ring which time my husband may try his
hand. Failing, he will smile and will withdraw to make room for Rowley's
return attack. Rowley's return will be in earnest, and then will come
your trial, for the whole court will fawn upon you, will lie about you,
and beg your favor for them with the king."

"Surely it is a delightful prospect," returned my cousin, smiling.

"Oh, delightful, delightful!" ejaculated Lady Wentworth in a semilucid
interval.

"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