There was yet no inconsiderable number of English guests who gathered round the table of the Princess, and some of the former ladies of her suite here rejoined her. Among the guests is noticed a ‘Lord B----,’ who had been a great favourite with the Prince of Wales, and was equally esteemed by the Princess. He had been a witness of the marriage of Mrs. Fitzherbert with the Prince, and was now the most welcome visitor of the Princess. The illustrious pair, it has been often observed, had ‘a strange sympathy in their loves and habits.’ Alluding to the style of the Princess’s conversation with her guests, the ‘Diary’ affords us another illustration. ‘Sometimes Monsieur ---- opened his eyes wide at the Princess’s declarations, and her Royal Highness enjoys making people stare, so she gave free vent to her tongue, and said a number of odd things, some of which she thinks, and some she does not; but it amuses her to astonish an innocent-minded being, and really such did this old man appear to be. He won her heart, upon the whole, however, by paying a compliment to her fine arm and asking for her glove. Obtaining it, he placed it next his heart; and, declaring it should be found in his tomb, he swore he was of the old school in all things.’ The little vanity of being proud of a fine arm was one as strong in Queen Charlotte as in her daughter-in-law. The former had as fine an arm as, and perhaps not a better temper than, the latter, but she could better control that temper, and had the additional advantage of being possessed of a more refined taste. This was not, perhaps, always shown when she sat and listened to rather loose talk from the Regent, with no more of reproof than her gently-uttered ‘George, George!’ by way of remonstrance. She, however, never erred so grossly as the Princess of Wales, who not only would listen unabashed to conversation coarse in character, but was not at all nice herself in either story or epithet. In Italy such things were then accounted of but as being small foibles; and when the Pope visited her at Genoa he probably thought none the worse of her, nor bated no jot in his courtesy towards her, because of her reputation in this respect. She certainly loved to mystify people, and took an almost insane pleasure in exciting converse against herself. Her adoption of Victorine, a daughter of Bergami, was a proof that she had acquired no profitable experience from the consequences which followed her adoption of young Austin.