But very early after my arrival, I was of course summoned by the King.  I had presented a copy of my credentials to the Foreign Secretary (Sir Edward Grey) and the real credentials—­the original in a sealed envelope—­I must present to His Majesty.  One morning the King’s Master of the Ceremonies, Sir Arthur Walsh, came to the hotel with the royal coaches, four or five of them, and the richly caparisoned grooms.  The whole staff of the Embassy must go with me.  We drove to Buckingham Palace, and, after waiting a few moments, I was ushered into the King’s presence.  He stood in one of the drawing rooms on the ground floor looking out on the garden.  There stood with him in uniform Sir Edward Grey.  I entered and bowed.  He shook my hand, and I spoke my little piece of three or four sentences.

He replied, welcoming me and immediately proceeded to express his surprise and regret that a great and rich country like the United States had not provided a residence for its ambassadors.  “It is not fair to an ambassador,” said he; and he spoke most earnestly.

I reminded him that, although the lack of a home was an inconvenience, the trouble or discomfort that fell on an ambassador was not so bad as the wrong impression which I feared was produced about the United States and its Government, and I explained that we had had so many absorbing domestic tasks and, in general, so few absorbing foreign relations, that we had only begun to develop what might be called an international consciousness.

Sir Edward was kind enough the next time I saw him to remark that I did that very well and made a good impression on the King.

I could now begin my ambassadorial career proper—­call on the other ambassadors and accept invitations to dinners and the like.

I was told after I came from the King’s presence that the Queen would receive me in a few minutes.  I was shown upstairs, the door opened, and there in a small drawing room, stood the Queen alone—­a pleasant woman, very royal in appearance.  The one thing that sticks in my memory out of this first conversation with her Majesty was her remark that she had seen only one man who had been President of the United States—­Mr. Roosevelt.  She hoped he was well.  I felt moved to remark that she was not likely to see many former Presidents because the office was so hard a task that most of them did not long survive.

“I’m hoping that office will not soon kill the King,” she said.

In time Page obtained an entirely adequate and dignified house at 6 Grosvenor Square, and soon found that the American Ambassadorship had compensations which were hardly suggested by his first glimpse of the lugubrious Chancery.  He brought to this new existence his plastic and inquisitive mind, and his mighty gusto for the interesting and the unusual; he immensely enjoyed his meetings with the most important representatives of all types of British life.  The period of his