After dinner at a fashionable restaurant (while the King was in Paris) the band was called upon to play the English National Anthem by a party of Frenchmen. Then some Englishmen present called for the Marseillaise, which was received with the same honours and enthusiasm. By a curious chance there was a party of Germans present, and these stood up and uncovered while both the National Anthems were being played. Beyond the various social functions there was no other special incident, and the short visit passed off very satisfactorily in every way. I have told of the enthusiasm evoked by the first official visit of His Majesty to Paris, and the two subsequent visits, but when it was reported early in 1907 that the King was coming, accompanied by the Queen, enthusiasm knew little bounds. Many of the English Colony had never seen the Queen, and were on tiptoe of expectation. Their Majesties arrived in Paris from London on Saturday evening, February 2nd, at the Gare du Nord, where they received an enthusiastic—though non-official—welcome, for they were travelling as the Duke and Duchess of Lancaster. The photographic fiend was again in evidence, and Her Majesty gave a perceptible start as the magnesium light flashed, although she must be accustomed to this annoyance. I was told that the crowd outside the station was enormous, and the cries “Vive le Roi—Vive la Reine” were very hearty, both there and along the route to the British Embassy, which was to be the temporary home of their Majesties. Notwithstanding the fatigues of the journey the King and Queen paid a visit to the Nouveau Cirque in the evening, much to the delight of those present. It appeared to me that the Parisians were the more pleased at the “incognito,” as it was as if their Majesties came as friends, and not merely as Royal visitors. The visit was thus less formal yet more cordial; everyone felt that it was not political, but just friendly, and Paris was delighted. The British sovereigns were going to spend a week of pleasure, visiting and entertaining their friends, shopping and motoring. The Rue de la Paix is always attractive, but it seemed to surpass itself on this occasion. I was naturally very busy preparing for the Sunday service. Tickets were quite necessary, and the demand for them very great. We issued 1,000—our utmost limit—and then came the pain of refusing the hundreds who also desired to attend. I crave pardon for giving the report of the service, written by my friend Mr. Ozane, the well-known and valued correspondent of the “Daily Telegraph.”