Patience smiled. "Well, well," she said, "her father did the same. The proverb says, 'Pride will have a fall'. Thank God she cannot fall much lower than she has!"
"Nay," answered the queen, "we will make of her a duchess. My son the king noticed her the other day and remarked upon her beauty, and he is no mean judge," she added with a light laugh.
But Patience flushed crimson. "I would sooner his majesty did not cast his eyes on her," she said in a low voice.
"Pshaw!" answered the queen, "she is but a child."
"A child who will be a woman before we know it," said Patience. "His majesty's court is too gay for such young fledgelings."
"Well spoken, Patience!" said a man's voice behind the queen. "Why, methinks my lord Cromwell's spirit still dwells amongst us in our own house. You will be a Puritan yet, Patience."
Patience made no answer, but bowed and went out.
Then the speaker, Lord Jermyn, took the queen's hand, kissed it, led her to a chair, and at a sign from her sat down beside her.
"Patience is right," he said. "I would keep those children away from Whitehall as much as possible. The king has had but a dull time of it in exile; he is making up for it now."
Henrietta shrugged her shoulders. "My nephew's court in Paris is no better," she said, "and there Henrietta, when she is Duchess of Orleans, will have to live, and probably Agnes will go with her."