everyone as “Mon prince.”  Another matter difficult for a foreigner to grasp is the real status of Roumanian society, owing to the incessant divorce and subsequent remarriages.  Nearly every woman has been divorced at least once and married again, the result being, on the one hand, the most complicated questions of relationship, and, on the other, so many breaches of personal relations as to make it the most difficult task to invite twenty Roumanians, particularly ladies, to dinner without giving offence in some quarter.

In the days of the old regime it was one of the duties of the younger members of the Embassy to develop their budding diplomatic talents by a clever compilation of the list for such a dinner and a wise avoidance of any dangerous rock ahead.  But as the question of rank in Roumania is taken just as seriously as though it were authorised, every lady claims to have first rank—­the correct allotment of places at a dinner is really a question for the most efficient diplomatic capacities.  There were about a dozen ladies in Bucharest who would actually not accept an invitation unless they were quite sure the place of honour would be given to them.

My predecessor cut the Gordian knot of these difficulties by arranging to have dinner served at small separate tables, thus securing several places of honour, but not even by these means could he satisfy the ambition of all.

2

While at Sinaia I received the news of the assassination of the Archduke from Bratianu.  I was confined to bed, suffering from influenza, when Bratianu telephoned to ask if I had heard that there had been an accident to the Archduke’s train in Bosnia, and that both he and the duchess were killed.  Soon after this first alarm came further news, leaving no doubt as to the gravity of the catastrophe.  The first impression in Roumania was one of profound and sincere sympathy and genuine consternation.  Roumania never expected by means of war to succeed in realising her national ambitions; she only indulged in the hope that a friendly agreement with the Monarchy would lead to the union of all Roumanians, and in that connection Bucharest centred all its hopes in the Archduke and heir to the throne.  His death seemed to end the dream of a Greater Roumania, and the genuine grief displayed in all circles in Roumania was the outcome of that feeling.  Take Jonescu, on learning the news while in my wife’s drawing-room, wept bitterly; and the condolences that I received were not of the usual nature of such messages, but were expressions of the most genuine sorrow.  Poklewski, the Russian Ambassador, is said to have remarked very brutally that there was no reason to make so much out of the event, and the general indignation that his words aroused proved how strong was the sympathy felt in the country for the murdered Archduke.