The king's closet and the queen's closet are filled mostly by the
Flemings. Vandyck's room finally finishes the list. It has, besides
a portrait of himself and several more of the first Charles and his
family in every pose, some such queer, or worse than queer, commoners
as Tom Killigrew and Sir Kenelm Digby and Venetia his hopeful spouse,
so dear to novelists of a certain school.

[Illustration: ELMS NEAR THE HERONRY.]

Vast sums have been expended on the renovation and improvement of the
castle during the past half century. With Victoria it has been more
popular as a residence than with any of her predecessors since
the fourteenth century. What, however, with its greater practical
proximity to London, due to railways, and what with the queen's liking
for solitude since the death of her consort, the more secluded
homes of Osborne and Balmoral have measurably superseded it in her
affections. Five hundred miles of distance to the Dee preclude the
possibility of the dumping on her, by means of excursion trains, of
loyal cockneydom. She is as thoroughly protected from that inundation
in the Isle of Wight, the average Londoner having a fixed horror of
sea-sickness. The running down, by her private steamer, of a few more
inquisitive yachts in the Solent would be a hazardous experiment, if
temporarily effective in keeping home invaders at bay. Holding as her
right and left bowers those two sanctuaries at the opposite ends of
her island realm, she can play a strong hand in the way of personal
independence, and cease to feel that hers is a monarchy limited by the
rights of the masses. It is well for the country that she should be
left as far as possible to consult her own comfort, ease and health
at least as freely as the humblest of her subjects. The continuance
of her life is certainly a political desideratum. It largely aids in