hat night. His appearance filled her with dread--it seemed to
her, as she looked at him, that something terrible was to happen. Both
Laurence Irving and his wife were, however, in excellent spirits.
Canada treated them royally, and they were going back home full of
optimism, confident that the play that Laurence Irving was then
finishing--one dealing with Napoleon--was to prove the greatest success
of their careers.

We met at Winnipeg, also, a number of the brilliant men and women
journalists whose energy and brains are responsible for the many fine
papers that focus in this city. We had met such companions of our own
dispensation in other cities, in Ottawa, Vancouver, Montreal, Toronto
and Quebec. They were not merely keen and accomplished craftsmen, but
their hospitality to us was always of the most delightful generosity.

The Princess visit to Winnipeg was undertaken to give him the
opportunity of saying _au revoir_ to the West. At the vivid luncheon
he gave in the attractive Alexandra Hotel to all the leaders of the
West, men and women, he insisted that it was _au revoir_, and that so
well had the West treated him, so attractive was its atmosphere, that
he meant not merely to return, but to become something of a rancher
here in the "little place" he had bought in Alberta. He spoke of the
splendid spirit of the West, and the magnificent future that was the
West's for the grasping, and he left on all those who heard him an
impression of genuine affection for the people and the land with which
his journey had brought him in contact.

He himself left the West a "real scout." It is a mere truism to say
that his personality had conquered the West, as it had won for him
affection everywhere. His straightforward masculinity and his entire
lack of side, his cheerfulness and his keenness, his freedom from
"frills," as one man put it, had made him the friend of everybody. I
heard practically the same expressions of real affection from all
grades, from Chief Justice to car conductors. I heard, I think, but
one man pooh-pooh, not so much this universal regard for the Prince, as
a universal enthusiasm for something royal. A labour-leader, who
happened to be present, administered correction:

"That chap's all right," he insisted, and his word carried weight. "I
saw him in France, and there's not much that is wrong with him. If
you're as democratic as he is, then you're all right."

The brightest of dances, a gam