rance. Coffee is served to them in the adjoining room, and
then they go into the drawing-room, when she goes round and says
a few words to each, of the most trivial nature, all however very
civil and cordial in manner and expression. When this little
ceremony is over the Duchess of Kent's whist table is arranged,
and then the round table is marshalled, Melbourne invariably
sitting on the left hand of the Queen and remaining there without
moving till the evening is at an end. At about half-past eleven
she goes to bed, or whenever the Duchess has played her usual
number of rubbers, and the band have performed all the pieces on
their list for the night. This is the whole history of her day:
she orders and regulates every detail herself, she knows where
everybody is lodged in the Castle, settles about the riding or
driving, and enters into every particular with minute attention.
But while she personally gives her orders to her various
attendants, and does everything that is civil to all the inmates
of the Castle, she really has nothing to do with anybody but
Melbourne, and with him she passes (if not in _tete-a-tete_ yet
in intimate communication) more hours than any two people, in any
relation of life, perhaps ever do pass together besides.[6] He is
at her side for at least six hours every day--an hour in the
morning, two on horseback, one at dinner, and two in the evening.
This monopoly is certainly not judicious; it is not altogether
consistent with social usage, and it leads to an infraction of
those rules of etiquette which it is better to observe with
regularity at Court. But it is more peculiarly inexpedient with
reference to her own future enjoyment, for if Melbourne should be
compelled to resign, her privation will be the more bitter on
account of the exclusiveness of her intimacy with him.
Accordingly, her terror when any danger menaces the Government,
her nervous apprehension at any appearance of change, affect her
health, and upon one occasion during the last session she
actually fretted herself into an illness at the notion of their
going out. It must be owned that her feelings are not unnatural,
any more than those which Melbourne entertains towards her. His
manner to her is perfect, always respectful, and never presuming
upon the extraordinary distinction he enjoys; hers to him is
simple and natural, indicative of the confidence she reposes in
him, and of her lively taste for his society, but not marked by