The King of England has returned to London in good health (1719).  The Prince of Wales causes me great anxiety.  He thought he should do well to send one of his gentlemen to his father, to assure him in most submissive terms of the joy he felt at his happy return.  The King not only would not receive the letter, but he sent back the gentleman with a very harsh rebuke, revoking at the same time the permission, which before his journey he had given to the Prince of Wales, to see his daughter, whom the Prince loves very tenderly; this really seems too severe.  It may be said that the King is rather descended from the race of the Czar than from that of Brunswick and the Palatinate.  Such conduct can do him no good.

M. d’Entremont, the last Ambassador from Sicily, was upon the point of departing, and had already had his farewell audience, when some circumstance happened which compelled him to stay some time longer.  He found himself without a lodging, for his hotel had been already let.  A lady seeing the embarrassment in which Madame d’Entremont was thus placed, said to her, “Madame, I have pleasure in offering you my house, my own room, and my own bed.”  The Ambassador’s lady not knowing what to do, accepted the offer with great readiness.  She went to the lady’s house, and as she is old and in ill health, she went to bed immediately.  Towards midnight she heard a noise like that of some person opening a secret door.  In fact, a door in the wall by the bedside was opened.  Some one entered, and began to undress.  The lady called out, “Who is there?” A voice replied, “It is I; be quiet.”  “Who are you?” asked the lady.  “What is the matter with you?” was the reply.  “You were not wont to be so particular.  I am undressing, and shall come to bed directly.”  At these words the lady cried out, “Thieves!” with all her might, and the unknown person dressed himself quickly, and withdrew.

When the Electoral Prince of Saxony came hither, he addressed a pretty compliment to the King, which we all thought was his own, and we therefore conceived a very favourable notion of his parts.  He did not, however, keep up that good opinion, and probably the compliment was made for him by the Elector-Palatine.  The King desired the Duchesse de Berri to show him about Marly.  He walked with her for an hour without ever offering her his arm or saying one word to her.  While they were ascending a small hill, the Palatine, his Governor, nodded to him; and as the Prince did not understand what he meant, he was at length obliged to say to him, “Offer your arm to the Duchesse de Berri.”  The Prince obeyed, but without saying a word.  When they reached the summit, “Here,” said the Duchesse de Berri, “is a nice place for blindman’s buff.”  Then, for the first time, he opened his mouth, and said, “Oh, yes; I am very willing to play.”  Madame de Berri was too much fatigued to play; but the Prince continued amusing himself the whole day without offering the least civility to the Duchess, who had taken such pains for him.  This will serve to show how puerile the Prince is.