“It was not for lack of good-will,” said poor Anthony blushing a little. He felt in a kind of dream, fencing in language with this strange mighty creature in scarlet and pearls, who sat up in her chair and darted remarks at him, as with a rapier.
“Aha!” said the Queen, “he is blushing! Look, Minnie!” Mary looked at him deliberately. Anthony became scarlet at once; and tried a desperate escape.
“It is your livery, madam,” he said.
Mary clapped her hands, and glanced at the Queen.
“Yes, Minnie; he does his mistress credit.”
“Yes, your Grace; but he can do other things besides talk,” explained Mary.
Anthony felt like a horse being shown off by a skilful dealer, but he was more at his ease too after his blush.
“Extend your mercy, madam,” he said, “and bid Mistress Corbet hold her tongue and spare my shame.”
“Silence, sir!” said the Queen. “Go on, Minnie; what else can he do?”
“Ah! your Grace, he can hawk. Oh! you should see his peregrine;—named after your Majesty. That shows his loyal heart.”