With a swish and a thunderous sigh of relief, the red velvet curtain falls on the end of the first week of the first official royal tour for the Duchess of Cambridge.
And so far, so very, very good. Most excellent work, your royal Sister of Pippa-ness.
Really, things could not have gone better. During her nine days in Canada, the Duchess did not squash any toddlers under her impeccable nude platforms, suffer a wardrobe malfunction nor flash any unfortunate boob-age at the grateful Canadian nation.
Agreed, there were a few blowy moments in cricket whites and primrose silk when we saw envious yardage of royal thigh and the merest glimpse of knickerdom. Yet after a few desperate tugs on the hem of her pretty summer dresses, duchessorial blushes were spared.
No circle-of-shame snaps in a glossy magazine for HRH Kate this week, thank you very much. Elsewhere, international incidents, diplomatic skirmishes, awkward moments when she fled to the airport clutching her passport, trying to buy a one-way ticket to Monaco? All avoided.
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