[Illustration:  COUNT HATZFELDT From a recent photograph.  He was Prime Minister of Germany and German Ambassador to London, brother-in-law of Madame de Hegermann-Lindencrone.  The picture shows over sixty decorations, all the important ones of Europe, which have been given him.  It is custom that the decorations of orders in diamonds are kept by the family after the death of the recipient.  All other orders go back to the governments bestowing them.]

After dinner we went into the long gallery, which in one part was arranged as a salon, with fauteuils and chairs in circle.

To show what a wonderful memory King Edward has, he said to me: 

“Do you remember a song you used to sing [I thought he was going to say ‘Beware’] with something about, ’I mean the daughter’?”

“Yes, your Majesty, I remember very well.  It was, ’I know a lady, a Mrs. Brady.’”

“Yes, that was it...’and has a daughter,’ wasn’t it?”

I said, “What a memory your Majesty has!  Fancy remembering that all these years.  It was when your Majesty came to Sommerberg to play tennis with Paul Hatzfeldt.”

“That was a long time ago,” continued King Edward.  “I was stopping then with the King and the Queen of Denmark at Wiesbaden.  I remember it all so well.  Poor Hatzfeldt.  You know what Bismarck said about him?”

“Was it not something about his being the best horse in his stable?”

“That is it,” the King answered.  “You have a good memory, too.  How is Countess Raben?”

“You mean ’the daughter’?”

The King laughed.  “Yes, I mean ‘the daughter.’”

We did not stay long after the dinner, as evidently their Majesties were fatigued after their journey.  The King coughed incessantly, and the Queen looked very tired.  I think that she is beginning to look very like her mother, the dear old Queen.

The next day hundreds of court carriages were flying about Berlin; I wish you could see the packages of cards that were sent to us.  In the evening was the gala opera.  The Opera House is always decorated in the same way, and there is always the same audience.

“Sardanapal” was the play chosen by the Emperor for this performance.  I thought it very interesting to look at, but impossible to understand.  It was a combination of orchestral music, choruses, and pantomime.  A dreadful-looking Nubian came out before the curtain between acts and told us in German poetry what was going to happen.  The Emperor had taken a great interest in the play, and had indicated all the costumes himself.  Every dress was a study and entirely correct, you may be sure, if the Kaiser had anything to do with it.  The ornaments which the actors wore were copied from specimens in the museums.  The scenery was very fine, and when Sardanapal was burned up, with his wives and collection of gold and silver things, the whole stage seemed to be on fire.  This almost created a panic, and would