"You must see it all without looking," I suggested, and Mary helped me
out by saying:--

"It is all tinsel, not worth looking at. That is the quality of all you
will see at court; gold foil, king and all."

Presently I saw the gentlemen removing their hats and tucking them under
their arms, so I knew the king had entered, and felt sure he would soon
come up to salute his hostess, the duchess, near whom we were standing.

I told Frances that she was about to meet the king, and admonished her to
keep a strong heart. She smiled as she answered:--

"I think I have met him already." Then she told us briefly of her
encounter with the tipsy gentleman in the Stone Gallery.

She had entirely recovered her self-possession and was prepared to meet
calmly the man who was a demigod to millions of English subjects.

The queen did not come with the king, so he loitered a moment among the
courtiers before making his way to the duchess, but the delay was short,
and soon he presented himself. The duchess rose when he approached, but
hardly allowed him time to finish his bow till she took his arm, turned
toward us, and smiled to Frances to approach. I touched my cousin's arm,
gently thrusting her forward, and the next moment she was courtesying to
the floor before the man who believed, in common with most of his
subjects, that he owned by divine right the body and soul of every
man in England, together with every man's ox and his ass, his wife and
his daughter, and all that to him belonged.