ittle, who,
by the sheer force of an inherent grandeur, completely threw her adorned
and beautiful companion into the shade.

There were tears when the moment came for parting, and Victoria felt
"quite wehmuthig," as her guests went away from Windsor. But before long
she and Albert paid a return visit to France, where everything was very
delightful, and she drove incognito through the streets of Paris in a
"common bonnet," and saw a play in the theatre at St. Cloud, and, one
evening, at a great party given by the Emperor in her honour at the
Chateau of Versailles, talked a little to a distinguished-looking
Prussian gentleman, whose name was Bismarck. Her rooms were furnished
so much to her taste that she declared they gave her quite a home
feeling--that, if her little dog were there, she should really imagine
herself at home. Nothing was said, but three days later her little
dog barked a welcome to her as she entered the apartments. The Emperor
himself, sparing neither trouble nor expense, had personally arranged
the charming surprise. Such were his attentions. She returned to England
more enchanted than ever. "Strange indeed," she exclaimed, "are the
dispensations and ways of Providence!"

The alliance prospered, and the war drew towards a conclusion. Both the
Queen and the Prince, it is true, were most anxious that there should
not be a premature peace. When Lord Aberdeen wished to open negotiations
Albert attacked him in a "geharnischten" letter, while Victoria rode
about on horseback reviewing the troops. At last, however, Sebastopol
was captured. The news reached Balmoral late at night, and in a few
minutes Albert and all the gentlemen in every species of attire sallied
forth, followed by all the servants, and gradually by all the population
of the village-keepers, gillies, workmen--"up to the top of the cairn."
A bonfire was lighted, the pipes were played, and guns were shot off.
"About three-quarters of an hour after Albert came down and said the
scene had been wild and exciting beyond everything. The people had
been drinking healths in whisky and were in great ecstasy." The "great
ecstasy," perhaps, would be replaced by other feelings next morning;
but at any rate the war was over--though, to be sure, its end seemed as
difficult to account for as its beginning. The dispensations and ways of
Providence continued to be strange.

IV

An unexpected consequence of the war was a complete change in the
relations b