The Queen detested the curled fringes which hid the forehead and were then fashionable. This rather unbecoming mode is within the recollection of many. I admit I adopted it. Fashion is fashion. This style of coiffure greatly annoyed the Queen, who said to me one day: "You must dress your hair differently, and in a manner more suitable to a princess." She was right. Unfortunately the Prince of Coburg, who equally disliked this curled coiffure, was present when our aunt made this remark. If she had given him the Koh-i-noor he could not have been better pleased. I was therefore treated to a sound scolding from my husband, which resulted in making me decide not to take any notice of the Queen's censure. My hair still remained in curls on my forehead. At Windsor, as in the Isle of Wight, the Queen drove out every evening about 6 o'clock--no matter what the weather might be. We were usually honoured by accompanying her. Occasionally we were obliged to wait quite a long time for the Queen to make her appearance. At last, preceding the Queen, a plaid on his arm, a flask of whisky slung over his shoulder, came John Brown, the faithful Scotsman whose doings occupied such a prominent position in the _Court Circular_, and who, like many others of his kind, represents an unpublished feuilleton in the history of Courts. He led the way, ensconced himself in the brake drawn by two grey horses, and the drive--which lasted about two hours--began. Evening fell. John Brown moved about in his seat. He frequently turned his head, hopeful to receive the Queen's orders to return. Was this anxiety on account of his fear of rheumatism, or of some chill, which, notwithstanding the comforting properties of whisky, would have affected his health and prevented him fulfilling his duties to the Queen? I really cannot say. All I know is that John Brown detested twilight drives on a damp evening. They always affected his temper, and he did not attempt to conceal his feelings--but, for that matter, he never attempted to do anything contrary to his inclination. Even the Queen's children experienced John Brown's autocracy. It happened that the Prince of Wales, afterwards the great King Edward VII, once wanted to see his mother on urgent and unexpected business. But John Brown opened the door of the Queen's room and said decisively: "You cannot see the Queen, Sir." If in the intimacy of her daily life Queen Victoria allowed herself some moments of relaxation, she was, nevertheless, a great Sovereign and an imposing figure. Her Jubilee, celebrated with a splendour which my contemporaries will easily remember, showed her real status in the world. The procession through London in the midst of a delirious and cheering populace, the cavalcade of kings, princes, rajahs, and other representatives of the Dominions, resplendent in their magnificent uniforms and blazing with precious stones, was a spectacle worthy of the "Arabian Nights."