mping card
house-building maids of honour, or splendid viragoes who raved and
stamped and poured forth oaths as fishwives do. How did he know it--and
many other things also? He knew it as children always know things their
elders do not suspect them of remarking, but which, falling upon their
little ears sink deep into their tiny minds, and lying there like seeds
in rich earth, put forth shoots and press upwards until they pierce
through the darkness and flower and bear fruit in the light of day. He
knew that a certain great Duchess of Portsmouth had been sent over from
France by King Louis to gain something from King Charles, who had
fallen in love with her. The meaning of "falling in love" he was yet
vague in his understanding of, but he knew that the people hated her
because they thought she played tricks and would make trouble for
England if she led the King as she tried to do. The common people
called her "Madame Carwell," that being their pronunciation of the
French name she had borne before she had been made a Duchess. He had
once heard his nurses Alison and Grace gossiping together of a great
service of gold the King had given her, and which, when it had been on
exhibition, had made the people so angry that they had said they would
like to see it melted and poured down her throat. "If he must give it,"
they had grumbled, "he had better have bestowed it upon Madame Ellen."

Hearing this, my lord Marquess had left his playing and gone to the
women, where they stood enjoying their gossip and not thinking of him.
He stood and looked up at Alison in his grave little way.

"Who is Madame Ellen, Alison?" he inquired.

"Good Lord!" the woman exclaimed, aside to her companion.

"Why do the people like her better than the other?" he persisted.

At this moment Mistress Halsell entered the nursery, and her keen eye
saw at once that his young Lordship had put some question to his
attendants which they scarce knew how to answer.

"What does my lord Marquess ask, Grace?" she said; and my lord Marquess
turned and looked at herself.

"I heard them speak of Madame Ellen," he answered. "They said something
about some pretty things made of gold and that the people were angry
that they were for her Grace of Portsmouth instead of Madame Ellen. Why
do they like her better?"

Mistress Halsell took his hand and walked with him to their favourite
seat in the big window.

"It is because she is the better woman of the two, my lord