"Why, Madam, the people of Cheltenham would consider themselves most honoured. Though I should warn Your Majesty of the smallness of the place."

"It is such a place I am sure which would most appeal to the King." She hesitated. "Lord Fauconberg, perhaps you would speak to His Majesty. Make this offer to him. I think he might accept it."

Lord Fauconberg replied that he would obey Her Majesty's instruction and gave no sign that he knew it was because the suggestion was more likely to be acceptable if it came through him than through the Queen. But Charlotte knew that he was aware of this and resentment flaring up in her, she felt a sudden anger against the King. Why should she have been constantly thrust aside? Why should her opinion always have been considered of no importance? How unfairly she had been treated since her arrival in England. She felt a w r ave of dislike for the man who had consistently shown her that he considered her advice worthless.

Why then did she live in this constant fear of a dreadful disability overtaking him?

It is not love, she thought calmly. Oh, no, not love.

When the Royal party set out for Cheltenham Miss Burney and Colonel Digby were in attendance.

The King was pleased with the place which w r as small and offered a peaceful existence. He was delighted to discover that there was a small theatre and declared he would visit this and perhaps hear some concerts.

The Queen, carefully watching him, believed that his health had improved a little. The quiet of Cheltenham was restoring his calm. Each morning he went to the Pump Room to drink the waters and later for walks in the company of the Queen and a few attendants; he was amused because the town was so small and that the same plump middle-aged woman known as Nanny the Bellman was postmistress, town-crier and tax-collector. He was amused too to learn that there were no carriages of any sort in the town and that the people had to rely on two very ancient Sedan chairs. It was a peaceful existence and by eleven o'clock at night the King liked everyone to be in bed.

Thus was life in Cheltenham; and there was no doubt in the Queen's mind that it agreed with the King.

But the respite was temporary. The King would come to the Queen and talk excitedly, his words spilling over each other as though they could not wait to get out; his eyes would bulge and his speech grow more and more rapid; and he would talk until his voice grew hoarse. The rash had broken out again; and the Queen grew more and more fearful with every day. This was the realization of the fears which had haunted her for so long.

She strove to keep the King's condition from those about him. Gossip would be unendurable; and she pictured the distortions of the newspapers. But it was impossible to keep the King's condition from his attendants; he embarrassed them; they did not know how to act when faced with one of his tirades.

One day Colonel Digby excused himself from attendance on the King. He was, he said, confined to his rooms with gout.

The King strode off without him for his "exercise'. The Queen heard him talking to Colonel Goldsworthy, for the apartments were so close to each other in Ray's Hill Lodge that it was like living in a small house.

"Fresh air, Goldsworthy. Must have it, eh, what? Get fat without it. Tendency in the family. Plenty of exercise and attention to diet. I've always watched it. All the children ... Cut out drink, Goldsworthy. No good to you, eh, what? Healthy life in the country. Peace ... Not often a king can enjoy that. Matters of State ... ministers ... his family ... Children become an anxiety, Goldsworthy. They run up debts, get involved with women ..."

The Queen put her fingers into her ears. I cant bear it, she thought. It will be useless to try and hide it much longer.

Colonel Digby scratched lightly on Miss Burney's door.

"Is there any hope of a dish of tea, Miss Burney?"

Fanny smiled a little coquettishly. There was no doubt in her mind that Colonel Digby was courting her. She thought of writing to Susan about the situation. Susan would be so amused and interested.

"Colonel Digby! And I heard you were laid low with the gout."

"Say rather a surfeit of His Majesty's conversation."

Fanny raised her eyebrows. "I must say the King can be most ... alarming. I confess I am at a complete loss for words when he speaks to me."

"That need not worry you, Miss Burney. He has enough and to spare."

"Yes but..." Fanny sighed. She was fond of the Queen and she did sense her anxiety. "His Majesty is a little strange."

The Colonel looked solemn and remarked that no doubt the King was contemplating the inevitable misery of mankind, which made Fanny laugh, while she disputed the fact that mankind was inevitably miserable.

The conversation grew animated when Miss Planta looked in and expressed some surprise to see Colonel Digby there alone with Fanny.

"Oh, do come in, Miss Planta. We are having such an interesting discussion."

Miss Planta joined them for a while and then excused herself rather pointedly and the discussion continued between Fanny and the Colonel until Madam von Schwellenburg bustled in and throwing up her hands in horror cried: "Wot this? Tea drinking again. Giv me von dish, Miss Berners. Ach ... not goot ... not goot."

And she sat there with baleful expression until the Colonel took his leave.

She often said that Fanny must come with her to feed, the toads—a task Fanny loathed. Horrid creatures, and their mistress was only one degree less ugly!

"Ladies come to serve Queen," Schwellenburg audibly remarked to her pet toad, "not to flirt wiz chentlemens."

But Fanny was still thinking of the pleasant hour with Colonel Digby and as soon as the opportunity arose wrote to Susan:

There is something singular in the perfect trust he seems to have in my discretion, for he speaks to me when we are alone with a frankness unequalled; and there is something very flattering in the apparent relief he seems to find in dedicating what time he has to dispose of to me in my little parlour."

The Queen looked at her maid of honour.

