ll those who love
his high heart, his crowned head, find pity for him in theirs. For many
there are who do better, having no occasion to do as ill; but there can
be none who mean better, for none have such great motions.'

Milo might have spared his breath. The Queen had heard one phrase of all
his speech, and during the rest had pondered that. When he had done, she
said, 'Fetch me in this lady. I would speak with her.'

'Breast shall touch breast here,' said Milo to himself, full of hope,
'and mouth meet mouth. Courage, old heart.'

When the tall girl was brought in Queen Berengere did not look at her,
nor make any response to her deep reverence; but bade her fetch a mirror
from the table. In this she looked at herself steadily for some time,
smoothing and coiling back her hair, arranging her neck-covering so as
to show something of her bosom, and so on. She sent Jehane for boxes of
unguent, her colour-boxes, brush for the eyebrows, powder for the face.
Finally she had brought to her a little crown of diamonds, and set it in
her hair. After patting her head and turning it about and about, she put
the glass down and made a long survey of Jehane.

'They do well,' she said, 'who call you sulky: you have a sulky mouth.
I allow your shape; but there are reasons for that. You are very tall;
you have a long throat. Green eyes are my detestation--fie, turn them
from me. Your hair is wonderful, and your skin. I suppose women of the
North are so commonly. Come nearer.' Jehane obeying, the Queen touched
her neck, then her cheek. 'Show me your teeth,' she said. 'They are
strong and good, but much larger than mine. Your hands are big, and so
are your ears; you do well to cover them. Let me see your foot.' She
peeped over the edge of the bed; Jehane put her foot out. 'It is not so
large as I expected,' said the Queen, 'but much larger than mine.' Then
she sighed and threw herself back. 'You are certainly a very tall girl.
And twenty-three years old? I am not twenty yet, and have had fifty
lovers. The Abbot of Poictiers said you were beautiful. Do you think
yourself so?'

'It is not my part to think of it, Madame,' said Jehane, holding herself
rather stiffly.

'You mean that you know it too well,' said Berengere. 'I suppose it is
true. You have a fine colour and a fine person--but that is a woman's.
Now look at me carefully, and say how you find me. Put your hand here,
and here, and here. Touch my hair; look well at my eyes. My