ng either "Mr." or "Dr.," she
should certainly be sent to bed. When the doctor came the next morning,
the little girl said, "Good-morning, Brown," and then hastily added,
"and good-night, Brown, for I am going to bed."

Of course the life of this queen of the greatest of all European
countries, and that of her husband, were not all made up of pleasant
domestic duties, and journeyings from Buckingham Palace to Osborne, the
summer home on the Isle of Wight, and to Balmoral in Scotland; infinite
in number were the demands made by the State on Victoria's time and on
her clear intelligence. Prince Albert, too, was unweariedly busied on
public matters. No great enterprise was considered fairly launched, no
public building was thought properly opened without a speech from the
Prince Consort. Victoria could not well have been made prouder of him
than she was on her marriage day, but she was happy beyond words to find
that the English people were coming to recognize his worth. They had
been suspicious of him at first, and had found fault with almost every
act of his. And indeed, they did not come to do him full justice until
after his death.

That men should have been found ready and willing to make attempts on
the life of this queen, who showed herself no less wise in ruling than
she was loving and womanly in her domestic life, seems well-nigh
incredible; but as one writer has said, Victoria was "the greatest royal
target in Europe." Repeated attempts were made to assassinate her, but
they were always made by fanatics or insane men, and were in no wise the
result of any general movement against her. Indeed, at each attempt she
endeared herself the more to her people by her firmness and
fearlessness, and by her willingness to show herself bravely in public.

The exquisitely happy home life of the queen was brought to a close, and
new public burdens were laid upon her, by the death of Prince Albert on
December fourteenth, 1861. Throughout his illness of but two weeks, the
queen was constantly with him, and not until the end was almost at hand
did she admit even to herself that there was no hope. She had so
earnestly desired that they might grow old together and that she might
never be left after his death, that she could not persuade herself that
he was really to die. Her account in her diary of his illness and death
is most beautiful. His tenderness for her never failed, and when,
shortly before his death, when he knew no one