The Prince of Naples (they call him the Principino) sat next to me at luncheon.  He is very clever—­unusually clever—­and has a memory that some day ought to stand him in good stead.  Mine by the side of it felt like a babe in arms.  The questions he asked, a brule-point, would have startled a person cleverer than I am.  He is very military and knows all about the different wars that have been fought since the time of Moses, and when he wished to know how many officers were killed in the battle of Chattanooga I had to confess that, if I had ever known, I had forgotten.  But he knew everything concerning Chattanooga and all other battles.

When the white truffles were served (they were temptingly buried in a nest of butter) the Prince said, “How can you eat those things?”

“You mean, your Highness, these delicious truffles?”

“Yes,” he answered; “they don’t taste bad, but they stink so.”

“Oh, Monseigneur,” I cried, “you must not say that word.  It is a dreadful word.”

“Oh no, it is not.  It is in the Bible.”

I could not contradict him.  I hope he will find out later that there are some words in the Bible that are not used in general conversation.

After luncheon the Queen said:  “We are going to take a very long drive.  You must dress very warmly.”  I went to my room.  I had a little time before the rendezvous in the salon, and I thought perhaps I could finish my letter begun yesterday, but, alas!  I could not....  I returned to the salon with everything I owned in the way of furs and wraps, and found all the guests waiting for the Queen.

The equipages here are always a la Daumon—­that is, open landaus—­seats for four people inside, a rumble behind, and a seat for the coachman, if there Is a coachman, but the two postilions on the four horses are seemingly all that are required.  In front of the garden-side perron were the two landaus waiting.  The Queen, Madame Minghetti, and Johan sat inside of the first landau.  General Garadaglia and I sat on the coachman’s box and manoeuvered the brake.  It happened rather often that we forgot to manoeuver.  Then we would get a very reproachful glance from the postilions, and we would turn the brake on to the last wrench; then we would get another look because the wheels could not move.  Somehow we never got the right tension.  The Queen enjoyed our confusion.

When we passed through the small villages the whole populace would run out into the streets to gaze at us.

I thought it strange that the villagers, who must have seen the Queen hundreds of times, did not seem to recognize her, and sometimes bowed to me, thinking, I suppose, that I, being on the first seat, must naturally be the first person.  How different it is in Denmark!  When any royal carriage passes, people courtesy, sometimes even when the carriage is empty.

The Queen ordered the postilions to go slowly through the narrow streets of the village to avoid the risk of running over the crowds of children.  I never saw so many.  Eight or ten at each door!  They all seemed to be of the same age, and all were dressed in red calico, which made a very pretty note of color against the shabby houses.  There are a great many manufactories about here, and I suppose red calico must be cheap.