Emma’s heart was never inaccessible to pity and she had long outsoared the Greville limit of a farthing. Ambassadresses must give generously. She pushed a large silver coin into the olive paw, and let the flowers fall carelessly on her lap.
The Princess, the letter—the Queen would not have said that without knowing! That, too, was why she had not been asked to delay after the others. The Queen would risk no suspicion of plotting at this point. Clear as noonday, but then, how could they meet? She moved impatiently, and the bouquet rolled from her lap to the floor and a little grimy paper folded like a quill fell out of it.
English—then Acton was at the back of this also! She read eagerly.
“It is here, but I know not how to obtain it. Suggest.”
That was all, but Emma’s quick wits raced swift as thought. She was in the Queen’s skin. What would she herself do provided Sir William had a secret she wished to master? If the King were so great a fool as to plot behind the Queen’s and Acton’s backs and ruin his country in so doing, what terms could be kept with him? She had her plan clear as noonday in five minutes. If the Queen had her courage it was done. But had she?
She put her head out of the window and ordered her carriage to return to the Palace, and unfastening her glove, took off a small diamond ring, and clasped it in a shut hand with the flowers. It was not long before she was curtseying at the door of the Royal salon again, all smiles and apologies.
“Oh, madam, my carelessness! Will Your Majesty pardon? I have dropped a little ring, not of much value, but to me invaluable as His Excellency’s gift. Have I your permission to search?”
The Queen’s eye had caught the flowers. She was all graciousness. She moved her Royal skirts aside, the other ladies hovered about the floor looking for the sparkle under chairs, in the corner, Emma hunting with the best of them.
Triumph! A little cry! She held it up, laughing. “Under the pedal of the forte-piano. Why hadn’t I the sense to look there at first? Ladies, with Her Majesty’s permission, I must tell you the story of that ring.”
Permission charmingly given, all the ladies a-tiptoe to hear, the Princess Belmonte fanning herself prettily behind the Queen’s chair.