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Caroline the Queen
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Текст книги "Caroline the Queen"


Автор книги: Виктория Холт



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‘I must, Your Majesty. And I thank you for your goodness.’

She knelt and kissed the Queen’s hand.

And that very day Henrietta Howard left Court and went to stay at the house of her brother, Lord Hobart, in his house in St James’s Square until she could make her preparations to leave for Marble Hill.

Court Scandals

THE whole Court was talking about Carlton House in Pall Mall which the Prince of Wales had bought from Lord Chesterfield. The cost was six thousand pounds, which of course the Prince could not pay, so he borrowed the money from his Treasurer giving his promise to repay it within a certain time.

The point was, of course, that when the time came he could not find the money so he had to borrow it from Dodington.

There was nothing unusual in this but for the fact that Frederick who, in the more refined company of Chesterfield had begun to tire of Dodington, boasted that he had wheedled the money out of Dodington who would never, very likely, see it again, as though in deceiving his onetime friend he had done something very clever.

‘A very odious young gentleman,’ commented Lord Hervey to Sir Robert Walpole when the latter came to the Palace to spend his usual session with the Queen.

To which Sir Robert replied, ‘You see into what honest and just hands the care and government of this country is likely one day to be committed!’

Lord Hervey agreed with him and asked himself how he could ever have looked upon that odious young gentleman as a friend.

His increased rancour towards the Prince made him think of Miss Vane and wonder how that  ménage was faring. Thus when he occasionally saw the young woman he would look her way and she would look at him.

Her beauty had not diminished; in fact being the Prince’s acknowledged mistress had given her a new poise which was very becoming.

Lord Hervey noticed that she no longer gave him cold looks, but was warm, even inviting; and the prospect of what this could lead to was irresistible.

He had heard that she often took a walk in St James’s Park for her health’s sake and he contrived to be walking there at the same time.

They saw each other, but as Anne had a companion with her, did not speak. But on the next day Anne sent her companion back to her house for a glove which she said she had left behind and this gave her the opportunity to speak to Lord Hervey.

‘What a handsome woman!’ he said as he approached her.

‘What a handsome man! ‘ she retorted.

‘But I thought,’ Anne remarked with a laugh, ‘that they hated each other.’

‘You know they could never do that.’

‘It was jealousy,’ said Anne.

Hervey agreed, adding: ‘But we must waste no more time.’

‘I shall be joined by my companion soon. She has gone back for my glove. She’ll be here at any moment. She must not see us together. I no longer trust anyone and if it should get to Fred’s ears ...’

‘There is a coffee house,’ said Hervey, ‘behind Buckingham House. Let us meet there tomorrow afternoon and make ... plans.’


* * *

It was more than plans they made in the coffee house. They were both intrigued by the adventure. Anne admitted that she had always preferred Lord Hervey to any of her other lovers. He did not explain that his desire to revenge himself on the Prince of Wales was part of her attraction for him; in any case she was a very personable young woman; and her years with the Prince of Wales, being courted, meeting his friends, men of far greater intellect than his, had had their effect on her.

But she was ready for adventure, too. She had never meant to settle down, which was more or less what she had done since the birth of little FitzFrederick, and living in an establishment set up for her by the Prince of Wales had meant that she could not easily take other lovers.

It was amusing to arrive at the coffee house adequately disguised and mount to one of the rooms which the coffeehouse keeper kept for occasions such as these, to lock the door and laugh together at the success of their adventure.

And when they had made love she would tell him all the latest exploits of the Prince of Wales—how he was growing more and more tired of Bubb Dodington; how Bolingbroke was constantly with him, advising him this way and that; and how Lord Chesterfield was beginning to take the place which Dodington once had held, only of course the Prince could never despise him as he had poor Bubb. And the amusing thing was that it was Bubb who had introduced him to Mr Lyttleton who was becoming such a close friend and who was working hand in glove with Lord Chesterfield.

‘Poor Bubb!’ said Anne. ‘I don’t think  he is going to last much longer.’

Then she would try to remember everything the Prince had said and done because her lover found that all so interesting; and as she was more devoted to Lord Hervey than to any lover she had ever had she wanted to keep him; therefore it was pleasant to have not only her considerable charms to offer but information which amused him so.

Every time they left the coffee house they made arrangements to meet again.

As they walked in the gardens the King talked to the Queen about the war in Europe.

