Worry Gone, Art Engages Princess Lwoff-Parlaghy

Radiant in Restored Health, Green and Gold, She Talks of War and Hotel Bills.

“PLAIN WOMAN,” DOES NOT CARE FOR POMP

Titled Artist Entertains Mrs. Huntington in Her New Studio in the St. Regis Hotel.

For the first time since she left the Plaza because of trouble concerning a hotel bill amounting to something like $12,000 Princess Lwoff-Parlaghy yesterday saw a HERALD reporter. It was on the dot of five o’clock in the afternoon when the butler, garbed in his red swallow tail coat with brass coronet buttons, announced that there was a reporter to see the Princess. His Anglo-Saxon countenance beamed the instant the door opened and a flood of light poured into the little hall from the sitting room where sat the Princess, Frederick M. Delius, her executive representative; Richard E. Welden, her attorney, and Mrs. Robert P. Huntington, grandmother of Mrs. Vincent Astor.

Mrs. Huntington was seated on a sofa with the Princess. In the course of conversation it was elicited that General Benjamin F. Tracy had introduced the Princess to Mrs. Huntington. The Princess was in good spirits. She wore a sort of regal gown of green and gold with costly cream lace, and in her Titian hair was a gold and greenish band.

To keep up the color scheme — for the Princess knows all about that sort of thing, as she has painted the portraits of many of the prominent men of this city in addition to those of the Kaiser, Count von Moltke and Prince Bismarck — she had on her tiny feet golden shoes with French heels.

Her face showed no signs of worry over financial matters, and she told of her great delight at seeing a reporter. In a few days she hoped that all would be settled, and how much she regretted she could not say, that she was as yet unable to send something substantial to friends in Europe who were in a sad plight owing to the war.

Turns From Art to Politics.

For ten minutes or so there was no talk at all about hotel bills, about paintings or studios, Mrs. Huntington being very much interested in President Wilson, and Mr. Welden in telling about William Jennings Bryan’s “cross of gold” speech. At a further mention of President Wilson, however, the Princess declared that she regretted she had not been able to paint Mr. Wilson’s portrait. One of the reasons, she averred, was his recent bereavement.

There was a gentle rap on the door and the red coated, six foot butler announced that the waiter was outside with tea. The table was cleared of knickknacks and books, the china and cakes were set on the table and Mrs. Huntington and the Princess received their cups of steaming tea. Mr. Welden and Mr. Delius with bows offered sugar and cream and soon the Princess was ready to talk. But there was another interruption.

A maid from another room reported that Nikola Tesla, inventor, was on the telephone and wished to speak with the Princess. He was not in the hotel. In a few minutes the Princess returned from her telephone conversation and remarked to Mrs. Huntington that Mr. Tesla would come to see her the following morning.

“He has so many persons waiting to see him that he cannot come now,” said the Princess.

Mrs. Huntington said many nice things about the Princess while she was out of the room, and soon afterward the Princess expatiated upon the wonders of the St. Regis Hotel and then made a chance remark about her wonderful apartment in the Plaza. She had paid the Plaza almost $130,000 in the time she had been there and it was a shame that the trouble should have occurred, she said.

Treasures Worth More Than Bill.

“As for leaving the Plaza,” said the Princess, “I have little to say at present. The management was perhaps a trifle impatient in pressing for the payment of the claim of the hotel. Yes, and I had lived there five and a half years. Had I not art treasures of very great value? And did they not know that? I think that the Plaza management will concede that my wonderful treasures there were many times more valuable than the amount of my indebtedness.

“Yes, I enjoyed my studio there so much. It was there that I made my success in America. During the time I was there I arranged many little artistic details, one after another. And in the end my studio satisfied me so much. I therefore was distressed to leave all that and go away.

“It depressed me greatly, this turn in my affairs. I went to my home, Santa Maria, in the Catskills to rest and recuperate. Now I am once again strong and ready to get back to my work. I have some work which I must complete, and while away I received many inquiries from friends who have asked me to paint their portraits.

“In a day or two my studio will be arranged and I will be ready to paint. But it will take me days to get accustomed to my new surroundings. However, time like that will soon pass, and I have been so much comforted during this time of trouble by my many very kind friends in New York.

“In fact I did not know I had so many friends. Yes, and perhaps I was unkind in thinking that the persons in this city were cold and indifferent to me and my work. But now I know that it is different. Such kindness has been shown to me that I am more grateful than I can say.

Is Distressed by the War.

“Conditions in Europe also have distressed me. Have I not friends in every country? Now many of them are at the front in this terrible war. To me each mail brings lists of dead and wounded, and sometimes I see the names of many I know, and in the lists also are some of those who have been my intimate friends. This is hard for me.

“Then the war cuts off all hope of income from abroad. Instead of receiving help from there at this time I am constantly in receipt of letters from very dear friends telling me of their distress and asking me for money for their own relief. It makes me so unhappy to know that my own financial condition is such that I cannot aid them. However, I am now well and will work hard and perhaps soon I can arrange to send something in answer to these appeals. That’s what I mean to do.

“I want you to know that I am a simple, plain woman who is interested in her art only. If persons in this city are interested, too, in my art, then I am delighted. With all modesty I think that I can say that my success before coming to this country was quite complete. In Paris, Berlin and Vienna, in fact all the great art centres of Europe, I was honored by requests to paint men of greatest distinction. Yes, and art critics and art lovers were kind enough to give the highest praise for my work.

“When first I came here it was with the idea of staying a short time, perhaps two years. But somehow I came to love the Americans and their country. Now more and more I have come to realize that I am fast getting to be an American in thought and spirit. To me no place is so beautiful as my estate in the Catskill Mountains. There I find that beautiful quiet and charm. I find my greatest inspirations in the quiet and seclusion of the country.

Likes Beauty but Not Pomp.

“And yet it hurts me sometimes to think that some persons regard me as somebody fond of show and display. This is not so, I assure you all. I like color and life and beautiful things, but not pomp or show. Often have I thought that the newspapers were unkind in referring to my carriage, the liveries of my servants and my manner of living. My expenses of living have many times been referred to inaccurately. Do I not just live here as I did abroad before I came to this country?”

This was all the Princess had to say about that matter. She did not wish to detain the HERALD reporter, and soon another maid appeared to tell of a telephone call. She mentioned her dealings with some lawyers and declared to Mr. Huntington that she was satisfied she now had a brilliant lawyer.

In the small suite that the Princess now occupies she had done what she could to make her surroundings comfortable, but even though she has a butler, two maids, a personal representative and a lawyer, it is lonely compared to the Princess’ previous existence in the luxurious suite of the Plaza, where she had maids and men servants, a uniformed bodyguard, a couple of butlers, her own private physician and others in her entourage.

Just before the reporter left her a physician called to see the Princess, and downstairs were two other friends waiting to talk to her.

But the Princess, as she said “good afternoon,” seemed satisfied that life is worth while after all in a twenty-dollar-a-day suite in the St. Regis.