"Colonel Digby took tea with you yesterday, Miss Burney."

"Yes, Your Majesty, that was so."

"But pray how did it happen? I understood he was confined to his room with the gout."

"He grew better, Madam, and hoped by a little exercise to prevent a serious fit."

So, thought the Queen, they were avoiding him. They found his conduct embarrassing. They risked royal displeasure rather than face those long diatribes. How can I blame them?

She could not attend to the reading. She realized that she had been sitting with her needle poised in her hand for some minutes.

They must not notice that she was acting oddly too.

It will be almost a relief, she thought, when it is known.

The King came out of the house laughing to himself. It was a pleasure not to be surrounded by equerries and attendants. Out into the lanes. The land looked good.

"How pleasant to be a farmer," he said to himself. "Growing the crops, making the butter. Should have enjoyed it. Nothing like fresh country air. Fresh air. Good for everybody. Fresh air ... simple food ... no drink ... no fat ... have to be careful. Tendency in the family."

He had forgotten that it was impossible for the King to wander out and be unrecognized. He had come to a few houses round a village green and some children playing there had seen him and hastened to carry the news that the King had come. In a short time he was being followed by a group of villagers and seeing them, he turned and greeted them.

"Pleasant, eh? Pretty country. Nothing like the country. Good clean country air. Not like London? Give me the country. Healthy, eh, what?"

The villagers did not know what to do; they looked at each other and giggled and the King went on talking about farms and the country and the peace of the quiet life—but so rapidly that they could scarcely hear what he was saying.

He came to a bridge.

"Hey," he cried. "What's this, eh? A bridge, eh, what?"

A man who was standing close to the King received the full glare of those protuberant eyes.

"If it please, Your Majesty," he said, "it is a bridge."

A bridge, eh, my boys? Then let us give it a huzza, eh, what?"

At which he took off his hat, waved it in the air and gave three lusty cheers.

It was while he was doing this that Colonels Digby and Goldsworthy found him and discreetly managed to conduct him back to the house.

The villagers looked after him, murmuring to each other that the ways of royalty were very strange.

Colonel Digby mentioned the King's odd behaviour to the Queen who listened intently.

His Majesty," she said, "has always been interested in the country."

And she thought: It can't be long now. He is very close to complete breakdown.

It was the very next morning when the King awoke in the early hours and chuckling with pleasure rose and went to the Colonels' quarters.

He banged on their doors and ran up and down the stairs shouting "Tallyho!" and waking everyone in the near vicinity.

Once again Colonel Digby dealt with the situation and courteously conducted His Majesty back to his room.

Miss Burney was reading to the Queen. It was not a verv affecting passage, but suddenly the tears began to fall down the Queen's cheeks.

Fanny stopped reading in dismay and the Queen vainly sought to repose her features. It was not possible. The tears flowed over, and the Queen put her hand to her face and wept.

It was over in a few minutes.

"How nervous I am," she said. "I am ... quite a fool, don't you think so?"

"No, Madam," replied Fanny quietly.

The Queen smiled at her gratefully, for she knew in that moment that Miss Burney understood the reason for her emotion.

"I think," said the Queen, "that we have had enough of Cheltenham. I will speak to the King."

"Yes, Madam," replied Fanny; and she went on talking which was not quite correct in the presence of the Queen but on this occasion Fanny believed it was what Her Majesty desired. "Cheltenham, Madam, is now on the map because of Your Majesty's visit. The Morning Post says that all the fashions are completely Cheltenhamized throughout Great Britain."

The Queen nodded. "The people of Cheltenham will be very pleased."

"Cheltenham will now rival Brighton," said the irrepressible Fanny.

Brighton was synonymous in the Queen's mind with trouble. Trouble, thought the Queen. Trouble all around.

"Yes," she said aloud, "it is indeed time we left Cheltenham."

Back at St. James's the King's strange behaviour continued.

His ministers noticed it; there were whispers about it. It was not long before it was mentioned in the papers.

The Queen asked to see all the papers and Miss Burney took them to her and anxiously watched her peruse them.

With one comment she was extremely angry. Miss Burney did not dare ask what it was, but the Queen said: "They should be sued for this. I shall not allow it to pass."

Fanny listened quietly, thinking that since her arrival at Court Her Majesty had changed. She was not so aloof from affairs, nor so resigned.

The Queen shrugged her shoulders suddenly.

"Light the candle, Miss Burney," she said.

Fanny obeyed and the Queen held the paper in the flame.

The King's conduct became stranger and stranger. At Kew he went out riding in the rain and came back so wet that when his boots were taken off water poured out of them. This gave him a chill and brought the rash out again. He liked to go out alone and would pace up and down talking to himself and beating time to music which no one else could hear.

One day out riding with the Queen he called for the carriage to stop that he might seize one of the lower branches of an oak and shake it as though it were a hand. When the postilion approached him he ordered him away because, he said, he was conversing with the King of Prussia.

When about to drive with the Princess Royal he got into the chaise and then got out again to give orders to the postilions; once more he got in and out again and continued to do this, all the time talking so rapidly that his voice was growing more and more hoarse and finally the Princess Royal burst into tears, alighted and ran back to her apartments.

This conduct could not be ignored.