The Princess Anne was at this time indisposed, and remaining, by her physician’s advice, upon one floor, lying constantly on a couch. Yet, upon hearing of the Queen’s illness, she sent a lady of the bedchamber with a message of kindness and respect, begging that her Majesty would allow her the happiness of waiting on her, and declaring that she would run any risk in her present situation to have that satisfaction. To this message, which was delivered to the Queen herself, a reply was returned, in the King’s name, that the Queen would send an answer on the following day. Accordingly a letter arrived, announcing that, since the Queen was ordered to be kept as quiet as possible, the writer, Lady Derby,[287] was ordered by the King to request that the Princess would defer her visit. The construction which Lady Marlborough put upon this “civil answer was, that poor Queen Mary’s disease was mortal, more than even if the physicians had told her that it was;” yet she added also the uncharitable interpretation, “that the deferring the Princess’s coming was only to leave room for continuing the quarrel, in case the Queen should chance to recover, or for reconciliation with the King (if that should be thought convenient) in case of the Queen’s death.”[288] Be that as it may, the two sisters never met again. The King, overwhelmed by a knowledge of the Queen’s danger, seems to have been occupied with far different thoughts than those imputed to him by the Duchess, and probably consulted only the Queen’s well-doing, when he prohibited a harassing interview between her and the Princess, which might have hastened the approaching event. On the third day of Mary’s illness, the stern, reserved monarch was completely bowed down by the intelligence that the medical advice called to supersede the erroneous treatment of Dr. Ratcliffe, was resorted to too late. He called Dr. Burnet into his closet, and with a burst of anguish exclaimed, that there was “No hope of the Queen; that, from being the happiest, he was now going to be the most miserable creature upon earth.” The Queen bore the awful consciousness of approaching death with far more composure than he, for whom she had sacrificed every other tie, could assume. When apprised by Archbishop Tenison that all hope of her recovery was at an end, she quickly comprehended the reverend prelate’s intention, for which he sought to prepare her by degrees. She evinced no agitation. She said, she thanked God that she had always resolved that nothing should be left to the last hour; she had then nothing to do, but to look up to God, and submit to his will. Indeed, as one who loved this virtuous Princess observes, “her piety went farther than submission, for she seemed to desire death rather than life.”[289]