But his reign will be short!" He was becoming delirious, so I induced him to lie on the bed while I went downstairs to find Betty.

When I found her, I told her that the fever was mounting to Hamilton's brain, and that I feared he would soon become violent.
She sent a boy to fetch a physician, then turned to me, saying:-- "I'll go up to him.

I believe I can quiet him." So we went back to George's room and found him out of bed, prowling about like a caged wild thing, tossing his arms, and shouting his intention to kill the king.
"You must go back to bed, Master Hamilton," commanded Betty in her soft, low voice.
He caught her around the waist and said, laughing, "You're a good girl, Betty." "I hope I am, sir.

But you must go back to bed," she answered.
"And you're pretty, too.

Pretty and good don't usually go together," said George, drawing her close to him.
"No, but you must go back to bed, Master Hamilton, or you will be very ill," she pleaded.
"I'll go for a kiss, Betty," he answered, bending over to take it.