This was the war of the Polish Succession. Louis XV had a Polish wife and he wanted to secure the throne for her father, Stanislaus Leczinski; Russia, Austria, and the German Princes backed the claims of the Saxon Elector, Augustus III, and when Louis had put his father-in-law on the throne the Russians had driven him from it and made Augustus King. The French, therefore, always with new territorial claims in view, instead of declaring war on Russia which was too far away, turned on Austria as the best way of helping Stanislaus Leczinski. But the real aim of the French was to oust the Habsburgs and secure French supremacy in Europe.

The Emperor naturally looked to his two allies, Holland and England.

The Princess Anne’s new husband went off to fight and the King was eager to do the same; and this was the theme of his conversation as he walked in the gardens with the Queen.

‘We must tell the fat man (his name for Walpole) that I am determined to go to war.’

‘Walpole is against England’s going into the war.’

‘Then he must change his mind. It is England’s duty to be in this war. Why should I stand by and see other generals win the laurels which by rights belong to me!’

‘We must persuade him,’ said the Queen. ‘We must make him see that it is our wish.’

‘Send for him! Send for him as soon as we return to the Palace.’

‘Shall we return now?’

The King hesitated and looked at his watch. Not even for the sake of the war would he interrupt a habit.

‘Fifteen minutes more,’ he said.

Caroline sighed inwardly. Her legs ached. They were becoming more and more swollen and the pain was increasing. She was beginning to dread these walks; she was terrified that she would betray the fact that they were too much for her.

‘We shall soon have Anne back with us,’ she said.

It was an unfortunate remark because it reminded the King that Anne’s husband, the Prince of Orange, had gone to the wars and that was why she would be able to pay a visit to her parents so soon after her marriage.

‘That baboon!  He can go to war. He can win distinction in battle while I ...’

‘We will talk to the fat man,’ said the Queen.

He glowered at her, venting on her the anger he felt towards a fate which denied him battle honours.

‘And who are you to laugh at the fat man? We should call you the fat woman. The way you stuff away at your chocolate is the cause.’

She was silent, hoping no one had heard, for he had raised his voice and their attendants always kept a respectful though not too remote distance as they walked.

Why did she not retort: And you, you silly little man, have scarcely a thought in your head that doesn’t spring from your own vanity.

Then she fell to wondering why it was that in spite of all his faults she was fond of him and could not imagine her life without him; and she knew that in spite of the way in which she constantly irritated him he admired and loved her more than any other person on Earth. If anyone else had attempted to criticize her he would have fallen into a passion of rage. She was his, entirely his, and to him only belonged the right to abuse.

She sighed and gave her mind up to the persuasion she would use with Walpole, for this was one of the rare occasions when she and the King were on one side against the Prime Minister.


* * *

Walpole faced them in the King’s closet. He was as determined as they were. England was not going to war. Usually he could rely on the Queen, but this time she was against him.

Germans! thought Walpole. Both of them, and in an issue like this it comes out. But England is not going to be sacrificed for the sake of Germany for a hundred Kings and Queens.

‘Your Majesties, the English people want peace. They have no heart for this fight.’

The King’s eyes bulged with fury. ‘We have our duty to think of.’

‘I know Your Majesty will agree with me that our first duty is to the people of this country.’

‘It is the people of this country I think of.’

‘Then Your Majesty will rejoice in the prosperity we have brought to them and join with me in admitting that this prosperity is entirely due to peace.’

‘And when the French are in command of Europe what peace then?’

‘Your Majesty, countries rarely prosper from wars. This will be no easy conquest. And in the unlikely event of Louis’ and Fleury’s conquering Europe, France will be exhausted by the struggle and we so strong because of our exemption from it that we will be in command.’

‘We have our duty,’ said the King. ‘The Queen and I cannot hold up our heads if we desert our allies.’

‘Your Majesties will hold up your heads very proudly among the English if you keep them out of war.’

The King began one of his harangues, not very logical, not very lucid, thought Walpole. What a German he is! His heart is in Germany. And he’s a fool—a conceited fool who wants to plunge this country into war so that he can parade as a brilliant soldier, so that he can come home and wear the crown of laurels. But it shall not be. This is my country as well as his and I am going to keep it at peace.

