"Not longer than I can possibly help," answered Patience; "but your majesty must know that the plague is confined so far to certain quarters of the city. Here, on the river front, we run but little danger." Then, approaching nearer Henrietta, she said in a low voice:
"Will not his majesty's gay court at Oxford be worse for my child than the plague? Is not her soul more precious than her body? and that Marquis of Orford of whom you speak, is he worthy to touch the hem of her gown? Nay, let her be, your majesty; sooner let her live and die a maid than be coupled with such a man; and if she be doomed to die, then, at least, let me give her back to her mother 'unspotted from the world'."
It was not often Patience let herself go, but at the present moment she spoke with intense earnestness, almost with exaltation, and she possessed more influence over Henrietta Maria than any other member of her household.
The queen kept silence, her head resting on her hands, and, to Patience's surprise, tears fell on the table. She knew that she had hit hard. The mother's heart was aching at the thought of her own daughter whom she had given up to that bad man, Philip, Duke of Orleans. She knew well what she suffered; could she condemn another girl to the same fate!
"Take her away, Patience," she said impetuously, "take her away, and may the Lord have you both in His keeping!"
Patience knelt at the queen's side.
"Forgive me," she said, "if I have hurt you."
The queen held out her hand.
"Go," she said, "whilst I am in the mood, and do not let me see the child again or I may repent giving her up to you."
"That you will surely never do," said Patience, and, rising, she curtsied and left the room.