Frightened lest he knew I had had it, I eagerly exclaimed, “O, no; I hope not.”
“And why?” cried he, good-humouredly; “what need you care? He can say no harm of you.”
I ventured then to ask if yet I had been named? He believed not yet.
This doubled my curiosity to know to whom the “learned ladies” had been mentioned, and whether to Mr. Fairly himself, or to someone who related it; I think the latter, but there is no way to inquire.
Very early in the evening I heard a rap at my door. I was in my inner room, and called out, “Who’s there?” The door opened and Mr. Fairly appeared. He had been so long in attendance this morning with our poor sick monarch, that he was too much fatigued to join the dinner-party. He had stood five hours running, besides the concomitant circumstances of attention. He had instantly laid down when he procured his dismission, and had only risen to eat some cold chicken before he came to my room. During that repast he had again been demanded, but he charged the gentleman to make his excuse, as he could go through nothing further.
I hope the king did not conclude him again with the learned; this was the most serene, and even cheerful evening, I had passed since the poor king’s first seizure.
REPORTS ON THE KING’S CONDITION.
Nov. 22.—When I went for my morning inquiries, Colonel Manners came out to me. He could give me no precise account, as the sitters-up had not yet left the king, but he feared the night had been bad. We mutually bewailed the mournful state of the house. He is a very good creature at heart, though as unformed as if he had just left Eton or Westminster. But he loves his master with a true and faithful heart, and is almost as ready to die as to live for him, if any service of that risk was proposed to him.