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ssss1.Her late Majesty Queen Victoria.

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Our apartments were situated in the older, or Wolseyan, portion of the building, not in the square edifice which Sir Christopher Wren built for Dutch William. The architect’s monogram may still be found over a small door in Fountain Court, to mark where he lodged. Our windows looked out on the Chapel Court on one side, and Tennis Court Lane on the other; and under those windows I often listened of a summer’s night, with mingled pride and rapture, to a quartette of serenaders, who sang there in Mary’s honour. Those beautiful boyish voices which still echo in my ears, and make sweet, sad music in my memory! Frank and Charlie Sheridan, Cavendish Boyle and Alfred Montgomery.^[13] Alas! only one of that little band now remains to whom I can say, “Do you remember?” And alas! once more, those dear old rooms, the scene of so many happy days; they were totally destroyed by fire, through the wanton carelessness of a housemaid, in 1886. The Sheridans were our dearest friends, and as some of their windows faced some of ours, we invented a code of signals for our own convenience. How many assignations were made, how many fishing parties, how many boating expeditions, how many rehearsals! Yes, I “have had playmates, I have had companions; all—all are gone, the old familiar faces,” the forms have vanished and their voices hushed before their time. One of that dear company passed away but a few short years ago; she wrote to me just before her death, to say, “She felt as if the daisy quiet were slowly stealing over her.” I am speaking now of Georgina, Duchess of Somerset, in whose limpid blue eyes and matchless smile I could trace, lingering to the last, the charms of the “Queen of Love and Beauty,”^[14] and wonder that her undoubted claim to that proud title were ever questioned. Alas! of all the members of that generation of two loving families, I alone remain!