ilors. The Prince was more aloof. They
visited Louis Philippe at the Chateau d'Eu; they visited King Leopold in
Brussels. It happened that a still more remarkable Englishwoman was in
the Belgian capital, but she was not remarked; and Queen Victoria passed
unknowing before the steady gaze of one of the mistresses in M. Heger's
pensionnat. "A little stout, vivacious lady, very plainly dressed--not
much dignity or pretension about her," was Charlotte Bronte's comment
as the royal carriage and six flashed by her, making her wait on the
pavement for a moment, and interrupting the train of her reflections.
Victoria was in high spirits, and even succeeded in instilling a little
cheerfulness into her uncle's sombre Court. King Leopold, indeed, was
perfectly contented. His dearest hopes had been fulfilled; all his
ambitions were satisfied; and for the rest of his life he had only to
enjoy, in undisturbed decorum, his throne, his respectability, the table
of precedence, and the punctual discharge of his irksome duties.
But unfortunately the felicity of those who surrounded him was less
complete. His Court, it was murmured, was as gloomy as a conventicle,
and the most dismal of all the sufferers was his wife. "Pas de
plaisanteries, madame!" he had exclaimed to the unfortunate successor of
the Princess Charlotte, when, in the early days of their marriage, she
had attempted a feeble joke. Did she not understand that the consort
of a constitutional sovereign must not be frivolous? She understood, at
last, only too well; and when the startled walls of the state apartments
re-echoed to the chattering and the laughter of Victoria, the poor lady
found that she had almost forgotten how to smile.

Another year, Germany was visited, and Albert displayed the beauties of
his home. When Victoria crossed the frontier, she was much excited--and
she was astonished as well. "To hear the people speak German," she noted
in her diary, "and to see the German soldiers, etc., seemed to me
so singular." Having recovered from this slight shock, she found the
country charming. She was feted everywhere, crowds of the surrounding
royalties swooped down to welcome her, and the prettiest groups of
peasant children, dressed in their best clothes, presented her with
bunches of flowers. The principality of Coburg, with its romantic
scenery and its well-behaved inhabitants, particularly delighted her;
and when she woke up one morning to find herself in "dear Rosena