At two o'clock the servants were already on the watch. The _porte-cochère_ was wide open and the _concierge_ all in a flutter. The piano-tuner, who had just spent an hour tuning my Bechstein, had departed when a cart drew up in front of the door. What do you think it was? Nothing less than the King's own piano, an _upright_ one, though it did connive at _deception_, as you will see. It was one of those pianos with which one could, by turning a key, lower the whole keyboard by half-tones, so that a barytone could masquerade as a tenor and spare the pianist the trouble of transposing the music, and no one would be the wiser. This was emotion No. 1. Emotion No. 2: a carriage which stood before the door brought Mr. Halstrum, the pianist. Emotion No. 3 was another carriage full of things--a music-stand, a quantity of music-books, his Majesty's spectacles, and a mysterious basket. Emotion No. 4: the servants, with all their heads out of the window, spied a carriage coming full tilt up the street. In it was M. Odman, the best tenor from the Opera. Finally the royal equipage, of which there could be no doubt this time, was seen from way down the street. J. descended the stairs to receive his Majesty as his carriage entered the _porte-cochère_. I stood at the door of the apartment, and the King in his usual friendly manner said a hearty, "_God dag, god dag, Fru Hegermann_!" He was attended by only one chamberlain. We went into the _salon_. After a little while the King said, "What shall I sing for you?" and handed me a list of songs. "Anything your Majesty sings will be delightful," I answered, eagerly. "Yes, but you must choose," the King said. I chose one I wanted to hear, but the King had already decided beforehand what he wanted to sing. (I might have spared myself the trouble.) He went toward the piano, but before he sang he took out of the mysterious basket an egg, which he broke and swallowed raw, to clear his voice. He began at the first song on the list, "Adeleide" (Beethoven), and sang that and one after another of those on the list. It seemed queer to have the _rôles_ reversed in this way. I generally sang for royalty, but here royalty was singing for me. [Illustration: KING OSCAR From an autographed photograph taken in 1896.] The King and I sang the duet from "Romeo and Juliet" and his brother's romance, "_I Rosens doft_," which I had sung with the King in Paris many years ago. I sang some of my songs--"Beware," of course. I wondered when the tenor, whom I was longing to hear, would come on the program. He only came once, and that was when he sang a duet with his Majesty, a duet which the King had had arranged from the Jacobite song called "Charlie is my Darling."