Sadness and pride walked hand in hand during today's procession in which the Queen Mother was taken on the penultimate stage of the journey to her final resting place.

There was sorrow in plenty among the mourning crowds who lined the route to pay their respects to the nation's favourite great-grandmother.

Some heads were bowed as the gun carriage bearing the flag-draped coffin made its meas-ured way past them.

Others stared ahead, following the coffin with their eyes as their thoughts dwelled on the woman who, throughout all our lives, had so successfully combined warmth and vivacity with dignity and grace.

But there was bound to be pride too, at the efficiency with which this moving event had been so swiftly organised.

Britain might have lost an empire since that damp day in May, 1937 when King George VI and Queen Elizabeth rode through London in the Coronation coach.

The 2-mile procession of that day, including many military contingents from distant lands which are no longer coloured red on the maps, might have shrunk to a mere half a mile.

But putting it all together was a tremendous achievement. Britain can still rise to the great State occasion.

Yesterday, in the greyness of dawn, a spectral procession had made its way from St James's Palace to Westminster Hall along the near-deserted streets of the route in a full-scale dress rehearsal, the drum being banged and the bands playing their funeral marches and the organisers consulting their stop-watches to ensure that the tight schedule would be met.

Today, that meticulous preparation paid off. The gun carriage and horses were lined up against chalk lines drawn on the tarmac.

The Queen Mother's coronation crown, the giant Koh-I-Noor diamond prominent among its 2,800 jewels, glinted in place of the mock crown which had ridden on top of the rehearsal coffin.

The stand-in mourners were substituted by members of the Royal Family and for a frozen moment in time the procession stood, stock still and silent, waiting for the signal to move off.

London's flowerbeds glowed in April sunshine which must have made the waiting difficult for the guardsmen in their full ceremonial uniforms.

The signal came on the very stroke of 11.30am, and the procession began, proceeding at 70 paces per minute precisely. At that same split second, the Royal Horse Artillery began their salute in Green Park, where a gun was fired every minute, on the minute, the final salute timed to take place the instant the gun carriage bearing the Queen Mother's body pulled up outside Westminster Hall.

Down the Mall this long and orderly column of people processed, watched by a respectful crowd. Into Horse Guards Road they turned, then on to pass the Cenotaph where representatives of the Royal British Legion, so strongly supported by the Queen Mother over the years, lowered their standards in tribute.

The members of the Royal Family, walking immediately behind the coffin, looked deep in thought: Prince Philip, the Princess Royal the only woman among them, the Duke of York and Earl of Wessex. And, of course, Prince Charles, grief etched on his face and his mind clearly overwhelmed with memories of his beloved grandmother.

Four bands played as the procession continued down Whitehall and around Parliament Square, helping the soldiers, sailors and airmen to keep time as they marched so slowly and solemnly, the music sometimes overlapping as the procession passed by.

The gun carriage drew to a halt outside Westminster Hall and, true to the promise, the final gun blasted out its tribute. The Irish Guards took off their bearskin hats, carefully shouldered the draped coffin, and carried the Queen Mother's body to the place where it will now rest until Tuesday's funeral.

The nation had said the first instalment of its farewell to this much-loved lady in a manner in which she surely would have thoroughly approved - with dignity, decorum and style.