ried he, with some pretence of anger,
rising abruptly, followed, of course, in each move and grimace by his
courtier-apes, in their desire to please. "Are we to be out-done in our
own realm by this usurper with a brogue? Ha! The fiddlers! Madame, I
claim the honour of this fair hand for the dance."

At the sound of the music, he had stepped gallantly forward, taking the
hostess's hand.

"My thanks, gallant masker," replied the Duchess, pretending not to know
him for flattery's sake, "but I am--"

To her surprise, she had no opportunity to complete the sentence.

"Engaged! Engaged!" interposed Nell, coming unceremoniously between
them, with swaggering assumption and an eye-shot at the King through the
portal of her mask. "Forsooth, some other time, strange sir."

The hostess stood horrified.

"Pardon, Sir Masker," she hastened to explain; "but the dance was
pledged--"

"No apologies, Duchess," replied the King, as he turned away,
carelessly, with the reflection: "All's one to me at this assemblage."

He crossed the room, turning an instant to look, with a humorous,
quizzical glance, at Portsmouth. Nell mistook the glance for a jealous
one and, perking up quickly, caught the royal eye with a challenging
eye, tapping her sword-hilt meaningly. Had the masks been off, the
situation would have differed. As it was, the King smiled indifferently.
The episode did not affect him further than to touch his sense of
humour. Nell turned triumphantly to her partner.

"Odsbud," she exclaimed, with a delicious, youthful swagger, "we may
have to measure swords in your behalf, dear hostess. I trow the fellow
loves you."

"Have a care," whispered the Duchess, nervously. "It is the King."

"What care I for a king?" saucily replied Nell, with a finger-snap. She
had taken good care, however, to speak very low. "My arm, my arm,
Duchess!" she continued, with a gallant step. "Places, places; or the
music will outstrip us."

"Strut on, my pretty bantam," thought Buckingham, whose eyes lost little
that might be turned to his own advantage; "I like you well."

There was no mending things at this stage by an apology. The Duchess,
therefore, tactfully turned the affair into one of mirth, in which she
was quickly joined by her guests. With a merry laugh, she took the Irish
gallant's proffered arm, and together they led the dance. The King
picked a lady indifferently from among the maskers.

It was a graceful old English measure. Nell'