_Rome,
December._
Your letter came yesterday telling of your visit to Black Horse Farm,
and as for spending our honeymoon there, it would be a bit out of
Paradise! But don’t, Polly, don’t, I beg of you, put off announcing
your engagement in New York. Think of the position it puts me in; as
you know, Rome is all agog with it. Ask your Aunt frankly why she is
so hesitant. Apparently she liked me, and she offered no objections in
Europe to what she must have known was coming. In any case she cannot
force you to accept the attentions of the Prince.
I wish, dearest, you might have been at the diplomatic reception at
the Court, at the Quirinal, the other evening. How sweet you would
have looked in your Court dress! I was overwhelmed, absolutely
overwhelmed by congratulations and good wishes. Even the ministers and
chiefs of missions seemed to know of my great happiness and took the
occasion to say nice things. The world does indeed love a lover. When
I reached my apartment I danced the Highland fling with two umbrellas
crossed together for swords, and felt like sliding down the banisters,
too!
At Court the reception is always a very fine function; first to rattle
through the entrance of the palace, across the court to the foot of
the broad staircase where the big _portiers_ in red liveries salute
and bow, then up the brilliantly-lighted, crimson-carpeted staircase
to the huge _antecamera_ hung with tapestries, a vast chamber where a
company of splendid _corazzieri_ in gleaming helmets and cuirasses
stand at attention and salute each Ambassador.
The reception-room is magnificent, and there the diplomats in their
uniforms, gaudy with all sorts of tinsel plaques, stars, crescents,
and gold embroidery, stand about till the approach of the Royalties is
announced. Then they bustle into line according to precedence--a
procession that reaches around the room, each Ambassador with his
staff behind him. Thereupon the King and Queen arrive! They bow; we
all bow. His Majesty shakes hands with the Ambassadors, and makes
conversation. One by one, the secretaries step forward and are
addressed, while the Queen speaks only to the Chiefs of Missions.
Meanwhile the Ladies-in-waiting stand in a row arranged opposite; so
do we all remain for over an hour and a half.
In conversation with Pan this evening he let it slip out that the
Prince was going to America before long on a secret mission. I have
no idea what he is up to. Don’t delay, my sweetheart, in announcing
our engagement--write me that you love me.
P. S. Really I do not know where Mona Lisa has gone, and I am
interested in nobody but you, dear.
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