e only royal duke who was likely to have children in the
regular line. The only daughter of George IV. had died in childhood.
The Duke of Cumberland was for various reasons ineligible; the Duke of
Clarence, later King William IV., was almost too old; and therefore, to
insure the succession, the Duke of Kent was begged to marry a young and
attractive woman, a princess of the house of Saxe-Coburg, who was ready
for the honor. It was greatly to the Duke's credit that he showed deep
and sincere feeling in this matter. As he said himself in effect:

"This French lady has stood by me in hard times and in good times,
too--why should I cast her off? She has been more than a wife to me.
And what do I care for your plans in Parliament? Send over for one of
the Stuarts--they are better men than the last lot of our fellows that
you have had!"

In the end, however, he was wearied out and was persuaded to marry, but
he insisted that a generous sum should be settled on the lady who had
been so long his true companion, and to whom, no doubt, he gave many a
wistful thought in his new but unfamiliar quarters in Kensington
Palace, which was assigned as his residence.

Again, the second Duke of Cambridge, who died only a few years ago,
greatly desired to marry a lady who was not of royal rank, though of
fine breeding and of good birth. He besought his young cousin, as head
of the family, to grant him this privilege of marriage; but Queen
Victoria stubbornly refused. The duke was married according to the
rites of the church, but he could not make his wife a duchess. The
queen never quite forgave him for his partial defiance of her wishes,
though the duke's wife--she was usually spoken of as Mrs.
FitzGeorge--was received almost everywhere, and two of her sons hold
high rank in the British army and navy, respectively.

The one real love story in the life of George IV. is that which tells
of his marriage with a lady who might well have been the wife of any
king. This was Maria Anne Smythe, better known as Mrs. Fitzherbert, who
was six years older than the young prince when she first met him in
company with a body of gentlemen and ladies in 1784.

Maria Fitzherbert's face was one which always displayed its best
advantages. Her eyes were peculiarly languishing, and, as she had
already been twice a widow, and was six years his senior, she had the
advantage over a less experienced lover. Likewise, she was a Catholic,
and so by another act of