was so pretty that I quire forgave him all his sins.  It was of green leaves and white fleur-de-lis, with a white ostrich feather drooping on one side.  I wear my hair now plain in front, and the wreath was very flat and classical in its style.  My dress was black velvet with a very rich bertha.  A bouquet on the front of fleur-de-lis, like the coiffure, and a Cashmere shawl, completed my array.  I have had the diamond pin and earrings which you father gave me, reset, and made into a magnificent brooch, and so arranged that I can also wear it as a necklace or bracelet.  On this occasion it was my necklace.

Miss Murray came to go with me, as she wished to be by my side to point out everybody, and her badge as Maid of Honor would take her to any part of the house.  At half-past twelve she and I set out, and after leaving us the carriage returned for your father and Mr. Brodhead.  But first let me tell you something of our equipage.  It is a chariot, not a coach; that is, it has but one seat, but the whole front being glass makes it much more agreeable to such persons as have not large families.  The color is maroon, with a silver moulding, and has the American arms on the panel.  The liveries are blue and red; on Court Days they have blue plush breeches, and white silk stockings, with buckles on their shoes.  Your father leaves all these matters to me, and they have given me no little plague.  When I thought I had arranged everything necessary, the coachman, good old Brooks, solicited an audience a day or two ago, and began, “Mistress, did you tell them to send the pads and the fronts and the hand-pieces?”  “Heavens and earth! what are all these things?” said I.  “Why, ma’am, we always has pads under the saddle on Court Days, trimmed round with the colors of the livery, and we has fronts made of ribbin for the horses’ heads, and we has white hand-pieces for the reins.”  This is a specimen of the little troubles of court life, but it has its compensations.  To go back to Miss Murray and myself, who are driving through the park between files of people, thousands and thousands all awaiting with patient, loyal faces the passage of the Queen and of the State carriages.  The Queen’s was drawn by eight cream-colored horses, and the servants flaming with scarlet and gold.  This part of the park, near the palace, is only accessible to the carriages of the foreign ministers, ministers, and officers of the household.

We arrive at the Parliament House, move through the long corridor and give up our tickets at the door of the chamber.  It is a very long, narrow room.  At the upper end is the throne, on the right is the seat of the ambassadors, on the left, of their ladies.  Just in front of the throne is the wool-sack of the Lord Chancellor, looking like a drawing-room divan, covered with crimson velvet.  Below this are rows of seats for the judges, who are all in their wigs and scarlet robes; the bishops and the peers, all in robes of scarlet and ermine.  Opposite the throne at the lower end is the Bar of the Commons.  On the right of the Queen’s chair is a vacant one, on which is carved the three plumes, the insignia of the Prince of Wales, who will occupy it when he is seven or nine years old; on the left Prince Albert sits.

The seat assigned me was in the front row, and quite open, like a sofa, so that I could talk with any gentleman whom I knew.  Madam Van de Weyer was on one side of me and the Princess Callimachi on the other, and Miss Murray just behind me.  She insisted on introducing to me all her noble relatives.  Her cousin, the young Duke of Athol; the Duke of Buccleuch; her nephew the Marquis of Camden; her brother the Bishop of Rochester.  There were many whom I had seen before, so that the hour passed very agreeably.  Very soon came in the Duke of Cambridge, at which everybody rose, he being a royal duke.  He was dressed in the scarlet kingly robe, trimmed with ermine, and with his white hair and whiskers (he is an old man) was most picturesque and scenic, reminding me of King Lear and other stage kings.  He requested to be introduced to me, upon which I rose, of course.  He soon said, “Be seated,” and we went on with the conversation.  I told him how much I liked Kew Garden, where he has a favorite place.

When I first entered I was greeted very cordially by a personage in a black gown and wig, whom I did not know.  He laughed and said: “I am Mr. Senior, whom you saw only Saturday evening, but you do not know me in my wig.”  It is, indeed, an entire transformation, for it reaches down on the shoulders.  He is a master in chancery.  He stood by me nearly all the time and pointed out many of the judges, and some persons not in Miss Murray’s line.

But the trumpets sound! the Queen approaches!  The trumpet continues, and first enter at a side door close at my elbow the college of heralds richly dressed, slowly, two and two; then the great officers of the household, then the Lord Chancellor bearing the purse, seal, and speech of the Queen, with the macebearers before him.  Then Lord Lansdowne with the crown, the Earl of Zetland, with the cap of maintenance, and the Duke off Wellington, with the sword of State.  Then Prince Albert, leading the Queen, followed by the Duchess of Sutherland, Mistress of the Robes, and the Marchioness of Douro, daughter-in-law of the Duke of Wellington, who is one of the ladies in waiting.  The Queen and Prince sit down, while everybody else remains standing.  The Queen then says in a voice most clear and sweet: “My lords (rolling the r), be seated.”  Upon which the peers sit down, except those who enter with the Queen, who group themselves about the throne in the most picturesque manner.  The Queen had a crown of diamonds, with splendid necklace and stomacher of the same.  The Duchess of Sutherland close by her side with her ducal coronet of diamonds, and a little back, Lady Douro, also, with her coronet.  On the right of the throne stood the Lord Chancellor, with scarlet robe and flowing wig, holding the speech, surrounded by the emblems of his office; a little farther, one step lower down, Lord Lansdowne, holding the crown on a crimson velvet cushion, and on the left the Duke of Wellington, brandishing the sword of State in the air, with the Earl of Zetland by his side.  The Queen’s train of royal purple, or rather deep crimson, was borne by many train-bearers.  The whole scene seemed to me like a dream or a vision.  After a few minutes the Lord Chancellor came forward and presented the speech to the Queen.  She read it sitting and most exquisitely.  Her voice is flute-like and her whole emphasis decided and intelligent.  Very soon after the speech is finished she leaves the House, and we all follow, as soon as we can get our carriages.

Lord Lansdowne told me before she came in that the speech would be longer than usual, “but not so long as your President’s speeches.”  It has been a day of high pleasure and more like a romance than a reality to me, and being in the very midst of it as I was, made it more striking than if I had looked on from a distant gallery.