This buffoonery, joined to the strange figure of the poor lady, had
almost thrown Miss Stewart into hysterics; for the princess of Babylon,
after this accident, was quite flat on one side, and immoderately
protuberant on the other. All those who had before suppressed their
inclinations to laugh, now gave themselves free scope, when they saw that
Miss Stewart was ready to split her sides. The poor lady was greatly
disconcerted: every person was officious to console her; but the queen,
who inwardly laughed more heartily than any, pretended to disapprove of
their taking such liberties.

Whilst Miss Hamilton and Mrs. Wetenhall endeavoured to refit Lady
Muskerry in another room, the Duke of Buckingham told the king that,
if the physicians would permit a little exercise immediately after a
delivery, the best way to recover Lady Muskerry was to renew the dance
as soon as ever her infant was replaced; this advice was approved, and
accordingly put in execution. The queen proposed, as soon as she
appeared, a second round of country-dances; and Lady Muskerry accepting
the offer, the remedy had its desired effect, and entirely removed every
remembrance of her late mishap.

Whilst these things were passing at the king's court, that of the Duke of
York took a journey on the other side of London; the pretence of this
journey was to visit the county whose name he bore; but love was the real
motive. The duchess, since her elevation, had conducted herself with
such prudence and circumspection, as could not be sufficiently admired:
such were her manners, and such the general estimation in which she was
held, that she appeared to have found out the secret of pleasing every
one; a secret yet more rare than the grandeur to which she had been
raised: but, after having gained universal esteem, she was desirous of
being more particularly beloved; or, more properly speaking, malicious