another occasion, Dear Ferdinand came and sat near me and talked so dearly and

sensibly. I do SO love him. Dear Augustus sat near me and talked with me, and
he is also a dear good young man, and is very handsome." She could not quite

decide which was the handsomer of the two. "On the whole," she concluded, "I
think Ferdinand handsomer than Augustus, his eyes are so beautiful, and he has

such a lively clever expression; BOTH have such a sweet expression; Ferdinand
has something QUITE BEAUTIFUL in his expression when he speaks and smiles, and

he is SO good." However, it was perhaps best to say that they were "both very
handsome and VERY DEAR." But shortly afterwards two more cousins arrived, who

threw all the rest into the shade. These were the Princes Ernest and Albert,
sons of her mother's eldest brother, the Duke of Saxe-Coburg. This time the

Princess was more particular in her observations. "Ernest," she remarked," is
as tall as Ferdinand and Augustus; he has dark hair, and fine dark eyes and

eyebrows, but the nose and mouth are not good; he has a most kind, honest, and
intelligent expression in his countenance, and has a very good figure. Albert,

who is just as tall as Ernest but stouter, is extremely handsome; his hair is
about the same colour as mine; his eyes are large and blue, and he has a

beautiful nose and a very sweet mouth with fine teeth; but the charm of his
countenance is his expression, which is most delightful; c'est a la fois full

of goodness and sweetness, and very clever and intelligent." "Both my
cousins," she added, "are so kind and good; they are much more formes and men

of the world than Augustus; they speak English very well, and I speak it with
them. Ernest will be 18 years old on the 21st of June, and Albert 17 on the

26th of August. Dear Uncle Ernest made me the present of a most delightful
Lory, which is so tame that it remains on your hand and you may put your

finger into its beak, or do anything with it, without its ever attempting to
bite. It is larger than Mamma's grey parrot." A little later, "I sat between

my dear cousins on the sofa and we looked at drawings. They both draw very
well, particularly Albert, and are both exceedingly fond of music; they play

very nicely on the piano. The more I see them the more I am delighted with
them, and the more I love them... It is delightful to be with them; they are

so fond of being occupied too; they are quite an example for any young
person." When, after a stay of three weeks, the time came for the young men

and their father to return to Germany, the moment of parting was a melancholy
one. "It was our last HAPPY HAPPY breakfast, with this dear Uncle and those

DEAREST beloved cousins, whom I DO love so VERY VERY dearly; MUCH MORE DEARLY
than any other cousins in the WORLD. Dearly as I love Ferdinand, and also good

Augustus, I love Ernest and Albert MORE than them, oh yes, MUCH MORE... They
have both learnt a good deal, and are very clever, naturally clever,

particularly Albert, who is the most reflecting of the two, and they like very
much talking about serious and instructive things and yet are so VERY VERY

merry and gay and happy, like young people ought to be; Albert always used to
have some fun and some clever witty answer at breakfast and everywhere; he

used to play and fondle Dash so funnily too... Dearest Albert was playing on
the piano when I came down. At 11 dear Uncle, my DEAREST BELOVED cousins, and

Charles, left us, accompanied by Count Kolowrat. I embraced both my dearest
cousins most warmly, as also my dear Uncle. I cried bitterly, very bitterly."

The Princes shared her ecstasies and her italics between them; but it is clear
enough where her secret preference lay. "Particularly Albert!" She was just

seventeen; and deep was the impression left upon that budding organism by the
young man's charm and goodness and accomplishments, and his large blue eyes

and beautiful nose, and his sweet mouth and fine teeth.
IV

King William could not away with his sister-in-law, and the Duchess fully
returned his antipathy. Without considerable tact and considerableforbearance

their relative positions were well calculated to cause ill-feeling; and there
was very little tact in the composition of the Duchess, and no forbearance at

all in that of his Majesty. A bursting, bubbling old gentleman, with
quarterdeck gestures, round rolling eyes, and a head like a pineapple, his

sudden elevation to the throne after fifty-six years of utter insignificance
had almost sent him crazy. His natural exuberance completely got the best of

him; he rushed about doing preposterous things in an extraordinary manner,
spreadingamusement and terror in every direction, and talking all the time.

His tongue was decidedly Hanoverian, with its repetitions, its
catchwords--"That's quite another thing! That's quite another thing!"--its

rattling indomitability, its loud indiscreetness. His speeches, made
repeatedly at the most inopportune junctures, and filled pell-mell with all

the fancies and furies that happened at the moment to be whisking about in his
head, were the consternation of Ministers. He was one part blackguard, people

said, and three parts buffoon; but those who knew him better could not help
liking him--he meant well; and he was really good-humoured and kind-hearted,

if you took him the right way. If you took him the wrong way, however, you
must look out for squalls, as the Duchess of Kent discovered.

