First we passed through a wide, two-aisled gallery with a forest of palms above and a rich display of pink and rose-coloured azaleas below. Then down steps into long, narrow passageways that were a bower as far as the eye could reach, gorgeous with climbing geraniums and lovely cinerarias. These galleries led one hither and thither, now in one direction, now in another, till both eye and mind were dazed with pleasure. We passed through tunnels of blooming flowers, and there was no end to the astonishing glory of colour and beauty. Here and there were little grottoes with mirrors, and fountains plashing; then more alleys, and another great house all aflame with azaleas. Steps led to the door of a pavilion. Here it was that King Leopold II had died. Our progress was not rapid, as the King and Queen stopped frequently to speak to different people. But we finally made the tour and returned to the great rotunda, where I felt as if I were standing in an unreal world, inside a giant soap-bubble of many colours. CHAPTER III BRUSSELS BEFORE THE WAR The social life of Brussels we found very interesting. That of the Court was simple but elegant, while that of the aristocracy was old-world and conservative to a degree. Indeed, it was much like that of the Faubourg in Paris. Outside of royalty and serene highnesses, every one "in society" was either a count or a baron. It certainly seemed strange to an American that not one was without a title. Another custom which struck one as odd was that of using titles in letters--they would often sign themselves "Countess So-and-So," or "Princess X." If a woman belonged to a fine family she would put "_née_" with her maiden name on her card. An amusing travesty on titles occurred when our footman received letters addressed to the "Chief Cleaner of the Silver." I saw two cards which were even funnier than this, though. One bore the man's name and the title, "The Secretary of the Secretary of the Minister of"--such a department. The other was a card of a Doctor A----, who had inscribed beneath his name, "Doctor for the Countess of B----'s stomach." Hospitality generally took the form of afternoon teas. I have often been to as many as three or four in a day. They were always very ceremonial affairs, with all the servants turned out in style to receive me alone or perhaps two or three other guests. During Lent people often received in the evening. Tea and cake and orangeade were served, while the guests sat and gossiped. At this season, we discovered, all the dinners had to have either fish or meat--not both--as it was a Roman Catholic country. Sundays, which are not Lenten days, gave them an opportunity for varying the festivities.