I was sure I was going to like meeting important people.
I even softened a little toward Sir John. Mama liked dogs and he gave her the sweetest little King Charles spaniel I ever saw. I loved him on the spot and was sure he felt the same about me. He came to me at once and lifted his beautiful eyes to my face.
I cried, “He is lovely! Whose is he?”
Mama said, “He is mine. His name is Dash. Sir John has just given him to me.”
Even that could not alter my feeling for Dash. I even looked forward to going to my mother's rooms so that I could see him. Mama had two birds—a most delightful parakeet and a canary who used to come out of his cage and fly about the room. One could never be sure when he would descend on one's head. But it was little Dash whom I loved.
One day Mama said to me, “I think Dash is really your dog.”
“He is a darling.”
“I think you two liked each other on sight. Sir John says I should give him to you.”
“Did he?” I cried, flushing with pleasure.
Sir John came into the room. I always had the feeling that they discussed together what they were going to say to me. It was rather like a play with one of them waiting in the wings for their cue.
“I know how you love him,” said Sir John, giving me one of his odious smiles.
But of course I loved Dash, and I did want him for my very own.
“I do love him,” I said.
“Well then…he is yours.”
I took him up in my arms. He knew, the little darling, for he started to lick my face.
“No, Dashie,” I said gleefully, and he barked happily.
“Oh, thank you, Mama,” I said.
“I am sure you are very grateful to Sir John for such a gift.”
“Thank you, Sir John,” I said, a little grudgingly, I'm afraid. “May I take Dash now?”
“But of course,” said Mama smiling graciously. “I will have his basket sent along to you.”
So I went, so happy to have Dash. But I did not like Sir John any more for all that.
I was very happy. Dash made such a difference. I bathed him; I tied a ribbon round his neck and told him over and over again that he was mine now.
Dash was not the only great pleasure I had that year. My music master thought that as I had shown such an interest in singing, and was something of a performer myself, I might be taken to the opera.
Oh, the joy of hearing beautiful music exquisitely sung! I was in transports of delight. I wrote about it in the journal Mama had given me more naturally than I had written of anything before. Here was something that gave me profound pleasure. Mama was quite pleased by my enthusiasm for once. She said that if I behaved with decorum she saw no reason why there should not be frequent visits to the opera.
I was amazed to hear from Uncle Leopold that he intended to be married. He wrote me long letters about it. It was so many years since Charlotte had died and he had mostly spent them mourning for her. Now he had decided that he would be lonely no longer.
Of course I wanted to hear all about her for I did not believe anyone could be worthy of Uncle Leopold.
He wrote back:
My dearest Love,
You have told me you wish to have a description of your new Aunt. She is extremely gentle and amiable and her actions are always guided by principles. She is at all times ready and disposed to sacrifice her comfort and inclinations to see others happy. She values goodness, merit, and virtue much more than beauty, riches, and amusement …
Now to her appearance. She is about Feodore's height; her hair is very fair, light blue eyes, and a very gentle expression…
You will see by these descriptions that though my good little wife is not the tallest of queens, she is a great prize that I highly value and cherish.
I was so delighted for Uncle Leopold. For in addition to all her beauty and virtue, Louise of Orlèans was very highly born, being the daughter of Louis Philippe, King of France. It seemed that Leopold's marriage must be perfect.
I hoped it would not prevent his writing to me as frequently as he had in the past, and when I expressed this fear to him he assured me that it would not. He stressed that my welfare was as dear to his heart as it had ever been, and if I were faced with any problems I must write to him and he would give all his thoughts to solving them. I was his dearest love, his darling child. Nothing could change that.
It was a great comfort to think of Uncle Leopold—though across the sea—always ready to listen to me as he had done when I was close at hand.
My fourteenth birthday was approaching. I really was growing up, but I was still four years from the magical eighteen.
I was so happy when Aunt Adelaide said she would give a ball for me. It was to be a juvenile ball for young people all around my age.
Mama could hardly insist that I decline the invitation to my own ball, and if she had attempted to I should have raised a storm. Fortunately I did not have to.
I awoke early on the morning and felt irritated because I could see Mama's bed and the hump in it, which showed me she was still there. Really, it was ridiculous. A girl of fourteen to have to sleep in her mother's bedroom! Uncle Cumberland could not possibly harm me now. What did she imagine he would do? Send in his servants to smother me like the Princes in the Tower?
It was a lovely morning. I could see Dash at the foot of my bed. Spring is so beautiful and I could hear the birds singing in the gardens, and I knew the trees would be sprouting with green buds and the colors of the spring flowers would be so fresh and lovely. May was a good month in which to be born.
And today was the day of the juvenile ball.
The present-giving was a very happy part of a day like this. Mama was very good with presents. She did give the most delightful ones. There was a bag she had worked herself, a bracelet of topaz and turquoise, handkerchiefs and books; and from Lehzen there was an exquisite china basket and a dainty figure in china too. They were lovely. The only jarring note was the presence of the Conroys who behaved as though they were members of the family. All the five Conroy children were there— Victoire, Jane, and the three boys. They gave me a watch chain between them. From the odious Sir John there was something that I could not help loving in spite of its donor. It was a beautiful painting of Dash—so lifelike that it seemed as though he was going to dart out of the frame into my arms.
I could not help exclaiming with delight. Mama looked very pleased and the moment was spoilt because I detected one of those glances passing between her and Sir John—those intimate secret looks which I hated.
Sir John went with us to St. James's although he had not been invited. He certainly did behave like a member of the family.
I was determined to show Uncle William how sorry I was for the uneasy atmosphere between our two households, and make him understand that it was not of my making. So I was delighted when the Queen took me into his closet to greet him. Aunt Adelaide must have guessed my thoughts. She was such a dear understanding lady, and so eager that everyone should be happy and forget this bickering.
I was wearing the earrings that the King had given me and when I approached him I put my arms around his neck and kissed him.