'However this may be, an accommodation took place between Mrs. Fitzherbert and the Prince, though she, ever afterwards, resolutely refused to speak to Mr. Fox. She was, however, obliged to see him sometimes, and was much urged by the Prince to a reconciliation; but, though of a forgiving disposition upon other occasions, and even benefiting some who most betrayed her confidence, she was inflexible on this point, as it was one of the only means left her to protect her reputation. She thought she had been ill-used, in a most unjustifiable manner, by this public declaration before the House of Commons; especially as she had been waited upon by Mr. Sheridan, who had informed her, that some explanation would, probably, be required by Parliament, on the subject of her connection with the Heir apparent. She then told him, that they knew she was like a dog with a log round its neck, and they must protect her. She went so far with respect to Mr. Fox, that when, afterwards, during his administration, he made overtures to her, in order to recover her good will, she refused, though the attainment of the rank of Duchess was to be the fruit of their reconciliation. On naming this circumstance to me, she observed that she did not wish to be another Duchess of Kendal.'[50]
Gillray published a satirical print on May 21, 1787, entitled 'Dido Forsaken. _Sic transit gloria Reginæ._' Mrs. Fitzherbert, crucifix in hand, is seated on a heap of ruins, in utter despair, whilst a breeze, blown by Pitt and Dundas, carries away her crown, orb, sceptre, and coronet, as Princess of Wales. In a boat named _Honor_, bound for Windsor, sail away the Prince, Fox (who steers), Lord North, and Burke. The Prince says, 'I never saw her in my life.' Fox clinches this with, 'No, never in his life, Damme.' North and Burke asseverate 'No, never.' On the ground lie fetters, an axe, rods, and a harrow, 'for the conversion of heretics,' being a delicate allusion to Mrs. Fitzherbert being a Roman Catholic.
However, the difference between the couple was made up, and they were in Brighton together early in July. The Prince evidently used some of his newly-got money on his seaside residence, for we read in the _Morning Herald_ for July 3, 1787: 'Last Tuesday morning (26 June) as the painters were beautifying the great dome of the Prince of Wales's house at Brighthelmstone, the scaffolding broke down, whereby several of the workmen were killed, and others terribly wounded. His Royal Highness has caused enquiry to be made into the condition of their families, in order to give them relief.'