If for a while the Queen thus drew back from actually deciding to marry the cousin whom, nevertheless, she owned to be 'fascinating,' that cousin on his side was not one of those of whom it may be said:
He either fears his fate too much,
Or his deserts are small,
That dares not put it to the touch,
To gain or lose it all.
'I am ready,' he said, 'to submit to delay, if I have only some certain assurance to go upon. But if, after waiting perhaps for three years, I should find that the Queen no longer desired the marriage, it would place me in a ridiculous position, and would, to a certain extent, ruin all my prospects for the future.'
Love proved stronger than girlish pride and independence—the woman was greater than the queen. The young pair met again on the 10th October 1839, and on the 14th of the same month the Queen communicated the welcome news of her approaching marriage to her prime-minister. Her best friends were all delighted with the news.
'You will be very nervous on declaring your engagement to the Council,' said the Duchess of Gloucester.
'Yes,' replied the Queen, 'but I did something far more trying to my nerves a short time since.'
'What was that?' the duchess asked.
'I proposed to Albert,' was the reply.
Etiquette of course forbade the gentleman in this case to speak first; and we can well believe that the Queen was more nervous over this matter than over many a state occasion. How the thing took place we may gather in part from a letter of Prince Albert to his grandmother: 'The Queen sent for me to her room, and disclosed to me, in a genuine outburst of love and affection, that I had gained her whole heart.' After the glad announcement was made, warm congratulations were showered on the young people. Lord Melbourne expressed great satisfaction on behalf of himself and his country. 'You will be much more comfortable,' he said, 'for a woman cannot stand alone for any time in whatever position she may be.' To King Leopold, who had much to do with the matter, the news was particularly welcome. In his joyous response to the Queen occur these words: 'I had, when I learned your decision, almost the feeling of old Simeon, "Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace." Your choice has been, for these last years, my conviction of what might and would be the best for your happiness…. In your position, which may, and will perhaps, become in future even more difficult in a political point of view, you could not exist without having a happy and agreeable intérieur. And I am much deceived (which I think I am not) or you will find in Albert just the very qualities and disposition which are indispensable for your happiness, and will suit your own character, temper, and mode of life.'
[Illustration: The Houses of Parliament. (From a photograph by Frith.)]