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January 25.

ERTAINLY I had to come to Russia to be appreciated. I have been gradually discovering this for some time, but a realizing sense of it burst upon me yesterday, at the marriage of "Her Imperial Highness the Grand Duchess Anastasia Michaelovna" to "His Royal Highness, My Lord, the Hereditary Grand Duke Frederic of Mechlenburg-Schwerin," all in very large capitals. How small "Mr." and "Mrs." sound after that!

The wedding took place in the palace chapel, the scene of the christening. There are only three or four days in the week when members of the Greek Church may marry, and of these Friday and Sunday seem to be the favorites.

I am beginning to feel quite at home in the palace, but have not yet reached the point of wishing to be maid of honor. Such gilded servitude would not suit me. Give me rather a floor to scrub and a good brush to do it with, and let me keep my independence.

Among the gentlemen of the palace who met us in the first hall which we entered was Mr. Cheremenieff.