The beginning of December saw the diminished and imprisoned household suffering under an increase of apprehensions. The condition of the King became even more alarming; the Queen began to sink as she had not done before. From the outer world came sinister rumours, the duration of the malady threatening a Regency—‘a word,’ says Fanny, ‘which I have not yet been able to articulate.’ Inside, the palace at Kew was ‘in a state of cold and discomfort past all imagination.’ It had never been a winter residence, and there was nothing prepared to fit it for becoming one. Not only were the bedrooms of the Princesses without carpets, but so out of repair was the building, that a plentiful supply of sandbags had to be provided to moderate the gales that blew through the doors and windows. The parlour in which Miss Burney had to sit with the Schwellenberg was carpetless, chilly, and miserable; and even this was locked in the morning on Fanny’s admission of having used it before breakfast; Cerbera barking out that, ‘when everybody went to her room, she might keep an inn—what you call hotel.’ These domestic inconveniences endured for some time. By degrees, however, the worst of them were obviated. The bare boards were wholly or partially covered; the apartments allotted to the family were refurnished and redistributed; and Miss Burney was no longer exposed to the cold damps of a dark passage while awaiting the page who brought her for the Queen the first news of how the night had been passed by the patient. Hitherto no progress had been made towards a successful treatment of the King’s malady. In the early days of December, however, even the Queen felt it useless to disguise any longer the nature of the attack, and experts in mental disease were accordingly added to the staff of physicians. Fortunately, a right choice was made at the first trial. The new advisers selected were Dr. Francis Willis, a clergyman who for twenty-eight years had devoted himself to the cure of lunacy, and his son, Dr. John Willis, who was associated with him in practice. The arrival of these two country practitioners—they came from Lincolnshire— revived the hopes which the Court physicians, by their dissensions and general despondency, had well-nigh destroyed. Though decried by the regular faculty as interlopers, if not charlatans, the Doctors Willis took the hearts of all at Kew Palace by storm. Mr. Digby pronounced them ‘fine, lively, natural, independent characters.’ Miss Burney, on making their acquaintance, heartily re-echoed this praise: