Soothed by tobacco, and cheered by the bright morning sunlight, the King leant back in his chair.
It was another wonderful summer day. Overhead the sky was a luminous, cloudless blue. The sunlight lay golden on the green of the trees, and on the more vivid green of the lawn. The garden flower beds were gay with masses of brilliant hued blossoms. One or two birds whistled pleasantly from the neighbouring trees and bushes. A fat starling strutted about the lawn, digging for worms.
A sense of general well-being stirred in the King, a sense of well-being which surprised him, for a moment, but only for a moment. It was always so, when he had been in Paradise, with Judith. Always he returned to the palace refreshed, and strengthened, with a new zest for, with a new appreciation of, the joy of mere living. Somehow, he must see to it, that his—promotion—did not interfere with his visits to Judith, and to Uncle Bond. He must see to it—in the interest of the State! He smiled as the words occurred to him. In the interest of the State? What would his fellow victims of the State, of the people, the old Duke of Northborough, for example, say to that, if they knew? But the words were justified. It was to the interest of the State that he, the King, should obtain, from time to time, the refreshment, the renewed strength, the zest, the sense of general well-being, of which he was so pleasantly conscious now.
But, meanwhile, in the interest of the State, he must not, he could not afford to, waste any more of these golden, summer morning moments, idling here in the garden. The avalanche of correspondence in the post bags, and the official documents, and dispatches, which had accumulated, during the last day or two, owing to the special demands on his time made by the Coronation, were awaiting him in the palace. Long hours of desk work lay before him. The thought did not displease him. He was in the mood for work. Here was something he could put his weight into. Here was an opportunity for individual action, and self-expression, an opportunity for the exercise of his own judgment, driving power, decision.
Knocking out his pipe, the King stood up abruptly.
Then, whistling gaily, an indication of cheerfulness which had grown very rare with him, of late, he crossed the lawn, and re-entered the palace, on his way back to duty.
CHAPTER VIII
t was in the palace library, a large and lofty room on the ground floor, with a row of tall windows overlooking the garden, that the King spent his office hours. The library was strictly reserved for his use alone. The secretaries, who served his personal needs, were accommodated in a smaller room adjoining, which communicated with the library by folding doors. Although he was compelled to maintain, in this way, the isolation which was so little to his taste, it was characteristic of the King, in his dealings with his immediate subordinates, that he should take some pains not to appear too patently the man apart. This was the way they had taught him in the Navy. On more than one "happy ship," on which he had served, the King had learnt that, to get good work out of subordinates, it was expedient to treat them as fellow workers, and equals, as men, although graded differently in rank, for the purposes of discipline, and pay. It was in more or less mechanical application of this principle, that, still whistling gaily, he chose now, to enter the library, not directly, but through the secretaries' room adjoining.