tressing_,
heartrending breathing to witness. I held her dear, dear hand in mine
to the very last, which I am truly thankful for! But the watching that
precious life going out was fearful! Alas! she never knew me! But she
was spared the pang of parting! How this will _grieve_ and _distress
you!_ _You_ who are now doubly precious to us. Good Alice was with us
all through, and _deeply_ afflicted, and wishes to say everything kind
to you. Bertie and Lenchen are now here--all much grieved, and have
seen her _sleeping_ peacefully and eternally! Dearest Albert is
dreadfully overcome--and well he may, for _she_ adored him! I feel
so truly _verwaist_. God bless and protect you. Ever your devoted and
truly unhappy Niece and Child,

VICTORIA R.

_P.S._--The devotion of dearest Mamma's ladies and maids is not to be
described. Their love and their devotion were _too touching_. There we
all were round her--the poor, good, old Clark, who is so devoted to us
all. Ever again, your devoted Child,

VICTORIA R.

[Footnote 9: The Duchess of Kent died on the 16th of March.
She had had a surgical operation in the arm, on account of an
abscess, a short time before, but till the 15th the medical
reports had been encouraging. On that day the Queen went to
Frogmore, and was with her mother at the time of her death.]

[Pageheading: BEREAVEMENT]

_Queen Victoria to the King of the Belgians._

WINDSOR CASTLE, _26th March 1861_.

MY DEAREST UNCLE,--Your sad little letter of the 21st reached me on
Saturday. On Sunday I took leave of those dearly beloved remains--a
dreadful moment; I had never been near a coffin before, but dreadful
and heartrending as it was, it was so beautifully arranged that it
would have pleased _her_, and most probably _she_ looked down and
blessed _us_--as we poor sorrowing mortals knelt around, overwhelmed
with grief! It was covered with wreaths, and the carpet strewed
with sweet, white flowers. _I_ and our daughters did _not_ go
_yesterday_--it would have been _far_ too much for _me_--and Albert
when he returned, with tearful eyes told me it was well I did not
go--so affecting had been the sight--so _universal_ the sympathy.

Poor little Arthur went too. I and my girls prayed at home together,
and dwelt on her happiness and peace.

But oh! dearest Uncle--the loss--the truth of it--which _I cannot, do
not_ realise even when I go (as I do _daily_) to Frogmore--the _blank_
becomes _daily