“What am I to do?” I asked.  “The only thing I can see is to leave Stockholm, my home, and my family, and come back in the summer when I can wear a bonnet.”

I meant this as a tremendous satire, but she took it quite seriously and said, “That would be wiser.”

I smiled and, handing her the letter I had in my hand, I said, “In this letter from the grande maitresse she said you were to present me.”

“Of course I am to present you, but I refuse to wear the sleeves.”

“If such is the case,” I said, “what would you advise me to do?”

She answered:  “I would advise you to avoid wearing the sleeves.  You will make a precedent which all the Corps Diplomatique will resent.”

“Why should the ladies object to the sleeves?” I ventured to ask.  “Are they so unbecoming?”

“It is not that they are unbecoming, but the Ministers’ wives dislike being dictated to.  They say that they represent their sovereigns, and object to be told what they shall wear and what they shall not wear.”

I remarked that at the Court of St. James’s no lady ever dreamt of objecting to wear the three plumes and the long tulle veil prescribed by that court, and I could not see any difference so long as it was their Majesties’ wish.

To this she replied, “I think you will regret it if you offend the whole Corps Diplomatique.”

On this I took my leave and drove straight to the grande maitresse.  My back was up, and even if the Corps Diplomatique’s back was up, too, I was determined to do nothing to displease the Court of Sweden.  I explained the situation to the Baroness Axerhjelm, who already knew it, of course, better than I did.  I could see it was a sore point.

When I asked her to explain to me about the sleeves she offered to send for them that I might see them, and to lend me her sleeves that I might copy them.

When I looked at the offending sleeves I did not think they were so appalling—­only two white satin puffs held in with straps of narrow black velvet ribbon.  On a black corsage they could not be so dreadful, especially as the fashion now is sleeves puffed to exaggeration.  How silly!

We received visit after visit and many letters from the now irate Corps—­so many that we were quite bewildered.  J. looked through the archives of the Legation to see if he could find anything bearing on this subject, but in vain.  The mighty question does not seem to have troubled my predecessors.  They seem to have worn the sleeves and gone on living.

J. remembered that the wife of his former Minister, on the occasion of the marriage of the Crown Prince, wore them.  I decided to write to the Queen of Denmark to ask her advice, telling her of the threatened antagonism against me.

This is her letter in reply: