8 January 1787 – 14 January 1787

This morning, when I was hurrying to the queen, I met Mr. Fairly, who said he was waiting to see me. Very melancholy he looked-very much changed from what I had seen him. His lady, to whom he is much attached, is suffering death by inches, from the most painful of all complaints, a cancer. His eldest son, who seems about twelve years old, was with him. He was going, he said, to place him at Eton. The day following I was taken very ill myself; a bilious fever, long lurking, suddenly seized me, and a rheumatism in my head at the same time. I was forced to send to Mr. Battiscombe for advice, and to Miss Planta to officiate for me at night with the queen. Early the next morning Miss Planta came to me from the queen, to desire I would not be uneasy in missing my attendance, and that I would think of nothing but how to take care of myself. This, however, was not all, for soon after she came herself, not only to my room, but to my bedside, and, after many enquiries, desired me to say sincerely what I should do if I had been so attacked at home. A blister, I said, was all I could devise; and I had one accordingly, which cured the head, and set me at ease. But the fever had been long gathering, and would not so rapidly be dismissed. I kept my bed this day and the next. The third day I was sufficiently better to quit my bed and bedroom; and then I had not only another visit from the queen, but also from the two eldest princesses.