The throne, about which there had been a question when I began the portrait, and which had been a present to Her Majesty from the late Emperor Tong Chih, her son, had been “lost” during the Boxer troubles, but Her Majesty thought it might be reproduced from descriptions and from sketches by the Palace painters who had seen it; but I could not consent to work either from memory or other painters’ sketches, and I was finally obliged to paint, “faute de mieux,” one of the carved teakwood thrones of which Her Majesty is so fond. This throne did not suit the straight lines of the composition so well as almost any other in the Palace would have done, but Her Majesty wished it. I found the representation of the nine life-size phenix, in vigorous colors, on a blue cloisonné screen placed almost touching the throne, very difficult to represent, so that they did not seem to be real birds flying around her head. The vases of flowers and ornaments were also placed at exactly equal distances on either side of the throne, but it was necessary to paint them this way. It would not have been “proper” otherwise. The figure was in the exact center of the three-fold screen, and so near it, it was impossible to get any atmosphere in the background. There was not a fold in either gown or sleeves; but I had now resigned myself to convention and tradition, and I copied mechanically what was placed before me, and made no more efforts at artistic arrangements, nor tried any experiments in execution. I worked like a good artisan, finishing so many inches a day. The weather was now too cold for anything but the short constitutional, and, besides, there was no place in the Winter Palace to tempt one to promenades--only the walled-in courts and the shut-in walks, between high walls. Even Her Majesty’s promenades were confined to going to the Audience Hall in the morning, and walking through the courts, from one Throne-room to another. Every day we saw the Empress Dowager for some moments in her Throne-room before I went to my work. On Theater days, I made her my morning salutation in her loge at the Theater, and when the light faded and I could paint no more, I would go into the young Empress’s and the Ladies’ loge for the last play and the spectacular finale, when there were always some good illuminations and pretty effects. Her Majesty and the young Empress seemed now to perfectly understand that I wanted to work, and must work, in order to finish the large portrait for the St. Louis Exposition. They saw I appreciated the amusements and ceremonies, etc, but that I did not wish them to interfere with my work. When there was a special festival, or some fine ceremony, I was always called in, but otherwise I might go or not, as I wished.