Mrs. Howard, however, despite her immorality--which was looked upon apparently as a fashionable weakness--was a great favourite with the other ladies of the Court. A companion of sweet Mary Bellenden and her friend Mary Lepel, both maids-of-honour. Here is a description of the celebrated Henrietta Howard by Horace Walpole who knew her intimately in her widowhood when she lived at Marble Hill, Twickenham, and he at Strawberry Hill: he says of her appearance that she was “ladylike.” She was of good height, well made, extremely fair, with the finest light brown hair, was remarkably “genteel,” and--a great recommendation and interesting to ladies--was always dressed with taste and simplicity. He concludes his description: “For her face was regular and agreeable, rather than beautiful, and those charms she retained with little diminution to her death, at the age of seventy-nine” (in July, 1767). He states that she was “grave and mild of character, a lover of truth, and circumstantial about small things. She lived in a decent and dignified manner after her retirement from Court, and was considered and respected by those around her in her old age.” King George the Second has often, when Mrs. Howard, his mistress, was dressing the Queen, come into the room, and snatched the handkerchief off, and cried, “Because you have an ugly neck yourself, you like to hide the Queen’s.” Her Majesty (all the while calling her “My good Howard”) took great joy in employing her in the most servile offices about her person. The King was so communicative to his wife, that one day Mrs. Selwyn, another of the bedchamber women, told him he should be the last man with whom she would have an intrigue, because he always told the Queen. Mrs. Howard was celebrated for her agreeable supper parties, which were often attended by the King. At Hampton Court the maids-of-honour used to call her rooms the “Swiss Cantons,” because they were neutral ground on which all could meet. Henrietta Howard wisely mixed herself up with no factions, and was a woman naturally, without spite or jealousy, and though slightly deaf, a wonderful hostess. On account of the name given to her rooms, she was known as the “Swiss.” Many years after Mary Bellenden, when a married woman, looked back with pleasure to the pleasant time spent with Mrs. Howard. “I wish we were all in the ‘Swiss Cantons’ again,” she writes. And later still Molly Lepel, then Lady Hervey, writes in the same strain to Mrs. Howard: