Our Harcourt dinner was pleasant. Sir William is charming--such an easy talker, with no pose of any kind. It is decided that Lady Harcourt presents me to the Queen. Lady Granville is away, and it falls upon her as wife of the Home Secretary. Sir William had been to Windsor, and had told the Queen of the curious coincidence--the French Ambassadress, an American, presented by the wife of the British Home Secretary, also an American,[8] and an amie d'enfance of Mrs. Waddington. I had some little difficulty in finding out what I was to wear (as there is little etiquette at the English Court upon these occasions), but they finally told me ordinary visiting dress, so I shall wear my blue velvet. We go down to lunch and see the Queen afterward. [8] Lady Harcourt is a daughter of the late John Lothrop Motley, the historian. December 7, 1883. I have had my audience to-day, and will write to you at once while I still remember it all. First I must tell you about Francis. He heard someone asking me the other day if I had been yet to see the Queen. I saw his face change a little, so when we were alone, he said, tremulously, "Tu vas voir la Reine?" "Oui, mon fils." "Est-elle toujours si mechante?" "Mais la Reine n'est pas mechante, mon enfant." "Elle ne vas pas te faire couper la tete?" Evidently his mind had been running on the Tower of London, where we went the other day, and where the block on which Anne Boleyn and Lady Jane Grey had their heads cut off was of course shown. When he heard I was going to see the Queen, his heart failed him, and I had some difficulty in comforting him, and explaining that sovereigns in these days didn't have recourse to such extreme measures (at least in civilised countries. I suppose the Shah of Persia wouldn't hesitate to dispose of a head that was in his way).