He shrugged his shoulders; “The Duke takes the risk,” he said. “The king is not married every day.”
The last Friday in May the Princess Ena, her mother and her two brothers entered Spain. We heard then for the first time that she wished to be known in future as Queen Victoria.
“That shows courage,” was Patsy’s comment. “A great name is a good thing to try and live up to, to be sure!”
Don Alfonso met the Princess at the frontier and they all travelled together to El Pardo. All Madrid, at least all fashionable Madrid, rode, drove, motored or ballooned out to meet them. Patsy of course managed to be there with Don Jaime. They described the arrival of the bride as a brilliant scene. All the great people were there in their best clothes; there was an overwhelming amount of gold lace; they all looked and behaved just as they should. “It was more than ever like Lohengrin,” was Patsy’s summing up.
I begged for particulars and learned that the Princess looked beautiful as she drove to the chateau in a carriage drawn by four mules; Don Alfonzo on horseback at her right, the Prince of the Asturias at her left.
“What did she wear?”
“Such golden hair, such a color, such blue, blue eyes!” That was all the satisfaction I got out of Patsy. Don Jaime was incoherent with enthusiasm.
“Muy guapa, divinamente guapa!” he kept repeating. “And what a health, grace heaven! Not only for a Princess but if only a simple gel!”
By this time Madrid was upside down with excitement. The hurry-flurry of the final preparations was contagious. Most people really were busy, the others thought they were. Don Jaime got up at twelve o’clock, instead of two, and Patsy insisted, sometimes forgot to go to bed at all. The wedding guests were pouring into the city by every train.
“I am becoming hardened to royalty,” Patsy announced one evening. “I have seen three royal princes and four Ambassadors Extraordinary arrive to-day. The Prince and Princess of Wales and the Crown Prince of Sweden drove straight to the palace.”