THE KING’S REAPPEARANCE.
Kew Palace, Sunday, March 1.—What a pleasure was mine this morning! how solemn, but how grateful! The queen gave me the “Prayer of Thanksgiving” upon the king’s recovery. It was this morning read in all the churches throughout the metropolis, and by this day week it will reach every church in the kingdom. It kept me in tears all the morning,—that such a moment should actually arrive! after fears so dreadful, scenes so terrible.
The queen gave me a dozen to distribute among the female servants: but I reserved one of them for dear Mr. Smelt, who took it from me in speechless extacy—his fine and feeling eyes swimming in tears of joy. There is no describing—and I will not attempt it—the fullness, the almost overwhelming fullness of this morning’s thankful feelings!
I had the great gratification to see the honoured object of this joy, for a few minutes, in the queen’s dressing-room. He was all calmness and benevolent graciousness. I fancied my strong emotion had disfigured me; or perhaps the whole of this long confinement and most affecting winter may have somewhat marked my countenance; for the king presently said to me, “Pray, are you quite well to-day?”
“I think not quite, sir,” I answered, “She does not look well,” said he to the queen; “she looks a little yellow, I think.”
How kind, to think of anybody and their looks, at this first moment of reappearance!