“Grand, yes; but not good,” responded the King.
“It would be a splendid ceremony—the King going in state to open the special court royal, with all the peers and ladies in the train, and he so glorious in the ermine-lined mantle, the royal diamonds in the crown, and the gold sceptre carried before him—all the lustre beseeming your Majesty’s handsome and august countenance.”
“Do you think so?” asked the King, wavering. “It is a fact that such a sight has not been seen for a long time,” he added with affected unconcern. “I will see about it next time the Parliaments do anything vexatious.”
“They have done it, Sire,” interposed La Dubarry. “The pests have determined to hold no more law courts until your Majesty lets them have their own way.”
“Mere rumors.”
“Please your Majesty, my proctor returned me the brief and papers in my case because there would be no trial for ever so long.”
“Mere scarecrows, I tell you.”
Zamore scratched at the door, that being the way to knock when royalty is in a room, and brought a letter.
Lord High Chancellor Maupeou, hearing where the King was, solicited an interview through the countess’s good graces.
“You may stay,” said the King to Lady Bearn. “Good morning, my lord—what is the news?”