An amusing story was told of His Majesty, with respect to this gallery. King Louis was partial to the society of foreigners, and invariably included the English in all invitations to his receptions. A lady was presented to him one evening, and being very much struck with her personal appearance, he requested her to be so good as to give the Court portrait painter a sitting a few days hence, as he was desirous of having her portrait in his collection. The lady smiled and hesitated, but we all know what comes of hesitation. Half flattered, half alarmed, not quite convinced of the prudence of the acquiescence, she demurred for a few moments, when vanity prevailed, and our countrywoman gave her consent. The next day the king—walking as was his wont unattended through the streets of his capital—encountered the lady, who was bent on a sight-seeing expedition. He paused, took off his hat, and made some casual remark, which gave him time to examine the beauty of the preceding evening. After an earnest scrutiny of her countenance, His Majesty stammered out a species of apology to the effect that he would not trouble her to give a sitting to his painter in ordinary. Alas! for the disillusion which daylight had brought about with regard to the candle-light beauty! There were no end of stories extant about Louis of Bavaria. I was assured that on the morning of his silver wedding, after presenting his wife with the usual offerings of flowers, jewels, and what not, after joining in the religious ceremony, which is very touching and impressive in the German Church, the devoted husband gave the wife so black an eye that it was a question if she could possibly appear at the evening reception. During the summer most of the society are absent from the capital, and reside at their country estates, so that there were not many houses which “received,” as the phrase was, during the hot season, but the one which we constantly frequented made up to us for the absence of any other. It was that of the Sardinian Minister, whose acquaintance we had already made at Genoa. The Marchese Fabio Pallavicini and his wife Marinetta, with their two sons, formed in themselves a most attractive foundation for the agreeable reunions which were at this time swelled by the officers of the neighbouring camp at Augsburg, and a frequent contingent of travellers passing through on their way to the South. Andri and Cesari, the two sons, had been my frequent partners and members of our Genoese cavalcade, and it was a source of great pleasure to meet them again, and to make an expedition, as we did one day, in their company to see the review which the king was to hold at Augsberg.