sider the circumstances in which you stand; the King not feeling for you as a father ought, the Duke of York professedly his favourite, and likely to be married agreeably to the King's wishes; the nation full of its old prejudices against Catholics, and justly dreading all disputes about the succession. In these circumstances your enemies might take such advantage as I shudder to think of; and though your generosity might think no sacrifice too great to make to a person whom you love so entirely, consider what her reflections must be in such an event, and how impossible it would be for her ever to forgive herself.

'I have stated this danger on the supposition that the marriage should be a real one, but Your Royal Highness knows as well as I that according to the present laws of this country it cannot; and I need not point out to your good sense what uneasiness it must be to you, to her, and above all to the nation, to have it a matter of dispute and discussion, whether the Prince of Wales is, or is not, married. All speculations on the feeling of the public are certain; but I doubt much whether an uncertainty of this kind, by keeping man's mind in perpetual agitation upon a matter of this moment, might not cause a greater ferment than any other possible situation. If there should be children from the marriage, I need not say how much the uneasiness (as well of yourselves as of the nation) must be aggravated. If anything should add to the weight of these considerations it is the impossibility of remedying the mischiefs I have alluded to; for if Your Royal Highness should think proper, when you are twenty-five years old, to notify to Parliament your intention to marry (by which means alone a legal marriage can be contracted) in what manner can it be notified? If the previous marriage is mentioned or owned will it not be said that you have set at defiance the laws of your country; and you now come to Parliament for a sanction for what you have already done in contempt of it? If there are children, will it not be said that we must look for future applications to legitimate them and consequently be liable to disputes for ,the succession between the eldest son and the eldest son after

the legal marriage? And will not the entire annulling of the whole marriage be suggested as the most secure way of preventing all such disputes? If the marriage is not mentioned to Parliament, but yet is known to have been solemnized, as it certainly will be known if it takes place, these are the consequences - First, that at all events any child born in the interim is immediately illegitimated; and next, that arguments will be drawn from the circumstances of the concealed marriage against the public one. It will be said that a woman who has Jived with you as your wife without being so, is not fit to be Queen of England; and thus the very thing that is done for her reputation will be used against it: and what would make this worse would be, the marriage being known (though not officially communicated to Parliament) it would be impossible to deny the assertion; whereas it there was no marriage, I conclude your intercourse would be carried on as it ought, in so private a way as to make it wholly inconsistent with decency or propriety for anyone in public to hazard such a suggestion. If, in consequence of your notification, steps should be taken in Parliament, and an Act passed (which considering the present state of the power of the King and Ministry is more than probable) to prevent your marriage, you will be reduced to the most difficult of all dilemmas with respect to the footing on which your marriage is to stand for the future; and your children will be born to pretensions which must make their situation unhappy, if not dangerous. Their situations appear to me of all others the most to be pitied; and the more so, because the more indications persons born in such circumstances give of spirit, talents or anything that is good, the more they will be suspected and oppressed, and the more will they regret the being deprived of what they must naturally think themselves cmitied to.

'I could mention many other considerations upon this business, if I did not think those I have stated of so much importance, that smaller ones would divert your attention from them rather than add to their weight. That I have written with a freedom which on every other occasion would

be unbecoming, I readily confess; and nothing would have induced me to do it, but a deep sense of my duty to a Prince who has honoured me with so much of his confidence, and who would have but an ill return for all his favour and goodness to me if I were to avoid speaking truth to him, however disagreeable, at such a juncture. The sum of my humble advice, nay, of my most earnest entreaty, is this— that Your Royal Highness should not think of marrying till you can marry legally. When that time comes you may judge for yourself; and no doubt you will take into consideration, both what is due to private honour and your public station. In the meanwhile, a mock marriage (for it can be no other) is neither honourable for any of the parties, nor, with respect to Your Royal Highness, even safe. This appears so clear to me that if I were Mrs. Fitzherbert's father or brother I would advise her not by any means to agree to it, and to prefer any other species of connection with you to one leading to so much misery and mischief.

'It is high time I should finish this long and perhaps Your Highness will think, ill-timed letter; but such as it is, it is dedicated by pure zeal and attachment to Your Royal Highness. With respect to Mrs. Fitzherbert, she is a person with whom I have scarcely the honour of being acquainted, but I hear from everyone that her character is irreproachable and her manners most amiable. Your Royal Highness knows too that I have not in my mind the same objections to intermarriages of Princes and subjects which many have. But under the circumstances a marriage at present appears to me to be the most desperate measure for all parties concerned that their worst enemies could have suggested.'

Fox threw down his pen and frowned at the paper. Then he called: 'Liz. Come here, Liz.'

When she came he handed the sheets to her. She opened her eyes very wide. 'So much?'

'It has to be fully explained to him.'

She sat down and read the letter. 'He won't like it,' she said.

'It can't be helped. I must put the case to him. There'll be disaster if he marries this woman.'

'He won't thank you for being the prophet on this occasion.'

Fox shrugged his shoulders. Lizzie remembered that he had always been a man of integrity where politics were concerned. It was no doubt the reason for his feud with the King.

This could mean, thought Lizzie shrewdly, the end of friendship with the Prince of Wales. Charles was right, of course; but he was advocating a course of action which was completely contrary to the Prince's desires; and although the future would doubtless prove Charles right, the Prince would not thank him any more for that.

No need to point this out to Charles who knew it already.

As a politician and a friend Charles was doing his duty.

She watched him seal the letter and send for the messenger.

When the Prince received the letter he took it to his bedchamber so that he might be quite alone to read it.

So Charles had ranged himself with those who would disapprove of the marriage. What depressing reading! The more so because in his heart the Prince realized the wisdom of Charles's comments.

Charles was a rake. He could not understand a woman like Maria; he did not in his heart believe that the only way she would live with the Prince was if a marriage was performed. There must be a marriage. Without that he would lose her. He wanted to shout at Charles: Do you think I don't know all that you say has some truth in it? Of course I do. But it's no good. There must be a marriage ceremony and I am going to see that there is one. I have promised Maria. She has come back to England for this purpose. The next step is a marriage ceremony—and it is inevitable.