candor
which was the charm of the King's regard.

Robert greeted his adorers with a salutation that was in itself an act
of grace, and made an amiable gesture with his hand which immediately
summoned to him those of the court ladies who for the moment were warmed
by his more immediate favor.

They fluttered about him in an instant, tremulous as brilliant
butterflies hovering around a royal rose: Faustina, with the proud face
of a Roman marble; Messalinda, with the fair hair of some witch-woman of
the North; Yolande, the exquisite French girl with the brown hair and
the brown eyes--Yolande so envied of all the others, as being, as it
seemed, the latest in the King's favor, the nearest in the King's grace.
Robert caught Faustina and Messalinda round the waist and drew them for
a moment tenderly to him, serenely indifferent to the presence of
spectators, many of whom were ministers of the Church, while he shot a
mocking smile at Yolande, who modestly lowered her lids. Then he
released his laughing, delighted captives, and snatched a fan from
Yolande's fingers, with which he fanned himself languishingly.

"Surely this hill is as high as heaven," he complained. "Of a truth, we
should wear the wings of angels for these adventures into cloud-land."

Messalinda gave him an extravagant bow and a yet more extravagant
simper.

"Your Majesty has all the other attributes of angelhood," she averred.

Faustina hastened to offer her own tribute of flattery to the pleased
Prince.

"Would you leave nothing to the celestials, sire?"

The bright face of the King smiled infinite approval of her speech.

"In truth," he said, "if they were like me at all points they might
become too vain for the courts of heaven."

It was now Yolande's turn to weave her flower of praise into the royal
garland.

"The celestials had better abide in the courts of heaven, for if they
came to earth they could never hope to rival Sicily."

Her brown eyes glowed more adoration than her words. Robert, advancing
towards her and taking her by the chin, peered into their depths with a
perverse smile that made the girl quiver.

"Your lips drop honey," he said, lightly. "But you must linger for your
reward. I kiss out of court to-night."

At this insolent announcement the favorites exchanged rapid glances.
Faustina spoke first and swiftly.

"One smile from the King's eyes is sufficing payment for his poor
servants."

Messalinda came quickly at her hee