Sunday we had a party and music at the French Embassy (Vatican). Diemor played beautifully, so did Teresina Tua. When they played together Griegg's sonata for piano and violin it was enchanting. All the Black world was there, and a good many strangers. Thursday, February 25th. We dined last night at the Wurts', who have a charming apartment in one of the finest old palaces (Anticci Mattei) in Rome. The staircase beautiful, most elaborately carved, really reminded me of Mont St. Michel. Their rooms are filled with all sorts of interesting things, the collection of years. The dinner was very pleasant--half Italian, half diplomatic. I have just come in from my audience with the Pope. I found the convocation when I got home last night. Bessie was rather disgusted at not having received hers, as we had planned to go together; but she said she would come with me. She would dress herself in regulation attire--long black dress and black veil--and take the chance. We had a mild humiliation as we got to the inner Court. The sentries would not let us pass. We had the small coupé, with one horse, and it seems one-horse vehicles are not allowed to enter these sacred precincts. We protested, saying we had a special audience, and that we couldn't get out on the muddy pavement, but it was no use; they wouldn't hear of our modest equipage going in, so we had to cross the court--quite a large one, and decidedly muddy--on foot, holding up our long dresses as well as we could. It seemed so natural to go up the great stone staircase, with a few Swiss guards in their striped red and yellow uniform standing about. We spoke to one man in Italian, asking him the way, and he replied in German. I fancy very few of them speak Italian. We passed through a good many rooms filled with all sorts of people: priests, officers, gardes nobles, women in black, evidently waiting for an audience, valets de chambre dressed in red damask, camerieri segreti in black velvet doublets, ruffs and gold chains and cross--a most picturesque and polyglot assemblage; one heard every language under the sun. We were passed on from one room to another, and finally came to a halt in a large square room, where there were more priests, one or two monsignori, in their violet robes, and two officers. I showed my paper, one of the monsignori, Bicletis (maestro di Casa di Sua Santità), came forward and said the Pope was expecting me; so then I presented Bessie, explained that her name had been sent in at the same time with mine, and that if she could be admitted (without the convocation) it would be a great pleasure to both of us to be received together. He said there would be no difficulty in that.