"The Queen cannot resist sending the lines which Mlle. Norele wrote on her sweet Beatrice at her Confirmation. She did so look like a lily, so very young, so gentle and good. The Queen can only pray God that this flower of the flock, which she really is (for the Queen may truly say she has never given the Queen one moment's cause of displeasure), may never leave her, but be the prop, comfort, and companion of her widowed mother to old age! She is the Queen's Benjamin." The prayer, we know, was granted. Mlle. Norele's graceful lines form a worthy pendant to the charming picture presented in this letter. I give them with my own translation, as it pleased the Queen at the time:-- "Seule, au pied de l'autel, | "Alone, at the Altar's foot, Nous l'avons contemplee, | Thus was she seen, Au bonheur immortel, | Humbly adoring, mute, Comme un ange, appelee. | With looks serene. | De son front la candeur | Awe touch'd us, and we felt Imprimait le respect, | How pure that sight, Et toute sa blancheur | Fair lily! as she knelt, Du lis avait l'aspect. | Robed all in white. | Son ame calme et pure | Within that holy spot, Semblait en ce saint lieu | Her soul did seem Oublier la nature, | To soar, all earth forgot, Et monter vers son Dieu. | To the Supreme. | Seigneur, benis sa foi, | Bless, Lord, the vow she pays, Garde-lui ton amour, | Make her Thy care, Que sa vie sous ta loi | So blest be all her days, Ressemble a ce beau jour!" | Like this, and fair!" In the spring of 1874 the Queen suffered a great loss in the death of her devoted and most trusted friend, M. Silvain van de Weyer. On the 24th of April she writes:-- "The Queen has felt much regret at poor Livingstone's fate, and we are now very anxious, alas! again about dear M. Van de Weyer.[20] She herself is very much overdone and overworked, and her nerves overstrained. Never did so many things come together as this winter and spring. On the 18th of May she hopes, _D.V._, to get off to the North for a month, and then really to get rest."