. The gorgeously dressed and long-bearded concierge who stood pompously at the entrance of the palace waved the carriage to the other end of the courtyard, and pounded his mace on the pavement in an authoritative manner.
I mounted the broad, winding staircase, went through the long gallery lined with lackeys, and reached the salon, where the Marquise Villamarina was waiting to receive me. After the usual greetings she said, "Sa Majesté vous attend," and led me through many salons to the one where the Queen was. I noticed, as we walked along, that the Marquise removed her right-hand glove, I took this as a hint that I should do the same. The Queen was standing when I entered the room. I made a deep courtesy before going in. She came forward and gave me her ungloved hand, over which I bowed deeply. The Marquise retired, leaving me alone with the Queen, who motioned me to sit beside her on the sofa. She spoke French, and so rapidly that I could hardly follow her. She was kindness itself, as affable and charming as one could possibly be, and put me at my ease immediately.
She had a little diamond ball hanging on a chain in the folds of her dress, the prettiest little watch I ever saw. After a half-hour, which passed like a flash, the Marquise reappeared in the doorway. This was a signal for me to take my leave. The Queen rose, gave me her hand, and said, "Good-by, Madame de Hegermann; I'm so glad to have you here in Rome."
I should have liked to kiss her hand, but I was told that the wife of a foreign minister never kisses the hand of any queen save her own.