I hardly know how I got through the next ten minutes. Then came quick steps, a sound of speech, a laugh, and then my curtains were pushed aside, and the voice I loved best in all the world said— "Lynette! Lynette, my darling!" Ay, it was my own Guy who came back to me. Changed?—no, not really changed at all. A little older; a little more bronzed; a little longer and fuller in the beard:—that was all. But it was my Guy, himself. "Come! jump out," he said, holding his hand, "and let me present thee to the Lady Queen. I long to see my Lynette the fairest ornament of her Court. And how goes it with Monseigneur, our fair father?" So, talking all the way, I walked with Guy, hand in hand, up the stairs, and into the very bower of the imperial lady who bears the crown of all the world, since it is the flower of all the crowns. "I can assure thee," said Guy, "the Lady Queen has often talked of thee, and is prepared to welcome thee." It was a beautiful room, though small, decorated with carved and fragrant cedar-work, and hung with blue and gold. Round the walls were blue and gold settles, and three curule chairs in the midst. There were only three ladies there,—but I must describe them. The Queen, who sat in one of the curule chairs, was rather short and stout, with a pleasant, motherly sort of look. She appeared to be between forty and fifty years of age. Her daughter, the Lady Isabel, who sat in another chair, busied with some embroidery, was apparently about eighteen; but Guy told me afterwards that she is only fifteen, for women ripen early in these Eastern lands, and grow old fast. She has luxuriant black hair and dark shining eyes. On the settle was a damsel a little older than the Princess, not quite so dark, nor so handsome. She, as I afterwards found, was the Damoiselle Melisende de Courtenay,[#] a distant relative of the King, who dwells with the Princesses. Guy led me up to the Queen. [#] A fictitious person. Millicent is the modern version of this old Gothic name. It comes from Amala-suinde, and signifies _heavenly-wisdom_. "Madam," said he, "your Highness has heard me often speak of my younger sister." "Ha! the little Damoiselle Helena?"[#] replied the Queen, smiling very kindly. "Be welcome, my child. I have indeed heard much of you; this brother of yours thinks nobody like you in the world,—not even one, eh, Sir Count?—Isabel! I desire thee to make much of the Damoiselle, and let her feel herself at home. And,—Melisende! I pray thee, give order for her lodging, and let her women be seen to. Ah!—here comes another who will be glad to be acquainted with you."