s came on to the stage, and
presenting me with roses, assured me that I had won the hearts of my
audience, after which I left the theatre.

Driving home, I opened all the taxi windows and was struck with the
architectural beauties of the streets. With the exception of Munich I
have never seen a modern town comparable to New York. The colour of the
stone and lightness of the air would put vitality into a corpse; and in
spite of a haunting recollection that the lady in the gallery had had
enough of me, I returned to the Ambassador happy though exhausted.

My daughter took me in the evening to a wonderful party given by Miss
Mabel Gerry. We wore our best clothes, but our taxi driver did not seem
satisfied, and before turning in to the magnificent court-yard, he
stopped, opened the door, and enquired rather sceptically if this was
where we were expected; concealing our mortification we urged him to
drive on.

There was something for every taste at Miss Gerry's beautiful house. I
started by sitting next to my dear old friend Mr. Harry White, and a
brilliant stranger Mr. Thomas Ridgeway; went on to play bridge, listened
to a fluent pianist, and finished by dancing unknown steps to a
wonderful band.

I am enunciating a platitude when I say the Americans are the finest
dancers in the world.

III: BOSTON AND WORCESTER

BOSTON AND WORCESTER

DISCOMFORT OF TRAVEL IN AMERICA--STAGE FRIGHT IN BOSTON--BOSTONIANS
INTELLIGENT AND COURTEOUS--JOHN SARGENT'S FRESCOES IN THE MUSEUM

On the 2nd of February, next morning, my friend and secretary Mr.
Horton, myself and maid arrived in Boston City after a comfortable
journey in a private compartment given to us by the courtesy of our
guard. I do not wish to say anything disagreeable, but except for the
beauty of the railway stations, the travelling arrangements in America
are far inferior to ours. Sitting erect on revolving chairs in public,
is a trial not lessened by an atmosphere in which you could force
pineapples. We were greeted upon our arrival by reporters and cameras.
It distresses me to stand blinking at the sun; as not being a beauty, I
know that my nose will always be more of a limb than a feature, and
trying to look pleasant results in my teeth coming out like tombstones
in the morning papers.

Left to ourselves, we went to examine the Symphony Hall, where I was to
speak that night. Arriving on the stage, I stood appalled. Feeling like
a midge upon a d