once takes
refuge in the conviction that his awkwardness, rudeness, or cruelty in
advancing his case was responsible for all the trouble.

"If she had been kind, I should have seen it all directly," said
Victoria. And in this it may very well be that Victoria was not
altogether wrong.

The position was, however, inconsistent with even moderate comfort.
There was a way of ending it, obvious, I suppose, to everybody save
myself, but seeming rather startling to my youthful mind. In six months
now Victoria would be eighteen, and eighteen is a marriageable age.
Victoria must be married; my mother and Hammerfeldt went
husband-hunting. As soon as I heard of the scheme I was ready with
brotherly sympathy, and even cherished the idea of interposing a
hitherto untried royal veto on such premature haste and cruel forcing of
a girl's inclination. Victoria received my advances with visible
surprise. Did I suppose, she asked, that she was so happy at home as to
shrink from marriage? Would not such a step be rather an emancipation
than a banishment? (I paraphrase and condense her observation.) Did I
not perceive that she must hail the prospect with relief? I was to know
that her mother and herself were at one on this matter; she was obliged
for my kindness, but thought that I need not concern myself in the
matter. Considerably relieved, not less puzzled, with a picture of
Victoria sobbing and the Baron walking (well watched) by the river's
brink, I withdrew from my sister's presence. It occurred to me that to
take a husband in order to escape from a mother was a peculiar step; I
have since seen reason to suppose that it is more common than I
imagined.

The history of my private life is (to speak broadly) the record of the
reaction of my public capacity on my personal position; the effect of
this reaction has been almost uniformly unfortunate. The case of
Victoria's marriage affords a good instance. It might have been that
here at least I should be suffered to play a fraternal and grateful
part. My fate and Hammerfeldt ruled otherwise. There were two persons
who suggested themselves as suitable mates for my sister; one was the
reigning king of a country which I need not name, the other was Prince
William Adolphus of Alt-Gronenstahl, a prince of considerable wealth and
unexceptionable descent but not in the direct succession to a throne,
not likely to occupy a prominent position in Europe. Victoria had never
quite forgiven fortune