The unsuspecting landlord re-entered at this moment, wine in hand, which he proceeded to place upon the table.
“What do you mean, knave, by this treachery!” almost shrieked the King at sight of him. “Another plate, dost hear; another plate, dog!”
“Bless me,” explained the landlord, in confusion, “you said supper for two, sir; that a man was a fool who dined more; that the third was expensive and in the way.”
“Villain!” cried Charles, in a hopeless effort to suppress the fellow, “I said two-two–beside myself. I never count myself in the presence of these ladies.”
The landlord beat a hasty retreat.
The Duchess smiled a chilling smile, and asked complacently:
“Which one of us did you expect, Sire?”
“Yes, which did you expect, Sire?” laughed Nell.
“Oh, my head,” groaned Charles; “well, well,–you see–Duchess, the matter lies in this wise–”
“Let me help your Majesty,” generously interrupted Nell. “Her ladyship is ill at figures. You see, Charles and I are one, and you make two, Duchess.”