the other. After the trio they go on pouring out tea as if nothing
had happened, whereas for me it is an event. It is such perfection!

Countess Gigliucci comes sometimes and sings with me. Her voice is
still beautiful and clear as a bell. What must it have been in its
prime? In her letters to me she calls me "my delicious blackbird."

ROME, _March, 1883_.

The King of Sweden came to Rome on an official visit to their
Majesties. I suppose it is called official because he is staying as a
guest at the Quirinal, therefore he is hardly seen in private. You
remember that I saw a good deal of him when he was in Paris in 1867. He
was then hereditary Prince to the throne of Sweden, and was called
Prince Oscar. He only stayed three days at Rome. There was a gala
dinner to which all the diplomats were invited. He greeted me very
cordially, shook hands in his genial manner, and talked about the past
(sixteen years ago) as if it were yesterday. He said, smilingly:

"You see, since I have become King I have cut my hair."

I had no idea what he meant and looked puzzled.

"Don't you remember," he said, "you called me 'the _Hair_ Apparent' on
account of my long locks?"

"Oh, your Majesty," I said, "how could I have been so rude?"

"It was not rudeness," he said, kindly. "You said what you liked in
those days. You were not then a diplomat's wife."

The day of his departure from Rome we went to the station. The King was
very gracious, and said to Johan, "I hope you and your wife will come
some day to Sweden," and gave my hand an extra-hearty squeeze. A hearty
squeeze from his hand was something to remember!

* * * * *

The Queen has asked me to sing with her, and I go regularly twice a
week to the Quirinal at two o'clock. We sing all kinds of duets,
classical and the ultra-modern. The Queen's singing-master, Signor
Vera, and sometimes the composer, Signor Marchetti, accompany us--they
bring new music which has appeared, which we _dechiffrons_ under their
critical eyes. It is the greatest delight I have to be able to be with
her Majesty in such an informal way. She is so enchanting, so natural,
so gay, and so fascinating. No one can resist her. Am I not a greatly
privileged person? I presented Nina to her last week--her Majesty told
me to bring her with me on one of our singing-lesson days at half past
one--so we had a half-hour of conversation before the singing-master
came. The Queen said, af