s speech. It was the
reward of a wit-thrust from Nell.

"The Piper the maids would now unmask?" queried Portsmouth, rapturously.
"Marry, 'tis the fascinating Beau Adair of Cork, entertaining the
ladies. Oh, he is a love, Sire; he does not sulk in corners. See! See!"

She pointed toward the archway, through which Nell was plainly visible.
She was strutting jauntily back and forth upon the promenade. It is
unnecessary to say that she was escorted by the assembled fair ones.

As Nell caught the eye of the hostess in the distance, she gaily tossed
a kiss to her.

"'Sdeath, that I were a woman to hope for one of his languishing
smiles," observed Buckingham.

"Even the old hens run at his call," sneered the pious James, in
discontent; for he too had been deserted by his ladylove and even before
the others.

The King looked at his brother with an air of bantering seriousness, to
the delight of all assembled.

"Brother James is jealous of the old ones only," he observed. "You know
his favourites are given him by his priests for penance."

A merry ripple ran through the group.

The hostess took advantage of the King's speech to make a point.

"And you are jealous of the young ones only," she said, slyly, quickly
adding as a bid for jealousy: "Pooh, pooh! _Le Beau_ had letters to
me, Sire. Nay, we do not love him very much. We have not as yet had
time."

"Alas, alas," sighed Charles, with drooping countenance, "that it should
come to this."

"My liege, I protest--" cried Portsmouth, hastily, fearful lest she
might have gone too far. "To-night is the first I ever saw the youth. I
adore you, Sire."

"Not a word!" commanded Charles, with mock-heroic mien. He waved his
hand imperatively to his followers. "Friends," he continued, "we will
mix masks and dominoes and to't again to drown our sorrow."

"In the Thames?" inquired James, facetiously for him.

"Tush! In the punch-bowl, pious brother!" protested the Merry Monarch,
with great dignity. "You know, a very little water will drown even a
king."

The gallants mixed masks and dominoes in obedience to the royal wish.
The King, sighing deeply, cast a hopeless glance at Portsmouth, not
without its tinge of humour. He then sauntered slowly toward the windows
of the great ball-room, followed subserviently by all the courtiers,
save Buckingham, who was lost in converse with player Hart.

"Hark ye," suddenly broke off Buckingham, observing the approach of
Adair and his