Diary.—‘The Prince and Princess dined every day in public in Her Royal Highness’s apartments. The Lady-in-Waiting served at table, but my ill-health prevented me doing that service. In the afternoon my Royal mistress saw company, and read or writ till evening, when she walked in the garden for two or three hours together, and would go to the pavilion at the end of the bowling-green (which runs parallel with the river) to play there, but after the Countess of Buckenburgh fell and put her foot out, the Princess went there no more, but played in the green gallery. The Duchess of Monmouth was often with us, and the Princess loved her mightily, and, certainly, no woman of her years ever deserved it so well. She had all the fire and life of youth, and it was marvellous to see that the many afflictions she had suffered had not touched her wit and good-nature, but at upwards of threescore she had both in their full perfection.’ We cannot resist inserting this generous testimony to one who was distinguished by Royal favour at a time when petty jealousies and intense rivalry were at their height. Their Royal Highnesses left Hampton Court with part of their retinue by water, and as they glided along in a Royal barge, Lady Cowper thought ‘nothing in the world could be pleasanter than the passage, or give one a better idea of the richness and happiness of the kingdom.’ A break now occurs in the Diary, which began 1714, and which we have followed up to October 1716. That portion which concerned the next four years is not forthcoming, and the editor gives us a clue to the reason. In a memorandum by the Chancellor’s daughter, Lady Sarah, she copies a letter written to the postmaster at Hertford: ‘It is reported that at the time of the trial of the Bishop of Rochester Lord Cowper offered to be bail for him, which was so resented by a certain person of distinction that he moved for a warrant to search his Lordship’s house. News of this was sent to Lady Cowper, and though the report was to be despised, yet my mother had so many hints and intimations sent her by different people of a design to attack my father and try to involve his character in the examination then on foot, relating to Layer’s plot, that she took fright for some papers she had drawn up by way of diary, also some letters belonging to the Prince and Princess, which she had in her hands, relating to the quarrel in the Royal Family, that, not being able to place them in safety, in a hurry she burned such as she thought likely to do most harm.’ This is a reasonable explanation of the disappearance of the records of 1717, 1718,and 1719. In 1718 Lord Cowper resigned office, to the great regret of all well-thinking persons of whatever party, the details of which will be found in the Chancellor’s life. The feuds in the Royal Family had augmented in frequency and violence during these four years, and Lady Cowper resumes her narrative at a time when the scandal of these quarrels was so great as to render a reconciliation imperative on public grounds. Lord Cowper himself had lost much of the King’s favour by his adherence to the Prince, and the fair Lady-in-Waiting herself had to undergo many cold looks, and, what must have been more trying to such a steadfast nature as hers, the caprice and wayward moods of the mistress she still loved and served most loyally. New influences were at work, and new favourites on the scene. As to the reconciliation, though made a subject of public rejoicing, it was hollow enough. The King lost few opportunities of slighting his son and daughter-in-law, and he plagued her much, particularly on the vexed question of the custody of her children, who had been removed from her care. But we are anticipating. The Diary re-opens with a visit from Mr. Secretary Walpole (afterwards Sir Robert) to the Princess of Wales, with offers of reconciliation from the King, April 9, 1720. The Princess referred him to Lord Cowper, who lost no time in hastening to the Royal presence to discuss the matter.