“Some pretty shepherdess of the Chilterns—some sweet wood nymph, no doubt? Well, here’s to her! And now,” continued the officer, without lowering the goblet from his lips, “since I’ve drunk to your mistress, you’ll not refuse the same compliment to my master—the King. You won’t object to that toast, will you?”
“By no means,” replied Walter, “I drink it willingly; though the king and I have not parted the best of friends.”
“Ha! ha! ha! friends with the king! His Majesty has the honour of your acquaintance, eh?”
“I have been nearly three years in his service.”
“A courtier?”
“I have been page to the queen.”
“Indeed! Perhaps you have no objection to favour us with your name?”
“Not the slightest. My name is Wade—Walter Wade.”
“Son of Sir Marmaduke, of Bulstrode Park?”
“I am.”