She had evidently no intention of saluting the monarch; and Sir Roger de Launay gazed at her in mingled surprise and admiration. She was certainly wonderfully beautiful. Her complexion had the soft clear transparency of a pink sea-shell--her eyes, large and lustrous, were as densely blue as the dark azure in the depths of a wave,--and her hair, of a warm bronze chestnut, caught back with a single band of red coral, seemed to have gathered in its rich curling clusters all the deepest tints of autumn leaves flecked with a golden touch of the sun. Her figure, clad in a straight garment of rough white homespun, was the model of perfect womanhood. She stood a little above the medium height, her fair head poised proudly on regal shoulders, while the curve of the full bosom would have baffled the sculptural genius of a Phidias. The whole exquisite outline of her person was the expressed essence of beauty, from the lightest wave of her hair, down to her slender ankles and small feet; and the look that irradiated her noble features was that of child-like happiness and repose,--the untired expression of one who had never known any other life than the innocent enjoyment bestowed upon her by God and divine Nature. Beautiful as his Queen-Consort was and always had been, the King was forced to admit to himself that here was a woman far more beautiful,--and as he looked upon her critically, he saw that there was a light and splendour about her which only the happiness of Love can give. Her whole aspect was as of one uplifted into a finer atmosphere than that of earth,--she seemed to exhale purity from herself, as a rose exhales perfume, and her undisturbed serenity and dignity, when made aware of the Royal presence, were evidently not the outcome of ill-breeding or discourtesy, but of mere self-respect and independence. He approached her with a strange hesitation, which for him was quite a new experience. “I am glad I have been fortunate enough to meet you!” he said gently;--“Some kindly fate guided my steps down the path which brought me to this part of the shore, else I might have gone away without seeing you!” “That would have been no loss to your Majesty,” answered Gloria calmly;--“For to see me, is of no use to anyone!” “Would your husband say so?” hazarded the King with a smile. Her eyes flashed. “My husband would say what is right,” she replied. “He would know better how to talk to you than I do!” He had insensibly drawn nearer to her as he spoke; meanwhile Von Glauben, with a disconsolate air, had joined Sir Roger de Launay, who, by an enquiring look and anxious uplifting of his eyebrows, dumbly asked what was to be the upshot of this affair,--only to receive a dismal shake of the head in reply. “Possibly I know your husband,” went on the King, anxious to continue conversation with so beautiful a creature. “If I do, and he is in my personal service, he shall not lack promotion! Will you tell me his name?”