After luncheon she invited me to the floor above to see her study. She explained that she did her best work in a little cell-like room in the monastery below the hill near the Palace, which we had visited the day before. There she was most free from disturbance of any kind. Her study in the Palace was comfortable and attractively furnished; not large, but cozy. Looking out of the windows, one saw the terraced Italian gardens and the wooded peaks of the Carpathian Mountains beyond. The low bookcases which lined the four walls contained English, French, and German books in exquisite bindings. At her desk were three typewriters, respectively from England, France, and Germany, for use in writing the languages of those countries. She used them herself, according to the language in which the inspiration of the moment had come. She presented me with a volume of poems and one of essays, both in German, "Meine Ruhe" and "Mein Penatenwinkel," which she inscribed for me.

We went through the Palace that afternoon. It is modern and very beautiful, furnished in excellent taste, and not cold and uncomfortable, sacrificed to grandeur, as most palaces seem to be. Then the King and Queen invited us to return the next morning at eleven, to a musicale and luncheon.

Next day after luncheon the King left the other guests and took me into a small adjoining room where we smoked and had coffee. Knowing that I had been Secretary of Commerce and Labor, he led the conversation to economic questions, which he said interested him most. He expressed surprise that we had not come to state ownership of railways, which he believed was the only way to regulate them. I explained our method of regulating them, but he thought that method more socialistic and arbitrary than in his own country. We talked of the Roosevelt policies and their general aim at social justice. He said he regretted very much that Roosevelt had not visited Roumania, for he had the greatest admiration for him, both as man and as statesman.

Our conversation ran on to the Jewish question, and the King spoke most sympathetically of the Jews, saying that they were patriotic subjects and good soldiers, that there was no religious prejudice against them, and that the Jewish question in Roumania was purely economic. The Jews who came in from Russia and Poland constituted separate communities in the country, with foreign methods of living, foreign language, and foreign views. I told him that in the most enlightened countries there was an absence of the Jewish problem because no problem was created by treating the Jews as separate groups with restricted rights. He saw that point, but explained that Roumania was right next to Russia where the Jews were most oppressed. If, therefore, Roumania accorded them full rights, there would be a flood of immigration much larger than they were then getting. I pointed out that it would be much better to restrict immigration than to restrict the natural rights of the Jews of Roumania. That thought impressed him, and he said he realized that, under the system they then had, much injustice was done which brought disgrace to the kingdom, but he hoped a remedy would be worked out.

We spoke of the United States Postal Savings legislation, of which he requested an outline, and thought it could be adopted by Roumania with advantage.

A few days later we again lunched with the King and Queen. The Queen mentioned the bit of poetry I had given her a few days before and asked whether I could give her another. Something had been said about Hay's Roumanian note that brought to mind the last stanza of Hay's hymn:

Wherever man oppresses man, Beneath the setting sun, O Lord, be there, thine arm make bare, Thy righteous will be done.

The Queen admired these lines and begged me to write them out, which I did on the back of one of my visiting-cards. She put the card in her reticule, saying that the lines would inspire a poem some day, and that she would then send it to me.

Referring to her work generally, she spoke of her indebtedness to Professor Michael Bernays, the distinguished Jewish scholar, who was a frequent and welcome visitor at the home of her parents. She said he was the most modest and intellectual person she had ever known, and his conversations and teachings had greatly influenced her intellectual and spiritual life. She asked me to read her estimate of this wonderful man in her book of essays that she had given me. I have since read it several times, and it would surprise many to read such a eulogy and vindication of the Jews and Judaism by the Queen of a country where the Jews were so sorely oppressed by drastic discrimination.

Before we left Sinaia, the Queen sent me a large photograph of herself, inscribed: "Never mind deep waters, there are pearls to be found. Elizabeth. Sinaia, September, 1910."