The next morning the Degree was conferred in the theatre, Doctor of Common Law—“an appropriate one”, the Master of Balliol remarked, “though 'Surgeon' would perhaps be the mot juste”; and thus at last Hogarth donned cap-and-tassel, though not Frankl's—a livery which drew from Harris the reflection: “Sweet beauty!—in his mortarboard”. The nip upon the brow of the college-cap peak resembled the nip of the Scotch prison-cap, awaking memories: but the symbolism was different.
Meantime, the Regent's eye wandered, madness and folly in his heart, and fear, till at four a letter came, he having left Loveday at Buckingham Palace with instructions to open letters and send the One.
She had written:
“What you can expect of me I am unable to conceive. Have you not expelled me? Let us be worthy of our long friendship, and 'play the man'....'My exaltation to afflictions high'....With prayers for you, I say good-bye: and will remember.
“REBEKAH FRANKL”.
Loveday had added: “She left London at noon for Southampton. Purchas followed to spy. Machray's other detective waits in Palace for instructions”.
As to the dinner in Christ Church Hall, and the Ball, which were to end the program of this last day, at four-thirty the news spread that the Regent had been taken ill.
“Have you not expelled me?”...Was she angry? Did she not know that he meant well? Hogarth, breaking into a rage, leapt up, with, “I swear to God that not one step does she move out of this country—!” and rushed to a bell: a gentleman-usher came.
“What about going?”
“All will be ready in fifteen minutes, my Lord King”.