And the Queen? He was disappointed in the Queen. She was a German at heart too. She could not conceive that the German Empire should be at war and she not with it. She had once seemed so loyal to England; she had really loved her new country. But she was ill. Walpole noticed the physical deterioration. There were times when she could scarcely stand for fatigue and she continued to, smiling, pretending, because in this royal family there was something shameful about confessing to physical defects.

Mrs Clayton had some hold over her. Not that Mrs Clayton would ever dare threaten the Queen. It was as though she kept a secret and her reward for doing so was to be on very specially intimate terms.

Strange that she should support the King in this. Was it love of Germany, the effect of fatigue, or the knowledge that the King was so set on going to war that he would never be deterred from this desire and she had no intention of attempting something which she knew could only end in defeat.

Was she losing her physical hold on him? In spite of his infidelities he was still an uxorious husband. He thought Caroline beautiful; he spent his allotted time with her; her hold on him, Walpole had always known, was partly physical. If that side of their relationship ceased, immediately the bond would slacken. George was that sort of man.

What an anxiety for the Queen!

He brought his mind back to George’s torrent of words, but he was not going to be moved by them. He would lose his favour with them both rather than see England forced into a war which could do her no good and could be brought to no satisfactory conclusion. He thought Louis a fool to have put his father-in-law on the Polish throne for sentimental reasons, for that was what it amounted to. Cardinal Fleury, the real ruler of France, must have deplored that action, but at the same time was using the situation to make a fresh bid to satisfy French territorial claims.

Foolish Louis! He, Walpole, would see that George should not be as foolish.

George was glaring at him, eyes bulging, wig askew, cheeks purple; but Walpole lowered his eyes and said coolly : ‘If England takes part in this fight for a Polish crown, the Crown of England will as surely be come to be fought for as that of Poland. And now may I have Your Majesties leave to retire.’

‘You have ‘ shouted the King. ‘And go ... and don’t come back until you have some sense.’

In the coffee house behind Buckingham House, Hervey waited for Anne Vane. He was eager. He had rarely enjoyed an adventure so much; not only had he an extremely pretty and experienced mistress but he was at the same time cuckolding his great enemy the Prince of Wales; he was also dabbling in intrigue because in all affairs at Court, however ineffectual he was as a man, the Prince was a figurehead and therefore of importance.

Walpole was delighted with the information he could bring to him; and it was amusing and stimulating for Lord Hervey to be the close friend and informant of the Prime Minister.

Anne came breathlessly and a little distraught.

‘My dearest,’ said Hervey, ‘what is wrong?’

His heart leaped with excitement. Had the Prince discovered their liaison; he almost hoped he had because it would be so amusing.

‘It’s Fred.’

‘Naturally.’

‘He wants me to take a house in Wimbledon.’

‘He has discovered ...’

She laughed. ‘Not he. There’d be real trouble if he had. He’s worried about FitzFrederick’s health and he thinks the air of London bad for him.’

‘He’s not tiring of you?’

‘No. Never! But he really is fond of FitzFred. He’s continually finding similarities in him to himself.’

‘I hope they are not obvious to others ... for poor little Fitz’s sake.’

‘No. He just imagines. But what about my going to Wimbledon?’

‘We’ll find a way.’

‘I shall have to come up ... at least once a week. You’ll have to come to my house there. We’ll have to give up this coffee house.’

Hervey was not displeased. This gave a new impetus to the adventure.

They embraced and afterwards talked of Frederick.

‘He wants to go to the wars.’

‘Like Papa to fight for Germany.’

‘He fancies himself as a soldier.’

‘They all do ... these Germans. It’s the military instinct. And Fred is angry because he is not allowed to go.’

‘They’re on at him all the time. Lyttleton and Chesterfield with Bolingbroke in the background. He ought to have this.... He ought to have that. Poor Bubb is going to be dropped soon. I don’t know how he’ll take it. The Opposition is going to agitate for war ... just to try to get Walpole out.’

‘They won’t. But it’s amusing to see them try.’

‘Let’s talk about Wimbledon and what we shall do when I’m there.’

They arranged that Anne should come up to London one day a week to her town house. There she would keep only one servant while she was in Wimbledon and see that this servant was out when Hervey arranged to call.

This seemed very suitable and having made their plans Hervey went straight to see Walpole to tell him the effect the King’s clamouring for war was having on the Prince of Wales and his enemies in the Opposition.

He found Walpole in a state of great irritation.

