lady--and I remembered James, fifth Earl of Burlesdon.

"But never a woman!" cried the girl.

"Ay, and women, when it was too late," was the stern answer, reducing
the girl to silence and blushes.

"How comes the King here?" I asked, to break an embarrassed silence. "It
is the duke's land here, you say."

"The duke invited him, sir, to rest here till Wednesday. The duke is at
Strelsau, preparing the King's reception."

"Then they're friends?"

"None better," said the old lady.

But my rosy damsel tossed her head again; she was not to be repressed
for long, and she broke out again:

"Ay, they love one another as men do who want the same place and the
same wife!"

The old woman glowered; but the last words pricked my curiosity, and I
interposed before she could begin scolding:

"What, the same wife, too! How's that, young lady?"

"All the world knows that Black Michael--well then, mother, the
duke--would give his soul to marry his cousin, the Princess Flavia, and