We had a charming day; I am so glad we went. We started a little after ten for Frankfort, where we had a wait of 20 minutes. I wore my black voile and a little black and jet toque in which I put a white aigrette, and white gloves, so as not to be too black. The trajet is short from Frankfort to Cronberg, about an hour. We found two carriages (rather pretty victorias in wood natural colour and cushions the same colour--they looked very chic and country) and tall powdered footmen in the black and silver Imperial livery. There were two or three people in the second carriage whom I didn't recognise at first, but made out when we arrived. Val Prinsep, the artist, and his wife, a very pretty woman, and a German lady, also an artist I think. The Castle is not far from the station, and Cronberg (the town) is rather picturesque. The house is large--nothing particular in the way of architecture, but stands well in a fair-sized park. We were received in a fine hall, with pictures, carvings, and plenty of old furniture. Countess Perponcher and Baron Reischach received us. Count Seckendorff was not there, which I regretted, as I like him very much and should have been glad to see him again. Countess Perponcher took us to a small room on the ground floor where we left our parasols, wraps, etc., and then we went through one or two handsome rooms into a large salon where the company was already assembled. Lady Layard and her niece were staying in the house, also Prince Albert Solms (our old friend) with his wife. He is very ill, poor fellow, and can hardly get about. Some English friends arrived from Hombourg--Lady Cork, Lord Algy Lennox. About 1.30 the Empress came--always the same charming manner, and always her sad eyes. I thought she looked thinner and paler perhaps, but not ill. We went immediately to luncheon--the Empress first, alone, all of us following. Baron Reischach sat opposite to her, between me and Lady Cork. The talk was easy, the Empress talking a great deal. Val Prinsep too did his share, and Lady Cork is always clever and original. After luncheon we went back to the big drawing-room and looked at some of the beautiful things. Angeli's last portrait of the Empress had just come and had been placed (temporarily only) in a corner where the light was not very good. It is a fine picture--the Empress all in black with her splendid pearl necklace, seated on a sort of carved throne, or high-backed chair--all the shading dark, the only bit of colour the yellow ribbon of the Black Eagle. It is a striking picture and very like her, but so inexpressibly sad. She called each one of us in turn to come and sit by her. She spoke very warmly of W. to me, and asked me if I didn't regret my London life, and if I did not find it very difficult to settle down in France after having lived ten years in London, "the great centre of the world." It is curious how universal that feeling is with English people (and "au