traitors to our country in helping the
French king, but we knew that in the end he would buy Dunkirk from our
spendthrift monarch, and that out country's loss would be no greater by
reason of our gain. Therefore I wrote George as follows:--

"DEAR FRIEND:

"The Duchess of Hearts is eager and confident. Write at once, giving full
directions.

"YOUR FRIEND."

Frances added a postscript in cipher, but I shall not translate it.

One morning, some three weeks after sending my letter, Frances came to me
in my closet in the Wardrobe, and I saw at once she was in great trouble.
Her eyes were red with weeping, and the woebegone expression of her face
would have been amusing had I not known that some good cause was back of
it. As soon as she entered I saw that she was going to speak, but closets
in Whitehall have ears, so I placed my finger on my lips to enjoin
silence, and spoke loud enough to be heard if any one was listening:--

"Ah, Frances, I forgot that I had promised to go with you to your
father's this morning. Wait for me at Holbein's Gate. I'll be there in
ten minutes."

Within the promised time I found Frances at Holbein's Gate, and we walked
up to Charing Cross, thence down the Strand toward Temple Bar.

"What is the trouble, Frances?" I asked, anxious to hear her news, which
I feared was bad. She was in great distress, and I saw that a flood of
tears was ready to accompany her tale of woe, so I said hurriedly: "Don't
cry. Laugh while you speak. You will attract less attention."

She tried to laugh, but the effort was piteous and became a failure, as
she said:--

"George Hamilton has sailed for Canada, and my heart is broken."

Again she tried to smile, but the smile never reached her eyes, for they
were full of tears.

"How do you know?" I asked, almost stunned by the news.

She tried to stay her tears, but failed, and answered between sobs: "Last
night at the queen's ball, the king showed me a letter sent by order of
the French king, saying that George had sailed from Bordeaux for Canada
nearly a fortnight ago. I could not help showing my grief, and the king,
who was boisterously happy, said: 'Now you will forget him and listen to
me.' I smiled, but it was a poor effort, and he smiled, showing his
yellow fangs as he left me. I pray God that I may never be called upon to
hate another man as I hate him."

"I can hardly believe that George has gone to Canada without notifying
us," I said.

"Yes, I f