She had a throne erected in her state-room, and was styled by her servants and those who wished to pay court to her, or borrow money from her, 'Altesse.' Report said she drank rather copiously--certainly her face bore every mark of that habit, and had lost the rosy, frank, good-humoured beauty which had charmed the sovereign who had ennobled her.
Although she did not address me in the circle at Ranelagh, I was at this period as well known as the Prince of Wales, and she had no difficulty in finding my house in Berkeley Square; whither a note was next morning despatched to me.

'An old friend of Monsieur de Balibari,' it stated (in extremely bad French), 'is anxious to see the Chevalier again and to talk over old happy times.

Rosina de Liliengarten (can it be that Redmond Balibari has forgotten her ?) will be at her house in Leicester Fields all the morning, looking for one who would never have passed her by TWENTY YEARS ago.' Rosina of Liliengarten it was indeed--such a full-blown Rosina I have seldom seen.

I found her in a decent first-floor in Leicester Fields (the poor soul fell much lower afterwards) drinking tea, which had somehow a very strong smell of brandy in it; and after salutations, which would be more tedious to recount than they were to perform, and after further straggling conversation, she gave me briefly the following narrative of the events in X----, which I may well entitle the 'Princess's Tragedy.' 'You remember Monsieur de Geldern, the Police Minister.

He was of Dutch extraction, and, what is more, of a family of Dutch Jews.