the cook, insisted on broiling it. Albemarle adds that he, boy-like,
taunted her with her culinary failure, saying: "_You_ would make a
pretty Queen, wouldn't you?" At another time, some years later, she came
in her carriage to make a morning-call at his grandmother's, and seeing a
crowd gathered before the door, attracted by the royal liveries, she ran
out a back-way, came round, and mingled with the curious throng
unrecognized, and as eager to see the Princess as any of them.

Not being allowed the society of her mother, and that of her father not
being considered wholesome for her, the Princess was early advised and
urged to take a companion and counsellor in the shape of a husband. The
Prince of Orange, afterwards King of the Netherlands, was fixed upon as a
good _parti_ by her royal relatives, and he came courting to the English
Court. But the Princess did hot altogether fancy this aspirant, so, after
her independent fashion, she declined the alliance, and "the young man
went away sorrowing."

One of the ladies of the Princess used to tell how for a few minutes
after the Prince had called to make his sad _adieux_, she hoped that
Her Royal Highness had relented because she walked thoughtfully to the
window to see the last of him as he descended the palace steps and sprang
into his carriage, looking very grand in his red uniform, with a tuft of
green feathers in his hat. But when the Princess turned away with a gay
laugh, saying, "How like a radish he looks," she knew that all was over.
It is an odd little coincidence, that a later Prince of Orange,
afterwards King of the Netherlands, had the same bad luck as a suitor to
the Princess or Queen Victoria.

Charlotte's next lover, Leopold, of Saxe-Coburg, an amiable and able
Prince, was more fortunate. He won the light but constant heart of the