King Leopold’s counsels continued.  The Princess de Lieven, he said, was a dangerous woman; there was reason to think that she would make attempts to pry into what did not concern her, let Victoria beware.  “A rule which I cannot sufficiently recommend is never to permit people to speak on subjects concerning yourself or your affairs, without you having yourself desired them to do so.”  Should such a thing occur, “change the conversation, and make the individual feel that he has made a mistake.”  This piece of advice was also taken; for it fell out as the King had predicted.  Madame de Lieven sought an audience, and appeared to be verging towards confidential topics; whereupon the Queen, becoming slightly embarrassed, talked of nothing but commonplaces.  The individual felt that she had made a mistake.

The King’s next warning was remarkable.  Letters, he pointed out, are almost invariably read in the post.  This was inconvenient, no doubt; but the fact, once properly grasped, was not without its advantages.  “I will give you an example:  we are still plagued by Prussia concerning those fortresses; now to tell the Prussian Government many things, which we should not like to tell them officially, the Minister is going to write a despatch to our man at Berlin, sending it by post; the Prussians are sure to read it, and to learn in this way what we wish them to hear.  Analogous circumstances might very probably occur in England.  I tell you the Trick,” wrote His Majesty, “that you should be able to guard against it.”  Such were the subtleties of constitutional sovereignty.

It seemed that the time had come for another step.  The King’s next letter was full of foreign politics—­the situation in Spain and Portugal, the character of Louis Philippe; and he received a favourable answer.  Victoria, it is true, began by saying that she had shown the political part of his letter to Lord Melbourne; but she proceeded to a discussion of foreign affairs.  It appeared that she was not unwilling to exchange observations on such matters with her uncle.  So far so good.  But King Leopold was still cautious; though a crisis was impending in his diplomacy, he still hung back; at last, however, he could keep silence no longer.  It was of the utmost importance to him that, in his manoeuvrings with France and Holland, he should have, or at any rate appear to have, English support.  But the English Government appeared to adopt a neutral attitude; it was too bad; not to be for him was to be against him, could they not see that?  Yet, perhaps, they were only wavering, and a little pressure upon them from Victoria might still save all.  He determined to put the case before her, delicately yet forcibly—­just as he saw it himself.  “All I want from your kind Majesty,” he wrote, “is, that you will occasionally express to your Ministers, and particularly to good Lord Melbourne, that, as far