He came to Kew for rest and relaxation. He liked being at Kew; he liked Windsor too; both places were a refuge. At Kew and Windsor the people came out to see him when he rode past their houses. They dropped curtsies to him as though he were a country squire; and he would stop and ask how the crops were this year, and he could talk knowledgeably about the land, too. He ought to have been a farmer, some said.

But what was the use of trying not to think of the Prince of Wales. His son was in debt, and now there was some talk of his

infatuation for a widow. The whole town was talking about it, singing songs about it.

It was no use trying to think of State papers. He would go and see the Queen.

The Queen was at breakfast with her daughters.

Charlotte, the eldest and Princess Royal, looked healthy enough; the others were a trifle pale. He looked at them anxiously for some sign of the family plumpness. He supervised their nursery diet in person; it was the same which had been in force when the Prince of Wales was lord of the nursery. Meat only on certain days and then all the fat was pared off; and if a fruit pie was cooked the pastry was not served to the children—only the fruit; but they could have as many greens as they wished. And they must take fresh air in plenty; they must walk, for exercise was good for them.

He was fond of them, but they were wary of him. It seemed he had gone wrong with his children as well as with his ministers.

'Good morning,' said the Queen and the girls stood up and curtsied.

He smiled at them. 'Having breakfast, eh, what? Eh? And not over eating, I hope. Don't want to be fat. Family tendency.'

The Queen said that it was not a tendency of her side of the family to be fat, and it might well be that the girls would take after her. 'Will Your Majesty take some breakfast?'

'Nothing but a dish of tea for me,' said the King.

'It is not enough,' scolded the Queen as she scolded regularly each morning and no one took the remark seriously.

The King drank his dish of tea and the Princess Royal thought how boring it all was and wondered when they would find a husband for her and she could escape.

She knew that outside the family circle people laughed at the King and Queen. They called them dull and boring; and to listen to their conversation one must agree.

'How time flies,' the King was saying.

*I am always quarrelling with time,' replied the Queen. 'It is so short to do something and so long to do nothing.'

'It is long when we are young and short when we grow old.'

The Queen was looking pointedly at her daughters: 'No-

thing angers me so much as to hear people not know what to do. For me I have never half enough time to do things. What makes me more angry still...' A sterner look at Princess Charlotte this time—'is to see people go up to a window and say "What a bad day it is! What shall we do on such a day as this?" "Do?" I reply. "Employ yourselves and then what signifies a bad day?" '

How dreary it all is! thought Princess Charlotte. No wonder George went wild when he escaped. Who wouldn't? And now he's chasing that widow and everyone is talking about him. Lucky George! I wish he would come here more often. I wish he would talk to us. The only time he ever came to see us was when he imagined himself in love with Mary Hamilton and that was because she happened to be one of our attendants.

What was the latest news of George? Perhaps the King and Queen would talk of him and forget their daughters were present.

But they did not, of course. They were talking of the festivals which the King had started this very year and which meant that everyone must be as enthusiastic about music as their Majesties. And I am not, thought the Princess. She was still a little resentful because the King had said she must have a concert for her birthday celebrations when she would rather have had a ball. 'Not like music,' the King had said. 'Well, Papa,' she had replied boldly, 'I do not think I have an ear for it.' 'No ear for it! What's that mean, eh? what? You'll have to grow ears for it. Music is something you have to learn to like.' And the Queen: 'His Majesty is quite right, Princess Royal. He expects every member in the family to love music'

How wonderful to be married! As soon as they find a bridegroom for me, she thought, I will start making my wedding dress. I will put every stitch into it myself and all the time I sew I shall be telling myself: I shall soon be free.

She looked at her sister Augusta, who talked too much when their parents were not present and was impatient with the ceremonies of dressing; she allowed her women to dress her exactly as they wished and indeed were it not for them would look a positive scarecrow. As for Elizabeth she did not feel so irked by their restricted lives as the others; she could shut her-

self away in her room and write poetry. Mary and Sophia were too young to know very much about what they were missing.

The King was talking about the concerts in the Abbey which had been such a success and the box he had had set up there for himself and the Queen and another for the rest of the family. He mentioned Mr. Bates who had played the organ so admirably; and he personally had made arrangements that those who attended the concert should be able to see the organist.

He is so interested in little things, thought the Princess. No wonder everyone says he's an old bore.

'I've been speaking to Dr. Burney about the new arrangement of the Messiah. Dr. Burney is a most excellent man ...'

How many times had she heard of the excellencies of Dr. Burney? How many times had she heard the arrangements for the concerts discussed? And Handel's name was constantly on his lips.

Well, I am eighteen, thought Charlotte, so surely they will find a husband for me soon. Six girls for whom to find husbands. It's quite a number.

'I should like to take a walk,' said the King to the Queen, which, thought the Princess, meant that they were going to discuss the latest pranks of George, for clearly the King wished to speak to the Queen alone and as he never discussed State matters with her—considering women unable to understand such weighty problems—quite obviously they were going to discuss that most fascinating of topics: the sins of George.

Oh, why could she not be there! Had he really gone through a mock marriage with The Widow? How exciting! And how typical of George! He was promising to give them as much fun over The Widow as he had over the actress Perdita.

'Princess Royal,' said the Queen, tapping her fingers on the table, 'my snuff box.'

Princess Charlotte rose hastily; she had forgotten this most important duty: to see that Mamma's snuff box was filled and ready for use. The King looked pained; the Queen continued to tap her fingers.

Really, thought the Princess, they care more about silly details like filling a snuff box than the loss of the Colonies.

Thvv were now ready to go out.

The Princesses stood in a row, dropping curtsies, all remembering that they must not forget their dignity and behave as it was called in the household en princesse, which meant that one must never forget that one was a King's daughter and curtsey to some and uphold one's dignity with others.

Lucky George, to have escaped this constant parental surveillance.

In the gardens the King walked with the Queen and for some few minutes discussed the flowers, the paths, the planting of shrubs and trees; then he came to the subject uppermost in his mind.

'You have heard no doubt of the latest scandals created by our eldest son.'

'I have,' answered the Queen. 'It is impossible not to hear. Everyone speaks of it. Schwellenburg tells me that they are singing a song about him.'