"Be seated, my lord," she faltered.
But out of respect to her and the presence of the King he remained standing.
Mary made a feeble motion with her right hand, which lay outside the coverlet, and sweetly stammered her repeated commands that he should sit.
Dr. Tenison obeyed, and with a heavy heart. Her gentle patience made his duty the harder. Dr. Radcliffe had just told him that since she now seemed tranquil and in full consciousness he might tell her of her approaching end.
The Bishop, a good heavy man, set about his task with pain and tenderness.
"Your Majesty will forgive me plain speaking, but I am entrusted by the King——"
She lay with her face towards him, and her brown eyes narrowed. He hesitated, fearing to greatly agitate her, and sought for a form of words in which to cast his speech.
"I am greatly grieved to see that Your Majesty is no better," he said. "Your consolation will come from heaven, not earth."
She instantly perceived his drift.
"You are come to tell me that I am dying?" she asked faintly.