While I was breakfasting, Kameneff looked in with the morning papers, which have come out with headlines and photographs of him. One describes him as having arrived “with a lady, tall and elegant, who carried in one hand a “Kodakaparat” and in the other a box of sweets--she does not look Russian, and was heard to speak in French.” At luncheon I met Mrs. Litvinoff, and was surprised to find that she is English, a friend of the Meynells and of H. G. Wells. She has short black hair, and is unconventional. She did not seem to be very political or revolutionary. The third baby is imminent. After luncheon, we made an expedition outside Kristiania to the wireless station, which is on the top of a wooded hill from which there is a magnificent View. Misha, the eldest child, a boy of four, accompanied us. He is unruly, wild-eyed, and most attractive, the embodiment of Donatello’s “laughing boy.” He says: “What for is my father a Bolshevik?” and tells his mother to ring the bell for the maid, and not to do any work herself. Litvinoff adores him and throws him about and makes him stand on his head. Coming home Litvinoff and I, hatless, ran races down the hill. To my great humiliation he outran me. He is a heavy man and I run well, but he was not even out of breath. On the way back in the open car, they all sang Russian folk songs in a chorus. Bolsheviks are a very cheerful species. We reached the hotel just in time to pick up our luggage and catch the train for Stockholm. There were real cordial good-byes all round. Litvinoff said that if I did not get through from Stockholm, I must come back to Kristiania and he would send someone with me to take me through Murmansk, but Mrs. Litvinoff said that I should get through from Stockholm. “That sort of person always gets what she wants” she said, but gave no further comment, and I am wondering what sort of person I am. The two secretaries gave me messages for friends in Moscow, and seemed very envious of anyone going back. One of them (with most beautiful chestnut hair), held forth to me on the great difference the Revolution had brought in the position of women. She is an ardent Communist, and works 10 hours a day with a willing heart and little pay. She added as a last appeal: “Go and see for yourself, and then say nice things about us when you get back to England.” SEPTEMBER 15TH. _Stockholm, Sweden._ We arrived at 8.30 a.m., and were met at the station by Frederick Ström, head of the left wing Socialist party of Sweden. It was an interesting contrast to my arrival in former years when the Crown Prince himself used to meet me and take me in a royal car to the Palace. I felt a great sadness as I passed that old Palace, and the windows of Princess Margaret’s rooms which I knew so well. The days when I used to stay there seemed very long ago and of another world.