All the Ministers and their wives, the Duke of Norfolk, and a host of other officials followed in his wake. It is the custom for the gentlemen to bow low and the ladies to curtsey as the procession passes. By this time there was barely breathing room, for all the official diners had arrived, and most of the three thousand invitations issued found a representative in that gay throng. Supper over, the Royal Procession returned through the State Galleries, and, descending the staircase, went home shortly after midnight. Well, well! to think how many people declare they “would not thank you for such a pretty sight; would rather sit at home with their book, or smoke at their club; anything rather than see a fashionable gathering, and be jostled by diplomats and peers.” “OPENING OF PARLIAMENT. An Impression of the Peers. (By a Woman Commoner.)” Thus my little article was headed in the front page of _The Pall Mall Gazette_, 1902. “A little flutter of excitement passed through me as I opened a certain envelope one morning, and took out its contents. Just a little bit of cardboard, but oh, how precious! for it represented a seat at the opening of Parliament by His Most Gracious Majesty King Edward VII. ‘Admittance 12 o’clock. Doors close 1.30. Day dress.’ “These were the orders, and, not wishing to miss anything, I started forth a little after noon, and drove to the Victoria Tower entrance. I had been there before, when the House was sitting, and knew those rows of five hundred pegs on which the noble lords hang their coats and hats, each peg being ornamented with its owner’s name. By the by, there is a curious rule that no peer standing on the floor of the Upper House, or moving from one side to another, may do so with his hat on; and if he rise from his comfortable red seat with his head covered, he must doff his hat, and not replace it until he is seated again. Such a strange formality is easily forgotten, so wise folk leave their hats downstairs. “There is as great a charm about the interior of the House of Peers as there is in the building architecturally; the moss-green carpets and red-covered seats harmonise so well with the fine carvings and passable pictures. The Robing Room is hung with canvases of the Tudor period, and there are also some good carvings here, which made a fitting setting to the day’s proceedings. Never has there been such a demand for tickets as on this occasion, both by Members of the Commons to hear the King’s Speech, and Society generally to get into the Royal Gallery.