Soon after, London became an asylum to a fugitive ‘Queen.’ In 1791, the French revolution drove the widow of Charles Edward to leave Paris and seek a refuge in London. The Countess of Albany must have felt some surprise at finding herself well received in St. James’s Palace by the king and queen. She was there by force ‘of that tupsy-turvy-hood which characterises the present age,’ as some wit remarked, at a supper at Lady Mount-Edgcumbe’s. She was presented by the young Countess of Aylesbury (of that Jacobite family) as Princess of Stolberg. Walpole’s record is:――‘She was well-dressed and not at all embarrassed. The King talked to her a good deal, but about her passage, the sea, and general topics. The Queen in the same way, but less. Then she stood between the Dukes of Gloucester and Clarence, and had a good deal of conversation with the former, who perhaps may have met her in Italy. Not a word between her and the Princesses, nor did I hear of the Prince; but he was there, and probably spoke to her. The Queen looked at her earnestly. To add to the singularity of the day, it is the Queen’s birthday. Another odd accident, at the Opera, at the Pantheon, Mme. d’Albany was carried into the King’s box, and sat there. It is not of a piece with her going to Court, that she seals with the royal arms.’ Walpole thought that ‘curiosity’ partly brought her to London; and that it was not very well bred to her late husband’s family, ‘nor very sensible, but a new way of passing eldest.’ He had not then seen her, and when he did, at the end of May, his report was: ‘She has not a ray of royalty about her. She has good eyes and teeth, but, I think, can have had no more beauty than remains, except youth. She is civil and easy, but German and ordinary. Lady Aylesbury made a small assembly for her on Monday, and my curiosity is satisfied.’ [Sidenote: _IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS._]