very prince
according to his rank, sometimes with two, one on each side, and the
Prince walked with two ladies. Each tour of the _salon_ they made they
stopped in front of the Emperor and bowed and received their next
partner. Fancy what fatigue!

The storm which we had expected now really burst upon us. Peals of
thunder mingled with the strains of the orchestra, and almost shook
the ground.

At eleven o'clock the Princess had danced with every one and had made
hundreds of courtesies, and on the signal given by their Majesties
retired with her suite. We went down the _Hoelletreppe_ (in English,
_hell-stairs_), a rather diabolical name, but I hope it was paved with
better intentions than the _Wendeltreppe_, where we went up. My
intention was, _bed_.

We found our carriages and drenched coachman and dragged our trains
home to their resting-places.

We had been eight hours under arms.

Every one received a white ribbon with a little gold fringe on the
end, bearing the monogram of the married couple. It was a _honi soit
qui mal y pense_ remembrance of the royal wedding.

Prince Wilhelm Hohenzollern,[2] cousin of the Emperor, is a great
philatelist, and brought his magnificent collection of albums (eight
or ten large ones) to show me, and a pile of duplicates. His victoria
was quite filled when he drove up to our door, and his _chasseur_ had
to make two trips to bring them all up. Collectors of postage-stamps
make a brotherhood in themselves. He knew each stamp in his books, and
explained all to us.

[2] Father of the princess who married the young ex-King
of Portugal, Manuel, in 1913.

He has twelve thousand! I brought out my little collection very
shyly--it was so insignificant beside his. We passed two hours going
through the two collections. He left six thousand duplicates with me
to look over and chose from, so my collection was enriched by one
thousand new specimens. He told me he had inherited a whole collection
from his uncle, the King of Rumania. He came to drink with us, and was
always most amiable. He does not play cards, nor is he musical in any
way, therefore conversation was our only resource. I brought in all my
animals and put them through their tricks; the parrot played up
wonderfully. He followed me about the room, sat on my shoulder, sang,
and whistled. What amused people most was, when I sang "Medje," a very
sentimental song, he imitated a _rire-fou_ which seemed so
inappropriate t