January, 1881.

Dear Mother,—­The great event of the season has just taken place!  The Corps Diplomatique has been received by their Majesties at the Quirinal, and I have made my first official appearance and worn my first court train.  This splendid ceremony took place at two o’clock in the afternoon, a rather trying time to be decolletee and look your best.  In my letter from Paris I told you about my dress made by Worth.  It really is quite lovely—­white brocade, with the tulle front—­all embroidered with iridescent beads and pearls.  The manteau de cour is of white satin, trimmed with Valenciennes lace and ruches of chiffon.  I wore my diamond tiara, my pearls on my neck, and everything I owned in the way of jewelry pinned on me somewhere.

Johan was in full gala uniform—­the red one—­on the back of which was the chamberlain’s key on the blue ribbon.

On arriving at the Quirinal we drove through the porte-cochere and stopped at the grand staircase, which was lined all the way up by the tall and handsome guards, dressed in their brilliant uniforms.

We were received in the salon adjoining the throne-room by the Marquise Villamarina and the Prefet du Palais.  In crossing this salon one lets one’s train drag on the floor and proceeds, peacock-like, toward the ballroom.  It seems that this is the proper thing to do, as it is expected of you to allow all beholders to admire your train and to verify its length.  It must be four and a half yards long.  I was told that the train of one of the diplomatic ladies last year was not long enough, and she was officially reproached.  She excused herself by saying that she thought it would go “that once,” but she found that it didn’t go, and it was considered very disrespectful of her to disregard the court’s regulations.

On entering the ballroom you pick up your train and go to your place—­for every lady has her place according to her anciennete.  I, being the wife of the newest Minister, was naturally at the very end, and next to me was the newest Minister himself.  While waiting for their Majesties you let your train fall, and it lies in a heap at your left side.

Behind each lady was a red-velvet fauteuil, in which she could rest for a moment, if her colleagues would screen her from public view by “closing up,” according to military language.  We did not, fortunately, have long to wait.  The doors were opened and their Majesties entered.  The ladies courtesied low, and the gentlemen bowed reverentially.

I was quite overcome by the Queen’s dazzling beauty and regal presence.  She wore a beautiful dress of very pale salmon-colored satin, embroidered in the same color.  A red-velvet manteau de cour covered with heavy embossed silver embroidery hung from her shoulders.  Her jewels were handsomer than anything I had ever seen before, even more magnificent than those of the Empress Eugenie.  The King and Queen separated.  The King turned to the doyen of the Corps Diplomatique, talked a long time with him, and then passed on, having a word for each gentleman, not overlooking even the youngest secretary.