My hand crept into hers and she pressed it reassuringly. I loved her so much and thought: We shall always be together.

We had arrived.

At length the great moment came and I was ushered into the presence of the King.

I saw a figure so huge that even the very large and ornate chair in which he sat seemed too small to hold him and he flowed over it as though someone had tried to pour him in and spilt some of him. The analogy made me want to giggle. I restrained myself severely and swept the most profound curtsy I had ever made in my life. It was effective, I am sure. It should have been. I had been practicing it ever since I had known I was to meet him.

“So this is Victoria.” His voice was soft and really musical, and I loved music. “Come here, my dear child.”

So I went and looked up into that huge face; his cravat came right up to his chins and his cheeks seemed to wobble. He had beautiful pink cheeks and his hair was a mass of luxuriant curls. I thought: Some parts of him are so beautiful.

He was watching me as intently as I was watching him.

Then he said, “Give me your little paw.”

Paw! What a strange name to give a hand! It seemed very funny and I forgot Mama's instructions and laughed.

He took my hand in his, which was very large, white, and sparkling with rings.

He laughed with me, so at least he was not annoyed.

“Such a pretty little paw,” he said. He turned to the lady who was standing close to his chair. She was very beautiful though rather fat— but not nearly so fat as the King. Perhaps it was her clothes that made her seem so splendid. He said, “Lift her up, my dear. I want to see her closely.”

So I was set on his knee, which was soft and wobbly like a feather cushion. It was an odd sensation to be so close to his face. I was fascinated by the delicate pink of his cheeks and the curls of his hair, which looked as though they belonged to a young man, and yet the pouches under his eyes made him look like an old one.

He looked at me as though he found my appearance interesting and because of his lovely voice and his kindly looks I began to wonder why Mama hated him so much. He was not nearly so awe-inspiring as I had expected him to be. He seemed as though he wanted to please me as much as I wanted to please him.

He said how delighted he was that I had come to see him. “It was good of you,” he added.

“I was told I must come,” I said.

Then I felt that was the wrong thing to have said because it sounded as though I didn't want to. I went on hurriedly, “I was so excited. But there was a great deal to remember…so I hope I do not do anything wrong.”

He laughed. It was a very friendly laugh. He said, “My dear little Victoria, I very much doubt that anything you did would be wrong in my eyes.”

“But I do do things which are wrong…”

“Perhaps we all do…now and then.”

“Even you, Uncle King?”

There! I had said it! Mama would be listening. Oh dear, there would be a lecture.

He was smiling still. “Yes, even Uncle King.”

“Of course I should have said Your Majesty.”

“Do you know, I like Uncle King better.”

“Do you really…Uncle King?”

Then we both laughed again. I was so relieved and I quite liked sitting on his blubbery knee and watching his old-young face and wishing my hair curled as beautifully as his did, and thinking how different he was from what I had expected.

“You look rather pleased,” he said. “I believe you are enjoying your visit and finding Uncle King not such an old ogre as you may have been led to believe.”

I hunched my shoulders and nodded, for that was exactly the truth.

He asked me questions and I told him about the dolls and how I was rather pleased that Queen Elizabeth's skirt was torn and had been for several days and Lehzen had not noticed it yet. “She was so vain,” I said. “She deserved it.”

He agreed.

Then he said he must give me a little memento of our meeting. I was not sure what that meant but guessed it was some sort of present, and so it proved to be for he said to the plump lady, “Bring it, my dear.”

She brought a miniature of a very beautiful young man set in diamonds.

“It is lovely,” I cried. “What a beautiful young man.”

“You don't recognize him?”

I looked puzzled. I lifted my eyes to his face. The plump lady was nodding and trying to tell me something. I did not understand.

“I daresay I have changed since that was done,” said the King sadly.

Then I knew. I looked closely and I did see a faint resemblance between the face in the picture and that of my benign young-old Uncle King.

I smiled. “It is you …Uncle King. It was because it was so small and you are bigger now …I didn't see it at first.”

It was a little late, but he did not seem to mind so much after all.

