Mary looked at him with an almost terrified longing for him to disclose his mind, to some way speak to her, but he seemed every second to sink deeper into a silence that was beyond her meddling.
She moved about the room softly, picked up her sewing from a cabinet in the corner, and began disentangling the coloured cottons that had been hastily flung together.
The Prince looked round at her suddenly.
"Have you seen Dr. Burnet of late?" he asked.
"Yes—he came yesterday when you were out hunting."
"Well," said William, "not a word of this to him—I would not trust him with anything I would not say before my coachman."
Mary smiled; she shared her husband's dislike to the officious, bustling clergyman who considered himself so indispensable to the Protestant cause, and who was tolerated for the real use he had been to the Prince.
"Can you not trust my discretion?" she asked.
He gave her a brilliant smile.
"Why, I think you are a fair Politic, after all——"