I made her acquaintance first at Carlsbad. On my arrival at the hotel I found King Edward’s Equerry waiting in the hall. I had written to tell the King, who was at Marienbad, in answer to his enquiry, as to the day I should arrive and what time; and he came over to Marienbad from Carlsbad. I went then and there and found him just finishing lunch with a peculiarly charming looking young lady, who turned out to be the Grand Duchess Olga, and her husband, the Grand Duke of Oldenburg, from whom happily she is now divorced (I didn’t like the look of him at all). The King, having satisfied himself that I had had lunch, and he then smoking a cigar as big as a capstan bar, after talking of various things which interested him, told me that his niece, the Grand Duchess Olga, did not know anyone in Carlsbad, and he relied on me to make her time there pleasant, so I promptly asked her if she could waltz. She said she loved it, but she somehow never got the step properly, whereupon I asked the King if he had any objection to getting into the corner of the room while I moved the table and took the rugs up to give her Imperial Highness a lesson. He made some little difficulty at first, but eventually went into the corner; and when the lesson began he was quite pleased and clapped his hands and called out “Bravo!” The best waltz tune in the world is one of Moody and Sankey’s hymns. I don’t know whether Sankey originated the saying that he didn’t see why the Devil should have all the good music. I don’t by that implicate that the waltz was the devil’s; but, without any doubt, there is a good deal of temptation in it, and when you get a good partner you cleave to her all the evening.