She was standing by the open window when I went in (for it was late in June), and she turned to me with a smile. "Your face is not altogether unfamiliar to me, Mr. Darcy," she said, "but I never thought I should be under such obligations to the owner."
"'I AM YOUR HIGHNESS'S MOST OBEDIENT SERVANT,' I SAID."
"I am always your Highness's most obedient servant," I said, sinking on my knee.
"Nay," she returned, raising me, "if that were so, we should have to put you in livery, and the most I could do would be to let you choose your own."
"I should choose green and tan," I said, enthusiastically.
"That would be rather bizarre for a man, would it not?" she smiled.
"I venture to think otherwise, your Highness," I rejoined.
"Nevertheless, I should not like it," she said.
"Gold is a pretty colour," said I, looking at her hair, "or blue," I added, looking at her eyes.