|We have already heard a great deal about Anne, because up to the death of her sister, Queen Mary, their lives are so closely connected that it is impossible to understand some of the incidents without mentioning both sisters. The death of Mary brought Princess Anne more into public notice as heir presumptive to the throne, though it was many years before she became Queen of England. Heretofore, as we have seen, she lived like a private person at Berkeley House, and had not even been permitted to appear at court, because of the ill-feeling that existed between her and her sister Mary. Lord and Lady Marlborough, whose devotion to Princess Anne had seriously offended the queen, still continued her warm friends, and the princess wrote letters to her father filled with professions of loyalty and affection as before. King James did not attach much importance to them; but how could he, poor man, after the sad experience he had had. He knew perfectly well that his daughter merely consulted her own interest whether she appeared in the light of his friend or his enemy; for never was a father worse treated than poor James had been by both his daughters. The Duke of Gloucester was with his mother when Queen Mary's death was announced, and his attendants were surprised at the indifference he manifested. He had been fond of his royal aunt; but as he was only five years {401} [Illustration: 0407] {403}of age, he could not comprehend the full significance of death, and like most children, was more interested in those people and objects that immediately surrounded him. It was otherwise with his mother, for she and her sister had loved each other devotedly in early years; and when the grave closed over Queen Mary's body, all enmity was forgotten, and Princess Anne could only remember that a once fondly loved relative was irrevocably lost. The old affection returned, and she wept bitter tears. The memory of her sister made her heart warm towards King William, whom she had thoroughly detested for several years. Perhaps his desperate grief touched her, for he shut himself up in Kensington Palace and gave vent to the most agonizing sobs. Those who knew him best were surprised that a man of his disposition could take sorrow so to heart; but he had lost a devoted wife and friend,--one who had sought to place him in the foremost ranks on every occasion, and to gain for him the credit and praise that was really due to her own superior talent for ruling. William III. was well aware of this, and of the fact that henceforth his hold on the crown was by no means secure. His only right to his lofty position was through his wife, and now that she was removed might not a breath deprive him of it? While the war lasted he was compelled to absent himself from England nearly half the year. Hitherto Queen Mary had supplied his place, who was to do so now? His position seemed difficult and dangerous. One day, when he was sitting alone with his