On Saturday, the 24th of January 1795, the travellers entered Hanover blue with cold, of which the benumbed Duchess complained in no very elegant terms. Lord Malmesbury was exceedingly anxious that the Princess should be popular here, as according to the impression of her reported hence to England would probably be that of the King and Queen on her arrival. Lord Malmesbury told her that she was Zémire and Hanover Azor; and that, if she behaved rightly, the monster would be metamorphosed into a beauty; that Beulwitz (at the head of the regency, the most ugly and most disagreeable man possible) would change into the Prince of Wales; that the habit of proper princely behaviour was _natural to her_--an assertion which was not true, as even the diplomatist showed, by adding ‘that it would come of itself; that _acquired_ by this (in that respect) fortunate delay in our journey, it would belong to her, and become familiar to her on her coming to England, where it would be of infinite advantage.’ And yet Hanover was not a very particular place; that is, it was not inhabited--the court end of it, at least--by very particular, strict, or strait-laced people. The Princess was particularly careful of her conduct before persons, some of whom appear to have generally got intoxicated before dinner was over. Nevertheless, Lord Malmesbury did effect a very notable change for the better in the Princess’s habits. He had been before addressing himself to the improvement of principle; he now came to a personal matter, and, if one might be pardoned for laughing at any incident in the life of a poor woman whose life was anything rather than a matter to be laughed at, this is the time when one might do so with least reproach. The party had been three weeks at Hanover, and, during that time, Lord Malmesbury had held frequent discussions with the Princess upon the very delicate matter of the toilette. She prided, or to use the noble lord’s own term, ‘she piqued herself on dressing quick.’ He disapproved of this; for a quick dresser is a slovenly and unclean dresser. On this point, however, she would not be convinced: probably she was the less inclined to be so as the weather continued intensely cold, and the next luxury to lying in bed was being quickly dressed when she got out of it. He could not come to details with a young bride who despised perfect ablutions; but he found a court lady, Madame Busche, through whom he poured the necessary amount of information that should induce the Princess to be more liberal towards her skin in the dispensation of water. He desired Madame Busche to explain to her that the Prince was very delicate, and that he expected a long and very careful _toilette de propreté_, of which she had no idea. ‘On the contrary,’ he says, ‘she neglects it sadly, and is offensive from this neglect. Madame Busche executes her commission well, and the Princess came out, the next day, _well washed all over_!’