Her Majesty was most gracious; no one could have been more so.  We remained talking until a lackey announced that Johan’s audience was finished and that the Emperor was waiting in the dining-room for us.  The Kaiserin kindly took me by the arm, and we went together into the adjoining salon, where we found the Emperor, the Princess Victoria Augusta, Johan, William von Kidderling (Minister of Foreign Affairs), who is always present at these official audiences, a chamberlain, an adjutant—­not more than ten people in all.

The Kaiser, on seeing me, kissed my hand, and was, as usual, most kind and altogether delightful.  I sat at his left, the young Princess being at his right.  I tried to say how grieved we were at the idea of leaving Berlin, where we had spent ten happy years.  He was gracious enough to say that both he and the Empress were very sorry to lose us.  He said many appreciative things about what I had written in Harper’s, and asked many questions showing that he had really read them.  He seemed interested to hear about the Emperor Napoleon and the life at Compiegne.  He said that he met Empress Eugenie for the first time when in Norway, three years ago.  He had made a visit to her on her yacht, and she had “honored” him by taking tea with him on the Hohenzollern.  He said, “How beautiful she must have been when she was young!”

“I saw her,” I replied, “last spring at her villa at Cape Martin.  She is still beautiful, though she is eighty years old.”

“Eighty years!” cried the Kaiser, “and still a charmeuse!  That is unique.”

All through luncheon I was thinking that this was the last time I should be talking to the interesting and wonderful charmeur who was sitting next to me.  The Kaiser has a way of fixing those discerning gray eyes of his on you when he talks, and you have the feeling that he is sifting and weighing you in his mind—­and when he smiles his face lights up with humor and interest.  You feel as if a life-buoy were keeping you afloat.  He has that wonderful gift of making people appear at their best.  I gave him my book after luncheon.  It looks very fitting in its red morocco binding.  He appeared greatly delighted with it and begged me to write my name on the first page, which, of course, I was happy to do.

The Empress exclaimed:  “’Do give me one, too!  Once the Emperor has it, I shall never get it.”

The Kaiser’s last words to us were, “Promise not to forget Berlin!”

Forget Berlin—­never!