a glass of port-wine and
a sandwich, while the stage-manager was marshalling the people for the
first tableau, the principal singers being seated on chairs at the
side. What would most have struck those accustomed only to English
theatricals, was the respectable appearance of the chorus, so
different from the ragamuffin troop that fill up the back-ground of an
English scene. The Covent Garden chorus includes, at rehearsal, a
considerable number of well-dressed men in shining hats and new
paletots, many of whom are good music-teachers, not the less qualified
for that business by the opportunities they have in this establishment
of becoming familiar with the way in which the best works of the best
masters are executed by the best artists.

The rehearsal over, we turned our attention to the audience part of
the house, more particularly the Queen's box, of the privacy and
splendour of which even old _habitues_ have no idea. In the first
place, Her Majesty has a separate court-yard for entrance, in which
she may alight, which is a check not only upon obtrusive curiosity on
the part of the public, but upon the evil disposed; for although one
might naturally suppose, that if there is any individual who ought to
enjoy immunity from danger or disrespect, it would be a lady who is
exemplary in her public duties as a constitutional sovereign, as well
as in those of a consort and mother--experience has shewn the
fallaciousness of the idea.

The staircase is very noble, such as few mansions in London possess.
Passing through the vestibule, we enter the grand drawing-room, in the
centre of which is one of those tables that formed an ornament of the
Exhibition last year. The drapery is of yellow satin damask. The
principal feature of this drawing-room is the conservatory, which is
separated from it by one vast sheet of plate-glass, the gas-light
being contrived in such a way as to be unseen by those in the room,
although bringing out the colours of the flowers with the greatest
brilliancy.

Adjoining the drawing-room is the Queen's dressing-room; and between
the grand drawing-room and the royal box is the little drawing-room,
the walls of which are hung with blue satin damask, relieved by rich
gilt ornaments, mouldings, and bronzes, in the style of Louis Quinze.
The royal box itself is fitted up with crimson satin damask, a large
arm-chair at the extreme right of the front of the box being the one
Her Majesty usually occupies; but