I had to tell my friend Wilhelmi of my troubles; of my grief for Ernst, of my deep anxiety about Richard, and the thought struck me: "Must the old friend, whom we meet after long absence, have his heart saddened by the recital of our woes." CHAPTER X. I make no mention of the proceedings of the Reichstag; you can read all about them in the newspapers. I did not once take the floor. In committee, I protested energetically, when we understood that some of the states were to be rewarded for their share in our triumph, by having certain portions of Alsace assigned to them. This plan was barely alluded to in the public meetings, and I am inclined to think that the rumor was merely a piece of diplomatic finesse. I cannot avoid repeating the words addressed to me by the Emperor, when I was presented at the palace. "I have a son and you have a grandson in the field, and they have, both of them, proved their courage." His voice betokened sincerity; his countenance was kind and gentle. I was surprised; even if the Emperor had informed himself beforehand, it was so kind of him to speak thus of Julius. In replying I told him that, during the absence of my grandson in the field, a son had been born to him. The Emperor congratulated me. He took me by the hand! For a second, I held the palm of my beloved Emperor in warm, living embrace. He must have felt my glance following him when he walked away. For the great and glorious monarch turned again and nodded to me. (THE NIGHT BEFORE THE TRIUMPHAL ENTRY.) The festivities have been gloriously ushered in. The bells were ringing, and the streets were alive with a gay and bustling throng. I roamed about alone, admiring all that was beautiful and enjoyable in the streets that had been transformed by the beautiful festal decorations. A bit of Olympian life had descended upon our homes. We sometimes persuade ourselves that we have often thought of, or wished for, something that suddenly comes to pass: the rapidity with which our ideas succeed each other is apt to deceive us. But I am sure that while looking at the Academy of Arts, decorated as it was with the portraits of heroes, I involuntarily thought, "If I only had one of my own family with me now; I am so lonely in this surging crowd." All at once, I heard a clear, ringing voice exclaim, "Good evening, grandfather." My grandson Julius stands before me, sunburnt, and with several orders glistening on his breast. He belongs to the combined South German Corps that is detailed here to take part in the triumphal entry. His quarters are in a neighboring village, and he must return early. Julius asked me whom his son resembled, and when I told him that little Erwin had the eyes of his grandmother, his face was radiant with joy.