ommonplaces to me.

Johann George and Isabella talked automobiles, not to let us forget they
are millionaires.

"How much did you pay for my blue car?" asked Isabella.

"Not much," replied Johann George; "sixty thousand francs, if I
recollect rightly."

"My allowance for a whole year." I smiled my sweetest, and the King
looked disapprovingly at the braggarts.

For ill manners recommend me to a Russian-Jew upstart or to a Royal
Highness.

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE SHAH OF PERSIA FALLS IN LOVE WITH ME

The "animal" and his show of diamonds and rubies--Overcome by love
he treats me like a lady of the harem--On the defensive--The King of
kings an ill-behaved brute--Eats like a pig and affronts
Queen---Wiped off greasy hands on my state robe--When ten thousand
gouged-out eyes carpeted his throne--Offers of jewels--"Does he take
me for a ballet girl?"--The Shah almost compromises me--King,
alarmed, abruptly ends dinner--I receive presents from him.

DRESDEN, _November 20, 1894_.

Lover No. two. Very much in earnest, like the first, but I--extremely
distant this time, though I accepted some emeralds and sapphires as big
as dove's eggs. The Shah of Persia is the happy-unhappy man.

The King and all the Princes went to the railway station to receive him.
The Queen and Princesses, our entourage behind us, assembled in the
throne room to do honor to the "animal." To designate him otherwise
would be callow flattery.

But his diamonds and rubies fairly dazzled us. Nothing like it in
Europe, and our gala uniforms, compared with his, like stage tiaras to
the Russian Crown jewels!

Though he had eyes for me only, I didn't like him a bit. He is a little
fellow, unsecure on his pins. And like the Balkan princeling I met in
Vienna, looks as though there was a strain of Jewish blood in his veins.

Like a true Oriental potentate, he wasted not a minute's time on the
Queen and my sisters-in-law, but began making love to me as soon as he
entered. The King had to take him by the arm to remind him that his
first greetings were due to her Majesty. Poor Carola! Her face looked
like parchment, much interlined, and the point of her nose was as
conspicuous as usual.

There's nothing elegant about this "King of kings," and his French, like
his manners, is atrocious. He addressed a few set phrases to the Queen,
then attacked me--"attacked" is the right word. If I hadn't been on the
defensive, I thi