Between ourselves, I behaved far better than a brother of mine once did under similar circumstances.  Many years before I was born, my father lent his Scotch house to Queen Victoria and the Prince Consort for ten days.  This entailed my two eldest sisters and two eldest brothers vacating their nurseries in favour of the Royal children, and their being transferred to the farm, where they had very cramped quarters indeed.  My second brother deeply resented being turned out of his comfortable nursery, and refused to be placated.  On the day after the Queen’s arrival, my mother took her four eldest children to present them to Her Majesty, my sisters dressed in their best clothes, my brothers being in kilts.  They were duly instructed as to how they were to behave, and upon being presented, my two sisters made their curtsies, and my eldest brother made his best bow.  “And this, your Majesty, is my second boy.  Make your bow, dear,” said my mother; but my brother, his heart still hot within him at being expelled from his nursery, instead of bowing, stood on his head in his kilt, and remained like that, an accomplishment of which he was very proud.  The Queen was exceedingly angry, so later in the day, upon my brother professing deep penitence, he was taken back to make his apologies, when he did precisely the same thing over again, and was consequently in disgrace during the whole of the Royal visit.  In strict confidence, I believe that he would still do it to-day, more than seventy-two years later.

During her stay in my father’s house the Queen quite unexpectedly announced that she meant to give a dance.  This put my mother in a great difficulty, for my sisters had no proper clothes for a ball, and in those pre-railway days it would have taken at least ten days to get anything from Edinburgh or Glasgow.  My mother had a sudden inspiration.  The muslin curtains in the drawing-room!  The drawing-room curtains were at once commandeered; the ladies’- maids set to work with a will, and I believe that my sisters looked extremely well dressed in the curtains, looped up with bunches of rowan or mountain-ash berries.

My mother was honoured with Queen Victoria’s close friendship and confidence for over fifty years.  At the time of her death she had in her possession a numerous collection of letters from the Queen, many of them very long ones.  By the express terms of my mother’s will, those letters will never be published.  Many of them touch on exceedingly private matters relating to the Royal family, others refer to various political problems of the day.  I have read all those letters carefully, and I fully endorse my mother’s views.  She was honoured with the confidence of her Sovereign, and that confidence cannot be betrayed.  The letters are in safe custody, and there they will remain.  On reading them it is impossible not to be struck with Queen Victoria’s amazing shrewdness, and with her unfailing common sense.  It so happens that both a brother and a sister of mine, the late Duchess of Buccleuch, were brought into very close contact with Queen Victoria.  It was this quality of strong common sense in the Queen which continually impressed them, as well as her very high standard of duty.