“Nay, your Grace, I am but a painter; no Rubens am I in the skill that pertains to an envoy. Still, it occurs to me that the rendering of some signal service to the one whose mood your Grace describes should bring you to her heart again.”
The Duchess sprang from her chair and began pacing the narrow limits of the dais, her hands clenched, and the expression on her face becoming one of passion solely.
“Some signal service—some signal service!” she cried. “Man, have I not grown aged in her service? Who among those around her hath shown her and hers such service as ours has been—my husband's and mine? And yet when she hears the rumour of a plot she taunts me that I was not the first to warn her. Heavens! Does it rest with me to see the word 'conspirator' branded on the flesh of one who may hap to wear a cuirass? Is there any skill that will enable mine eyes to perceive in a man's bearing an adherent to the family at St. Germains? By the Lord, Sir Godfrey Kneller, I may be tried too much. Think you that if we were to turn our eyes in the direction of St. Germains there would not be a goodly number of persons in this realm who would turn their eyes and their coats with us?”
“For God's sake, madam—”
“Nay, 't is but an abstract proposition, friend Kneller. I have wit enough to perceive that the atmosphere of France suiteth best the health of some folk. For mine own part, I like best our English air; but if—ah, continue your painting, Sir Godfrey, and see that you make mine eyes the eyes of one who looks not overseas for succour.”
Her Grace threw herself once more into the chair, and the painter resumed his work in silence. He could not but reproduce the pensive expression that once more was worn by the face of the Duchess.
At the end of half an hour she rose, complaining that she was tired. She smiled, giving her hand to Sir Godfrey, as she said.
“I know, my good friend, that it is safe to rage in your presence; you are discretion itself.”
“Your Grace hath never put my discretion to the test,” said the Court painter, with a low bow.
“The Duke will mayhap visit you to inspect the portrait, Sir Godfrey,” said the Duchess when at the door. “Pray let him know that I await him at St. James's.”