French hussy! So she gives a ball?" she thought. "Well, well, I'll
be there! I'll teach her much. Oh, I'll be pretty, too, aye, very
pretty. No fear yet of rivalry or harm for England."

Charles watched her amusedly, earnestly, lovingly. The vixen had fallen
unconsciously into imitating again the Duchess's foreign ways, as an
accompaniment even for her thoughts.

"_Sans doute_, we shall, _madame_" Nell muttered audibly, with
much gesticulating and a mocking accent. "_A mon bal! Pas adieu, mais
au revoir_."

The King came closer.

"Are you ill," he asked, "that you do mutter so and wildly act?"

"I was only thinking that, if I were a man," she said, turning toward
him playfully, "I would love your Duchess to devotion. Her wit is so
original, her repartee so sturdy. Your Majesty's taste in horses--and
some women--is excellent."

She crossed the room gaily and threw herself laughing upon the bench.
The King followed her.

"Heaven help the being, naughty Nell," he said, "who offends thy merry
tongue; but I love thee for it." He sat down beside her in earnest
adoration, then caught her lovingly in his arms.

"Love me?" sighed Nell, scarce mindful of the embrace. "Ah, Sire, I am
but a plaything for the King at best, a caprice, a fancy--naught else."

"Nay, sweet," said Charles, "you have not read this heart."

"I have read it too deeply," replied Nell, with much meaning in her
voice. "It is this one to-day, that one to-morrow, with King Charles.
Ah, Sire, your love for the poor player-girl is summed up in three
little words: 'I amuse you!'"

"Amuse me!" exclaimed Charles, thoughtfully. "Hark ye, Nell! States may
marry us; they cannot make us love. Ye Gods, the humblest peasant in my
realm is monarch of a heart of his own choice. Would I were such a
king!"

"What buxom country lass," asked Nell, sadly but wistfully, "teaches
your fancy to follow the plough, my truant master?"

"You forget: I too," continued Charles, "have been an outcast, like
Orange Nell, seeking a crust and bed."

He arose and turned away sadly to suppress his emotion. He was not the
King of England now: he was a man who had suffered; he was a man among
men.

"Forgive me, Sire," said Nell, tenderly, as a woman only can speak, "if
I recall unhappy times."

"Unhappy!" echoed Charles, while Fancy toyed with Recollection. "Nell,
in those dark days, I learned to read the human heart. God taught me
then the distinction 'twixt friend and enemy.