_Friday, Aug. 4_--This was an extremely arduous morning to the poor
queen. The king again went to town; and her anxiety in his absence, and
fear how it might end, oppressed her most painfully. She could not take
her usual airing. She shut herself up with the Princess Augusta; but,
to avoid any rumours of her uneasiness, the carriage and usual horsemen
were all at the door at the customary time; and the princess royal,
attended by the Duchess of Ancaster, went out, and passed, driving quick
through the town, for the queen herself, to most of the people.
At her toilette, before dinner, Lady Effingham was admitted. The queen
had her newspapers as usual, and she read aloud, while her hair was
dressing, several interesting articles concerning the attack, the noble
humanity of the king, his presence of mind, and the blessing to the
whole nation arising from his preservation. The spirit of loyalty,
warmth, and zeal with which all the newspapers are just now filled
seemed extremely gratifying to her; she dwelt upon several of the
strongest expressions with marked approbation, exclaiming from time
to time, as she read particular praises of his majesty's worth and
importance, “That is true!--That is true, indeed!” But suddenly,
afterwards, coming upon a paragraph beginning with the words of the
coronation anthem, “Long live the king! May the king live for ever!” her
tears flowed so fast that they blinded her, and to hear her read such
words was so extremely affecting, that I was obliged to steal behind her
chair to hide myself; while Lady Effingham took out her handkerchief,
and cried in good earnest. I believe her to be warmly and gratefully
attached both to the king and queen and she has received from the
queen very uncommon assistance, I am informed, in some very distressful
situations.
The queen, however, read on; dispersing her tears as she could, and
always smiling through them when the praise, not the danger, drew them
forth.
Nothing could be more gracious than her manner to me the whole time--she
did not, as usual, dismiss me, either for her hair-dressing, or for Lady
Effingham; she was sure I must be interested in what was going forward,
and she looked at us alternately, for our comments, as she went on.
I rejoiced she had not set me to read these papers. I expected, for the
first week, every summons would have ended in a command to read to her.
But it never happened, and I was saved an exertion for which I am sure I
should have had no voice.