Part 37 (1/2)
He took her hand and said: ”I wish you were not leaving me.”
”You are not feeling so well?”
”I haf a feeling that I do not vish for you to go.”
”You do not care to be parted from me, is that it? We have been married for more than twenty-five years....”
”Est il possible?” he asked.
”Yes, George, it is ... and you still do not like to be parted from me.”
”My love,” he said, ”I haf this feeling ...” He touched his heart. ”... in here ... that I vould not vish you to be away from me ... at this time.”
Tears filled Anne's eyes. ”Then, my love, I shall remain.”
That night the Prince became very ill. Anne, alarmed, aroused the Mashams. Abigail helped her to hold up George to enable him to breathe while Samuel hurried for the doctors.
”He knew,” whispered Anne. ”Oh, my poor dear angel, he knew. He begged me not to leave him.”
This was a more virulent attack than usual and both women knew that the end was near.
”I thank G.o.d that I have you with me, Abigail my dear, to help me bear this trial,” said the Queen.
”I suffer with Your Majesty,” Abigail answered, as she expertly lifted the Prince and helped to maintain him in a more comfortable position.
”How ... can so little a person ... hold such a big one ...” whispered George.
”Don't talk, my dearest. Masham is an angel. And I don't know what we should do without her. But don't talk, my love.”
The doctors arrived and eased him a little. But there was consternation throughout the Palace.
Prince George, old Est-il-Possible?, who had never been really unkind to anyone since he had come to England, was dying.
Sarah heard the news. The Prince dying and she not at the Palace! Others would be attending the Queen at this important moment. It was unthinkable. There had been that quarrel in the Cathedral when the Queen had been so bad tempered and there had been no reconciliation. But at a time like this, the d.u.c.h.ess of Marlborough must be at the Palace.
Could she present herself to the Queen? Scarcely when Anne had not answered her letters.
She sat down and wrote a letter to the Queen telling her that in spite of the latter's ill treatment of her she was ready to let bygones be bygones and return to look after the Queen at this sad time. But she could not curb a word or two of reproach.
”Though the last time I had the honour to wait upon Your Majesty your usage of me was such as was scarce possible for me to imagine or anyone to believe ...”
The angry pen raced on; the letter was written and sealed. Now to send it by a messenger.
But perhaps there was little time to waste. It might be that the Prince was already dead. Others would be there, taking over her duties. She could not allow that, so she would take the letter herself.
She arrived at Kensington, haughtily summoned a page and told him to take the letter to the Queen immediately.
”Her Majesty is with the Prince,” was the answer.
She looked amazed that anyone could question her orders. ”I have told you to take that letter to the Queen ... and no matter where she is I expect you to obey me.”
The page, intimidated as everyone was accustomed to be by the great d.u.c.h.ess, immediately obeyed. But no sooner had he gone than it occurred to Sarah that when she read the letter the Queen might refuse to see her. So without waiting for a summons from the Queen she went to the bedchamber where the Prince lay dying and brus.h.i.+ng aside those who were guarding the door strode into the room.
The Queen, blinded by tears, was not aware of her until she came close.
”Mrs. Morley, I should be with you at such a time.”
The Queen did not seem to see her.
”Although,” went on Sarah, ”in view of your treatment of me when we last met I am sure you did not expect to see me....”
The Queen turned away from her, but Sarah caught her arm.
”But at such a time we must forget that unfortunate incident. I shall remain here with you. But naturally I must ask you to dismiss Masham. She will not be needed while I am here....”
Anne turned her tragic face to Sarah and in that moment none could doubt that she was the Queen and Sarah the subject.
”Go away,” she said.
Sarah was deflated. Anne turned her back. There was nothing the d.u.c.h.ess could do but leave the bedchamber.
The Queen sat beside her husband's bed, unable to speak, stunned by her misery. The d.u.c.h.ess, who when told to go away had only left the bedchamber and was waiting in the adjoining room, immediately came back and ordered everyone from the room so that only she and the Queen remained at the bedside of the dead Prince.
Sarah knelt by the Queen and took one of her hands.
”My poor friend, this is a terrible blow. I suffer with you.”
The Queen looked at Sarah as though she did not see her.
”But,” went on Sarah, ”there is nothing you can do by weeping.”
Still the Queen did not answer and Sarah, continuing to kneel, allowed the silence to remain for some minutes; then she said gently: ”Your Majesty should not remain here. It is not good for you. Will you let me take you to St. James's?”
”I will stay here,” said Anne.
”No, no,” said Sarah. ”You cannot stay in this dismal place.”
”Leave me,” whispered Anne.
”How could I leave you at such a time? You need your friend with you now as never before. My dear Mrs. Morley, I suffer with you, but I repeat it would be well to leave this place.”
”I wish to stay at Kensington.”
Anger bubbled up in Sarah. Why was she so stubborn? Who ever heard of a widowed Queen refusing to leave the bedside of her husband? Masham was here, of course. Did she think that it was easier to have Masham with her constantly at Kensington than it would be at St. James's?
With tremendous restraint Sarah prevented herself from mentioning Masham's name. Even she realized that one could not quarrel in the death chamber.