All this was said very excitedly, and with great earnestness and conviction.
"My dear," said the King, "it's no use your talking about those Women Chartists to me."
"But I'm one of them," said Charlotte.
"Nonsense; you are not."
"I am. I signed on. I couldn't have gone to prison for them if I hadn't."
"Do any of them know who you are?" cried the King, aghast. It was a disturbing thought, for what a power it would be in their hands, and he had always heard how unscrupulous they were.
"Only one or two," declared Charlotte, "and they won't tell unless I tell them to. They are wonderful people, papa!"
The King sighed; for the very name of them had become a weariness to him. The whole agitation, with its dim confused scufflings against law and order, and its demonstrations idiotically recurring at the most inopportune moments, had profoundly vexed him. Years ago he had received the bland assurance of his ministers that the whole thing would soon die down and cease; but it was still going on, and was now taking to itself worse forms than ever.
"What is it that they want?" he exclaimed, not quite meaning it as a question; rather as expressing the opinion that the subject was a hopeless one.
"They want a great many things," said his daughter; "they've got what they call 'grievances'; I know very little about them; they may be right or wrong—that isn't the point. The only thing that concerns you, papa, is that they want to come and see you; and they are not allowed to."