When the war broke out, the Grand Duke Constantine Constantinovich and his wife were in Germany. They were subjected to considerable mistreatment so that, a year after, he died. Father was furious when he received the report of the abuses from the Grand Duke himself. Grandmother also was passing through Germany at the outbreak of the war, and she, too, was subjected to the same indignities. The death of the Grand Duke Constantine was a great loss, not only to the family, but to all Russia. The Grand Duke was a most brilliant scholar, poet and patron of music and drama. He wrote plays, essays, poems, using a pseudonym. He translated _Hamlet_ into Russian. He wrote a play entitled _King of Judea_. It was a magnificent production, in which he took part. Even when his health was failing, he continued to promote the arts. The last production in which I saw him on the stage was _Hamlet_. He played the leading role of the Danish Prince himself. Some of his children had parts in it. During the last performance my family was present. Alexei sat with Mother in the front row and excitedly called out, “Mother, Mother, do you know that is Uncle Constantine! And that _there_ is an officer of the Guards?” Uncle Constantine sponsored a number of young people in music and drama. He had a theatre of his own and designed his own stage settings. He was deeply religious and brought up his family in the best Christian tradition. Despite his good life he suffered great misfortune. Shortly before he died, his son-in-law was killed in the war. Earlier, one of his sons, Prince Oleg, had been a battle casualty. While the Germans were retreating Oleg followed them on his horse when a wounded German officer played dead and shot him; he soon died in the hospital. The names of his children were all taken from early history. During the revolution, three more sons were brutally murdered, together with Aunt Ella, near Alapaevsk. I remember Aunt Mavra, Constantine’s wife, and one of her daughters having tea with us for the last time, shortly before the revolution. Always deeply religious, they crossed themselves for safe driving before they entered their car. Whoever could have known that we would never see one another again? Still Aunt Mavra lived through all the tragedy that befell her innocent family. Mother seldom came to the dinner table these days. She was served in one of her rooms and we joined her after the meal. At that time Father’s letters were read and reread. Usually there was a clever one from Alexei, too. His note was always so cheering to Mother that we hoped she could retain the mood till bedtime. To break the monotony, I planned on entertaining them, even though it made me feel sad rather than lighthearted, but, once I started, everybody began to laugh and we were soon all in the midst of great merriment.