"Odds fish!" ejaculated Charles, vexedly cud gelling his brows, for he had in no wise remembered; and a flush of something like compunction crossed his swarthy features. "You have our hearty wishes, Catharine, for its many happy returns."
A lightless smile curved the queen's lips as she acknowledged with a deep inclination of her head the chorus of voices endorsing this tardy felicitation.
The King's breakfast.
"And now," continued Charles with a gesture of his hand towards the breakfast tables, glittering in their costly confusion, while his eyes travelled rather regretfully down over his long buff riding-boots, "does not your majesty propose to stay and breakfast with us? It is true—"
"That you have breakfasted," interrupted the queen with another faint smile. "Nay, I take it my absence will be more esteemed. Oh! no protests, gentlemen," she went on, lifting her hand as the polite chorus was repeated, "for I perceive, as to be sure I only anticipated, that you are all booted and spurred for your day's pleasure. And I had no intention of coming here to—to spoil it. But on my way from chapel this young gentleman—" and she made a motion towards Lawrence Lee—"a supplicant for a word with your majesty,—crossed it. And though some of your majesty's people would have denied him, his business—"
"Business!" groaned the king, sinking down again into his chair with a cavernous yawn.
"Was urgent, he said."
"We have no leisure for it;" and Charles's black brows knitted with angry impatience. "Let him carry it to Whitehall."
"He says," persisted Catharine, "that it concerns your majesty personally."
"Then its standing over can give the less offence. If we alone are concerned—"