What do they hear of him? wondered Caroline. I must have them back. This is the time when we should all be living a happy family life.

She told Walpole: "I must have the children back. I know this stupid quarrel is no good to us ... no good to the family. But give me my children back and I shall accept anything the King likes to impose on us."

"Madam, would you approach the Prince? Will you discover whether he would be willing to write a conciliatory note to His Majesty? If he would do this ... we might begin negotiations."

"I vill talk to the Prince," promised Caroline.

It was not easy.

"A letter to that old rascal! This I vill not do. It is that von who should send me a letter."

"It is the only vay. If ve are to have the children . . ,"

"He is von scoundrel. To take our children..."

"And ve must get them back. It is a matter on vich ve agree. If he vill give them back to us..."

"Yes, he must give them back. But he must pay my debts too and all my servants I vill vant And to be kept from the royal palaces ... that is von scandal."

"But to have our children back ... living under the same roof ... that is the first thing. Ve agree on that."

"That ve must have," said the Prince.

The King said: "It is not for him to make conditions. He has behaved atrociously. He wants a reconciliation, but I am not sure that I am prepared to give it."

Walpole reminded him that the quarrel was having bad effects on foreign policy.

"The Prince is of no account," said the King. "He has no effect whatsoever."

"The stories of the quarrel are exaggerated by our enemies, sir. I think the Spanish would not have attempted to help the Stuart if they did not think we were a house divided against itself. The quarrel is ridiculed by our writers. There are lampoons and ballads distributed all over the country."

"And so my son is a buffoon to amuse the people! They like to be amused."

"They like to be amused, yes, sir. But they ridicule the royal family and this is never good. There will be trouble if a reconciliation does not occur soon."

"And you are on the side of the Prince?"

"I am on the side of the House of Hanover and my country."

George looked shrewdly at Walpole. This was a good man; he had been sorry when he had left his government. It was men such as this one that they needed.

He grudgingly admitted that he would consider the matter.

Walpole brought a letter he had drafted to Caroline.

"The Prince should copy this and send it to the King," he said. "The first move must come from him."

"And if he signs it?"

"The King will then be prepared for a reconciliation."

"And my children?"

Walpole hesitated. The Princess was obsessed by one thing. He was not at all certain that the King would relinquish the little girls but he knew that Caroline would not move until she had an assurance that he would.

Walpole was a politician and politicians sometimes had to take risks.

"Let the Prince sign this and you will have your children."

Caroline took the paper, and went away to begin the difficult task of persuading the Prince to humble his pride.

George said: No. He would not give up the little girls. It gave him pleasure to have them in the palace. They amused him. It was true he did not see a great deal of them; but they were his grandchildren and he was the King. It was fitting that he should have control of them and keep them living under his roof.

Walpole pointed out that their mother would be prepared to accept anything if they could but be returned to her.

"It is not for the Princess to make terms," said the King coldly.

Here was trouble, thought Walpole. The King was ready to return the Prince's guards to him; to allow him to live in the royal palaces and take back the honours due to the Prince of Wales. There was only one condition he would not accept and that was the return of the children.

It was difficult to face the Princess and tell her this. She would immediately tell the Prince that they must not give way, and as the Prince would as usual be made to see her point, the reconciliation would not take place; the quarrel would continue, probably more bitter than before; and Walpole would have failed. The last was inconceivable. But how get the King to relent? How get Caroline to forego her children? The King was the most obstinate and vindictive man on earth; and Caroline was a woman crying out for her children.

He would try first to persuade the King; and if that failed he did not know what he would do, but of course he would find a way.

He presented himself to Caroline.

"The King is not prepared to part with the children ... yet," he began cautiously.

Her face grew stony. "Then the quarrel goes on."

"It should not go on. If it does there will be more Jacobite risings. They might not always fail."

"I vant my children," she said stubbornly.

"It has occurred to me the Duchess of Kendal might help."

"That... woman! "

"She has a good heart. She also has a daughter of her own."

"Whom she calls her niece and whom we all know is the King's daughter."

"She would understand a mother's feelings perhaps, and might be on your side in this matter."

"Vat do you suggest?"

"That you speak to her ... explain "

"That I humble myself to the King's harlot?"

"He regards the Duchess as his wife. They have been together for nearly thirty years. She is a kind woman "

"You think it might help?" asked Caroline piteously.

"I do, Madam."

So she went to Ermengarda, Duchess of Kendal, told her how she longed for her children and asked her to imagine what it meant to be separated from three little girls whom she was only allowed to see now and then, as though she were a stranger.

The Duchess wept with her.

"It is very sad," she said.

"The King does not seem to understand."

"So many state matters occupy his mind," said the Duchess.

"If you could explain to him...."

"I! " The Duchess was alarmed.

"I know of your devotion to each other."

