I have often played skittles at Regensburg; but what a spectacle we presented! We played skittles wearing our tiaras and our long-trained gowns. There was etiquette in handling and bowling a large ball. More than one tiara became insecure, and more than one player groaned in her jewels, silks and embroideries, not to mention her corsets. Luckily clothes were then capable of more resistance. If this had occurred nowadays, when women dress in transparencies which are as scanty as possible, what would not one have seen? It must not be thought that this was a chance game of skittles which I played dressed in full Court toilette. It was the fashion. You did everything at Regensburg in a procession, preceded by a Master of the Ceremonies. And because and for all that, as Victor Hugo says somewhere, it was very droll. Life at Regensburg was agreeable. The prince and princess entertained magnificently. The palace lent itself admirably to entertaining, as it was a superb residence, royally furnished and surrounded by gardens which were tended with love. The cooking equalled that of the cuisine dear to the heart of Ferdinand of Bulgaria. The charming part about it was that the antiquated ceremonial was so well ordered that certain exaggerations were quickly forgotten in the beauty of rhythm and arrangement, which recalled the dignity of bygone days. We went to the races in splendid state barouches, preceded by equally well turned out outriders. The Count of Stanfferberg, Master of the Horse, an old Austrian officer, rode at the side of the prince's carriage, and the gentlemen-in-waiting were so attentive that, had there been no step to the carriage, every one of them would have supplied the place with their persons. If we went to the theatre we went in full dress, preceded by torch-bearers to the princely box. An etiquette of this description compelled one to maintain the dignity of one's station. But the prince and his wife liked this ceremonial; they only lived to prolong the pomp of past centuries. It had been said that Princess Marguerite of Thurn and Taxis somewhat resembled Marie Antoinette. The prince, who believed in the said resemblance, wished to give his wife a set of diamonds which had once belonged to the unfortunate Queen of France. He bought them and the princess wore them. I was afraid that there might be some fatality in this, but there were no superstitions at the Court of Thurn and Taxis. The future was seen through rose-coloured glasses, and in order to make the appearance of the princess suit the historical diamonds the famous Lentheric was once sent for from Paris on the occasion of a Court ball, to arrange the princess's hair "à la frigate," and transform her into a quasi Marie Antoinette, whom one would have been very sorry to have seen starting for the scaffold.