The drawing-room at which good Mrs. Blomfield appeared in ‘immortal velvet’ was remarkable for another incident, related in ‘Frazer’s Magazine,’ by John Wilkes, ex-M.P. for Sudbury, in his ‘Regina’s Regina’:--‘The drawing-room of her Majesty Queen Adelaide, held in February, 1831, was the most magnificent which had been seen since that which had taken place on the presentation of the Princess Charlotte of Wales, upon the occasion of her marriage. No drawing-room excited such an interest when compared with that as the one held by Queen Adelaide, at which the Princess Victoria was presented on attaining her twelfth year. It was on this occasion that the Duchess of Kent and her illustrious daughter arrived in state, attended by the Duchess of Northumberland, Lady Charlotte St. Maur, Lady Catherine Parkinson, the Hon. Mrs. Cust, Lady Conroy, La Baronne Letzen, Sir John Conroy, and General Wetheral. This was the first public appearance of the Princess Victoria at court. Her dress was made entirely of articles manufactured in the United Kingdom. Victoria wore a frock of English blonde, simple, modest, and becoming. She was the object of interest and admiration on the part of all assembled, as she stood on the left of her Majesty on the throne. The scene was one of the most splendid ever remembered, and the future Queen of England contemplated all that passed with much dignity, but with evident interest.’ Nearly three-quarters of a century had elapsed since a Queen-consort had been crowned in Great Britain. On the present occasion, such small pomp as there was was confined to the religious part of the ceremony. The procession to and from Westminster Hall, the banquet there, and the dramatic episode of the entry of the Champion were all dispensed with. There was an idea prevalent that the cost would be too great, and that the popular voice would be given to grumble--others thought that money spent in the country, and made to circulate rapidly through many hands, would be a public benefit rather than a public injury. The ministry, however, would only sanction the maimed rites which were actually observed; the privileged people were deprived of many a coveted perquisite which might have dipped deeply into the public purse, and the heir of Marmion and the owner of Scrivelsby kept his horse and his defiance at home in the domain of the Dymokes. The public, cheated of their show, called it a ‘half-crownation.’