Surely so strange a dilemma as that of having a hundred and fifty thousand pounds too much for one’s peace of mind, and of being able to dispense with the interest of such a sum, is of rare occurrence. The Duchess, it appears, was not only averse to speculations in the South Sea scheme, but dreaded, at times, lest the national debt should be cancelled by a “sponge,” as she frequently expressed it;[284] though that phrase relates to a later period, when the hated Walpole was in power. The mere possession of wealth could, however, only have satisfied a mind far less grovelling than that of the Duchess. Power was her aim, her delight; a little brief authority her foible; intrigue her element, faction her recreation. It was impossible that the habits of a long life could be laid aside, and nothing could pacify her busy spirit. Accordingly, we find her just as much devoted to the acquisition of court favour in the decline of life, as she had been, before death had deprived her of those bright ornaments of society for whose sake she may have been supposed to have coveted royal favour with peculiar avidity. Neglected by the King, she received with eagerness the attentions of the Prince and Princess of Wales, who were at variance with the court, and who consequently cherished the malcontents. The Princess, afterwards Queen Caroline, was eventually a favourite with the Duchess; but, at an earlier period, it was perhaps sufficient that George the First habitually called his daughter-in-law “_cette diablesse Madame la Princesse_,”[285] to render the Duchess, who was affronted by the small account made of the Duke, and of her own influence, a warm partisan of the Princess of Wales. Eager to pay her utmost court to the Princess, in June, 1720, the Duchess wrote to her friend Mrs. Clayton[286] a glowing description of a visit to Richmond, which she had paid to their royal highnesses the Prince and Princess of Wales, whose reception, as she declares, “of the Duke of Marlborough and poor me” would fill more than the paper on which she wrote. Not only was she graciously received by the Prince and Princess, but by the Lord Chamberlain and attendants, even to the pages of the bedchamber; so that the Duchess, long unused to receive such certain demonstrations of favour, fancied herself in a new world. Music of a superior kind gave gaiety to the entertainment; but the shrewd Duchess could very plainly see that the Princess was more charmed with the “music of the box and dice” than with any other instrument. Their royal highnesses had, at that time, a charming residence at Richmond, with beautiful walks, and woods wild and charming, but with a house scarcely handsome enough, as the Duchess thought, for the heir apparent.