The banquet I will not describe. Suffice it to say, it was over; and with unsteady steps the Kings proceeded to take their seats with the Queen, and all the principal ladies in attendance upon her. The Princess Elizabeth was not present, and Arabella Stuart, from her royal blood, was seated next to Anne of Denmark. Many of the followers of the old court who had received but little encouragement from James, had, with laudable feeling, been invited by the Earl of Salisbury; and amongst the rest, was our good friend Sir Harry West. Though the King took no notice of him, and many of the young courtiers thought fit to wonder how such an antiquated specimen of the Elizabethan days had come thither, the sweet lady whose tale we tell had stopped to speak to him as she passed onward to her seat, giving him her hand, and calling him cousin, from his distant relationship to the family of Cavendish. "I beseech you, Sir Harry," she said, in a low voice, after a few words of courtesy, "stand behind me on the dais, and leave me not if you can help it, It will be doing me a great service to let me converse with you, rather than with one who, I fear, may be too near." "I will be there," replied Sir Harry; and though there is always some difficulty in making such arrangements in a crowded court, the old knight, proceeding with his usual calm self-possession and firm experience, had reached the back of Arabella's chair by the time she was seated. The moment after, the Viscount Rochester approached; and, though he was not one to attempt to displace a gentleman of Sir Harry West's years and reputation, he looked a little mortified, and took a position on the other side of the lady, nearer to the Queen. Arabella looked round to see if her old friend was there; and Rochester, who, to his credit be it spoken, was quite sober, seized the opportunity to bend over her, expressing in courteous terms, though somewhat unpolished language, a hope that she did not suffer from the heat. The lady replied with all due civility, but briefly; and, as she did so, her eyes were brought to the opposite side of the circle, where sat some other ladies of the court; and there, to her surprise, she beheld the lovely countenance of the Countess of Essex gazing upon her with an expression of fierce anger, which she could not at all comprehend. Without much care to discover what was the cause, however, and merely following her own plan, she turned instantly to the other side, where Sir Harry West stood a step behind her, and said a few words to him in a low tone. The knight answered, and Arabella rejoined, but their conversation was speedily interrupted by the commencement of the masque.