“A favorite at Marlborough House” indicates clearly one taste at least of the exquisite princess who rouses so much enthusiasm in English hearts; and emphasizes a little speech she made at a meeting of the Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. “If,” said she, “I have saved even one cat from misery, I shall feel that I have done some good in the world.” If the cats at Windsor and Marlborough House have anything to complain of, it can only be over-indulgence. The bill for their silk throat-ribbons and silver bells is a large one, even at the most moderate estimate; they have their own special cushions and attendants; they often go out riding with their royal mistresses, and when the latter leave one palace for another, _Messieurs et Mesdames Les Chats_ travel with them, in such state and comfort as befit the possessions of royalty. But now let us turn from England to France, and glance at a few pets there. A pleasant memory remains of Louis XIII.--his intercession, when a child, for the poor cats that were to be burned as witches on St. John’s Day. It availed not only for those particular cats, but for all their race henceforth in France. [Illustration: PRINCESS AUGUSTA, DAUGHTER OF GEORGE III. PRINCESS AMELIA, DAUGHTER OF GEORGE III. (_By permission of Messrs. Macmillan & Co._)] One of his predecessors, Henry III., used to carry a daintily-lined basket suspended from his neck by a silken cord. As he languidly talked with his guests or courtiers, he would at intervals, with hands delicate as a woman’s, sparkling with rings, caress the tiny, long-haired dogs which occupied the basket. [Illustration: A FAVORITE AT MARLBOROUGH HOUSE.] Louis XIV. petted himself more than any living creature; yet he had some sympathy to spare for his numerous dogs; he even had their portraits painted, at a considerable cost; and he also, presumably, had a favorite cat--if the story in Swift’s Memoirs is one to be relied upon. This story is to the effect that during the reign of Queen Anne, a Miss Nelly Bennet, a young lady who took prestige as a great beauty, visited the French court. She traveled in the care of witty Dr. Arbuthnot, who in a letter to the Dean, describes the outbursts of admiration that greeted his fair charge. “She had great honours done her,” he remarks, then adds, “and the hussar himself was ordered to bring her the king’s cat to kiss.” When this important bit of news came to be reported in England, a wit, now unknown, wrote a poem on the event, describing how-- “... When as Nelly came to France (Invited by her cousins), Across the Tuileries each glance Killed Frenchmen by whole dozens. The king, as he at dinner sat, Did beckon to his hussar, And bid him bring his tabby-cat For charming Nell to buss her.”