Before dinner I have been solemnly conducted by the Countess to the apartments of the Empress, wearing one long white kid glove, while the other is feverishly crumpled in my hand together with a fan, without which even in the coldest weather no properly equipped lady can, I learned, be considered fit to appear before royalty. An elderly footman shows us into a little ante-room furnished in brilliant yellow satin, and here we sit and wait, chatting in the desultory, half-hearted manner of people who expect every moment to be interrupted. It is some ten minutes or so before a door leading into an inner apartment is opened and we are ushered in. “You will kiss Her Majesty’s hand,” whispers the Countess with a reassuring smile as she passes on in front of me. The Empress is sitting on a sofa, with a stick beside her, for she has had the misfortune to sprain her ankle rather severely some days before, and she receives us with a pleasant, gentle smile and a look which reveals at once the fact that she herself is feeling a slight embarrassment. I suppose the Countess presents me to Her Majesty--I have no definite recollection of it--but at any rate she disappears and leaves us alone together. I bend and kiss the outstretched hand, and feel already that this is going to be quite a pleasant interview, so eminently sympathetic and kindly reassuring is the face that smiles into mine with a certain shy diffidence. I find myself sitting in a chair talking easily and without restraint to a mother about her little daughter. It is all quite simple and straightforward. There is no longer anything to trouble or be doubtful over. We exchange views on theories of education, on a child’s small idiosyncrasies, on the difficulties of giving her enough fresh air when so many hours are taken up with study. We get absorbed in our talk, and find that we have many views in common--always a delightful discovery, whether the other person be an Empress or a charwoman. At last Her Majesty realizes that a good many hungry ladies and gentlemen are waiting not far away for her appearance and their dinner, and so at length she rises and walks through several rooms, preceded by a footman who flings open both leaves of the folding doors, till we emerge in an apartment brightly lit with many wax candles, where a subdued buzz of conversation suddenly stops and the whole company bows and curtsies at once, like a field of corn when the wind passes over it.