“Is our Queen meditating?”
I started, for he was beside me.
“It is my first ball,” I said, “and I am wondering at the pretty sight of so many happy and merry people.”
“Their merriment I grant,” he replied. “As for their happiness, we had better perhaps agree to take that for granted.”
“I suppose we all agree to give ourselves up to the pleasures of the hour,” I said. “Can we not be happy, even if we have a care which we try to hide?”
“I hope, at least,” he said, “that Miss Pleydell has no cares.”
I shook my head, thinking how, if all hearts were opened and all secrets known, there would be wailing instead of laughter, and my lord and myself would start asunder with shame on my part and loathing on his.
“Yes,” he said; “an assembly of people to please and to be pleased is a charming sight. For a time we live in an atmosphere of ease and contentment, and bask at the feet of the Queen of Hearts.”
“Oh, my lord!” I said, “do not pay me compliments: I am only used to plain truth.”
“Surely that is the honest truth,” he said. “To be Queen of the Wells is nothing, but to be the Queen of Hearts is everything.”