ed him uneasy. Either she was trifling with him, or else she was
behaving in a manner utterly unbecoming the future wife of the Archduke.
In either case some explanation was necessary. De Quadra must know where
he stood. Having failed to obtain an audience before the court
left London, he had followed it to Windsor, cursing all women and
contemplating the advantages of the Salic law.

He found at Windsor an atmosphere of constraint, and it was not until
the morrow that he obtained an audience with the Queen. Even then this
was due to chance rather than to design on the part of Elizabeth. For
they met on the terrace as she was returning from hunting. She dismissed
those about her, including the stalwart Robert Dudley, and, alone with
de Quadra, invited him to speak.

"Madame," he said, "I am writing to my master, and I desire to know
whether your Majesty would wish me to add anything to what you have
announced already as your intention regarding the Archduke."

She knit her brows. The wily Spaniard fenced so closely that there was
no alternative but to come to grips.

"Why, sir," she answered dryly, "you may tell his Majesty that I
have come to an absolute decision, which is that I will not marry the
Archduke."

The colour mounted to the Spaniard's sallow cheeks. Iron self-control
alone saved him from uttering unpardonable words. Even so he spoke
sternly:

"This, madame, is not what you had led me to believe when last we talked
upon the subject."

At another time Elizabeth might have turned upon him and rent him for
that speech. But it happened that she was in high good-humour that
afternoon, and disposed to indulgence. She laughed, surveying herself in
the small steel mirror that dangled from her waist.

"You are ungallant to remind me, my lord," said she. "My sex, you may
have heard, is privileged to change of mind."

"Then, madame, I pray that you may change it yet again." His tone was
bitter.

"Your prayer will not be heard. This time I am resolved."

De Quadra bowed. "The King, my master, will not be pleased, I fear."

She looked him straightly in the face, her dark eyes kindling.

"God's death!" said she, "I marry to please myself, and not the King
your master."

"You are resolved on marriage then?" flashed he.

"And it please you," she mocked him archly, her mood of joyousness
already conquering her momentary indignation.

"What pleases you must please me also, madame," he answered, in a tone