There was no marked ceremony at these Royal parties, and everything was delightfully informal. There stand out in my memory a luncheon at Marlborough House, when the Princess of Wales gave me a lovely Russian cypher brooch, and a _tête-à-tête_ tea with her on another occasion when I took my babies with me. Jit was tremendously attracted by our beautiful hostess, who took his hand, saying as she did so: “What a pretty little boy! no wonder his mother was so anxious when he was ill.”
The kindness shown me by Queen Alexandra has never varied since those early days. Fate has dealt heavily with us both. We have each lost our idolised first-born. We have each lost the best of husbands. We have equally sorrowed. I think some subtle sympathy draws us together; each time I have visited her of late I have been struck afresh by her resigned expression, and I know that the Queen-Mother feels as I do, that “There’s not a joy the world can give like those it takes away.”
The Princess of Wales asked me one day what I thought of the shops in Bond Street, and if I often went to them. But somehow I never went into any except my dressmaker, Madame Oliver Holmes’s, and Hamley’s toy shop, where I felt like buying the whole shop, or spending all my time, it charmed me so much.
I enjoyed the theatres. One of the plays I shall ever remember was Shakespeare’s “Winter’s Tale.” Mary Anderson acted in it; it was magnificently staged, and Mary Anderson’s lovely face and good acting impressed me. One opera I went to—I forget the name—reminded me of our Indian love story, “Nal and Damayanti,” as swans come and bring love messages from lovers apart. Her Majesty had graciously lent us her box, and I think Madame Albani sang. I was much interested in the British Museum, and could have spent days and days looking at all the wonderful things in it. At the Naval Review I went to see the boats decorated with lights—the reflections in the water were splendid. I also went to see the Royal stable, a visit arranged for me by the late Lord Elphinstone, and Rajey was put in the Royal coach. I went to see Madame Tussaud’s, and was delighted with the figures, but had not the courage to go down into the Chamber of Horrors. I was much impressed by a large picture of the late Prince Imperial with the Zulus attacking him. I went to see the Tower of London and was much interested. We also visited Edinburgh: what a lovely town it is! We went to the castle, and my childhood came back to me as my eldest brother had told me the story of this castle when we were children. We went to Holyrood Palace one afternoon. The guide as usual began to show me every room and every corner of the palace relating all the stories attached, which took hours, and the Maharajah grew tired, as I kept him with me, telling him every time he wanted to go: “I won’t be long.” But when the guide brought some bits of the old paper from the walls in Queen Mary’s time the Maharajah got quite impatient. It rained and looked very dark and dismal that afternoon, and I brought away a very sad picture in my heart of the beautiful Queen being beheaded. I am happy to know that in our country there has never been a Queen so cruel as to murder her first cousin.