“My lord,” replied Jane, meekly, “I would rather that he looked like your grace.”
“Nay,” said the king, laughing, “I am willing that my successor should excel me in looks. What say you, my lords and ladies, is he not a goodly boy?”
There was a chorus of assent; it would have been a strange time to criticise the Prince of England. Only one or two of the older women looked anxiously at the pale face and shining eyes of the queen, and nodded their heads at each other. Henry, overflowing with joy at the birth of a boy, moved about among the nobles present, talking freely to all, and with little thought of the nervous strain upon the young mother. His face softened by his happiness and his rich dress becoming his large and stately figure, the king recalled to many the handsome presence of his earlier manhood. He came down the long room, speaking familiarly and kindly to all whom he recognized, and showing his wonderful memory for small matters by his words to each one.
“Ah, John,” he said to one tall nobleman, “how is that lame boy of yours? I will send my physician to look at his leg; the prince must have sound subjects.”
Without waiting for thanks, he turned to another.
“Lady Harriet, you and I grow old; we are both limping; but we must mend our paces now.” And to a younger matron, “Alice, I hear thy baby is a beauty; we must see if it can match mine.”
A little farther on, he stopped beside a young couple who were standing together. “I have heard of your parents’ opposition,” he said with boisterous kindness; “I will see to it that it is ended; we must have a merry wedding before Christmas. Trouble ceased at this court when the prince was born!”
In his genial progress he had reached the end of the room where stood Betty Carew. Her tall, white figure and beautiful, sad face arrested his attention at once. It may be that he remembered her as an attendant of Queen Anne, for his own face clouded slightly and he looked at her with manifest interest. It was the opportunity for which Betty had waited, and she advanced with a beating heart. Her great beauty and something in her manner made a little stir as she came forward. A page was holding a torch near where the king stood, and the boy, attracted by her beauty, held his light so that the full radiance fell on her figure, outlining it in the white glistening folds of satin draperies and casting a wonderful glow in her eyes. She came forward with perfect dignity, pausing a little way from the king, her beauty causing a whisper of amazement to run around the circle. Henry, who was ever quick to recognize loveliness in woman, looked at her with evident admiration.
“’Tis Mistress Carew, and I mistake not,” he said graciously. “What will you ask of me to-night?”
“Your grace,” she replied gently, “I have a petition, albeit a strange one for so joyous an occasion, yet I pray you hear it in the name of Prince Edward.”