adventure. Not quite sure of Her Majesty's identity - I had
never heard there was a Queen - I naively asked my mother, in
a very audible stage-whisper, 'Who is the old lady with - ?'
My mother dragged me off the instant she had made her
curtsey. She had a quick sense of humour; and, judging from
her laughter, when she told her story to another lady in the
supper room, I fancied I had said or done something very
funny. I was rather disconcerted at being seriously
admonished, and told I must never again comment upon the
breath of ladies who condescended to kiss, or to speak to,
me.

While we lived at Kensington, Lord Anglesey used often to pay
my mother a visit. She had told me the story of the battle
of Waterloo, in which my Uncle George - 6th Lord Albemarle -
had taken part; and related how Lord Anglesey had lost a leg
there, and how one of his legs was made of cork. Lord
Anglesey was a great dandy. The cut of the Paget hat was an
heirloom for the next generation or two, and the gallant
Marquis' boots and tightly-strapped trousers were patterns of
polish and precision. The limp was perceptible; but of which
leg, was, in spite of careful investigation, beyond my
diagnosis. His presence provoked my curiosity, till one fine
day it became too strong for resistance. While he was busily
engaged in conversation with my mother, I, watching for the
chance, sidled up to his chair, and as soon as he looked
away, rammed my heel on to his toes. They were his toes.
And considering the jump and the oath which instantly
responded to my test, I am persuaded they were abnormally
tender ones. They might have been made of corns, certainly