The history as to how the first portrait of Her Majesty after her coronation was obtained is also full of interest. The Queen is represented in all her youthful beauty in the Royal box at Drury Lane Theatre, and it is the work of E. T. Parris, a fashionable portrait painter of those days. Parris was totally ignorant of the fact that when he agreed with Mr. Henry Graves, the well-known publisher, to paint "the portrait of a lady for fifty guineas," he would have to localise himself amongst the musical instruments of the orchestra of the National Theatre, and handle his pencil in the immediate neighbourhood of the big drum. Neither was he made aware as to the identity of his subject until the eventful night arrived. Bunn was the manager of Drury Lane at the time, and he flatly refused to accommodate Mr. Graves with two seats in the orchestra. But the solution of the difficulty was easy. Bunn was indebted to Grieve, the scenic artist, for a thousand pounds. Grieve was persuaded to threaten to issue a writ for the money unless the "order for two" was forthcoming. Bunn succumbed, and the publisher triumphed; and whilst the young Queen watched the performance, she was innocently sitting for her picture to Parris and Mr. Graves, who were cornered in the orchestra. Parris afterwards shut himself up in his studio, and never left it until he had finished his work. The price agreed upon was doubled, and the Queen signified her approval of the tact employed by purchasing a considerable number of the engravings. The reproduction of the picture in these pages becomes the more interesting from the fact that it is done by permission of the still living occupant of one of the two orchestra seats--Mr. Henry Graves. [Illustration: IN THE ORCHESTRA: SKETCHING THE QUEEN.] Much might be said regarding missing and mutilated pictures. The story as to how Gainsborough's "Duchess of Devonshire" was cut from the frame a few days after 10,100 guineas had been paid for it is well known, but we may add a scrap of information hitherto unpublished, which will, we think, add somewhat to the value of the work as a picture with a history. The ingenious thief knew very well that in order to get his prize in safety through the streets it would be necessary to roll it up. This, of course, could not be done without cracking the paint. Accordingly, he had provided himself with paste and paper to lay over the picture. But when he came to lay the paper on the canvas, he found that he had forgotten--a brush! The people who flocked to see the beautiful "Duchess" were kept at a respectful distance by the customary barrier of silken rope. The clever purloiner cut off a few inches of the thick cord, and, fraying out one of the ends, improvised a really excellent substitute wherewith to lay on the paste. The brush of rope was found next morning on the floor, where he had left it, and told a story of such ingenuity as certainly demands a word of recognition.