Last evening such a sunset! I was sitting gazing at it and thinking of Lady Charlotte Proby’s verses, when from an open window below this floor began suddenly to sound the Prince’s orgue expressif, played by his masterly hand. Such a modulation, minor and solemn, and ever changing, and never ceasing, from a piano like Jenny Lind’s holding note, up to the fullest swell, and still the same “fine vein of melancholy”! And it came in so exactly as an accompaniment to the sunset. How strange he is! He must have been playing just while the Queen was finishing her toilette. And then he went to cut jokes and eat loads at dinner, and nobody but the organ knows what is in him—except, indeed, by the look of his eyes sometimes ...