la fleur des pois." There was continual friction, but every scene
ended in the same way. Standing before him like a rebellious boy in
petticoats, her body pushed forward, her hands behind her back, with
flaming cheeks and sparkling eyes, she would declare at last that she
was ready to do whatever he wanted. "If you wish it, I will do it," she
would say. "I want nothing for myself," he invariably answered; "When
I press something on you, it is from a conviction that it is for your
interest and for your good."

Among the members of the household at Claremont, near Esher, where the
royal pair were established, was a young German physician, Christian
Friedrich Stockmar. He was the son of a minor magistrate in Coburg, and,
after taking part as a medical officer in the war, he had settled down
as a doctor in his native town. Here he had met Prince Leopold, who had
been struck by his ability, and, on his marriage, brought him to England
as his personal physician. A curious fate awaited this young man;
many were the gifts which the future held in store for him--many and
various--influence, power, mystery, unhappiness, a broken heart. At
Claremont his position was a very humble one; but the Princess took
a fancy to him, called him "Stocky," and romped with him along the
corridors. Dyspeptic by constitution, melancholic by temperament, he
could yet be lively on occasion, and was known as a wit in Coburg. He
was virtuous, too, and served the royal menage with approbation. "My
master," he wrote in his diary, "is the best of all husbands in all the
five quarters of the globe; and his wife bears him an amount of love,
the greatness of which can only be compared with the English national
debt." Before long he gave proof of another quality--a quality which was
to colour the whole of his life-cautious sagacity. When, in the spring
of 1817, it was known that the Princess was expecting a child, the post
of one of her physicians-in-ordinary was offered to him, and he had