n as
Lady Caithness must have noticed my difficulty in keeping a grave face
earlier in the afternoon!

Now comes a curious point. As we left the house Madame Bruegel in
expressing disappointment about the next evening, added: "And yet
somehow I think you will go after all."

"Yes," I said involuntarily. "I believe I _shall_ go, but I cannot think
how it will come about; nothing could be more decided than what we have
just heard, and I cannot possibly put off my journey to England the end
of this week."

I think we were both a little disappointed when no letter arrived by the
morning's post. "Local letters often come by second post," urged my
friend, who was very keen upon her presentiment.

A long morning at the Louvre prevented my reaching home till one P.M.,
when the _dejeuner a la fourchette_ was half way through its course. No
letter on my plate! So Madame Bruegel and I agreed that the wish must
have been father to the thought with both of us, and put the matter out
of our heads once for all.

At two-thirty P.M., however, a _depeche_ letter arrived for me.

Lady Caithness wrote to _beg that I would make a point of being with her
that evening by nine p.m._ "You will think this very inconsistent with
what I told you yesterday," she wrote, "but I said only what was the
exact truth, as matters then stood. It is the Queen herself who has
communicated with me this morning, and _insists_ upon your being present
this evening. The Abbe and I can only bow to this decision. I need not
tell you how pleased I shall be personally to greet you this evening."

I was again shown into the spacious bedroom of the Countess, where she
"received" in general, quite after the manner of the French kings in the
days of the old monarchy.

Her bed was quite a State bed too, with its beautiful silk furnishings
and heavy velvet hangings. On the wall behind this, was a very valuable
fresco painting, representing Jacob's ladder, with the angels ascending
and descending, executed by a famous modern artist.

We soon descended to the ground floor, and passing through the large
lecture-room, of which Lady Caithness had spoken, and which had
sufficient gilt and cane chairs to seat a large audience; we stepped
down some marble stairs into a small but exquisitely appointed room. It
was a sort of chapel, in fact, built "by the Queen's instructions," and
used for all purposes and occasions of direct communication with her. A
general impression r