“The presentation was all too quick, the exciting moment had come and gone, and when I found I was out of the room, another of those grand gentlemen caught my train on his stick and in some wonderful manner turned it over my arm, and I sailed away, my presentation accomplished. The arrangements were excellent; of course, there had been some difficulty about trains or no trains, but it had been decided that everyone was to wear a train, although only _débutantes_ passing immediately before their Majesties were required to let them down at this evening Court early after the death of Queen Victoria. “Perhaps the most beautiful part of the Court was the passing of the Royal procession through the galleries on their way to supper. I was not flurried then as I was on presentation, so I could just stand and see the regal party pass without personal emotion. The King looks every inch a King in his dark blue uniform, wearing, of course, that blue ribbon which they call the Order of the Garter. First of all came the King and Queen, followed by their daughters, the Duke and Duchess of Connaught, the Mistress of the Robes, and a host of others. They walked very slowly, and the Queen, who had no bouquet, bowed delightfully to everyone, as she passed through those vast rooms. Oh dear! Oh dear! It was lovely, and I am sorry it is over, for it was more lovely than anything I could ever have conjured up in my wildest dreams.” Most useful proved my own experiences at such functions as Drawing-rooms, and my favourite adage as to journalism came into play, viz. Write of what you know. But how, some timid minds may object, can a working-woman still afford to go to Court? Suffice it to say that one originally handsome gown of wealthier days served me, its wearer, several times to make my curtseys to Royalty. I should not have attended so often in the ordinary way, but going so much abroad as I did, it was advisable. There one’s reception at Court is of use, for, after all, foreigners are unable to judge one’s social position from one’s appearance, some of the worst scamps seeming the most ideal on the surface, therefore a pass-word, such as having “been to Court”—which means so little in England—counts for something across the water. I always wore a train, that once belonged to my great-grandmother. It ought to know its way to Buckingham Palace by now. Strangely enough, that old _chiné_ silk (it must be between one hundred and a hundred and fifty years old) has a stripe of soft grey between wider stripes of beautiful mellowed flowers. It is exactly the same kind of thing that is so fashionable to-day. History repeats itself even in silk, and those dull _chiné_ ribbons and dull _chiné_ silks are but reproductions of those worn by our great-grandmothers.