aggressive hand."

"Are the people king?" she asked, with coy insinuation. "Do they know
best for England's good? Nay, Sire, for your good and theirs, I beseech,
no more royal sympathy for Holland. I speak to avoid entanglements for
King Charles and to make his reign the greater. I love you, Sire." She
fell upon her knee. "I speak for the glory of England."

His Majesty was influenced by her beauty and her arts,--what man would
not be?--but more by the sense of what she said.

"For the glory of England?" he asked himself. "True, my people are
wrong. 'Tis better we remain aloof. No wars!"

He took the seat by the table, which the Duchess offered him, and
scanned casually the parchment which she handed to him.

Nell peered between the curtains. Strings was close behind her.

"Bouillon's signature for France," mused the King. "'Tis well! No more
sympathy for the Dutch, Louise, until Holland sends a beauty to our
court to outshine France's ambassador."

He looked at Portsmouth, smiled and signed the instrument, which had
been prepared, as he thought, in accordance with his wishes and
directions. He then carelessly tossed the sand over the signature to
blot it.

The fair Duchess's eyes revealed all the things which all the adjectives
of all the lands ever meant.

"Holland may outshine in beauty, Sire," she said, kneeling by the King's
side, "but not in sacrifice and love." She kissed his hand fervently.

He sat complacently looking into her eyes, scarce mindful of her
insinuating arts of love. He was fascinated with her, it is true; but it
was with her beauty, flattery and sophistry, not her heart.

"I believe thou dost love England and her people's good," he said,
finally. "Thy words art wise."

Portsmouth leaned fondly over his shoulder.

"One more request," she said, with modest mien, "a very little one,
Sire."

The King laughed buoyantly.

"Nay, an I stay here," he said, "thy beauty will win my kingdom! What is
thy little wish, sweet sovereign?"

"No more Parliaments in England, Sire," she said, softly.

"What, woman!" he exclaimed, rising, half-aghast, half-humorous, at the
suggestion; for he too had an opinion of Parliament.

"To cross the sway of thy great royal state-craft," she continued,
quickly following up the advantage which her woman's wit taught her she
had gained. "The people's sufferings from taxation spring from
Parliament only, Sire."

"'Tis true," agreed Charles, decisively.

Po