He turned to the fat lady. “Pin the miniature on her dress, my dear.”

The fat lady, perfumed and silky, leaned over and smiling at me, obeyed.

“There! That will remind you of this day.”

“Oh, I should not have forgotten… not ever.”

“You are a very nice little girl,” he said. “I have given you a present. What will you give me?”

I thought hard. One of the dolls? Queen Elizabeth perhaps…we could mend her skirt.

He said with a smile, “A kiss would be very nice.”

That was easy. In spite of my disapproval of Queen Elizabeth I was glad I was not going to lose her. He put his face forward and I was so happy because the visit, which I had been dreading so much, had been so easy, and because he was kind and hadn't minded in the least being called Uncle King; and partly because he had been a little hurt because I had not recognized him as the beautiful young man in the picture, I put my arms around his neck and kissed him twice.

There was a brief silence. I had done something terrible. Mama would say I had behaved in a most vulgar way. Lehzen would be hurt because I had disgraced her. I had been warned, time after time, that I should be in the presence of the King. I was only to lift my lips and smile, and I was not to do that often. The King would be furious. He would say I had ignored his royalty. Oh dear, what had I done!

I drew away and then I saw his face. There were tears in his eyes. He seemed suddenly much nicer than the man in the picture. He put his arms around me and held me tightly against him. It was like lying on a feather bed.

He said, “You are a dear little girl and you have given me great pleasure.” Then he kissed me.

And in that moment I loved Uncle King.


* * *

WHEN THE AUDIENCE was over and we went to our rooms in Cumberland Lodge which were made ready for us, I was still thinking about Uncle King. Mama said nothing about my behavior, which was very strange. But she was thoughtful.

I longed to be alone with Feodore so that I could ask her why there was this odd silence. There was something else I wanted to ask Feodore. What had she thought of the King? When she had been presented to him, he had shown clearly that he liked her. Her chair had been placed next to his and he had engaged her in conversation for quite a long time. I had heard them laughing together. I think she quite liked him, too. In fact, it was difficult not to like him. He was so pleasant and charming to everyone, and if one did not look at him one could quite imagine someone as handsome as the young man in the miniature.

As Lehzen sat in my bedroom until Mama came to bed, I did not talk, but lay quietly thinking of the visit. I was still not asleep when Mama came up.

She came to my bed and looked down at me. “Not asleep?” she asked. “Why not?”

“I do not know why not,” I answered. “It is just that I am not asleep.”

Mama said, “It has been an exciting day. You were presented to the King.”

I thought: Now it is coming. I am going to hear what a disgrace I was to them all, how badly I had behaved, throwing my arms about the King's neck; and kissing him twice when only one kiss had been asked for was an offense to royalty. I might be sent to the Tower like poor Sir Walter Raleigh, one of the most splendid of the dolls.

“The King was in a good mood today,” said Mama.

I was going to say how much I liked him, but I did not think that was what Mama wanted to hear.

“You should be careful, Victoria.”

“Oh yes, Mama.”

“Remember your uncle is the King.”

“Oh, I won't forget.”

“Sometimes he hardly behaves like one.”

“I thought he was very nice, Mama. He has lovely hair and such pink cheeks… and yet he is very very old.”

“Things are not always what they seem. The hair is not his own. It is a wig and his cheeks are painted.”

I was astounded, and tried to imagine what he would look like without those lovely curls.

“They did look very nice,” I commented, still wanting to speak for him, “and even if the curls were not his own, his kindness was.”

Mama ignored that. She said earnestly, “If he were to make any suggestion to you, you must tell me at once.”

“What suggestion, Mama?”

“I think he liked you.”

“Oh yes, he did. He said I was a dear little girl. He didn't mind that I called him Uncle King. I think he liked it.”

“He would! If ever he should ask you if you would like to live at Windsor, you must tell me at once.”

To live at Windsor! To see the King often! To ride in the park …perhaps to be alone now and then…It did not seem such a terrible prospect.

“To live at Windsor …,” I said excitedly.