and J., who passed the evening in the smoking-room with his
Majesty, said that he never saw the King so depressed as he was this
evening.

The Queen came up to me directly after dinner, saying: "What _were_ you
and the King talking about? You both looked so serious and sad."

I told her.

She said, "The King has such a good heart."

The thought of the poor young fellow who was to be shot kept me awake,
and I thought at five o'clock that I heard the report of guns, but I
was not sure. My imagination was so keen that I could have pictured
anything to myself.

The first thing the King said to me at luncheon was, "Did you hear this
morning?"

I told him I heard something, but I dreaded to think what it might have
meant.

"Alas!" he said, as his eyes filled with tears, "it is too true, I hate
to think of it."

We left Monza at three o'clock this afternoon, I cannot tell you how
kind their Majesties were to me! The Queen kissed me good-by and said,
"_Au revoir a Rome_."

The King gave me his arm and went down the steps of the grand staircase
of the principal entrance with me and put me himself in the landau.
"You do not know what an honor this is," said Signor Peruzzi--as if I
did not appreciate it!

We drove to the station in state and traveled in the royal compartment
to Milan.... We intended to leave for Rome and home this evening, but
I feel too tired to do anything but send to you these few lines and go
to bed.

To-morrow night will find us in the Palazzo Tittoni, where the children
already have arrived.

ROME, _January, 1885_.

Dear Aunt Maria,--Just now we are reveling in Liszt. Rome is wild over
him, and one leaves no stone unturned in order to meet him. Fortunate
are those who have even a glimpse of him, and thrice blessed are those
who _know_ and hear him. He is the prince of musicians--in fact, he is
treated like a prince. He always has the precedence over every one;
even Ambassadors--so tenacious of their rights--give them up without
hesitation. Every one is happy to pay this homage to genius.

We met him the first time at M. de Schloezer's dinner. Schloezer, with
his usual tact, plied him well with good food, gave him the best of
wines and a superlative cigar. (Liszt is a great epicure and an
inveterate smoker.) M. de Schloezer never mentioned the word "music,"
but made Liszt talk, and that was just the thing Liszt wanted to do,
until, seeing that he was not expected to play, he was crazy to