e whole experience greatly disheartened
me, but no doubt it was good for my soul.

During the Copenhagen meeting we were given a banquet by the City
Council, and in the course of his speech of welcome one of the city
fathers airily remarked that he hoped on our next visit to Copenhagen
there would be women members in the Council to receive us. At the time
this seemed merely a pleasant jest, but two years from that day a bill
was enacted by Parliament granting municipal suffrage to the women of
Denmark, and seven women were elected to the City Council of Copenhagen.
So rapidly does the woman suffrage movement grow in these inspiring
days!

Recalling the International Council of 1899 in London, one of my most
vivid pictures has Queen Victoria for its central figure. The English
court was in mourning at the time and no public audiences were being
held; but we were invited to Windsor with the understanding that,
although the Queen could not formally receive us, she would pass
through our lines, receiving Lady Aberdeen and giving the rest of us
an opportunity to courtesy and obtain Her Majesty's recognition of the
Cause. The Queen arranged with her chamberlain that we should be given
tea and a collation; but before this refreshment was served, indeed
immediately after our arrival, she entered her familiar little pony-cart
and was driven slowly along lines of bowing women who must have looked
like a wheat-field in a high wind.

Among us was a group of Indian women, and these, dressed in their native
costumes, contributed a picturesque bit of brilliant color to the scene
as they deeply salaamed. They arrested the eye of the Queen, who stopped
and spoke a few cordial words to them. This gave the rest of us an
excellent opportunity to observe her closely, and I admit that my
English blood stirred in me suddenly and loyally as I studied the plump
little figure. She was dressed entirely and very simply in black, with a
quaint flat black hat and a black cape. The only bit of color about her
was a black-and-white parasol with a gold handle. It was, however, her
face which held me, for it gave me a wholly different impression of the
Queen from those I had received from her photographs. Her pictured eyes
were always rather cold, and her pictured face rather haughty; but there
was a very sweet and winning softness in the eyes she turned upon the
Indian women, and her whole expression was unexpectedly gentle and
benignant. Behind her