Indeed, I think this matter of travelling is one of the most curious in the world.  I cannot understand why it is that to get into a train or a boat causes men and women to leave off restraint and to act in a primitive way.  Why should the companionship of the open road be the supreme test of friendship? and why should one feel a certain fear of getting to know people too well on a journey?  The last friends I travelled with were very careful indeed, and we used to reckon up accounts and divide the price of a bottle of “vin ordinaire” equally.  My friends to-day seem inclined to do themselves very well, and to scatter largesse everywhere.

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Stockholm. 21 October.—­After a long day in the train we reached Stockholm yesterday evening, and went to the usual “Grand Hotel.”  This time it is very “grand,” and very expensive.  Mr. Bevan has a terrible pink boudoir-bedroom, which costs L3 per night, and I have a small room on the fourth floor, which costs 17s. 6d. without a bath.  There is rather a nice court in the middle of the house, with flowers and a band and tables for dinner, but the sight of everyone “doing himself well” always makes me feel a little sick.  The wines and liqueurs, and the big cigars at two shillings each, and the look of repletion on men’s faces as they listen to the band after being fed, somewhat disgust me.

One’s instinct is to dislike luxury, but in war-time it seems horrible.  We ourselves will probably have to rough it badly soon, so I don’t mind, but it’s a side of life that seems to me as beastly as anything I know.  Fortunately, the luxury of an hotel is minimised by the fact that there are no “necessaries,” and one lives in an atmosphere of open trunks and bags, with things pulled out of them, which counterbalances crystal electric fittings and marble floors.

We rested all this morning, lunched out, and in the afternoon went to have tea with the Crown Prince and Princess of Sweden.  They were very delightful.  The British Minister’s wife, Lady Isobel Howard, went with us.  The Princess had just finished reading my “Diary of the War,” and was very nice about it.  The children, who came in to tea, were the prettiest little creatures I have ever seen, with curly hair, and faces like the water-colour pictures of a hundred years ago.  The Princess herself is most attractive, and reminds one of the pictures of Queen Victoria as a young woman.  Her sensitive face is full of expression, and her colour comes and goes as she speaks of things that move her.

This afternoon we went to tea at the Legation with the Howards.  The House is charmingly situated on the Lake, with lovely trees all about it.  It isn’t quite finished yet, but will be very delightful.