"I think not, sire; it was merely to ask instructions as to how matters were to be arranged with Monsieur Heinsius with regard to the Spanish questions——" "Let that wait," returned the King indifferently. He leant forward and took up his wineglass. "How do you like our house of Loo, Mr. Prior?" "I think it worthy of Your Majesty." "The gardens are at their finest," remarked William languidly. Mr. Prior rose and awaited commands; but the King seemed to quickly forget his presence, and the other gentlemen took no notice of him at all; most of them were far gone in wine, and William was drinking heavily—a new thing, for he had ever been the most moderate of men and intolerant of excess in others. The King turned his indifferent gaze on Romney and Wharton, who were arguing together. "Discussing a Republic for England, my lords?" he asked. "Something of the kind, sir," said Wharton. "Well, I will disappoint you yet," answered William. "I will bring King James’s son over on you and give you another Stewart king——" "Why, that is as Your Majesty pleaseth," replied Wharton impudently. "Or there is Tom of Pembroke," continued William; "there is a good block of wood out of which to chip a king!" Pembroke raised a heated face at this mention of his name. "Sir," he cried, leaning down the table towards the King, "my Lord Albemarle telleth me that I was insolent last night." "So you were—damned insolent," said the King, in his quiet, tired, unmoved voice. "I could not have been in my senses," said Pembroke, in a slightly maudlin tone. "Oh, silly," cried the King, "you were drunk as any trooper; but I never mind what a man saith after his tenth bottle." Romney laughed. "You’ll get more wisdom out of Tom then than when he is sober, sir!" "And even more folly out of you, Harry," said His Majesty dryly. He filled his tall glass, and was raising it when he glanced at Albemarle, who was looking at him steadily. William laughed. "Are you thinking of the doctors?" he asked. "Your Majesty will ever disregard their advice," replied the young man, in a moved voice. The King laughed again, not at all pleasantly or graciously. "Do you think I would forego even the gratification this affordeth"—he touched the bottle contemptuously—"for years of life?" He drank the wine, using all the while his left hand, for his right arm was round the boar-hound. "Dr. Ratcliffe aspired to wit this morning," he said. "’I would not have you cough for your three kingdoms,’ he remarked. ’Doctor,’ I told him, ’’tis the three kingdoms killing me, not the cough.’" He looked round and saw Mr. Prior still standing between the table and the green-gold light of the window. "Why, Mr. Prior, I play the indifferent host," he murmured. "Join us—take your place——"