"I am no Pitt, Augusta," he said.

"That man!" she said. "He deserted us.”

Bute smiled and taking her hand kissed it.

"So loyal. I don't deserve you, Augusta. Let us face the truth. I have failed.”

"What nonsense! You don't know the meaning of failure.”

"If you had been with me in the carriage this afternoon; if you had heard the shouts of the mob ...

seen their menacing faces...”

She shuddered. "Please don't talk of it.”

"It exists, Augusta, my love. You see, I thought I could be a great politician. The fact is, I can't. I haven't the genius for it ... like Pitt and Fox. Men like that... they start up out of the crowd and they make the rest of us look like dwarfs in comparison.”

"My dear, you are overwrought. If I could do what I wished to that senseless mob ...”

"They are not entirely senseless. They are aware of greatness. You have heard them cheer Pitt.”

"Don't talk of that man. But for him ...”

"My dearest, he is a great politician. Let us face it. The country needs him at the head of affairs.

While I am there I am bringing discredit to the King. Do you know that since I have been in office his popularity has waned considerably? And always they talk of us.”


"Oh, my dear, what do you propose to do about it?”

"Resign. Advise the King to call back Pitt and try to make some arrangement with him.”

Augusta put her face against his coat. It was not what they had planned. She and he had believed they would rule the country together; they would guide the King. But it had all gone wrong somewhere. It had started when Mr. Pitt refused to be guided and showed so clearly that if he were going to take a part in leading the country he would be in sole command.

To give up their plan was defeat. And yet if she wished to keep her lover safe, if she wished their relationship to continue in a dignified way, she must take him away from the glare of publicity.

What joy it would be not to have to fret as to what was happening to him every time he was in the streets! She wanted power; but she was a woman who most of all wanted a happy domestic life.

She looked upon Bute as her husband, in fact more so than she had ever regarded Frederick. His safety came first, and the ability to go on living together as husband and wife as they had for so many years.

"Yes," she said, 'go to George and tell him that you can no longer continue.”

Bute embraced her warmly. "To be with you ... to have you care for me as you do ... that is enough for any man," he said.

George showed no great surprise nor disappointment as he listened to Lord Bute.

"My health will not stand the strain," explained Bute. "By remaining in office I can only do a disservice to Your Majesty.”

George looked at his dearest friend with lack-lustre eyes. Who would ever have thought to hear him say that! Bute, always so full of vitality; the man to whom he had turned in his youthful dilemmas. And now he was confessing to age, ill-health and inability to hold his post.

I believe you to be right," said the King.

Bute was hurt that George should take it so calmly. He had expected a show of deep regret, even pleading that he would continue in office. It was disconcerting. But George had changed lately.

He too was disillusioned.

"If Pitt would take over the leadership," began Bute.

But the King shook his head. "He dictates to me. I will not be dictated to.”

"Grenville is the man, then," went on Bute.

"Yes, I think it must be George Grenville.”

Bute took his leave and reported to the Princess Dowager that the King had taken his decision to retire very calmly. He felt that George was slipping away from them and clearly believed that he could manage very well without them.

"You don't think," said the Princess Dowager, 'that Charlotte is weaning him from us?”

"Charlotte! But she is never allowed to take part in anything.”

"No, but he goes to Richmond and it is all very cosily domestic there. She is now speaking English tolerably well and can understand what is going on around her. She is not the meek creature some believe her to be. You remember that letter she wrote to Frederick of Prussia. Do you think a girl who could write such a letter would be content to remain in the background?”

"No, I do not. I think there is much in what you say.”

"And he goes to her whenever possible. He seems to have an affection for her. These babies of hers ... they make a bond between them. She is not yet pregnant again or if she is I have not heard of it, but she had these two boys in a very short time, and the King is delighted with her. Oh, she's plain enough but George was always amenable. Yes, I think Charlotte might well be influencing him.”

"He has always said that he would never be influenced by women.”

"Poor George," smiled Augusta. "He does not always understand himself.”