‘I have just been given this paper,’ he told Hervey. ‘Look at it. In French! You can help me translate. It’s written by Haltorf.’

‘Ha!’ cried Hervey. ‘One guesses where Philip von Haltorf’s sympathies lie!’

‘Be fair to the man. He is a German, as well as minister in London for Hanoverian affairs.’

‘And so determined to sacrifice England for Hanover.’

‘As we are determined that England shall make no sacrifices for the Germans.’

Hervey scrutinized the paper.

‘I see he is most disturbed by the growing power of France and the House of Bourbon. He recalls the wars of Queen Anne’s reign. He does not understand why the country which went to war then so readily should be so chary of doing so now. If England does not interfere, France will dominate England.’

‘I shall answer each paragraph separately.’

‘The King will be very peevish.’

‘My lord, England shall not go to war to please a peevish boy.’

‘Not when Sir Robert Walpole—and in his humble way Lord Hervey—are there to prevent it.’

Walpole grasped his hand warmly and Hervey responded with real affection.


* * *

The King continued to fume and the Queen, to Walpole’s disappointment, remained sturdily beside her husband in this matter. ‘The first time I have known her judgment to fail,’ Walpole commented to Hervey. George’s temper grew worse and everyone who came near him suffered for it, the Queen most of all in spite of the fact that she supported him in his desire.

Walpole remained firm. England was not going to war under his leadership; and even the King had to admit that if the matter were put to the country the people would be behind Walpole.

In spite of Hervey’s agreeing with Walpole the Queen liked him none the less. In fact he was growing more and more friendly with her; and this meant that he was on more intimate terms with the King.

Caroline had asked the King to give him an extra thousand pounds a year.

The creature is worth it,’ she said. ‘He is so diverting.’

The King grunted that people at the Court should serve their Majesties for the honour of it, but he agreed that Hervey should have the money.

As a result Hervey grew bolder and bolder and would joke with the Queen in the frankest way; and although she often reproved him for his lack of respect she always did so jokingly and did not wish him to change his manner towards her.

Whenever she rode out he must be beside her chaise. Divert my attention, I pray you,’ she would say, ‘from these tiresome people who so like to hunt little animals to the death.’

And he would remember the latest scandal and tell it so maliciously that she would indeed be diverted and find the hunt a pleasure instead of a bore.

She would call him ‘child’ now and then; and refer to him as her ‘pupil’ and her ‘charge’. All this in the utmost affection; and she would even allow him to laugh at the Prince of Wales, and although she pretended to be shocked and would reprove him with mock sternness he knew that she liked this conversation better than that about anyone else.

So during those months as the antagonism between the Prince of Wales and his parents grew stronger, so did the Queen’s affection for Lord Hervey.

Once when Charlotte Clayton came in and found the Queen and Lord Hervey deep in bantering conversation, Caroline said: ‘If I were not so old I should be talked of for this creature.’

Charlotte Clayton smiled benignly. Hervey had made sure that he kept in her good graces for Walpole had told him that it was his belief that Mrs Clayton had some hold over the Queen and therefore carried influence with her.


* * *

The Queen was delighted because her daughter Anne was coming to England for a visit. This was a great pleasure, for Caroline had only discovered how sadly she would miss her daughter when she had left; and often she would wake up in the night thinking of Anne with that grotesque creature beside her.

And now Anne was coming home because the Prince of Orange was away from Holland fighting.

When the King heard, he was half pleased, half angry. Of all his children, strangely enough he preferred Anne, although that did not mean he had a great affection for her because he cared little for any of his children. But he was sentimental enough to imagine he was pleased to have her home again. Then he began raging because Orange was fighting and he wasn’t.

‘That baboon! ‘ he said. ‘A soldier.’ He glanced in a mirror. Did he see himself as he really was? wondered Caroline. Or did some tall and handsome hero look back at him from the glass? ‘And here am I fiddle faddling at this Court when I should be there.’ Then another thought struck him. ‘I suppose Orange will pay for her journey.’

The Queen soothed him as she so well knew how to do. ‘I am sure Anne will be so pleased that you are not at the wars,’ she said. ‘Otherwise she would miss the pleasure of seeing you.’

He grunted, believing the Queen was right in that.

But he continued to grumble about the ‘gros homme’his name for Walpole who had been so high-handed over this matter and was having his way, too, in keeping England out of the war.

