THE QUEEN’s HEALTH.
He then said it was necessary to drink the queens health. The gentlemen here made no demur, though Mr. de Luc arched his eyebrows in expressive fear of consequences.
“A bumper,” cried the duke, “to the queen’s gentleman-usher.”
They all stood up and drank the queen’s health.
“Here are three of us,” cried the duke, “all belonging to the queen: the queen’s philosopher, the queen’s gentleman usher, and the queen’s son; but, thank heaven, I’m the nearest!”
“Sir,” cried Mr. Stanhope, a little affronted, “I am not now the queen’s gentleman-usher; I am the queen’s equerry, sir.”
“A glass more of champagne here! What are you all so slow for? Where are all my rascals gone? They’ve put me in one passion already this morning. Come, a glass of champagne for the queen’s gentleman-usher!” laughing heartily.
“No, sir,” repeated Mr. Stanhope; “I am equerry, sir.”
“And another glass to the queen’s philosopher!”
Neither gentleman objected; but Mrs. Schwellenberg, who had sat laughing and happy all this time, now grew alarmed, and said, “Your royal highness, I am afraid for the ball!”