tharine Howard, kneeling at her
feet, with an inclination of the head so tiny that you could not see
the motion. Her eyes remained motionlessly upon the girl's face; only
the lids moved suddenly when Katharine spoke to her in German.

'You speak my tongue?' the Queen asked, motionless still and speaking
very low. Katharine remained upon her knees.

'I learned to read books in German when I was a child,' Katharine
said; 'and since you came I have spoken an hour a day with a German
astronomer that I might give you pleasure if so be it chanced.'

'So it is well,' the Queen said. 'Not many have so done.'

'God has endowed me with an ease of tongues,' Katharine answered;
'many others would have ventured it for your Grace's pleasure. But
your tongue is a hard tongue.'

'I have needed to learn hard sentences in yours,' the Queen said, 'and
have had many masters many hours of the day. I will have you stand up
upon your feet.'

Katharine remained upon her knees.

'I will have you stand up upon your feet,' the Queen repeated.

'I have a prayer to make,' Katharine answered.

The Queen looked for a minute straight before her, then slowly turned
her head to one side. When her gaze rested upon her women they rose
and, with a clatter of their feet and a rustle of garments, carrying
their white sewings and their spinning-wheels stilled, went away down
the gallery. The German lord of Overstein, bearded and immense in the
then German fashion, came from behind the retreating women to stand
before the Queen signifying that he would offer his interpretership.
She dismissed him without speaking, letting her eyes rest upon him.
She was the most silent woman in the world, but all people said that
no queen had women and men servers that needed fewer words or so
discreetly did their devoirs.

The silence and the bright light of the sun swathed these two women's
figures, so that Katharine seemed to hear the flutter against the
window-glass of a brown butterfly that, having sheltered in the hall
all winter, now sought to take a part in the new brightness of the
world. Katharine kept her knees, her eyes upon the floor; the Queen,
motionless and soft, let her eyes rest upon Katharine's hood. From
time to time they travelled to her face, to the medallion that hung
from her neck, and to her dark green skirt of velvet that lay around
her upon the floor. The butterfly sought another window; the Queen
spoke at last.

'You seek my queenship'