William the most fitting tribute of all

It lasted less than four minutes. The Queen's speech was a mere 414 words long - and no, "love" was not one of them. But each word will now be analysed, pored over, debated and dissected as every commentator and pundit in the land - and indeed anyone who ever had an opinion about the royal family - tries to work out what it means for the future of the monarchy.

The Queen was trying to do something many regarded as impossible - not just to mend the seven-year rift between the Windsors and the Spencers, but also to leave a legacy that ensures that her reign will not forever be overshadowed by the death of Diana and the Queen's much-criticised reaction to that tragedy.

That the Queen knew full well the weight of expectations hanging on her speech was plain for all to see: not only had she written some six or seven drafts before arriving at the final version, but when she arrived at the memorial fountain she clasped her words close to her, folding and smoothing the speech as if it were something precious: which, of course, it was.

And if the speech did not contain that muchdiscussed word, love, well - there were plenty of pundits around to vouchsafe that such emotive, touchy-feely talk is simply not the Queen's style.

There were other words, however: words of tribute to Diana which showed that the Queen acknowledged at least some of the criticisms that have been made over the years. She spoke of "the extraordinary effect" Diana had on people, on "her drive to empathise with those in difficulty, hardship or distress": she spoke of the Diana she and others knew more personally, "as sister, wife, mother or daughter-in-law". It was honest, too: "Of course there were difficult times," she went on, "but memories mellow with the passing of the years."

Words can only say so much, however: and much that was said came not from words but actions, the unspoken language of a quiet gesture that reveals so much. Both the Queen and Earl Spencer knew that when they greeted each other in public for the first time since his lacerating speech at Diana's funeral, the eyes of the world would be upon them. But Earl Spencer was not going to give any hostages to fortune there: when the Queen arrived he bowed gracefully and shook her hand with a smile - a dutiful subject greeting his monarch, with no trace of past animosities to taint the meeting.

AFEW seconds later he shook hands with the Prince of Wales, and how different it was. No smile, no warmth, just a passing moment, and instantly it was clear that the rift between Diana's husband and brother was as wide as it has ever been. Later, when the official part of the ceremony was over, the two men exchanged more words with as much civility as they could muster, but nothing could erase the cold formality of that first encounter.

Earl Spencer could also be seen chatting with the Duke of Edinburgh. The two spoke animatedly, almost warmly, and it was clear that both the Windsors and the Spencers were doing the best to put on a decent public show, and rub along the best they could - a rapprochement which might not be so easily achieved between Earl Spencer and the Prince of Wales. Some wounds will never heal.

Later there was the traditional walkabout, and never was there a clearer illustration of how much Diana changed the royal family.

There was the Queen, moving along the crowd with practised professionalism. She chatted briefly, they looked back with awestruck respect and faltering smiles.

Then along came Prince William, smiling, shaking hands, kneeling down to talk to the little children. This was Diana's son: and, for the royal family, perhaps a memorial of another kind.