So passed away her life up to the period when restrictions were taken off the Regency, and the Prince of Wales became virtually King. The friends of the Princess in the House of Commons served her cause with some dexterity, and seldom made a statement in reference to her without temporarily reviving some of the half-extinct sympathy of the general public. Others of her ‘faction,’ as her friends were called, kept her in a state of irritability and excitement by speaking of publishing her memoirs in full detail. Some persons, with less pretence to the name of friends, injured her extremely by statements affectedly put forward in her behalf. Her agitated condition of life was still further aggravated by the obstacles put in her way so as to prevent her seeing her daughter as often as she desired. She was even bold enough, and justifiably bold enough under the circumstances, to go down to Windsor to see the Princess. This audacious step, as it was considered, was met by a message from the Regent, through Lord Liverpool, requesting her never to repeat so uncalled-for an expedition. She promised obedience, on condition that she should be permitted to see the Princess once a-week; but otherwise she threatened a repetition of the visit. Such menaces gratified those who provoked them. The more they could goad the Princess of Wales into demonstrations of violent and vulgar indignation, the more, as they well knew, would she lose the public esteem. Her nature was too prone thus to lose sight of dignity and self-possession on being provoked. The grandeur of endurance was a flight beyond her ken. She mourned the loss of a wise friend in Perceval, who was partly lost to her, however, before his death, as soon as he became minister. There were reports, too, at this time, probably ill-founded, that she was to be removed to Hampton Court, the apartments at Kensington Palace being required for the Princess Charlotte. This, and the abandonment of her by some of her old partisans among the nobility, rendered her naturally querulous. ‘No, no!’ she said, ‘there is no more society for me in England; for do you think, if Lady Harrowby and the Duchess of Beaufort, and all of that set, were to come round to me now, that I would invite them to my intimacy? Never! They left me without a reason, as time-servers, and I never can wish for them back again.’[14] She felt that she could hold no court in presence of that of the Regent, and that as long as he lived she must be patient, and ‘nothing.’ Could she only have been the former, she perhaps would not have come to be of such small esteem as that which she ultimately experienced.