really
breathe; but Windsor too had its terrors: though during the day there
he could paint and walk and play on the piano, after dinner black tedium
descended like a pall. He would have liked to summon distinguished
scientific and literary men to his presence, and after ascertaining
their views upon various points of art and learning, to set forth his
own; but unfortunately Victoria "had no fancy to encourage such people;"
knowing that she was unequal to taking a part in their conversation,
she insisted that the evening routine should remain unaltered; the
regulation interchange of platitudes with official persons was followed
as usual by the round table and the books of engravings, while the
Prince, with one of his attendants, played game after game of double
chess.

It was only natural that in so peculiar a situation, in which the
elements of power, passion, and pride were so strangely apportioned,
there should have been occasionally something more than mere
irritation--a struggle of angry wills. Victoria, no more than Albert,
was in the habit of playing second fiddle. Her arbitrary temper flashed
out. Her vitality, her obstinacy, her overweening sense of her own
position, might well have beaten down before them his superiorities and
his rights. But she fought at a disadvantage; she was, in very truth, no
longer her own mistress; a profound preoccupation dominated her, seizing
upon her inmost purposes for its own extraordinary ends. She was madly
in love. The details of those curious battles are unknown to us; but
Prince Ernest, who remained in England with his brother for some
months, noted them with a friendly and startled eye. One story, indeed,
survives, ill-authenticated and perhaps mythical, yet summing up, as
such stories often do, the central facts of the case. When, in wrath,
the Prince one day had locked himself into his room, Victoria, no less
furious, knocked on the door to be admitted. "Who is there?" he asked.
"The Queen of England" was the answer. He did not move, and again there
was a hail of knocks. The question and the answer were repeated many
times; but at last there was a pause, and then a gentler knocking. "Who
is there?" came once more the relentless question. But this time the
reply was different. "Your wife, Albert." And the door was immediately
opened.

Very gradually the Prince's position changed. He began to find the study
of politics less uninteresting than he had supposed; he read Bla