was wont to bring on hemorrhages of the most alarming character.

What rendered matters very difficult was that he was extremely self-willed; and he insisted on marrying the Duchess, notwithstanding the fact that every one of his family was opposed to the match on the ground of his precarious health. He died very suddenly at Cannes, as I said above, in the midst of a terrible fit of epilepsy and hemorrhage combined, brought on by over-exertion. Indeed, so great was the hemorrhage that it gave rise at the time to a widespread rumor that he had slashed himself to death with sharp scissors during the throes of the fit.

In one way, however, his marriage was a great relief to his family, for the Duke possessed the unfortunate habit while a bachelor of making friends and associates of people who were in every way unworthy of the honor.

Indeed, on more than one occasion was the Prince of Wales forced to interfere in a rather vigorous and stern manner to prevent his youngest and best-loved brother from showing himself in public with men of more than questionable reputation, whose association with the Duke gave rise to many malicious rumors concerning his character. The Duchess is a sister of the Queen Regent of Holland, a widow like herself. Both are now in easy circumstances, and their present affluence presents a striking contrast to the bitter penury of their youth at the impoverished Court of their father, the rigning Prince of the tiny principality of Waldeck-Pyrmont.

Only those who have had an opportunity of coming into frequent contact with Her Majesty the Queen are acquainted with the irritability and imperiousness of her character, which have not been diminished, but rather increased by a half a

century of rulership over a considerable portion of the globe.

Life at the English Court is by no means agreeable, and popular ideas as to the basking in the sunshine of Royalty are quickly dispelled by the frowns which so frequently cloud the countenance of "Her Most Gracious Majesty." The least trifle annoys her, and although under ordinary circumstances a woman of extraordinary common sense, she becomes at times utterly unreasonable, and even harsh.

Some of the most loyal and deserving members of her household have been dismissed and turned away almost at a moment's notice, not for any misconduct, but merely because their appearance had ceased to please, and had become tiresome to her very capricious Majesty.

There is one case, that of Lord Playfair, who, notwithstanding his long and devoted services to the Prince Consort, was removed from his post of gentleman-in-waiting because the Queen had objection to his legs, which, being short and deflected, did not appear to advantage in knee-breeches and silk stockings. Mr. Lyon Playfair, as he was then, has since been consoled by a peerage, and by his marriage to a very charming American girl, Miss Russel, of Boston.

Although the Queen's irritability keeps the members of her household in perpetual apprehension of Royal displeasure and wiggings that are extremely Imperial in their vigor, yet she is constantly doing little acts of considerate and motherly kindness which endear her to both her immediate entourage and to her subjects.

I saw the fact mentioned in a paper the other day that Queen Victoria had not enjoyed a dance since the year 1861, when she lost both her mother and her husband. This is

true as regards the State balls at Buckingham Palace, not one of which has been honored by her presence during the last

thirty years.

It is a great mistake, however, to believe that she has never danced since

then. For at the tenants' and servants' balls, which she gives every year at Balmoral Castle during her stay in the Highlands, she has frequently trod a measure with some one of her favorite attendants, who, it may well be imagined, enjoy the privilege with a keen relish.

On many occasions the late John Brown was her partner, and it was with mingled admiration and awe that both the numerous guests, whose good fortune it was

to be among those

present, staying at the Castle and the members of the house

hold saw the stout little lady, their august sovereign, spinning about in the most lively fashion to the tune of a regular Scotch reel.

Indeed, so often did the Queen thus amuse herself that she aroused the ill-natured comment in the southern portion of her dominions, to the effect that if she was so fond of dancing she would do far better to select members of the old nobility as partners in dignified square dances than to dance jigs with

Scotch menials.

Queen Victoria is by no means the only sovereign lady who is fond of dancing. Both Queen Marguerite of Italy and the Empress of Russia are passionately fond of waltzing, and are, moreover, indefatigable. They enjoy a very notable advantage over the remainder of their sex, for, whereas, under ordinary circumstances, women are forced to wait until invited to dance by men, ladies of royal rank have the privilege of selecting their partners. This they do through their chamberlains and gentlemen-in-waiting, who bear to the partner of their choice the Royal command to dance such and such a waltz with them.

If the cavalier in question happens to be already engaged for the dance with some other lady, he is forced to leave her in the lurch, as everything has to give way to these Royal commands.

The gardener of the Queen is a very important personage whose post is no sinecure, for Her Majesty absolutely refuses to eat any fruit save that which is grown at Frogmore, near Windsor, and there is a perpetual packing and sending off huge hampers of fruit and vegetables wherever the Queen may be.

By the way, the Queen has now to be very careful about