For some moments Strafford lay back in his chair, seemingly in a state of collapse. The girl looked on him in alarm.
“Sir, is there anything I can do for you?” she asked at length.
“Call a servant. Tell him to order a coach prepared at once, and see that it is well horsed, for I would have the journey as short as possible.”
“My lord, you are in no condition of health to travel to London. I will go to the King and tell him so.”
“Do that I requested you, and trouble me not with counsel. There is enough of woman’s meddling in this business already.”
Frances obeyed her father’s instructions without further comment, then came and sat in her place again. The Earl roused himself, endeavouring to shake off his languor.
“What think you of the King?” he asked.
“He is a man corroded with selfishness.”
“Tut, tut! Such things are not to be spoken in the precincts of a Court. No, nor thought. He is not a selfish monarch, other than all monarchs are selfish, but——discussion on such a theme is fruitless, and I must be nearing my dotage to begin it. I am far from well, Frances, and so, like the infirm, must take to babbling.”
“Do you fear Parliament, my lord? How can it harm you when you have the favour of the King?”