Caroline was pleased that they were at Hampton. She was once more pregnant and this time was determined to take more care of herself. She longed for a son; and the very root of her resentment against the King was the fact that he would not allow Fritzchen to come to England.

The Whig Ministry had been reformed with Stanhope and Sunderland at its head. Sunderland however, had become a great favourite of the King's for two reasons. One was his intense dislike of the Prince of Wales; and the other that he had become fast friends with the Duchess of Kendal, whose long association with the King had made her as a wife to him, and also with Bernstorff who was the King's chief adviser. Even Stanhope, brilliant master of foreign affairs that he was—and the King appreciated his worth—could not compete with that. As for Townsend, although he had lost his office, he was, with Walpole, still of some importance; yet, to the chagrin of Caroline and the Prince, since the return of the King, the friendship towards them and these two men had waned considerably. They seemed as though instead of being the support they had promised to be, they merely wanted to remain on good terms, ready for the day when the Prince would be in power.

Still, there were Whigs who were very dissatisfied with the reigning ministry and these formed the nucleus of the Prince's party.

There was one man whom the Prince and Caroline disliked and distrusted more than any other and that was the Duke of

Newcastle. The Duke had shown his contempt for the Prince and stood firmly against him. That was something George Augustus and Caroline found hard to forgive.

But there was fortunately no obligation to see much of the man. In fact, because of her pregnancy, and moreover because of the last confinement which had ended so disastrously, Caroline made every excuse to live quietly in her own apartments.

This she did, and it was pleasant to have her little girls with her. They had become devoted to her now that they could be so much together, but she was rather alarmed to notice that Anne was aware of certain follies in her father. She had seen the child watching him when he betrayed his vanity, or quick temper, or some lack of perception. If Anne became critical of her father she would have to correct that. She shuddered to think of having her children in conflict with their parents. Anne was old enough to know of course, of the strife between her father and grandfather. On no account must that be repeated.

So with the family together and the excitement of intrigues with those politicians who, even though the King had returned, remained faithful to the Prince, life was far from tedious. Although at times when Caroline was made aware of the choleric temper of her husband and the soured vindictive-ness of his father she did feel as though she were sitting on gunpowder.

There was storm in the sultry air all that summer when everyone was comparing it with that of the previous year.

And in October Caroline and the Prince returned to St. James's to be ready for Caroline's lying-in.

Exactly a year after the disaster when she had lost her child and almost her own life through her prudery in not allowing Sir David Hamilton to attend her, Caroline gave birth to a son.

She was delighted, but not more so than the Prince. He came to her, his face pink with emotion as he knelt by her bed and kissed her hands.

"My tear, my tear, this the happiest day ... Now you vill not miss little Fritzchen so much, eh?"

"Wunderbar . .. ivunderbar!" whispered Caroline.

"And vere is this little fellow?"

He was brought and placed in the Prince's arms.

Caroline watched her husband awkwardly nursing the child.

"He is goot ... he seems goot. Vere are my daughters. Send my daughters here. They must their bruder meet."

Caroline lay back on her pillows watching them; the three little girls; her husband and the new child.

"There! Is he not von fine little fellow?" The Prince was strutting round the apartment. "See how happy he is to be in his father's arms."

Anne was watching a trifle scornfully.

Amelia said: "Is it not Mamma's baby too?"

"Ha! " laughed the Prince. "It is Mamma's baby too."

"Perhaps," said Anne coolly, "she would like to hold it now."

"Ha! ha! " laughed her father. Caroline held her breath. He did not see the criticism. He would not have thought it possible that his daughters could be critical of him.

It must not grow, thought Caroline.

"Your father is very happy now," she said. "He was anxious for me and now it is goot that all is veil."

Little Caroline was standing by the bed, clinging to her mother's hand, fearful that the coming of the new child might lose her her mother's attention, wondering what it would be like now that she was no longer the baby.

The Prince had laid the child in her arms and the little girls came round her to look closely at him.

"Do you think he is like his Papa, eh?" demanded the Prince.

"No," replied Anne. "I think he is more like Mamma. I like him."

The Prince rocked on his heels, well pleased with his happy family.

When the little girls had gone he said: "I'll swear my father is envious of us."

"This quarrel does little good," replied Caroline. "Ve should try to mend it ... if only outwardly."

gio Queen in Waiting

**Oh, he is von old scoundrel."

"I know, but he is the King; and he can make things very unpleasant for you."

"Let him try."

Caroline sighed. Then she said: *'I should like to call the child Lewis."

"Lewis..." repeated the Prince. "Oh but it's his name."

"Perhaps you vould agree that he might be pleased to have the child named after him."

"Vy should ve please him?"

"Because after all he is the King. Ve lose by this quarrel."

The Prince was thoughtful. "And you vish, my love, that this should be the boy's name?"

"Yes. I vish it."

"Then it shall be Lewis."

"And I should like your sister to be sponsor."

"My sister! You think she would come from Prussia?"

Caroline thought of Sophia Dorothea from whom she heard now and then, living her stormy life with Frederick William who was now King of Prussia. They quarrelled violently and incessantly but there was a bond between them which, in spite of this, held them together. It would be a great joy to see her sister-in-law again and recall those days at Hanover.

"But perhaps she vould send a proxy."

The Prince nodded. It seemed fitting that his sister should be sponsor to his child; he had always been fond of her since those days when they had lost their mother and gradually became aware of the tragic circumstances of her disappearance.

"Ve should ask her," he said.

"And beside her perhaps your uncle the Duke of Osnabriick and York."

"Vat I He whom my father threatened to make Regent ven he vent avay!"

"It vould please your father."

"I do not vish to please that old scoundrel."

"Outwardly..." she said with a smile.

The Prince began to smile and his eyes lit up with mischief.

"Yes," he said, "this is not a bad idea. Ve vill please him in this..."

"Show the people that ve do our best to end the family quarrels."

"A goot idea," replied the Prince, every moment becoming certain that he had thought of it.