Mary moved a little from the mantelpiece and held out her hand. Shrewsbury went on one knee to kiss the soft fingers. "I hope to see you at court once more," she said, with a pretty smile. "I hope you will serve the King again when we are through this difficult pass." He answered from his heart— "I would serve His Majesty with my life." When he had gone Mary went to the window, for the light was beginning to fade, and drew from her waist a crystal watch enamelled with white violets. It was nearly time for her supper. She resided now at Whitehall to please the people, and to please the people dined nearly always in public, a practice the King detested and could scarcely ever be brought to do; that penance was over for to-day, but she had other disagreeable duties to perform. She rang the handbell on an ormolu bureau between the windows, and asked the Dutch usher who came if Lord Feversham was without. He had, it seemed, been long awaiting an audience. The Queen commanded him to be brought to her, and seated herself in the yellow brocade chair to the right of the fireplace. Lord Feversham, a Frenchman, a Catholic, and Chamberlain of the Dowager Queen Catherine’s household, entered with a most lowly obeisance. Mary looked at him haughtily. "You can guess the matter on which we have sent for you?" she asked, speaking in French. "I fear I have again fallen under Your Majesty’s displeasure." "Both you and your mistress are very much in our displeasure," answered Mary. "It was our duty to reprimand you three days ago for leaving out the prayers for the success of His Majesty in the services held in Her Majesty’s chapel, and we listened for near an hour to your excuses, nor could make much sense of them. And now the offence is repeated." "I entreat Your Majesty to believe that it was an oversight," answered Feversham humbly. "Disloyalty and insolence prompts such oversights," flashed the Queen. "We will not take it, my lord; for though we may be meek, yet we stand for His Sovereign Lord the King. Tell Queen Catherine so, and bid her to-night put up prayers for the success of my Lord Torrington against our enemies the French——" Feversham winced, and stole a startled glance at the woman he had believed to be an amiable cipher; the young beauty’s demeanour as she sat stately and resolved in her regal gown undeceived him. "When we rode abroad in Hyde Park to-day," she continued, "we did note many swarming villains, French and Irish, who gave us impertinent and joyous looks as if they did anticipate a triumph, and maybe Her Majesty thinketh also that she may do as she list now M. de Tourville is in the Channel. But we have no fear of any kind as to the issue of these matters, nor shall we be weak. Some great men will lie in the Tower to-night. Bid your mistress take care." She rose, and her full height, with heels and head-dress, was more than his. He made as if to speak.