The difficulty was overcome; the King recovered, the royal couple lived quietly, and when they were disposed to be gay and in company, they already exhibited a spirit of economy which may illustrate the saying, that any virtue carried to excess becomes a vice. On the 26th of November the Queen and the King saw ‘a few friends’; the invitations only included half a dozen strangers, and the entire company consisted of not more than twelve or thirteen couple. The six strangers were Lady Caroline Russell, Lady Jane Stewart, Lord Suffolk, Lord Northampton, Lord Mandeville, and Lord Grey. Besides these were the court _habitués_, namely the Duchess of Ancaster and her Grace of Hamilton, who accompanied the Queen on her first arrival. These ladies danced little: but on the other hand, Lady Effingham and Lady Egremont danced much. Then there were the six maids of honour, Lady Bolingbroke --who could not dance because she was in black gloves, and Lady Susan Stewart in attendance upon ‘Lady Augusta.’ The latter was that eldest daughter of Frederick, Prince of Wales, at whose birth there had been such a commotion, and who was commonly called the _Lady_ Augusta, in obedience to her father’s wishes, who was fond of this old-fashioned English style of naming our princesses. The noblemen in waiting were Lords March, Eglintoun, Cantilupe, and Huntingdon. There were ‘no sitters-by,’ except the King’s mother, the Duchess of Bedford, and Lady Bute. At this select party, which commenced between half-past six and seven, the King danced the whole time with the Queen; and the Lady Augusta, future mother of the next Queen of England, with her four younger brothers. The dancing went on uninterruptedly till one in the morning: the hungry guests separated without supper; and so ended the young couple’s first and not very hilarious party. That young couple certainly began life in a prosaically business-like way. To suit the King’s convenience, one opera night was changed from Tuesdays to Mondays, because the former was ‘post-day’ and his Majesty too much engaged to attend; and the Queen would not have gone on Tuesdays without him. There was more questionable taste exhibited on other occasions. Eight thousand pounds were expended on a new state-coach, which was ‘a beautiful object crowded with improprieties.’ The mixture of palm-trees and Tritons was laughed at; the latter as not being adapted to a land-carriage; the former as being as little aquatic as the Tritons were terrestrial. It was, perhaps, with reference to the Queen’s first supperless party that Lord Chesterfield uttered a _bon mot_, when an addition to the peerage was contemplated. When this was mentioned in his presence, some one remarked: ‘I suppose there will be no dukes made.’ ‘Oh, yes, there will!’ exclaimed Chesterfield, ‘there is to be _one_’ ‘Is? who?’ ‘Lord Talbot; he is to be created Duke Humphrey, and there is to be no table kept at court but his.’