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 altogether
abandoned 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,