"Above me!" said Rebecca, straightening up stiffly. "There ain't anybody put above me at home, I can tell you. Ef the' was, I'd put 'em down mighty quick, I guess."
Elizabeth raised her brows and, leaning toward the lord treasurer, who stood at her side, she said in an undertone:
"This must be some sovereign princess in her own country, my lord. How comes it I have not had earlier intelligence of her arrival in this realm?"
Lord Burleigh bowed profoundly and mumbled something about its being out of his immediate province—he would have investigation made—etc., etc.
The Queen cut him short a little impatiently.
"Let it be done, my lord," she said.
Then turning to Rebecca, she continued:
"Our welcome is somewhat tardy, but none the less sincere. England hath e'er been friendly to the American, and you had been more fittingly received had our informants been less negligent."
Here the Queen shot a glance at poor Sir Walter Raleigh, who now seemed the personification of discomfiture.
"By what name are you called?" Elizabeth continued.