“I am very anxious for you to convey my respects to Her Majesty, and tell her that I have inquired after her august son, the King, twice every day; and please do not forget to add how sincerely I congratulate her on his restoration to health.” It was, indeed, quite due to the rare intelligence of the Queen-Regent and her knowledge of the laws of hygiene that little Alfonso XIII. was saved for Spain. It was by such proofs of her intelligence that Maria Cristina gradually asserted her just sway at Court. It had been a great struggle in the first years of her widowhood to gain this sway, for she was liable to be set aside as a stranger in a foreign country, of which the language was unknown to her, and she could not help knowing that derogatory remarks were made about her even by her royal relations. Her very name was against her, as Spaniards associated it with that of the mother of Isabel II., who was said to have exploited the land to her own ends. The Duke of Seville, Prince Henry of Bourbon, was heard to say, in the presence of the Royal Guard, in 1886: “Of course, the Regency cannot be entrusted to a foreign Princess.” But he found afterwards he was wrong in the estimate he had formed of the Austrian lady. Whilst Alfonso XII. had been alive, Maria Cristina did not feel she was merely a stranger in a foreign land, and she was often compared to a ray of sunshine, so bright and joyous was she at Court. For, always active, merry, and happy, her six years of married life had passed without heed of the cares of the State, so it was a surprise to the Spaniards to find that she was possessed of such diplomatic power. Moreover, the Queen-Regent’s intelligent care of her child during his illness was a practical lesson to those around her; for, fond mothers as Spanish women are, the laws of hygiene play little part in their education. The little Prince, Alfonso XIII., was indeed a charming child, and soon gave proofs of his affection for those about him, whilst being the despair of his governess, Señora Tacon, by the way he set the strict laws of Spanish Court etiquette at defiance. “Ah, Juanito! bon petit Juan!” he would call out to the distinguished General Juan de Cordova, Marquis of Sotomayor; and the Duke of Bivona he dubbed “Xiquena.” Señora Tacon strove to prevent this familiar style of address by saying: “But, Sire, Your Majesty must recollect that the gentleman to whom you are speaking is the Duke of Bivona.” “The Duke of Bivona!” returned the little King mockingly. “That’s all very well, but I know it is Xiquena. Are you not Xiquena?” he continued, addressing the grandee. Then, seeing a smile on the solemn countenance of the Duke, he continued: “You see, this lady is always giving different names to people. She says that my Juanito is General Juan de Cordova, Marquis of Sotomayor. Don’t be silly!” he added, turning to Señora Tacon. “That is my Xiquena, and the other is my Juanito--so there!”