em down, and so they were
saved for the benefit of future ages."

"What do people think," said Charlie, "about my waking up my daughter,
instead of taking the trouble to write down my poetry myself?"

"How could you, when you are stone-blind? And of what great consequence
was it that one common-place girl should sleep an hour or two later in
the morning, when such strains as yours were in question? A dutiful
daughter would feel honored by acting as your amanuensis, even in the
night season. True, the girl did grumble occasionally, being afflicted
with some portion of human weakness; and those who do not love inspiring
strains have called you cross, in consequence. But you should no more
regard these things than Samson--your own Samson Agonistes--caved for
the mockings of the Philistines."

"Of man's first disobedience"--began Charlie. "Hurrah! I feel quite
elevated since I have become Miltonic. And yet, do you know, I would
rather wear a strait-waistcoat than try long to sustain such a character
as that. I couldn't do it, indeed."

"I think you could not," replied Tom. "Now tell us whose speech gave you
the first impression of being Milton?"

"Oh, Amy's, to be sure. So go out, little Amy, and we'll try to find
some very angelic character for you to fill."

When Amy returned, Anna spoke: "What remarkable worldly prosperity! And
yet, though a strikingly handsome woman, with polished manners, and
Italian craftiness, you do not look happy."

"I am not--my heart is not at ease."

"Nor your conscience either," rejoined Charlie. "Unless you have found
some way to polish that, to make it match your face and manners, I
should think your majesty might find your conscience rather a
disagreeable companion."

"My majesty is not accustomed to rebuke."

"I know it--and if I were in France, I should fear that some of your
Italian powders might be sprinkled in my food or wine, in consequence.
But I wonder when I think of you--a simple duke's daughter--being raised
to the throne; and not only that, but of your ruling so absolutely over
the three kings, your sons. Mother-in-law to one of the greatest kings
of France, and to the most renowned of beautiful, suffering queens, what
more do you want to make you celebrated?"

"One thing only," answered Amy. "The Massacre of St. Bartholomew will
carry my name down to posterity. My daughter-in-law, Mary, Queen of
Scotts, was interesting, but I am great. She could kill one husband: I,