"But I would never presume to advise the King."

Caroline looked at her sadly and thought No, I suppose that is why you have held your place so long.

She had humbled herself unnecessarily.

Walpole was in a quandary. The King would not give up his guardianship of his granddaughters. He would grant concessions, yes; but the grandchildren should remain under his roof.

The Princess was in despair.

"It's no jesting matter to me," she told Walpole. "I shall not give in. I shall continue to complain until I have my children.'*

Yet the reconciliation must be made. He had determined on it. His own reputation depended on its success for he had sworn that he would bring it about. Moreover it was creating bad feeling abroad. Not only Walpole but England needed it.

The Prince was his hope. George Augustus had debts to the amount of about one hundred thousand pounds. He needed money badly. The Prince, Walpole believed, would be ready to give way if he received in return certain honours and money. The King would not be prepared to pay his debts but Walpole knew of a way of making money through the South Seas venture and if he could do this for the Prince, if he could bring him those concessions which his vanity craved, George Augustus would be ready to give in.

It was only Caroline who insisted on having the children.

As Walpole had predicted the Prince was delighted to have money; he wanted his beefeaters and his guards; he wanted to be treated as the Prince of Wales.

For this he would write the letter, the draft of which Walpole had sent him; and having received it the King, for he must take the advice of his ministers, would, if a little ungraciously, receive the Prince.

Therefore the matter could be concluded without the Princess.

Walpole regretted this for he respected the Princess and was eager for her goodwill; but when she insisted on having her children back under her care she was clinging to the one condition to which the King would not agree.

News came from the Palace of St. James's both for the Prince and Princess. To the Prince came a command from his father. For the first time since the quarrel he was prepared to see him. For the Princess was a letter from Lady Portland who wrote that Anne was sick and the smallpox was feared.

The Prince had reached St. James's by the time Caroline's letter was brought to her. There the King received his son with some embarrassment.

George Augustus knew that he had to be humble. Walpole had made that clear; and for the sake of the bribe and the glory of having guards again and being treated as Prince of Wales he was ready to be so.

"I have come to express my grief in causing Your Majesty displeasure," he said, "and with all my heart I thank you for giving me leave to wait upon you. It is my sincere hope that during the rest of my life I shall give Your Majesty nothing of which to complain."

The King muttered that it was his son's conduct "Your conduct..." he repeated.

Little more was said but the King made it clear that if the Prince was ready to behave in a seemly manner he would be treated as the Prince of Wales.

When he left the King—and they were only five minutes together—he went to see his children. Anne was well enough to see him and he was told that she was not as sick as had been feared.

News of the interview had crept out and people were congregating outside the palace to see the Prince emerge from the Palace. As his chair was carried through the streets it was accompanied by guards and beefeaters and although he had arrived like a private person in a Sedan chair he made the return journey like a Prince.

Cheers filled the air. Everyone was tired of the quarrel which had been so diverting in the first place.

En route he met the Princess in her chair on her way to the Palace to see Anne.

When Caroline saw his chair she called to her chairmen to halt. For a few terrible seconds she thought that he had been summoned to the Palace because Anne was worse.

She alighted; so did the Prince.

"All's veil," he cried. "The King and I are friends again."

"And Anne...."

"I have seen her. I have seen the children. They are veil ... and Anne is not so ill as they thought. All is veil now, my tear."

He embraced her to the cheers of the people.

The following day Caroline went along to St. James's to make her peace with the King and was granted an interview. Before seeing the King she went to Anne who was well enough to be overjoyed by her mother's presence.

"Good news, my darling," said Caroline. "Your father and the King are now friends and we are all to be together again."

Anne clung to her mother's hand and her expression betrayed how happy she was.

After that Caroline went to Amelia and Caroline and taking Caroline on to her lap while she held Amelia in the crook of her arm she explained to them that the trouble was over, their father and grandfather were now good friends, and as a result they would live together under one roof and as one family.

"Now," said Amelia, "we shall no longer live like charity girls."

Caroline kissed them tenderly; and went along to the King's apartments for the promised interview.

George received her coldly—but she had not expected anything else.

He told her that he was glad George Augustus had come to his senses and that he would never have had any quarrel with her if she had not supported her husband.

"I am sure Your Majesty would not have expected anything else from a good wife."

"No, but I expect a good subject to obey her King."

"So would I do in all things," she answered, "but in disobeying the wishes of my husband."

George grunted.

"Well now you can please us both, for your husband repents of his conduct and has regained his status."

"I rejoice in Your Majesty's good favour."

He grunted again.

"I have told the children," she said. "They love you but they will naturally be pleased to be back with their parents."

The King looked startled. "That matter remains as before."

Caroline was astounded. "I do not understand, Your Majesty."

He looked at her grimly. "There is to be no change," he said. "My grandchildren stay under my care."