‘A King’s not a King in this place,’ said George, kicking at a stool. ‘Now at Hanover ...’

‘Ah, yes! ‘ sighed the Queen.

She too was thinking of the ‘ gros homme’. He had opposed her over this and she was beginning to wonder whether he did not guide her as she guided the King. But it was the first real difference of opinion they had had; and she must remember that she was after all a German and that it was natural to feel this pull towards one’s own roots. It was the same with Walpole. He was English and to him Hanover was a remote Electorate and he was determined to see that it was never allowed to be an incumbrance to England.

The King left her and she was glad that he had gone before Walpole called for his usual session with her.

As she received him in her closet, she thought he looked less robust than usual; and when a man with his port-wine complexion looked a little pale he somehow contrived to look more ill than a man whose pallor was constant.

This disagreement has upset him, thought the Queen.

Walpole thought the Queen looked extremely fatigued and he was overcome with a sudden fear. Was she concealing an illness? It suddenly struck him that a knowledge of some disability might be the reason for Charlotte Clayton’s hold on her.

He bowed and looked at her almost tenderly. But he could not resist saying what he had come to say.

‘I have just heard, Madam,’ he said, ‘that fifty thousand were slain this year in Europe. And not one of them an Englishman ‘

‘It is sad that fifty thousand have been slain,’ said the Queen.

‘But a matter of rejoicing for this country that not one of them is an Englishman. It brings satisfaction to know they owe their safety to those under whose care and protection they are, and to be able to say that while the rest of Europe has suffered England remains in its full and unimpaired vigour.’

‘You think only of England, Sir Robert.’

‘Ah, Madam, whatever motives of partiality sway me, ought they not naturally with double weight to bias you who have so much more at stake?’

She smiled at him affectionately.

‘I see, Madam,’ he said, ‘that you are inclined to agree with me, and that gives me great pleasure.’

Walpole commented to Lord Hervey afterwards that although the Queen’s good sense told her he was right, she was inclined to cling to her own opinions.

Walpole shrugged his shoulders. ‘And if she cannot convince herself of what in her heart she knows to be right, what chance have I of doing so?’

But as Hervey pointed out it was the government that decided the policy of the country, not the monarch. Absolute monarchy had gone out with the Stuarts.


* * *

Anne arrived surprisingly ebullient.

She imparted the news to her mother with the greatest satisfaction. ‘I am to have a child, Mother.’

‘My dearest daughter!’ Caroline embraced her, and checked her own misgivings. What if Anne should give birth to a monster resembling its father!

‘I hope for a son, naturally,’ said Anne.

‘Your husband must be delighted.’

‘It is no more than Pepin expects.’

Pepin! she spoke his name affectionately. How could she be so satisfied with her fate!

But there was no doubt that she was delighted to be back in England and she expressed no anxiety because Pepin was at the wars.

It seemed, thought Caroline, that all Anne cared about was her position; she had no reason to be very proud of it, but at least she had a husband who was a Prince and she was pregnant and might well give birth to a Prince. What an ambitious mother she would make!

Her new status clearly delighted her as much as it infuriated Frederick. Lord Hervey discovered how angry he was through Anne Vane who said that he had become really bitter since his sister Anne had returned. Frederick would not be contented to remain unmarried and deprived of his rightful allowance much longer. There was going to be trouble with Frederick.

Amelia told Anne to her face that she could not understand how she could possibly become pregnant by such a creature as the Prince of Orange.

‘In the usual way,’ retorted Anne tartly. ‘I often think of you, my poor sister, and what will become of you if. ever Frederick comes to the throne.’

Caroline tried to make peace between the sisters, but Anne snubbed her and said she was even more sorry for her than she was for Amelia.

In spite of differences with her sisters Anne was enjoying her visit. She spent a great deal of time with her mother and they talked of the problems of being married to a ruler of a state; and Caroline, in any case, was delighted to have her daughter with her.

The King was pleased too. He made Anne walk with him, and he grew very sentimental about her and told her about the days when she had been a baby in Hanover.

‘Before we came to this place,’ he said darkly.

‘In the days when you were less important than you are now, Papa.’ Anne had a sharp tongue and had no intention of sparing anyone except Pepin.

‘Less important! Why I tell you this : In Hanover a ruler is a ruler. Here a King does what a fat man tells him to.’

‘The world takes more account of a King than an Elector, though,’ Anne replied.