The Princess Dowager called on the Queen at Richmond. Charlotte was looking well and told the Princess that she found life at Richmond to her taste, and it was very pleasant when the King could spare time from his duties to stay with his family.

The Princess studied her daughter-in-law carefully. No further signs of pregnancy. A pity! That would keep Charlotte occupied. She was conducted to the nurseries where she was delighted with the children. Little George was bright-eyed and his mother assured her, very intelligent. He was over a year old now and really taking notice. His nurses said that they had never known such a bright child. The Princess Dowager sat nodding like an old mandarin. Mother's talk, she thought.

"And the baby?”

"Oh, little Fred is adorable.”

"I wonder if he will be like his grandfather," smiled Augusta, softened by the charm of the children. "Oh, but he is just like his dear papa. Does George think so?”

"George thinks he takes a little after me," admitted Charlotte.

God help him! thought the Princess. No, he has his father's big eyes and chin. How could George see that crocodile mouth in such an enchanting little creature. Like Charlotte indeed. If George thought that he must be growing very fond and foolish. That brought her to the matter uppermost in her mind and which had urged her to take the journey out to Richmond. Was Charlotte beginning to influence George so that he no longer felt so affectionate towards his mother and Lord Bute? It was very likely.

"Dear George, the Government is so tiresome.”

"Oh, yes. He was most upset over that horrible Mr. Wilkes.”

He is talking to her, thought the Princess.

"These dreadful people who will not let us live in peace.”

"And Mr. Grenville tries the King sorely," went on Charlotte. "George says that when Mr.

Grenville has wearied him for two hours, he looks at his watch to see if he cannot tire him for one hour more.”

Charlotte laughed, but was sober almost immediately.

"But the Government is most trying. The King would be happier if Mr. Pitt would come back, but of course, Mr. Pitt never does anything except on his own terms.”

"So the King discusses these matters with you?”

Charlotte put her head on one side. It would not be truthful to say that was so, but it was very tempting to do so. The King answered her very briefly if she attempted to discuss politics. She learned most of the news from her women. Yet she hated to admit this to the Princess.

"These affairs are of the utmost importance," said Charlotte evasively.

So this is the answer, thought the Princess. We are being relegated to a back seat while he confides in this silly young girl who knows nothing of state affairs in this country whatsoever. She is advising the King while he turns away from his own mother and ... her dearest friend and his.

Charlotte had too high an opinion of herself. She did not know how reluctant George had been to marry her. She did not know how he had hankered after Sarah Bunbury Lennox that was. She thought that when she had come over here George had taken one look at her and fallen in love with her. No wonder the silly little creature gave herself airs. The Princess Dowager would not allow that.

"I am glad that you are happy with George, my dear," she said quietly but in a deadly voice.

"We were a little anxious ... just at first. I daresay you have heard about his obsession with Sarah Lennox. There is bound to be little-tattle.”

"Sarah Lennox ..." echoed Charlotte, wrinkling her brow.

"Married Charles Bunbury about the time of the King's illness. A pretty, empty-headed creature.”

Charlotte remembered her at the wedding. The bridesmaid who was the most beautiful girl she had ever seen. And George had looked at her ... longingly. She felt suddenly sad.

"He wanted to marry her. It was quite impossible of course. Then he saw sense and ... he behaved as he knew a king should. And how right it was. Here you are with two beautiful babies. They couldn't be more beautiful, I am sure.”

Charlotte sat still thinking of it. The wedding; the sacrifice he had had to make. Yet he had never mentioned it; he had never been unfaithful to her, she was sure. Poor George, to have been robbed of his dreams as Christina had been of hers. She often thought of Christina. Only Christina had no one; George had been presented with Charlotte; and he had married because it was his duty to marry; and they had two beautiful children. Sarah Lennox could not have produced more beautiful children. That was what the Princess was telling her.

She heard herself say: "It is sad for royal people that their wives and husbands should be chosen for them.”