[#] This is King Richard's costume in the Golden Book of St. Albans.
Something in the face won Roger's heart. What it was he did not know himself. It was, in truth, a vague remembrance of that fair young mother who had passed away from him so early, and a likeness to whom he detected without recognising it, in the face before him. An affectionate smile from the royal cousin completed his conquest of the heart of Roger Mortimer.
"He will do, in very truth," said the King, answering his mother first: then he turned to Roger. "Be right welcome, fair Cousin: I trust to see more of you in time coming."
"Sir," asked Roger, looking up, "be you Lord Richard the King?"
"Even so, fair Cousin. What can I do to pleasure you?"
Natures like those of Roger Mortimer are always capable of intense hero-worship. And Roger had found his hero. He dropped on one knee without any prompting.
"Then, Sire, I will live and die with you!"
The King unfastened from his chain of rubies a golden broom-pod wrought with green enamel. It was one of his own badges.
"Then shalt thou be mine own man, by thy covenant," said he, smiling, and attaching the badge to Roger's gold chain: "and thereto is my token."
"Why, well said!" interpolated the Princess, who seemed unable to keep silence long. "Come hither, little Cousin—here, set a stool for my Lord of March,—and tell me how it liketh thee to dwell with my Lord of Arundel."