23 February 1789 – 1 March 1789

This morning opened wofully to me, though gaily to the house; for as my news of his majesty was perfectly comfortable, I ventured, in direct words, to ask leave to receive my dear friends Mr. and Mrs. Locke, who were now in town:—in understood sentences, and open looks, I had already failed again and again. My answer was—“I have no particular objection, only you’ll keep them to your room.” Heavens!—did they ever, unsummoned, quit it? or have they any wish to enlarge their range of visit? I was silent, and then heard a history of some imprudence in Lady Effingham, who had received some of her friends. My resolution, upon this, I need not mention: I preferred the most lengthened absence to such a permission. But I felt it acutely! and I hoped, at least, that by taking no steps, something more favourable might soon pass.... The king I have seen again in the queen’s dressing-room. On opening the door, there he stood! He smiled at my start, and saying he had waited on purpose to see me, added, “I am quite well now,—I was nearly so when I saw you before, but I could overtake you better now.” And then he left the room. I was quite melted with joy and thankfulness at this so entire restoration. End of February, 1789. Dieu merci!

What a pleasure was mine this morning! how solemn, but how grateful! The queen gave me the “Prayer of Thanksgiving” upon the king’s recovery. It was this morning read in all the churches throughout the metropolis, and by this day week it will reach every church in the kingdom. It kept me in tears all the morning,—that such a moment should actually arrive! after fears so dreadful, scenes so terrible. The queen gave me a dozen to distribute among the female servants: but I reserved one of them for dear Mr. Smelt, who took it from me in speechless extacy—his fine and feeling eyes swimming in tears of joy. There is no describing—and I will not attempt it—the fullness, the almost overwhelming fullness of this morning’s thankful feelings! I had the great gratification to see the honoured object of this joy, for a few minutes, in the queen’s dressing-room. He was all calmness and benevolent graciousness. I fancied my strong emotion had disfigured me; or perhaps the whole of this long confinement and most affecting winter may have somewhat marked my countenance; for the king presently said to me, “Pray, are you quite well to-day?” “I think not quite, sir,” I answered, “She does not look well,” said he to the queen; “she looks a little yellow, I think.” How kind, to think of anybody and their looks, at this first moment of reappearance!