ly breeze brings the yellow
leaves streaming to the ground. There are gorgeous hats on the lines of
sparrows nests, and manifold draperies and corduroys and ermines and
purple things, with presumably good-looking women inside. We men run to
purple ties this year, quite a plucky contrast to our regulation
toppers, black coats and sober tweed trousers. And one unto the other
says, "Hillo--you here again! Who'd have expected to see you, dear
fellow! What sort of bag did you get; good sport, eh?" "Oh,
good--good--awfully good! Such a good year all round, you know, and
partridges, they say, are splendid; hasn't been such a good season for
years; awfully sorry to miss 'em. And when do you go back?--On the
_Egypt_!--Oh, by Jove! won't there be a crowd! Horrid bore, you
know--'pon my word everyone is goin' East now; you can't get away from
people anywhere! It's the Prince's visit you know; what I mean is, it's
such a draw, don't you know."

Monday morning in Regent Street.--Sauntering with St C., looking at the
crowd and incubators and buying things we could probably get just as
well in Bombay; but Indian ink and colours, and these really important
things we dare not leave behind. What a pleasant street it is to saunter
in once or twice in a year or so; what a variety of nationalities and
pretty faces there are to see. The air is fresh and autumnal, and
overhead a northerly breeze blows wisps of white cloud across a bright
blue sky, and just floats out the French Tricolours and the Union Jacks
with which the street is decorated. The houses on one side are in quite
hot sun; the other side of the street is in cold bluey shade, which
extends more than half across the road. A cart crawls up the shaded
side, leaving a track of yellow sand in its wake; someone is coming, and
the crowd waits patiently.... Now mounted police appear in the distant
haze and come trotting towards us, and the guards with glittering
breastplates are rattling past and away in a breath! Then outriders and
a carriage, and a brown face, moustached and bearded, and the Prince
goes by, and the crowd cheers--and I pray we may both get a tiger. Then
the King passes with Lord Minto, I think. We have come to London for
something!

Possibly in the fulness of time we may see kings in our Northern Capital
oftener than we do now. We need ceremonies, a little sand on the street
occasionally, and a parade or two--ceremonies are the expression of
inward feelings; without