But her release from her uncongenial duties was at length, with difficulty, obtained; and she retired to her friends, Lord and Lady Berkeley (relatives of her future husband), at Berkeley House.[158] Evelyn, writing in his usual rapturous way whenever he had anything to say of his exquisite Margaret, gives the following pretty picture of her flight from the Court: 'You will easyly figure to your selfe how buissy the young Saint was the next morning in makeing upp her little carriage to quitt her prison; and when you have fancied the conflagration of a certain Citty the Scripture speaks of, imagine this Lady trussing upp her little fardle like the two daughters whom the angell hast'ned and conducted; butt the similitude goes no futher, for this holy Virgin went to Zoar, they to the cave of Folly and Intemperence; there was no danger of _her_ lookeing back and becomeing a statue for sorrow of what she left behind. All her household stuffe, besides a Bible and a bundle of Prayerbookes, was packed upp in a very little compass, for she lived soe farr from superfluitye, that she carryed all that was vallueable in her person; and tho' she had a courtly wardrobe, she affected it not, because every thing became her that she putt on, and she became every thing was putt upon her.' She afterwards moved to lodgings which Evelyn himself built for her, 'over against his Majestie's wood-yard in Scotland Yard,' at Whitehall; settling here, as he says, 'with that pretty and discreete oeconomye soe naturall to her; and never was there such an household of faith, never Lady more worthy of the blessings she was entering into, who was soe thankfull to God for them.' Her housekeeping and the mode in which she kept her faultless accompts are all lovingly dwelt upon; and, indeed, she seems to have been a bright example of the Wordsworthian line, of 'Pure religion, teaching household laws.' At length, after many tormenting misgivings as to whether she was justified before God in so doing, she married Sidney Godolphin, 'that singular and silent lover,' whose gravity and temper at Court all knew so well, on 16th May, 1675, at the Temple Church. The marriage was a private one, for reasons which are by no means clear, and for which even Evelyn can hardly quite forgive her; though he says, 'If ever two were created for each other, and marriages, as they say, made in heaven, this happy paire were of the number.' Two or three years after their marriage she was brought to bed at Whitehall, of her first-born son, Francis--to the great joy of herself and her husband. But shortly afterwards a fever with alarming symptoms set in, causing the following touching letter to be written by her husband to Evelyn: