"
A few days later there was a sensation in Buckingham Palace, at the
setting up in the Throne-room of a very magnificent new piece of
furniture--a throne of the latest English fashion, but gorgeous enough to
have served for the Queen of Sheba, Zenobia, Cleopatra, or Semiramis. It
was all crimson velvet and silk, with any amount of gold embroideries,
gold lace, gold fringe, ropes, and tassels. The gay young Queen tried it,
and said it would do; that she had never sat on a more comfortable throne
in all her life.
Two stories of the young Queen have touched me especially--one was
related by the Duke of Wellington. A court-martial death sentence was
presented by him to her, to be signed. She shrank from the dreadful task,
and with tears in her eyes, asked: "Have you nothing to say in behalf of
this man?"
"Nothing; he has deserted three times," replied the Iron Duke.
"O, your Grace, think again!"
"Well, your Majesty, he certainly is a bad soldier, but there was
somebody who spoke as to his good character. He may be a good fellow in
civil life."
"O, thank you!" exclaimed the Queen, as she dashed off the word,
"Pardoned," on the awful parchment, and wrote beneath it her beautiful
signature.
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