seeing the old King, in one of his rare
lucid intervals, driving through London, when he was enthusiastically
cheered.

She was also the last person alive who had been at Carlton House which
was pulled down in 1826. My mother at the age of twelve danced as a
solo "The Spanish Shawl dance" before George IV. at the Pavilion,
Brighton. The King was so delighted with her dancing that he went up to
her and said, "You are a very pretty little girl, and you dance
charmingly. Now is there anything I can do for you?" The child
answered, "Yes, there is. Your Majesty can bring me some ham sandwiches
and a glass of port-wine negus, for I am very hungry," and to do George
IV. justice, he promptly brought them. My mother was painted by a
French artist doing her "shawl dance," and if it is a faithful
likeness, she must have been an extraordinarily pretty child. On
another occasion at a children's party at Carlton House, my uncle,
General Lord Alexander Russell, a very outspoken little boy, had been
warned by his mother, the Duchess of Bedford, that though the King wore
a palpable wig, he was to take no notice whatever of it. To my mother's
dismay, she heard her little brother go up to the King and say, "I know
that your Majesty wears a wig, but I've been told not to say anything
about it, so I promised not to tell any one."

Carlton House stood, from all I can learn, at the top of the Duke of
York's steps. Several engravings of its beautiful gardens are still to
be found. These gardens extended from the present Carlton House Terrace
to Pall Mall. Not only the Terrace, but the Carlton, Reform,
Travellers', Athenaeum, and United Service Clubs now stand on their
site. They were separated from Pall Mall by an open colonnade, and the
Corinthian pillars from the front of Carlton House were re-erected in
1834 as the portico of the National Gallery in Trafalgar Square.

As a child I had a wild adoration for Queen Alexandra (then, of course,
Princess of Wales), whom I thought the most beautiful person I had ever
seen in my life, and I dare say that I was not far wrong. When I was
taken to Marlborough House, I remembered and treasured up every single
word she said to me. I was not present at the child's tea-party at
Marlborough House given by the little Princess, including his present
Majesty, when SOME ONE (my loyalty absolutely refuses to let me say
who) suggested that as the woven flowers on the carpet looked rather
faded, it might be as