"Oh, I will be good! I understand now why you urged me so much to learn even Latin. You told me it was the foundation of English grammar, and all the elegant expressions, and I learned it as you wished it, but I understand all better now."
Then pressing the Baroness's hand again and looking solemnly into her eyes, she repeated, "I will be good!" and the Baroness felt a moisture rise in her eyes at the thought of what life might bring to challenge that vow.
The Princess was grave for a time after that day, then she grew accustomed to the new thought of her coming queendom, and was once more her gay, happy self, and there were three functions soon afterwards at which she appeared in all the joy of conscious power and happy girlhood.
On her thirteenth birthday the King and Queen gave a great ball in her honour, when she out-danced all the other girls, not because of her superior rank, but because of her grace and charm of manner. After the ball came a drawing-room when again the Princess had a glorious time, and another glimpse of her is at the Ascot races, when an American poet was thrilled to see her, with the Queen, leaning over the railing of the King's stand, both listening to a ballad-singer with as keen interest as though they had been simple country folk instead of royalty, and he remarked that the Princess was far better looking than most of her photographs pictured her.
Nearer and nearer to the throne came the young girl, and yet even when she was nearly seventeen she was still in the habit of living as quietly as she had in childhood, and it is told how at a formal reception given in her honour, followed by a dinner and a grand ball which she opened with Lord Exeter, after that first dance she left the ballroom to retire, as the Duchess thought she had had quite enough excitement for one day. That statement will seem incredible to a girl of to-day, but it is an historical fact.
On the twenty-fourth of May, 1837, Princess Victoria came of age according to the laws of England, and the joyous events of the day began very early in the morning, for when dawn was just breaking in the east, she was roused by the sound of music under her window. Jumping up, now quite awake, she peered through the blinds and saw a band playing merrily, and realised why they were there. Rushing into her mother's room she shook her out of a sound sleep, and pulled her into her room, where together they sat behind the closed blinds and applauded the serenaders. It did not take Victoria long to dress that morning. She was full of excitement, for by breakfast time messages of congratulations and presents had begun to pour in, and with shining eyes she exclaimed, "To think of all England celebrating a holiday just for me!" when she heard that Parliament was not in session, nor boys in school, all in her honour. And at night there was a great illumination of the city and a grand State Ball at the Palace of St. James—quite enough tribute to turn the head of any girl of eighteen,—but Victoria, even then in the midst of her enjoyment, seemed to feel the responsibility more than the flattery, and that night gave an appealing look of shy objection when on entering the ballroom she was obliged by court etiquette to enter before her mother, thus emphasising for the first time her superior rank.
Not long after this, one night through the vast audience rooms of gloomy Windsor Castle went the solemn word, "The King is dead!" and in the same breath, even the most loyal ministers of Church and State, who had known only too well the weaknesses of the sovereign who would reign no more, whispered softly, "Long live the Queen!"
Then there was a flurry of preparation. The Archbishop of Canterbury and the Lord Chamberlain made ready to leave the place of mourning as fast as horses could carry them.
Arriving at Kensington Palace in the early dawn, they found the palace inmates sleeping quietly. It took an endless time, so it seemed, to arouse even the porter at the gate, but at last he appeared, rubbing sleepy eyes and grumbling at having been disturbed. At the entrance to the court-yard came another delay, but finally they were admitted to the Palace, were shown to a room, and waited until their patience was exhausted, and they rang a bell so insistently that finally another drowsy servant answered. They then requested that the Princess Victoria should be roused at once and told that they desired an immediate audience on most important business. The sleepy servant disappeared and still there were more delays, more waiting. Then the Princess' special maid appeared, saying with irritating calm that her royal mistress was in such a sweet sleep that she could not venture to disturb her. The Archbishop's command was not one to be set aside, "We are come on business of State to the Queen," he said, "Even her sleep must give way." To the Queen! Ah, then it had come! With flying feet the maid rushed into the room where the Princess had gone to sleep so peacefully a few hours since, and roused her with the cry, "They have come to make you Queen. Oh, be quick!"
Half asleep—entirely dazed for the moment, then clear-eyed, Victoria sprang up, with only one thought, "I must not delay them any longer," and rushed into the presence of the waiting dignitaries with only a bed-gown thrown over her night-dress, her feet in slippers and her long brown hair flying over her shoulders!