id Nell.

"Why yes, very well," said the King. "For Mr Dale is, I'm very sure, a
gentleman of spirit and honour, although he seems, if I may say so, just
now rather taciturn."

"But as matters are, Mr Dale would have no more of me."

"It's not for me," said the King, "to quarrel with his resolve, although
I'm free to marvel at it."

"And asks no more of me than leave to depart."

"Do you find it hard, madame, to grant him that much?"

She looked in the King's face and laughed in amusement, but whether at
him or me or herself I cannot tell.

"Why, yes, mighty hard," said she. "It's strange how hard."

"By my faith," said the King, "I begin to be glad that Mr Dale asked no
more. For if it be hard to grant him this little thing, it might have
been easy to grant him more. Come, is it granted to him?"

"Let him ask for it again," said she, and leaving the King she came and
stood before me, raising her eyes to mine. "Would you leave me, Simon?"
she cried.

"Yes, I would leave you, madame," said I.

"To go whither?"

"I don't know."

"Yet the question isn't hard," interposed the King. "And the answer
is--elsewhere."

"Elsewhere!" cried Nell. "But what does that mean, Sir?"

"Nay, I don't know her name," said the King. "Nor, may be, does Mr Dale
yet. But he'll learn, and so, I hope, shall I, if I can be of service to
him."

"I'm in no haste to learn it," cried Nell.

"Why no," laughed the King.

She turned to me again, holding out her hand as though she challenged me
to refuse it.

"Good-bye, Simon," said she, and she broke into a strange little laugh
that seemed devoid of mirth, and to express a railing mockery of herself
and what she did.

I saw the King watching us with attentive eyes and brows bent in a
frown.

"Good-bye," said I. Looking into her eyes, I let my gaze dwell long on
her; it dwelt longer than I meant, reluctant to take last leave of old
friends. Then I kissed her hand and bowed very low to the King, who
replied with a good-natured nod; then turning I passed out of the room.

I take it that the change from youth to manhood, and again from full
manhood to decline, comes upon us gradually, never ceasing but never
swift, as mind and body alike are insensibly transformed beneath the
assault of multitudinous unperceived forces of matter and of
circumstances; it is the result we know; that, not the process, is the
reality for us. We awake to find done what our sleepy brains missed in
th