"Nay, madam," he cried, pressing her hand to his lips; "mere thanks are not enough. You have not confined yourself to words."
"My eyes are very dim, prince," said the old dame; "and what you say to me will not make me see more clearly. Yet let me look upon your face, and I will tell you what I think of you. I am too old to flatter."
"You will not offend me by plain speaking," said Charles, smiling.
"You are a true Stuart," she continued, trying to peruse his features. "But there are some lines in your comely countenance that bode——"
"Not misfortune, I trust?" said Charles, finding she hesitated.
She regarded him anxiously, and made an effort to reply, but could not.
"What ails you, madam?" cried the prince, greatly alarmed by the deathly hue that overspread her features.
Her strength was gone, and she would have fallen, if he had not caught her in his arms.
Her friends, who were standing near, rushed forward to her assistance.
"Alas, all is over!" exclaimed Charles, mournfully, as he consigned her inanimate frame to them.