The red sash was more suitable for Christmas, because red was a Christmas colour. She changed the sash. Yes, definitely the red. But Dagmar would like the blue.
The blue … the red … She changed half a dozen times and then decided that it was better to please Dagmar than wear the Christmas colour.
The bell had gone. Oh dear, she should be down now and it was difficult to tie the sash exactly right, which she must of course do.
The family were at the table when she arrived. Papa gave her a reproachful look, but as it was Christmas Eve she would not be punished by standing up to drink her coffee and not be given second helpings, or perhaps go without her sweet. But she was contrite because dear Papa cared so much that people were where they should be at precisely the appointed minute.
The children were chattering about the trees. They were bigger than last year, there were more candles and hadn’t the big tree looked wonderful? Little Thyra speculated on what the odd-shaped parcel in blue paper contained and wondered whether it was for her.
Louise and Christian exchanged glances. They were very happy with their little family. Christian hoped that they could go on enjoying these simple pleasures for a long time to come; Louise, more ambitious, was a little sad thinking that soon the children would be grown up and it would be necessary for them to marry and go away, for what could there be for any of them in Denmark – except Fredy, of course, who would follow his father to the throne.
After the meal it was present-giving time – the highlight of Christmas when the family assembled round the big tree and there were squeals of delight as paper crunched and gifts emerged and arms were flung round necks and the giver assured that it was just what the receiver had always wanted.
And when the excitement had died down they clustered round the grand piano and Louise played Christmas carols and hymns and they all sang together; then the older children took it in turns to play and Alix and Dagmar performed a duet which their parents loudly applauded.
Alix sat by her father afterwards who said very gently that he wanted to speak to her seriously.
‘You know, my dear, you are a good child but you have one distressing fault. You are constantly unpunctual.’
‘Yes, Papa, I’m so sorry.’
‘But, my darling child, it is no use being sorry only – although sorry you should be. You must try to rectify the fault.’
‘I do, Papa.’
A look of affectionate exasperation crossed Prince Christian’s face.
‘But, Alix, if you really tried how could you fail to succeed? It is so easy. You have to be at a certain spot at a certain time. What but your own carelessness can prevent you?’
‘It’s true, I know, Papa. But somehow I don’t think until I hear the gong and then I am in a fluster.’
‘But, my child, you must think. You must remember what time the gong goes – it is always precisely on the minute so you know it’s coming. You must be ready before it strikes and then … there you are at your place like the rest of us.’
‘But, Papa, is it so important?’
‘My dear child, it is of the utmost importance. It is something you will have to remember when you are older, for to keep people waiting is most impolite, giving the impression as it does of being in no haste to see them since you cannot make the effort to be there on time.’
‘Oh, Papa, I will try … I really will.’
He nodded. ‘I hope you were never late when you were in England.’
‘Well, not often … and it didn’t seem to be so important there.’
‘Of course it is important everywhere. Always remember that. And you saw the Queen. How fortunate you were … more fortunate than your brothers and sisters.’
‘Oh yes, it was a great adventure.’
‘Tell me now, what was the nicest thing about it all?’
She did not hesitate. ‘Coming home to you and Mama and the children and the Yellow Palace, and Bernstorff and Rumpenheim in the summer.’
Prince Christian smiled tenderly. ‘So it has not made you despise your home? I’m glad of that. What did you think of the Queen of England?’
‘Oh …’ Alix considered. ‘She is a little lady. You are rather surprised because you would imagine she should be big. She is kind and said she was glad to see me. She was a bit frightening, though – as though she wanted to be nice but was too important really.’
Prince Christian was silent for a moment. Then he said: ‘Shall I tell you a secret, Alix?’
‘Oh, Papa, yes.’
‘I might have married the Queen of England.’
‘Really, Papa. But what of Mama? You are married to her.’
‘This was before. A lot of letters passed between our governments and she married Prince Albert and I married your mama.’
Alix was struck by this awesome statement.
‘But if you had married the Queen she would have been our mama.’
‘The thought seems to disturb you. Don’t let it. It can’t happen now, you know. Besides, everything would have been different then.’
‘I might have been Alice or Lenchen.’
‘Oh, things don’t work out that way. Still, I think what happened was really for the best for us all, don’t you?’
Alix looked at the denuded Christmas tree, at Mama with Dagmar at the piano and Thyra standing by watching; and the boys with their heads together examining each other’s presents.
‘Oh yes, Papa,’ she said fervently. ‘It happened the best way.’
They had come back from Rumpenheim to Bernstorff. It had been a wonderful summer, with river trips and picnics and conversation. Cousin Mary had been there and she told Alix what a good impression she had made in England. The royal children had all enjoyed meeting her and the Queen had said she seemed a very pleasant little girl.
Cousin Mary said that one day Alix would have to marry and leave home. Had she ever thought of that?
Alix looked so alarmed that Mary did not pursue the subject and Alix quickly forgot it; it had to come, she knew, but it was years away, much too far to be worried about now especially at Rumpenheim when they were going for a trip to Frankfurt and to play Lotto that evening.
Mary did say, though, that she thought Alix ought to work harder with her English. Her German was good, her French was passable, but her English was not so good.
‘To begin with,’ said her cousin, ‘we will speak to each other this holiday in English.’
It was a great help, and she was sad as always to say goodbye to her dear cousin.
But it was pleasant to be back in Bernstorff which was almost like being at Rumpenheim, better, though, because it was so much nearer Copenhagen.
King Frederick called on them and they had the pea-soup and bacon that he always insisted on. He ate large quantities of it and drank lots of Danish beer. The girls had put on their best dresses for the occasion – to be changed for plainer ones as soon as the visitors had left. The Countess Danner who – unfortunately – accompanied him had an appetite almost as large as his, but she was not nearly as friendly.
After the meal the King put on a Turkish fez hat and brought out a huge pipe and then he started to drink Akvavit while Louise watched his glass speculatively so that Alix knew she was wondering how much more he was going to drink and whether they would have enough to satisfy him and how they were going to afford to replenish their stocks in anticipation of his next visit.