"Walter, dear, I think not of that, now that thou art again returned to me. But come," she said suddenly, as she remembered my mission, "the Queen awaits thee anxiously; so let us go to her at once. Afterwards we may talk, as I have much to tell thee."
"Hast thou no word for Sir Frederick?" I asked, as we started down the corridor.
"Ah! Sir Frederick, thou must forgive me;" said Hazel, in confusion, "but I was so surprised and—"
"Yes, yes," interrupted Harleston, with a smile, "I quite understand. Indeed, Lady Hazel, thine oversight carries not with it the sting of slight; for, under the circumstances, I had been a churl indeed to have been offended by such a pretty show of love's one-heartedness."
This brought a succession of crimson waves to Hazel's lovely face, adding to its beauty as does the evening sunlight to the rose.
"But how knowest thou so much of these things that thou dost speak of?" she asked, as she looked up at Harleston's face with her head held to the one side and a smile of triumph playing about her mouth. "Surely one could not discourse so learnedly on any subject without having had practical experience."
Harleston was fairly taken aback; but as he attempted to stammer out something in reply we came to her Majesty's room; so Sir Frederick was permitted to escape Hazel's criticism of his explanation.
We were admitted to the Queen's presence by her son, the Marquis of Dorset, who met us at the door.
"Ah! my friends," said he, pleasantly, "I am indeed pleasured that ye have come. Her Majesty and I have been awaiting your arrival with great anxiety; for we would hear from your lips the recital of that unhappy and treacherous event which took place at Stony Stratford."
"Yes," said the Queen, "well would I like to hear a fuller description of that which happened to our dear relatives and friends, than was given in your letter to me, or rather to Hazel," she corrected.