ell; "a very useful friend to
me, your Grace."

"The Torridons of Overfield?" questioned Henry once more, who never
forgot a face or a name.

"Yes, your Grace," said Cromwell.

"You are tall enough, sir," said the King, running his narrow eyes up
and down Ralph's figure;--"a strong friend."

"I hope so, your Grace," said Ralph.

The King again looked at him, and Ralph dropped his eyes in the glare of
that mighty personality. Then Henry abruptly thrust out his hand to be
kissed, and as Ralph bent over it he was aware of the thick straight
fingers, the creased wrist, and the growth of hair on the back of the
hand.

* * * * *

Ralph was astonished, and a little ashamed at his own excitement as he
passed down the stairs again. It was so little that had happened; his
own part had been so insignificant; and yet he was tingling from head to
foot. He felt he knew now a little better how it was that the King's
will, however outrageous in its purposes, was done so quickly. It was
the sheer natural genius of authority and royalty that forced it
through; he had felt himself dominated and subdued in those few moments,
so that he was not his own master. As he went home through the street or
two that separated the Palace gate from his own house, he found himself
analysing the effect of that presence, and, in spite of its repellence,
its suggestion of coarseness, and its almost irritating imperiousness,
he was conscious that there was a very strong element of attractiveness
in it too. It seemed to him the kind of attractiveness that there is for
a beaten dog in the chastising hand: the personality was so overwhelming
that it compelled allegiance, and that not wholly one of fear. He found
himself thinking of Queen Katharine and understanding a little better
how it was that the refined, delicately nurtured and devout woman, so
constant in her prayers, so full of the peculiar fineness of character
that gentle birth and religion alone confer, could so cling to this
fierce lord of hers, throw herself at his feet with tears before all the
company, and entreat not to be separated from him, calling him her "dear
lord," her "love," and her most "merciful and gracious prince."

* * * * *

The transition from this train of thought to that bearing on Beatrice
was not a difficult one; for the memory of the girl was continually in
his mind. He had seen her half a dozen times no