When I called on Miss Helen Gladstone I found that she already expected my visit, and had heard a great deal not only about me, but about the Old Catholic question.
"Yes," she said, "my brother is quite a superior man. But if you knew what an original he is! For instance, once when he was travelling abroad already in his capacity of Prime Minister, his wife desired him to take a drive and off they went. But what vehicle do you think they took? A little one-horsed cart, just as if they were two paupers sent on some business!"
"Don't you think it is natural," said I, "for a man like Mr. Gladstone, who has so many grand ideas and splendid schemes, to pay no attention to the trivialities of this conventional world? Let me tell you what happened to us once, when the Gladstones and myself met at Munich. We went to a Museum, the President of which was very anxious to make the 'honneurs' of some very rare specimens. He showed us a certain dish, and seemed particularly proud of it. Your brother took it in his hand, examined it very carefully, and then said: 'But you know, Professor, this is not genuine. In a genuine dish there would be here a special little mark that is not to be found here,' The President actually turned pale—would you believe it?"
Dear Miss Gladstone seemed quite charmed with this story. "Oh, how like him!" she exclaimed. "He knows everything. But you promised to tell me something more about him," she pressed.
"Well," I said, "my second recollection refers to our meeting in Paris. When I arrived there the celebrated politician and journalist, Emile de Girardin, asked me to a large dinner party that he was giving. A few days before this event, I heard of the Gladstones' arrival in Paris and mentioned it to Monsieur de Girardin, with the suggestion how nice it would be if he were to invite them also. My old Frenchman was delighted. 'Oh, do try to arrange that!' he exclaimed; 'I do not know them personally, but have always longed to make their acquaintance. I shall send you the list of all my guests, and hope you will try to ascertain whom they would like to meet, and whom to avoid.' This was an easy task, and I fulfilled it. Mr. Gladstone said: 'I would very much like to meet your brother, General Kiréeff (who had already been invited), and the Contributor of the Revue des Deux Mondes, Scherer'—(Scherer was a celebrated senator, politician and literary critic). It so happened that by chance I knew some of his work, and was delighted at the prospect of this meeting. But Mr. Gladstone frankly admitted that he would not like to meet Gambetta. This desire was also observed at the end of the dinner; one of the guests addressed a long speech of welcome to Mr. Gladstone, of course in French. But just fancy my surprise, when Mr. Gladstone rose and answered, also in French, to the delight of the whole assembly. No one had suspected that he possessed such a mastery of the French language. As to my brother, who took Miss Helen Gladstone in to dinner, they turned out to be both great admirers of Botticelli and well agreed on their favourite subject."
Dear old Miss Gladstone seemed delighted with all these details about her relations, and pressed me to prolong my visit, which I did to the point of losing my train!
CHAPTER V
SOME SOCIAL MEMORIES
My Thursdays in Russia—Khalil Pasha's Death—Lord Napier and the Lady-in-Waiting—Madame Volnys—My Parents-in-law's ménage—An Exceptional Type—Prince Vladimir Dolgorouki's Embarrassment—The Grand Duchess Helen—A Brilliant Woman—The Emperor's Enjoyment—The Campbell-Bannermans—A Royal Diplomatist—Mark Twain on Couriers—In Serious Vein—Verestchagin—"The Retreat from Moscow"—The Kaiser's Remarkable Utterance