“It is true, madam,” said Rochester, bowing in his turn, “that Parry is the model of servants; but, madam, he is no longer young, and we laugh only when we see cheerful objects. Is an old man a gay object?” “Enough, my lord,” said the princess, coolly; “the subject of conversation is unpleasant to me.” Then, as if speaking to herself, “It is really unaccountable,” said she, “how little regard my brother’s friends have for his servants.” “Ah, madam,” cried Buckingham, “your royal highness pierces my heart with a dagger forged by your own hands.” “What is the meaning of that speech, which is turned so like a French madrigal, duke? I do not understand it.” “It means, madam, that you yourself, so good, so charming, so sensible, you have laughed sometimes—smiled, I should say—at the idle prattle of that good Parry, for whom your royal highness to-day entertains such a marvelous susceptibility.” “Well, my lord, if I have forgotten myself so far,” said Henrietta, “you do wrong to remind me of it.” And she made a sign of impatience. “The good Parry wants to speak to me, I believe: please order them to row to the shore, my Lord Rochester.” Rochester hastened to repeat the princess’s command; and a moment later the boat touched the bank. “Let us land, gentlemen,” said Henrietta, taking the arm which Rochester offered her, although Buckingham was nearer to her, and had presented his. Then Rochester, with an ill-dissembled pride, which pierced the heart of the unhappy Buckingham through and through, led the princess across the little bridge which the rowers had cast from the royal boat to the shore. “Which way will your royal highness go?” asked Rochester. “You see, my lord, towards that good Parry, who is wandering, as my lord of Buckingham says, and seeking me with eyes weakened by the tears he has shed over our misfortunes.” “Good heavens!” said Rochester, “how sad your royal highness is to-day; in truth we seem ridiculous fools to you, madam.” “Speak for yourself, my lord,” interrupted Buckingham with vexation; “for my part, I displease her royal highness to such a degree, that I appear absolutely nothing to her.” Neither Rochester nor the princess made any reply; Henrietta only urged her companion more quickly on. Buckingham remained behind, and took advantage of this isolation to give himself up to his anger; he bit his handkerchief so furiously that it was soon in shreds. “Parry my good Parry,” said the princess, with her gentle voice, “come hither. I see you are seeking me, and I am waiting for you.” “Ah, madam,” said Rochester, coming charitably to the help of his companion, who had remained, as we have said, behind, “if Parry cannot see your royal highness, the man who follows him is a sufficient guide, even for a blind man, for he has eyes of flame. That man is a double-lamped lantern.”