He told him “that he had heard it mentioned among some lawyers” that Richmond Gardens--the Queen’s private estate--would go to the Prince of Wales if his mother died. So furious did the King become at this suggestion, that he was not satisfied until the Lord Chancellor had been fetched off the Bench to give an opinion on it, which being against the Prince, he communicated it to the Queen to comfort her. This Saturday evening an operation of a minor character was performed upon the Queen. The next day, Sunday, the 13th, was a black day; the Queen’s wound began to mortify and all hope was abandoned. This day she practically took leave of her favourite son: “As for you, William,” she said, “you know I have always loved you tenderly and placed my chief hope in you.” She bade him be a support to the King, and not go against his brother. But it was on this Sunday afternoon that the celebrated interview took place between the King and Queen, which perhaps was the most extraordinary, valedictory conversation between man and wife the world has ever heard of. The Queen had been taking leave of her family; she turned sadly to her husband and drew from her finger a fine ruby ring he had given her at her coronation, and gave it to him back again. “This is the last thing I have to give you.” she said. “Naked I came to you, naked I go from you. I had everything I ever possessed from you, and to you whatever I have I return. My will you will find a very short one; I give all I have to you.” She then very solemnly repeated to him advice which she had often given him before; that he should marry again. The King had been sobbing before; this advice brought on a passion of weeping, amidst which he made this remarkable and most characteristic response: “Non, j’aurai des maîtresses.” One would have thought that, King as he was, some one would have hushed him down, but the Queen seems to have very calmly answered: “Mon Dieu! cela n’empêche pas.” What can one say of a man and wife who talked thus over a death bed? The Queen was thought to be dying that day, but she lingered on. On Monday morning, Sir Robert Walpole arrived post haste from Houghton; he had only heard of the Queen’s illness on the previous day owing to the Duke of Newcastle’s neglect in sending the messenger round to the Duke of Grafton first. All Sir Robert’s enemies seemed to have concluded that his power would wane, when the Queen, his patroness and friend, was dead; they did their best to keep him from her at the last. But he arrived long before the Queen died, and one of his first remarks on the situation to Lord Hervey was the following: “Oh, my Lord!” cried Sir Robert, greatly distressed, “if this woman should die what a scene of confusion will here be! Who can tell into what hands the King will fall? or who will have the management of him? I defy the ablest person in this kingdom to foresee what will be the consequence of this great event.”