rt and a deep courtesy by the
lady.

I confess that I was uneasy, for Frances was a country girl, and the
coranto was the most trying, though, if well done, the most beautiful of
all dances.

Mary clasped my hand in alarm for Frances and whispered: "I do hope she
dances well. The lack of grace in a woman is inexcusable. She had better
not dance at all than poorly."

Mary's hopes were realized at once, for the king and Frances had not been
on the floor three minutes till the gentlemen began to clap their hands
softly, and in a moment a round of applause came from the entire
audience, as often happened in those informal balls.

The king turned to Frances, saying: "They are applauding your dancing.
Take your bow."

"No, it's all for your Majesty," she returned.

"No, no, my dancing is an old story to them. It is your grace they are
applauding."

"Spare me, your Majesty," she pleaded, laughing.

As the applause continued, they stopped dancing for a moment, and Frances
made her courtesy to the audience. Thereupon the applause increased, and
she courtesied again, kissing her hand as she rose from the floor.

The girl was in high spirits, and laughed as she talked to the king, who
smiled on her in a manner that caused my Lady Castlemain to remark:--

"The young milkmaid's affectations are disgusting." Other equally
flattering remarks were to be heard from women of the Castlemain stamp,
but the men were a unit in praising the new beauty.

Of course the king soon declared his undying love for her, and she
answered, laughing:--

"If your Majesty will swear by your grandmother's great toe that you have
never before spoken to a woman in this fashion, I'll listen and believe,
but failing the oath, you must pardon me if I laugh."

"I hope you would not laugh at your king?" he asked.

"Ay, at the Pope," she retorted, "if I found him amusing."

"But if I swear by the sacred relic you name, never again so long as I
live to speak in this fashion to any other woman, may I proceed?"
returned the king.

"I would not be a party to an oath whereby my king would be forsworn,"
she answered.

To which the king replied: "I shall say what I please to my most devoted
subject. Am I not the king?"

"I am content that you say what you please if you grant me the same
privilege," answered Frances.

The king laughed and said he would gladly grant the privilege in private,
but that in public he had a "damnable dignity" to uphold.