Yesterday, too, was gay with crowds of people in the streets, for it was the King’s birthday, and I was awakened by the music of marching bands, in time to see from my window the Persian Ambassador starting to call on the King at the Quirinal. The gala carriages made a fine show with their caparisoned horses, the three liveried footmen behind and bewigged coachman stuck up in front. This important Embassy had traveled all the way from Persia to tell the King that a new Shah had come to the throne, a bit of news we had learned by telegraph months ago,--but such are the ways of monarchs. I wonder when the Ambassador will arrive from America to announce the accession of the new Administration! The evening found me dining at the Foreign Office in honor of His Majesty’s birthday. It was a very splendid and stately affair, the diplomats and officials all in uniforms of gold lace, cocked hats, with swords and fine feathers, my simple, unadorned black coat being the only one at the table. (However, the servants were dressed like me, though to be sure, even some of them were decorated!) It was a dinner of fifty, long and ceremonious, and afterwards we all stood about while I watched the Greek and Turk dodging each other, and taking turns in talking excitably to their fellow guests. Tomorrow they will probably be at each other’s throats. The Ambassadorial family has just left, with a good many people to see them off, chiefly officials. I put some flowers in their compartment, as I did when my darling Polly left Rome. I had hoped to be able to leave with them, but, as I wrote you, I must wait until a new Ambassador, or his Secretary, arrives before I can turn over the affairs and leave. Oh, Polly, I am so sorry for this further delay. You know how disappointed I am, and you will be patient with me, won’t you, dear? * * * * * PRINCE BORIS TO POLLY _Rome, March._ _Dushenka moya_, you do not know what these little words mean? Then you cannot forbid that I call you that. Long time I am coming but had much work to do. Now my passage at last is engage, and the boat that bring me I hope she fly. So I fascinated you with my mysterious tales, your letter says? Then shall I tell you more when we meet, about the enchanted Princess with the beautiful golden hair, yes? Ah, my poor little Hummingbird, I hear your young Diplomat he is staying in Rome; there is no need, but then, oh la la! Always the gray-eyed lady of Da Vinci is with him, and they tell me that every day they go off into the Campagna and ride and ride and come back very cheerful. I am angry for you. When I come, will you receive me kindly like the true friend who will always remain your obedient Boris? * * * * * POLLY TO A. D. _New York, March._