"You have not told us yet what you did this afternoon," cried Peggie, to whom her cousin’s triumphs always gave intense and unselfish enjoyment. "After dinner, the duchess dismissed her guests, and accompanied by Lady Limerick and myself, drove to Kensington Palace, where we had audience of the queen. Her Majesty was extremely gracious, and appeared to have forgotten all my peccadilloes. She inquired if I still played the guitar, and when I sang one or two ballads composed by Herr Haendel—whose music is now quite the rage—was pleased to observe that I must come to Windsor in the summer, and sing to her in the twilight. After that we played basset. ’Twas a dull finish to the day, for the queen fell asleep and nobody dared waken her, so the game was not very lively." "If you go to Windsor, ’twill be as lady-in-waiting, surely," said Peggie. "The duchess will do her utmost for me, but she is less powerful than formerly. Mrs. Masham, whom she placed about the queen’s person to further her interests, has completely secured the queen’s confidence, and means to use it to her own profit. I think the duchess would like to use me to check Mrs. Masham." "Sarah Churchill would scarcely be so gracious to any one she did not expect to serve her in some fashion," said Lady Drumloch. "Well, my dear, I wish thee good fortune. Be wise this time, and do not let thy wild spirits wrong thee." Prue became suddenly pale as death. "’Tis late in the day for me to become wise," she said, in a low, wild voice. "Oh! Grannie, Grannie, I’m afraid I have given you a great deal of trouble, and the worst of me is yet to come!" The old lady raised herself on her arm, and gazed with a look of terror into Prue’s disturbed face. "What have you done, child? Let me hear the worst at once!" "’Tis nothing," interposed Peggie, putting her arm round her cousin, and drawing her gently but forcibly away. "She is excited and overwrought, and methinks she has quarreled with Sir Geoffrey—" "Is that all?" ejaculated Lady Drumloch, sinking back with a laugh that ended in a groan of pain. "I’ll forgive that easily enough; he is no choice of mine, and now Prudence is back at court, ’tis odd if she can not do better than marry a bankrupt baronet." "Better or worse," cried Prue passionately, "I’ll never marry him; I’d rather marry a—a highwayman." Peggie gave her arm a vicious pinch, but the comparison was so monstrously improbable, that Lady Drumloch did not deign to take any notice of it. "You were very much in love with Sir Geoffrey a week ago," she remarked austerely, "but your fickleness appears to have no limit."