But all things must have an end, and so in time Tom Canty was in a
condition to get out of bed. The proper official poured water, the
proper official engineered the washing, the proper official stood by with
a towel, and by-and-by Tom got safely through the purifying stage and was
ready for the services of the Hairdresser-royal. When he at length
emerged from this master's hands, he was a gracious figure and as pretty
as a girl, in his mantle and trunks of purple satin, and purple-plumed
cap. He now moved in state toward his breakfast-room, through the midst
of the courtly assemblage; and as he passed, these fell back, leaving his
way free, and dropped upon their knees.

After breakfast he was conducted, with regal ceremony, attended by his
great officers and his guard of fifty Gentlemen Pensioners bearing gilt
battle-axes, to the throne-room, where he proceeded to transact business
of state. His 'uncle,' Lord Hertford, took his stand by the throne, to
assist the royal mind with wise counsel.

The body of illustrious men named by the late King as his executors
appeared, to ask Tom's approval of certain acts of theirs--rather a form,
and yet not wholly a form, since there was no Protector as yet. The
Archbishop of Canterbury made report of the decree of the Council of
Executors concerning the obsequies of his late most illustrious Majesty,
and finished by reading the signatures of the Executors, to wit: the
Archbishop of Canterbury; the Lord Chancellor of England; William Lord
St. John; John Lord Russell; Edward Earl of Hertford; John Viscount
Lisle; Cuthbert Bishop of Durham--

Tom was not listening--an earlier clause of the document was puzzling
him. At this point he turned and whispered to Lord Hertford--