Charles II. was busily engaged in proving, or in endeavoring to prove, to Miss Stewart, that she was the only person for whom he cared at all, and consequently he was swearing for her an affection similar to that which his ancestor Henry IV. had entertained for Gabrielle. Unfortunately for Charles II. he had hit upon an unlucky day, upon a day when Miss Stewart had taken it into her head to make him jealous, and therefore, instead of being touched by his offer, as the king had hoped, she laughed heartily. "Oh! sire, sire," she cried, laughing all the while; "if I were to be unfortunate enough to ask you for a proof of the affection you profess, how easy it would be to see that you are telling a falsehood."
"Nay, listen to me," said Charles, "you know my cartoons by Raphael; you know whether I care for them or not; the whole world envies me their possession, as you well know also; my father got Vandyck to purchase them. Would you like me to send them to your house this very day?"
"Oh! no," replied the young girl; "pray keep them yourself, sire; my house is far too small to accommodate such visitors."
"In that case you shall have Hampton Court to put the cartoons in."
"Be less generous, sire, and learn to love a little while longer, that is all I have to ask you."
"I shall never cease to love you; is not that enough?"
"You are laughing, sire."
"Do you wish me to weep, then?"
"No; but I should like to see you a little more melancholy."
"Thank Heaven, I have been so long enough; fourteen years of exile, poverty, and misery, I think I may well regard it is a debt discharged; besides, melancholy makes people look so plain."