"Now I'll send for the Mother of the Maids," said her Grace, "who will show you to your rooms and instruct you in the duties, forms, and ceremonies of court. I suppose you dance the country dances. They are the king's favorites. He calls the changes." "Yes, your Grace," answered Frances. "And the brantle and the coranto?" asked the duchess. "Yes, your Grace." "And do you play cards?" "Yes, your Grace, but I loathe games." "Ah, I see you're equipped," said the duchess. "But here comes the Mother of the Maids." The duchess presented Frances to the Mother, who presently led her forth across the threshold of a new life, destined to be filled with many strange happenings. After leaving the Duchess of York, Frances and the Mother of the Maids entered the Stone Gallery, half the length of which they would have to traverse before reaching the door that entered the narrow corridor leading to the apartments of the maids of honor. Midway in the gallery, a man, evidently in wine, accosted Frances without so much as removing his hat. "Ah, ah! Whom have we here?" he asked, winking to the Mother of the Maids. Frances was astonished and a little frightened, but she soon brought herself together and retorted:-- "What is it to you, sir, whom we have here?" At once it occurred to Frances that the impertinent man was either the king or the duke, but she hid her suspicion. "Much it is to me, fair mistress," returned the gentleman, taking off his hat and bowing. "The sun shines for all, and when one dare be as beautiful as yourself, all men may bask in the radiance and may ask, 'What new luminary is this?'" "You may bask to your heart's content," retorted Frances, laughing, "but you must know that it does not please the sun to be stopped by an unprepossessing stranger." The Mother's face bore a look of consternation, and the gentleman threw back his head, laughing uproariously. "Ah, my beauty, but I would not remain a stranger. If I am unprepossessing, it is because I am as God made me and I cannot help it. But I can help being a stranger to you and would make myself known, and would present my compliments to--" "To the devil, who perhaps may like your impertinence better than I like it," retorted Frances, turning from him angrily and hastening toward the opposite end of the gallery. When Frances reached the door of the corridor, she looked back and saw the Mother of the Maids listening attentively to the gentleman. He was laughing heartily, and when the Mother left him, Frances noticed that she courtesied almost to the floor, a ceremony little used save with the king, the queen, the duke, and the duchess. When the door of the gallery was closed behind Frances, she asked the Mother:-- "Who is the impudent fellow?" "He? Why, he--is--why, he is Sir Rowley," answered the Mother, hesitatingly, and Frances knew that she had won her first round with the king, though she kept her knowledge to herself. CHAPTER IV A SMILE AT THE DEVIL