And he would have grown peevish if he had not schooled himself to believe he was a sentimental parent.

When they had parted Anne met Lord Hervey on his way to her mother’s apartment.

‘You are in more constant attendance on my mother than the King,’ she commented.

‘It is Her Majesty’s wish that I divert her.’

‘As I am sure you do. Poor Mamma! I am glad that she has a little diversion. The company of some people must be very oppressive. I am glad that Lady Suffolk has been dismissed.’

‘Some of us, who are devoted to the Queen, fear that another might take her place who might be more troublesome and more powerful.’

‘Oh, I wish with all my heart that he would find someone else, then Mamma would be a little relieved of seeing him constantly in her rooms.’

Lord Hervey made no comment, but he thought that the Princess Anne was as outspoken as he was, the difference being, of course, that he was only frank where he knew how his frankness would be received.


* * *

The King was taking a new interest in his young daughters, Mary and Louisa. Mary was now ten and Louisa nine.

‘An interesting age,’ said the King; and he had begun to make a practice of visiting their nursery. The strange thing was that he contrived to do this when the children were not there, and thus he was ensured a private  tête-à-tête with their governess.

Lady Deloraine was a very pretty and very frivolous widow, whose husband Henry Scott, Earl of Deloraine, had died a few years before. She was coquettish, indiscreet, and rather silly; but her extremely feminine charms had attracted the King when, having lost Lady Suffolk, he thought it was necessary to his prestige as a man to look round and find a new mistress.

Lady Deloraine had opened her eyes very wide as he entered the nurseries, had swept a deep curtsey and been very respectful, although at the same time implying by the fluttering of her eyelashes and the little giggle with which she punctuated her speech every now and then that she was aware of the King’s motive.

George lapsed into English when he addressed her, which was a language he used rarely now. If people did not understand French or German, he often said, they must not expect to understand him. It was all part of the growing dislike of the country of which he was king.

Tell,’ he said, ‘you are von pretty voman.’

‘Your Majesty is gracious.’

He took her ear and pinched it very gently, at which she sprang back as though in dismay.

‘And were are your charges?’

‘They are walking, Your Majesty, in the gardens. If you would wish me to have them sent for ...’

‘No ... no.... You shall tell me about them. You are the governess. Ve vill sit down and you vill tell.’

So they sat side by side and the King put his arm about her. She had a good body, he thought; not too thin. He did not like them thin. He liked a good ample figure like his dear wife’s.

‘I fear I am not very learned, Your Majesty.’

‘Oh, for shame and you a governess!’

She pretended to look downcast and he patted her hand. ‘I have no respect for all this learning. Boets! Vat are they? Scribble scribble. It is all very yell for people like little Mr Pope. He has no other things to do. But I alvays felt learning was something below me. Nor for a man ... like going to var or ... making love.’

Lady Deloraine squealed with horror.

The King laughed and looked at his watch.

‘Come,’ he said, ‘ye have the time.’

So he rose and gave her his hand; and squealing with pretended horror and assuring His Majesty that she was a very virtuous woman, she allowed herself to be led into one of the bedchambers.


* * *

The Queen was very sad when her daughter departed. Lord Hervey called to find her in the long drawing room with her daughter Caroline.

‘What, Madam,’ he said, ‘drowning your sorrows in chocolate! Ah well, parting is such  sweet sorrow, the poet tells us and you, having some respect for boets … er poets ... believe the truth of this.’

The Queen’s face brightened at the sight of her favourite.

‘Come here, you wicked infant,’ she said, ‘and make me laugh, because I am truly sad to think of my dear Anne going back to that creature of hers.’

‘Oh, Mamma, he is her husband.’

Lord Hervey turned his eyes to the Princess Caroline and basked for a few seconds in her adoration.

‘The Princess Caroline has the best heart in the world,’ he said.

‘I think we are all sorry for poor Anne.’

‘Which happily is more than she is for herself. The Princess Anne pities her sisters.’

‘How I wish the dear child were with me. It is so sad when one’s daughters are taken from one. I am glad I have dear Caroline.’

Caroline took her mother’s hand and kissed it. She looked forward to these meetings for three as much as the other two. She wanted to be the constant companion of the Queen and her adored Hervey; and since she knew that he being married and she a Princess, nothing could come of her devotion, she believed it was preferable that her mother share their interviews.


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