The dining-room was large, lofty, and cool, though filled with the reflected sunlight that shone in the thick trees that shaded the terrace on to which the four tall windows opened. The walls were hung with pictures of the Princes of the House of Orange, wearing armour and holding the baton of authority; above the deep fireplace was a portrait of Queen Mary in red and ermine, clasped with emeralds and pearls. The whole room was full of the sense of afternoon sun, but was in shade by reason of the trees without; yet here and there the gold light penetrated and lay in glowing patches on walls, floor, and the white lace cloth that covered the long table that occupied the centre of the chamber. A number of gentlemen sat round this table on velvet-covered stools; the dishes had been removed; the wineglasses and bottles showed pleasantly on the white linen. At the head of the table sat the King, in a low arm-chair; beside him was a huge white boar-hound, who rested his long head on his master’s knee. William’s right arm was round this animal, whom he caressed with affectionate movements of his fingers. Mr. Prior glanced round the company; he knew them all by sight: there was M. Albemarle, seated nearest to the King, N. Ginckel, my Lord Romney, my Lord Wharton, my Lord Pembroke, M. Zulestein, and M. Auverquerque; they were all laughing at something that featherbrain Lord Romney was relating, and most of them were in hunting attire and leant carelessly on the table. Matthew Prior looked at the King with searching interest. William was leaning back in a languid attitude, with his black plumed hat pulled over his eyes; he wore a full coat of velvet brocade in a dark purple, with the huge embroidered elbow-cuffs, now fashionable, and under-sleeves of gold tissue; a great quantity of heavy lace fell over his scarlet waistcoat and at his wrists; the long, thick, dark curls of his peruke half concealed the flash of his star. This extravagant vesture increased the extreme delicacy of his appearance; he seemed sunk and fainting under the weight of velvet, silk, and lace. His face was pale and hollow, his eyes heavy-lidded and deeply shadowed beneath; constant pain had drawn his mobile mouth into an expression of endurance; his cleft chin, usually carried slightly raised, was sunk on his bosom. Mr. Prior, as he came up to make his bow, noticed that His Majesty’s hands were so thin that the diamond ring that he wore on the third finger of the hand that caressed the dog had slipped round till the rose was towards the palm. He looked at the young secretary without interest. "From The Hague?" he asked, and his voice was broken to a whisper with his unceasing asthma. Mr. Prior went on one knee and handed the letter with which he had been charged. William motioned him to put it on the table by the wineglasses. "Nothing of importance, eh?" he said.