'Scandal of the Court!' exclaimed his Grace, in mock horror.

'The option is yours to listen. The Queen, when young, was sweetly
pretty; a divine complexion; and a habit of smiling on everybody. I
presume that the young Habral, son of the first magistrate of Lisbon, was
also smiled on. Most innocently, I would swear! But it operated on the
wretched youth! He spent all his fortune in the purchase and decoration
of a fairy villa, bordering on the Val das Rosas, where the Court enjoyed
its rustic festivities, and one day a storm! all the ladies hurried
their young mistress to the house where the young Habral had been
awaiting her for ages. None so polished as he! Musicians started up,
the floors were ready, and torches beneath them!--there was a feast of
exquisite wines and viands sparkling. Quite enchantment. The girl-Queen
was in ecstasies. She deigned a dance with the young Habral, and then
all sat down to supper; and in the middle of it came the cry of Fire!
The Queen shrieked; the flames were seen all around; and if the arms of
the young Habral were opened to save her, or perish, could she cast a
thought on Royalty, and refuse? The Queen was saved the villa was burnt;
the young Habral was ruined, but, if I know a Portuguese, he was happy
till he died, and well remunerated! For he had held a Queen to his
heart! So that was a pic-nic!'

The Duke slightly inclined his head.

'Vrai Portughez derrendo,' he said. 'They tell a similar story in Spain,
of one of the Queens--I forget her name. The difference between us and
your Peninsular cavaliers is, that we would do as much for uncrowned
ladies.'