this child had been the sole object
of her existence, of her thoughts, her hopes, and now--no! she would
not be comforted, she had lost everything, she was to the last degree
unhappy. Sailing, so gallantly and so pertinaciously, through the
buffeting storms of life, the stately vessel, with sails still swelling
and pennons flying, had put into harbour at last; to find there
nothing--a land of bleak desolation.

Within a month of the accession, the realities of the new situation
assumed a visible shape. The whole royal household moved from Kensington
to Buckingham Palace, and, in the new abode, the Duchess of Kent was
given a suite of apartments entirely separate from the Queen's. By
Victoria herself the change was welcomed, though, at the moment of
departure, she could afford to be sentimental. "Though I rejoice to go
into B. P. for many reasons," she wrote in her diary, "it is not
without feelings of regret that I shall bid adieu for ever to this my
birthplace, where I have been born and bred, and to which I am really
attached!" Her memory lingered for a moment over visions of the past:
her sister's wedding, pleasant balls and delicious concerts and there
were other recollections. "I have gone through painful and disagreeable
scenes here, 'tis true," she concluded, "but still I am fond of the poor
old palace."

At the same time she took another decided step. She had determined that
she would see no more of Sir John Conroy. She rewarded his past services
with liberality: he was given a baronetcy and a pension of L3000 a
year; he remained a member of the Duchess's household, but his personal
intercourse with the Queen came to an abrupt conclusion.

II

It was clear that these interior changes--whatever else they might
betoken--marked the triumph of one person--the Baroness Lehzen. The
pastor's daughter observed the ruin of her enemies. Discreet and
victorious, she remained in possession of the field. More closely than
ever did she cleave to the side of her mistress, her pupil, and her
friend; and in the recesses of the palace her mysterious figure was at
once invisible and omnipresent. When the Queen's Ministers came in
at one door, the Baroness went out by another; when they retired, she
immediately returned. Nobody knew--nobody ever will know--the precise
extent and the precise nature of her influence. She herself declared
that she never discussed public affairs with the Queen, that she was
concerned with private