The young man sank to one knee and kissed the Prince’s hands.
William raised him.
“You are well?—you have recovered?” he asked eagerly.
“Completely—to see the Hague and you again, Highness, would have cured me had I been far sicker.”
William gazed intently into the fair, ardent face.
“You must come upstairs with me—how dark and cold it is here——”
He looked round and saw Matthew Bromley standing by the mantelshelf.
At once he crossed over to him.
“Bromley, I spoke violently to you this morning,” he said, “and I am sorry—will you forgive me?”
It was William’s habit to make instant reparation for his rare outbursts of passion, but Mr. Bromley had not expected he would ask pardon of his own gentleman.