She had no notion of how to deal with him--could not understand him in the
least. Occupied with her own position, her own responsibilities, her duty, and

her daughter, she had no attention to spare for the peppery susceptibilities
of a foolish, disreputable old man. She was the mother of the heiress of

England; and it was for him to recognise the fact--to put her at once upon a
proper footing--to give her the precedence of a dowager Princess of Wales,

with a large annuity from the privy purse. It did not occur to her that such
pretensions might be galling to a king who had no legitimate child of his own,

and who yet had not altogetherabandoned the hope of having one. She pressed
on, with bulky vigour, along the course she had laid out. Sir John Conroy, an

Irishman with no judgment and a great deal of self-importance, was her
intimate counsellor, and egged her on. It was advisable that Victoria should

become acquainted with the various districts of England, and through several
summers a succession of tours--in the West, in the Midlands, in Wales--were

arranged for her. The intention of the plan was excellent, but its execution
was unfortunate. The journeys, advertised in the Press, attracting

enthusiastic crowds, and involving official receptions, took on the air of
royal progresses. Addresses were presented by loyal citizens, the delighted

Duchess, swelling in sweeping feathers and almost obliterating the diminutive
Princess, read aloud, in her German accent, gracious replies prepared

beforehand by Sir John, who, bustling and ridiculous, seemed to be mingling
the roles of major-domo and Prime Minister. Naturally the King fumed over his

newspaper at Windsor. "That woman is a nuisance!" he exclaimed. Poor Queen
Adelaide, amiable though disappointed, did her best to smooth things down,

changed the subject, and wrote affectionate" target="_blank" title="a.亲爱的">affectionate letters to Victoria; but it was
useless. News arrived that the Duchess of Kent, sailing in the Solent, had

insisted that whenever her yacht appeared it should be received by royal
salutes from all the men-of-war and all the forts. The King declared that

these continual poppings must cease; the Premier and the First Lord of the
Admiralty were consulted; and they wrote privately to the Duchess, begging her

to waive her rights. But she would not hear of it; Sir John Conroy was
adamant. "As her Royal Highness's CONFIDENTIAL ADVISER," he said, "I cannot

recommend her to give way on this point." Eventually the King, in a great
state of excitement, issued a special Order in Council, prohibiting the firing

of royal salutes to any ships except those which carried the reigning
sovereign or his consort on board.

When King William quarrelled with his Whig Ministers the situation grew still
more embittered, for now the Duchess, in addition to her other shortcomings,

was the political partisan of his enemies. In 1836 he made an attempt to
prepare the ground for a match between the Princess Victoria and one of the

sons of the Prince of Orange, and at the same time did his best to prevent the
visit of the young Coburg princes to Kensington. He failed in both these

objects; and the only result of his efforts was to raise the anger of the King
of the Belgians, who, forgetting for a moment his royal reserve, addressed an

indignant letter on the subject to his niece. "I am really ASTONISHED," he
wrote, "at the conduct of your old Uncle the King; this invitation of the

Prince of Orange and his sons, this forcing him on others, is very
extraordinary... Not later than yesterday I got a half-official communication

from England, insinuating that it would be HIGHLY desirable that the visit of
YOUR relatives SHOULD NOT TAKE PLACE THIS YEAR--qu'en dites-vous? The

relations of the Queen and the King, therefore, to the God-knows-what degree,
are to come in shoals and rule the land, when YOUR RELATIONS are to be

FORBIDDEN the country, and that when, as you know, the whole of your relations
have ever been very dutiful and kind to the King. Really and truly I never

heard or saw anything like it, and I hope it will a LITTLE ROUSE YOUR SPIRIT;
now that slavery is even abolished in the British Colonies, I do not

comprehend WHY YOUR LOT ALONE SHOULD BE TO BE KEPT A WHITE LITTLE SLAVEY IN
ENGLAND, for the pleasure of the Court, who never bought you, as I am not

aware of their ever having gone to any expense on that head, or the King's
ever having SPENT A SIXPENCE FOR YOUR EXISTENCE... Oh, consistency and

political or OTHER HONESTY, where must one look for you!"
Shortly afterwards King Leopold came to England himself, and his reception was

as cold at Windsor as it was warm at Kensington. "To hear dear Uncle speak on
any subject," the Princess wrote in her diary, "is like reading a highly

instructive book; his conversation is so enlightened, so clear. He is
universally admitted to be one of the first politicians now extant. He speaks

so mildly, yet firmly and impartially, about politics. Uncle tells me that
Belgium is quite a pattern for its organisation, its industry, and prosperity;

the finances are in the greatest perfection. Uncle is so beloved and revered