It appears that “Hinton” went to the Bank of England with the £50 note we gave him, and, as is customary, he was asked to sign his name. With a flourish he wrote down “Poulett,” whereupon the cashier said, “Christian name as well, please.” Hinton drew himself up and said, “We earls always sign our names like that,” a remark which, doubtless, duly impressed and abashed the cashier. In June, 1901, as the Exhibition was closing for the day, several pieces of jewellery, valued at between 50 and 60 guineas, were discovered to be missing from the figure of the Old Coquette, facing the model of the sardonic but courtier-like Voltaire, who is seen raising his hat to her. The gems had served to adorn the representation of this curious-looking old dame for a period of more than a century. As soon as the discovery was made the usual notification was given to the police. Strange to say, while the detective-officer was in consultation with us discussing the most likely means of recovering the articles, a bulky envelope, bearing the mark of the Earl’s Court postal district, was handed in containing the missing property, with the following short note enclosed: “Found at Madame Tussaud’s--thrown down.” CHAPTER XXXII Royal visitors--King Alphonso and Princess Ena--The late Emperor Frederick--A penniless trio--Princess Charles--The Prince of Wales and Prince Albert. Madame Tussaud’s was one of the last places visited by the King of Spain and Princess Ena before they left this country for their wedding at Madrid in May, 1906. Somehow there seemed to be at the time an atmosphere of anxiety attending the visit of this vivacious royal couple, and I feel sure this uneasiness was felt by many who observed them pass freely and jocularly among the visitors, who were very numerous that afternoon in the Exhibition rooms. Disquieting rumours had reached this country that an attempt would be made by certain disaffected ruffians to interfere with their marriage. Plots and threats of a sinister character were in the air, and, as we all know, these culminated in a crime of a particularly atrocious nature in the Spanish capital. Yet none seemed to be less affected by these disturbing influences than the young royalties themselves, while I am quite certain neither of them was acting a part. They were simply as happy as a bride and bridegroom ought to be who were counting the days till they should be united. The young King took a positive delight in moving among the visitors, and none was less self-conscious than he. I was amused to find him bubbling over with fun and frolic standing in front of his own portrait. Then he did the thing one almost expected he would do. To the amusement of all beholders he exclaimed, “Let me shake hands with myself,” suiting the action to the words, and laughing heartily with his bride and her friends. It is for traits like this that King Alphonso enjoys popularity wherever he goes.