We found a nice open carriage waiting for us at the door of the Palace and drove off to Drottningholm, one of the Royal residences on Lake Malar. The drive was charming, through pretty green country, and as soon as we came near the Lake, villas (generally white) in every direction. We crossed various little arms of the lake before we arrived at the Château. It is an enormous pile, and stands very well in a large park. The Governor, a fine old soldier (who rather reminded me of Marshal MacMahon), was waiting for us with his son, and showed us everything. The rooms are large and bright and exceedingly simple. It seems the Royal Family are very fond of the place. There is so much room that they can have as many people staying as they like, and they all live on the water. We drove through the park, and saw the Governor's villa, not far from the Palace. As we had been going since 10 o'clock the idea of tea was not disagreeable, so we consulted our coachman (at least Mathias did, as we couldn't talk), and he told us there was a good little café in the park, at one end, far from the Château, where the public were allowed, so we stopped there and had a very good cup of tea. It was cool and green, and we rather liked sitting there with the lake before us in the drowsy quiet of a summer afternoon. However we had to get back to Stockholm, as W. had to make a visit to the Ministre des Affaires Étrangères. He sent him word just as we were starting that the King would receive him to-morrow at one o'clock. He must also see if he can borrow anywhere a Swedish grand cordon. He sent all his decorations back to Paris with his uniform, quite forgetting that he might want some on his way home, and they tell him he must have his, that the King is very particular about such matters, and wouldn't be at all pleased if he presented himself without his order. Patenôtre's is no good, as it isn't the same order.

We left W. the carriage and walked home, stopping and looking at all the shop windows. I don't know that there is much to buy, but we are going on a real shopping expedition to-morrow morning. Mathias showed us some queer old streets and houses and a famous shop where there were all sorts of fishing outfits. He is very anxious that we should go on to Norway, see Christiania and some of the famous fiords. He says the country is much finer than any part of Sweden, and there is much more "couleur locale." It is just the season for it. I should like it extremely, but I am afraid W. won't. He wants to get home, and must stay three or four days at Copenhagen, where there is a fine collection of medals.

Now I am sitting writing at the window, waiting until it is time to dress for dinner at the Legation. The river is a perpetual enjoyment, always something going on. A big boat has just put off from the American man-of-war. The men look a fine sturdy lot, and come up in great style with a good, long stroke. They attract much attention, for as soon as the boat left the ship a little crowd gathered and watched their progress.

Here is W., who enjoyed his visit to the minister very much—found him easy and intelligent, and much interested in the Coronation. They will send him a plaque and a ribbon from the jewellers, so he will be quite correct to-morrow. Adelaïde is much disturbed because I have neither fine dress nor jewels for the dinner to-night. It really is not of the slightest consequence, as I am the only lady (Patenôtre is a bachelor), and we are going to the gardens afterwards. I shall wear Delannoy's blue and white striped silk, half long, and take my hat in my hand, as it must go on for our outing.

12 o'clock.

We have just come in from our dinner, which was pleasant and very good, merely the three, Mathias, Patenôtre, and one of his secretaries, M. de Bondy. The house is large, nice, and looks very pretty, as the Minister has been both in China and Persia and has brought back some beautiful things, carpets, tentures, and curios of all kinds. He evidently didn't find Pekin a very pleasant or healthy residence, says the cold is something awful. He likes Stockholm, says the Swedes are pleasant, kindly people, lead simple lives, and do all they can to make it pleasant for the Corps Diplomatique. There are few large fortunes—very little life, and little private entertaining. The Court gives several balls and dinners every year.

About 8.30 we went off to the gardens and restaurant Haselbach, where all the beau monde of Stockholm assembles in summer, but the season is over and there were not many people there—of Society; people there were, plenty. The gardens are large, well lighted, a very good band was playing, and everyone walking up and down the broad allées, or seated at little tables with tea and punch. We sat there about an hour. Patenôtre pointed out various notabilities to us, but said he didn't know many people.

Now we are discussing routes with maps and books. We shall start for Copenhagen to-morrow night viâ Malmo, and must send in the morning to engage our sleepings. It is a long journey. We leave here at 8.30, and don't get to Copenhagen until 4.30 the next day.

Tuesday, June 26th.

It is lovely again this morning. Richard and I and Mathias have been wandering about the streets shopping. There isn't much to buy—Norwegian knives with carved wooden handles in a leather case, Scandinavian charms, buckles, and brooches roughly worked, but rather pretty and curious shapes—furs, too, of course, but we didn't want any more. I was rather tempted by a large white stuffed bear. I thought it would look so well in the hall in the country; but of course the only reason to have a bear in the house is when you shot it yourself, and that was not possible in the streets of Stockholm in the month of June. The day is divine—sky blue and water dancing. The whole aspect of the place is much gayer than anything we saw in Russia. People don't look sad or preoccupied; there are always badauds hanging over the bridges and exchanging jokes or remarks with the watermen.