The Emperor made a very charming and touching speech in German, when we all stood up and emptied our glasses. The King replied in German, and we again got up and drank. After dinner every one went into the long gallery, and their four Majesties talked very informally with us while taking their coffee. At eleven o’clock their Majesties retired. I was glad, for Nina’s sake, that she could rest after her fatiguing day. I knew that she was suffering agonies from her tightly bandaged wrist. Her arm was in a plaster cast, and she carried it in a sling cleverly hidden under her laces. The next day the Empress took the Queen with her to visit some charitable institutions. The King and the Queen had graciously promised to lunch at our house, which was surrounded by a cordon of police, on foot and on horseback, in front and in the courtyard belonging to the Legation.
At two o’clock quite a procession of court carriages entered our porte-cochere, where I met the Queen, presenting her with a bouquet tied with ribbons of the Danish colors—red and white. Our lunch was for forty people, and was served in two rooms. The King gave me his arm. The Emperor had sent in the morning a life-sized crayon portrait of himself by Lenbach as a present. The whole staircase was lined with palms and bushes, and of course there were plenty of flowers in the rooms.
After luncheon a deputation of the Danish colony met in the large salons and were presented to their Majesties. It was after five o’clock before every one had departed. The policemen had filed off, and the crowds which had collected in the street disappeared.
The gala opera in the evening was like all the other gala operas I have described. At eight o’clock every one had assembled and was in his place. The opera was called “Der Lange Kerl,” written at the Emperor’s command by some German composer. It was a beautiful production, and represented Frederick the Great at Sans-Souci. In the first act the interior of Sans-Souci was copied after the famous picture of Mezzler where Frederick the Great is playing on the flute. The “Long Fellow” was a giant, who, it seems, was a common soldier in the King’s regiment. Madame Destinn took the part of a peasant woman, and washed up the pavement and prepared her vegetables for sale in the most realistic manner. The second scene, when Potsdam wakes up in the morning, reminded me of the opening of the second act of “Lohengrin.” The last act was very sad, and rather lugubrious, representing Frederick the Great seated in the garden in front of Sans-Souci. There was no singing in this act at all, only pantomime. The respectful manner and the sad faces of the lackeys as they helped the poor old King to his chair and covered his knees with rugs, leaving him alone, was very pathetic.
We went into the foyer after the performance. The Empress presented all the notable people to the Queen, and I stood near her in order to present others if necessary.