crowd of distant admirers, who regarded her as the most eminent female writer of her time. The first parcel of ‘Camilla; or, A Picture of Youth,’ reached Bookham on an early day in July, 1796; and Madame d’Arblay at once set off for Windsor to present copies to the King and Queen. Immediately on her arrival, she was admitted to an audience of the Queen, during which the King entered to receive his share of the offering. The excellent monarch was in one of his most interrogative moods, and particularly curious to learn who had corrected the proofs of the volumes before him. His flattered subject confessed that she was her own reader. ‘Why, some authors have told me,’ cried he, ‘that they are the last to do that work for themselves! They know so well by heart what ought to be, that they run on without seeing what is. They have told me, besides, that a mere plodding head is best and surest for that work, and that the livelier the imagination, the less it should be trusted to.’ Madame had carried her husband with her to Windsor. They were detained there three days; and, as Walpole remarks with some emphasis, even M. d’Arblay was allowed to dine. Horace means, of course, that the General, who had the Cross of St. Louis, was invited to a place at Mdlle. Jacobi’s table. Just before dinner, Madame d’Arblay was called aside by her entertainer, and presented, in the name of their Majesties, with a packet containing a hundred guineas, as a ‘compliment’ in acknowledgment of her dedication. On the following day, the Chevalier and his wife repaired to the Terrace. “The evening was so raw and cold that there was very little company, and scarce any expectation of the Royal Family; and when we had been there about half an hour the musicians retreated, and everybody was preparing to follow, when a messenger suddenly came forward, helter-skelter, running after the horns and clarionets, and hallooing to them to return. This brought back the straggling parties, and the King, Duke of York, and six Princesses soon appeared.... The King stopped to speak to the Bishop of Norwich[116] and some others at the entrance, and then walked on towards us, who were at the further end. As he approached, the Princess Royal said, ‘Madame d’Arblay, sir;’ and instantly he came on a step, and then stopped and addressed me, and after a word or two of the weather, he said, ‘Is that M. d’Arblay?’ and most graciously bowed to him, and entered into a little conversation, demanding how long he had been in England, how long in the country, etc. Upon the King’s bowing and leaving us, the Commander-in-Chief most courteously bowed also to M. d’Arblay; and the Princesses all came up to speak to me, and to curtsey to him, and the Princess Elizabeth cried, ‘I’ve got leave! and mamma says she won’t wait to read it first!’”