It has been a distressing time indeed for the Duchess of Cumberland. She has lost her eldest son (killed in an automobile accident on the way to Schwerin to see his sister, the Grand Duchess) and now it is her brother who is taken so tragically. The young duke was very unwise to take that particular road. We had passed over the same route, or tried to, on our way to pay a visit to the grand-ducal pair not more than two weeks before. Our chauffeur was appalled at the dreadful condition of the road and advised turning back. We made a great _détour_ and avoided an accident. The Duke was driving himself, and the ruts in the road made the car jump so that the wheel struck him under the chin, he lost control, and the machine struck a tree, killing the Duke instantly. The chauffeur was saved. BERLIN. Mr. Roosevelt and family arrived in Berlin three days ago. Society was on tiptoe with expectation. They talked of giving Arthur Nevin's Indian opera, "Poia," in order that the ex-President should have the thrill of seeing his compatriots in a German setting. This idea was abandoned, though Count Hülsen had accepted the opera and at an enormous expense had had it mounted at the Grand Opera. The Kaiser received Mr. Roosevelt and was charmed with him, just as Mr. Roosevelt was charmed with the Kaiser. Of course, who could resist the magnetic forces of these two _dii ex machinâ_. Ambassador and Mrs. Hill gave a large and all-comprising reception at the Embassy in honor of their distinguished guest, which is much too small to contain the entire society of Berlin and _embrace_ (I like that word) all the American colony. To gain a little more space they very practically turned the _porte-cochère_ into a _vestiaire_, where we took off our mantles before crossing the carpet-covered carriage-drive. Mr. Roosevelt was most amiable. He greeted people with a cordiality which bordered on _épanchement_--giving their hands a shaking the like of which they had never had before. Mr. Roosevelt remained by Mrs. Hill's side and smiled kindly at the guests as they poured in and out of the _salon_. That was about all the guests did--pour in and pour out. One could not expect even the most favored to exchange more than a few words with the great man. Our conversations were in the style of the reception, short and quickly done with. MRS. HILL: "This is Madame de Hegermann. She is American, from Cambridge, Massachusetts." MR. ROOSEVELT: "Ah!... I am a Harvard man." ME: "So am I! I mean I am a Harvard woman! I was born and brought up in Radcliffe College." MR. R.: "Ah!" (_Puzzled, trying to match the possible date of my birth with the birth of Radcliffe College._) ME: "Radcliffe College was my grandparents' home." MR. R.: "Oh, I see! Well, madame, I am delighted to shake hands with any one from Cambridge." Johan's was like this: MRS. HILL: "Monsieur de Hegermann was Danish Minister in Washington some years ago."