bishop, when his hands were petrified with cold, would sometimes let a child slip in, merely remarking indifferently, "Give me another."
I drove up to the Palace in my Uncle de Baranoff's Court equipage—I was staying with them at the time—which was drawn by a pair of prancing black horses, the men wearing scarlet and gold liveries contrasting vividly with the dazzling whiteness of the snow.
I was met at the foot of the staircase and escorted by Vicomte de Salignac-Fénelon, an attaché at the French Embassy, who whispered in my ear very discreetly:
"We may shortly be reduced to ashes."
"If that is so," said I, "we shall die in good company."
Every one at that time felt that he was living on a volcano, the formidable irruption of which might break out at any moment.
The various members of the Diplomatic Corps asked to be presented to me in turn, amongst them Count Berchthold, at that time Councillor at the Austro-Hungarian Embassy, who, since then and up to the time the war broke out, has played such an important role in his country's affairs, subsequently becoming Austrian Ambassador in Petrograd before the war and then Minister for Foreign Affairs in Vienna at the beginning of the war.
It is a privilege granted to Hungarian diplomats to wear their Magyar costumes on all State occasions, and certainly Count Berchthold was strikingly distinguished looking in his!
