The King interrupted.
"Are you jealous—you—of him?" he asked mournfully.
"I have enough to make me jealous," was the hot answer, "when I see the creature of such as my Lord Sunderland creep into your affections."
The King answered in gentle, dignified tones, without a touch of anger or resentment—
"You are indeed wrong. I like M. van Keppel for himself—I find him sweet and intelligent, a willing servant—and I have not too many. But you know, even while you speak, that nothing could come between me and you."
"I think he hath come between us," said Portland sternly; "during the whole campaign he hath hardly left your side. I believe you even consult him as to your actions—he!—why, the whole camp knoweth his reputation. I could tell some tales——"
The King broke in.
"I'll hear no scandals. You know that of me. If we are to listen to tale-bearing there is not one of us safe. If I favoured any man do you not think there would be tales against him? But I did not think to find you leaning on gossip."
He still spoke with an utter calm; but Portland took his words heavily.
"If you choose to reprimand me——" he began.