It was in Berlin, when I was seventeen, that I met BISMARCK. It was at the Opera, where, being a young English girl, I was in the habit of going alone. The great Chancellor, who was all unconscious that I had penetrated his identity, watched me for a long while between the Acts and then overtook me on my way home and in French asked me to supper. MARGOT (_also in French_). But I am not hungry. BISMARCK. In Germany you should do as the Germans do and eat always; (_with emphasis_) I do. MARGOT (_scathingly_). I wonder if you are aware that I am English? BISMARCK (_muttering something I could not catch about England lying crushed at his feet_). But you are beautiful too! Some day you will be a countrywoman of mine. MARGOT. How? BISMARCK. Because we shall make war on England and conquer it, and it will then be our own and all of you will be our people and our slaves. At least we should conquer it if---- MARGOT. If what? BISMARCK. If it were not for a young man who will then be Prime Minister. It is of him we are afraid. MARGOT. What is his name? BISMARCK. ASQUITH. Could prescience further go? BISMARCK then left me with another ungainly effort at French: _"Au revoir, Mademoiselle."_ But we never met again. =Disraeli's Last Days.= I was with DISRAELI (who was one of the few men who did not propose to me) not long before the end, and he gave me many confidences, although he knew all about my friendship with GLADSTONE. But then I have always chosen my friends impartially from all the camps. My exact memory enables me to repeat my last conversation with DIZZY word for word:-- MARGOT. You look tired. Shall I dance for you? (_Continued on page 104_). * * * * * [Illustration: THE REAL MUSIC. JOHN BULL. "I WISH THEY'D LET ME HEAR THE LADY."] * * * * * [Illustration: _The Wife (bitterly)._ "YES, IT MAKES A NICE OUTIN' FOR ME, DON'T IT--SETTIN' IN THE RAIN ALL DAY GUARDIN' A TIN O' WORMS?"] * * * * * DIZZY. No, no. MARGOT _(brightly_). Let us be sensible and talk frankly about your approaching death. Have you any views as to your biography? DIZZY. Need there be one? MARGOT. Of course. DIZZY (_earnestly_). Would you write it? You would be so discreet. I had to refuse, but I am sure I could have made a more amusing job of it than MR. BUCKLE has done, in spite of the love-letters. What a pity they didn't entrust it to my dear EDMUND GOSSE! =A Browning Poem.= Here is a little poem that BROWNING wrote for me on hearing me say that when we were girls "we did not know the meaning of the word 'fast'":-- We all of us worship our Margot, She's such a determined _escargot_. =Talks with the Dead.=