There was hasty knocking at the door; the maid ran: ‘Who is it knocks?’
‘The King’s valet is without. The King asks if her Majesty is awake.’
‘Let him ask,’ said the Queen: ‘I will never see him again. Say that I am at prayers.’
Seton called, ‘Reply that Her Majesty is unable to see the King at this time. Her Majesty awoke early, and is now at prayers.’ She returned to the bed, where the Queen lay on her elbow, picking her handkerchief to pieces with her teeth.
‘Sweet madam,’ she said, ‘bethink you now of what must be done this day. You wish to be avenged of your enemies....’
The Queen looked keenly up.
‘Well, well, of all your enemies. But for this you must first be free. And it grows late.’
The Queen put her hair from her face and looked at the light coming in. She sat up briskly. ‘You are right, ma mie. Come and kiss me. I have been playing baby until my head aches.’
‘You will play differently now, I see,’ said Seton, ‘and other heads may wish they had a chance to ache.’
The Queen took her maid’s face in her dry hands. ‘Oh, Seton,’ she said, ‘you are a cordial to me. They have taken my poor David, but have left me you.’