Over their ‘cups,’ right merry were the Queen and her gallant vice-chamberlain at the extreme folly of the royal son. They were too merry for Caroline to be indignant, further than her indignation could be shown by designating her son by the very rudest possible of names, and showing her contempt for all who had helped him in the night’s escapade. She acknowledged her belief that no foul play had taken place, chiefly because the child was a daughter. This circumstance was in itself no proof of the genuineness of the little lady, for if Frederick had been desirous of setting aside his brother William, his mother’s favourite, from all hope of succeeding to the throne, the birth of a daughter was quite as sufficient for the purpose as that of a son.[35] The Queen comforted herself by remarking that, at all events, the trouble she had taken that night was not gratuitous. It would at least, as she delicately remarked, be a ‘good grimace for the public,’ who would contrast her parental anxiety with the marital cruelty and the filial undutifulness of the Prince of Wales. While this genial pair were thus enjoying their chocolate and gossip, the two princesses, and two or three of the noblemen in attendance, were doing the same in an adjoining apartment. Meanwhile Walpole had arrived, and had been closeted with the prince, who again had the supreme felicity of narrating to the unwilling listener all the incidents of the journey, in telling which he, in fact, gave to the minister the opportunity which Gyges was afforded by Candaules, or something very like it, and for which Frederick merited, if not the fate of the heathen husband, at least the next severe penalty short of it. The sun was up long before the royal and illustrious party dispersed. The busy children of industry, who saw the Queen and her equipage sweep by them along the Western Road, must have been perplexed with attempts at guessing at the causes of her Majesty being so early abroad, in so wayworn a guise. The last thing they could then have conjectured was the adventure of the night--the scene at Hampton Court, the flight of the son with his wife, the pursuit of the royal mother with her two daughters, the occurrence at St. James’s--or, indeed, any of the incidents of the stirring drama that had been played out. From the hour when royalty had been suddenly aroused to that at which the Queen arrived at Hampton Court Palace--eight in the morning, George II. had troubled himself as little with conjecturing as his subjects. When the Queen detailed to him all that had passed, he poured out the usual amount of paternal wrath, and of the usual quality. He never was nice of epithet, and least of all when he had any to bestow upon his son. It was not spared now, and what was most liberally given was most bitter of quality.