Mistress Nell Part 27

"Brother James," forthwith importuned the King, waggishly, "will you favour me with your lily-white hand for the next dance? I am driven to extremity."

"Pardon, Sire," replied James, quite humorously for him, "I am engaged to a handsomer man."

"Odsfish," laughed Charles, "King Charles of England a wall-flower.

Come, Rochester, my epitaph."

The King threw himself into a chair, in an att.i.tude of hopeless resignation, quite delicious.

Rochester perked up with the conceit and humour of the situation. With the utmost dignity, and with the quizzical, pinched brow of the labouring muse, halting at each line, he said:

_"Here lies our sovereign lord, the King, Whose word no man relies on; Who never said a foolish thing, And never did a wise one!"_

The post-mortem verse was sufficiently subtle and clever to revive the King's drooping spirits; and he joined heartily in the applause.

"The matter," he said, approvingly, "is easily accounted for--my discourse is my own, my actions are my Ministry's."

There was a _frou-frou_ of petticoats. The hostess entered gaily.

"The King! The courtiers! Unmasked!" she exclaimed, in coy reproof. "Fy, fy, your Majesty! For shame! Gallants! Are you children that I must pair you off?"

"We are seeking consolation," suggested Charles, dryly; "for modest souls have small chance to-night, Louise."

He nodded significantly in the direction of the great ball-room, where the chatter of women's voices betokened the unrivalled popularity of Nell.

"When did you turn modest, Sire?" slyly inquired Portsmouth, with a look of love.

"When I was out-stripped in audacity by yon Hibernian youth," replied the King, seriously. "Who is this peac.o.c.k you are introducing?"

A peal of laughter from without punctuated the King's speech. It was the reward of a wit-thrust from Nell.

"The Piper the maids would now unmask?" queried Portsmouth, rapturously.

"Marry, 'tis the fascinating Beau Adair of Cork, entertaining the ladies. Oh, he is a love, Sire; he does not sulk in corners. See! See!"

She pointed toward the archway, through which Nell was plainly visible.

She was strutting jauntily back and forth upon the promenade. It is unnecessary to say that she was escorted by the a.s.sembled fair ones.

As Nell caught the eye of the hostess in the distance, she gaily tossed a kiss to her.

"'Sdeath, that I were a woman to hope for one of his languis.h.i.+ng smiles," observed Buckingham.

"Even the old hens run at his call," sneered the pious James, in discontent; for he too had been deserted by his ladylove and even before the others.

The King looked at his brother with an air of bantering seriousness, to the delight of all a.s.sembled.

"Brother James is jealous of the old ones only," he observed. "You know his favourites are given him by his priests for penance."

A merry ripple ran through the group.

The hostess took advantage of the King's speech to make a point.

"And you are jealous of the young ones only," she said, slyly, quickly adding as a bid for jealousy: "Pooh, pooh! _Le Beau_ had letters to me, Sire. Nay, we do not love him very much. We have not as yet had time."

"Alas, alas," sighed Charles, with drooping countenance, "that it should come to this."

"My liege, I protest--" cried Portsmouth, hastily, fearful lest she might have gone too far. "To-night is the first I ever saw the youth. I adore you, Sire."

"Not a word!" commanded Charles, with mock-heroic mien. He waved his hand imperatively to his followers. "Friends," he continued, "we will mix masks and dominoes and to't again to drown our sorrow."

"In the Thames?" inquired James, facetiously for him.

"Tus.h.!.+ In the punch-bowl, pious brother!" protested the Merry Monarch, with great dignity. "You know, a very little water will drown even a king."

The gallants mixed masks and dominoes in obedience to the royal wish.

The King, sighing deeply, cast a hopeless glance at Portsmouth, not without its tinge of humour. He then sauntered slowly toward the windows of the great ball-room, followed subserviently by all the courtiers, save Buckingham, who was lost in converse with player Hart.

"Hark ye," suddenly broke off Buckingham, observing the approach of Adair and his adorers, "here come again the merry maskers. By Bacchus, the little bantam still reigns supreme. The King and his gallants in tears. Let us join the mourners, Master Hart."

As the Duke and the player, the former a.s.suming a fraternal air for an end of his own, joined the royal group, Nell re-entered gaily, every inch the man. She was still surrounded by the ladies, who, fluttering, flattering and chattering, hung upon her every word. With one hand she toyed with her mask, which she had good-naturedly dropped as none were about who knew her. She clapped it, however, quickly to her eyes at sight of the King.

"You overwhelm me, my fair ones," she said, with spirit, as she held court in the centre of the room. "I a.s.sure you, I am not used to such attention--from the ladies."

"Our hospitality is beggarly to your deserts," sighed Portsmouth, who had joined the bevy, but loud enough for the King to hear.

"You quite o'erpower me, d.u.c.h.ess," answered Nell, modestly, adding for the satisfaction of her own sense of humour: "No wonder we men are fools, if you women talk like this."

While she was speaking, Lady Hamilton whispered facetiously in Portsmouth's ear.

"Beau Adair married!" exclaimed the d.u.c.h.ess, in response. "It cannot be.

He looks too gay for a married man."

"No confidences, my pretty ones," observed Nell, reprovingly.

The hostess hesitated; then she out with it in a merry strain.

"Lady Hamilton asks after the wife you left at home."

"My wife!" cried Nell, in astonishment; for this phase of her masquerading had not presented itself to her before. "Great Heavens, I have no wife--I a.s.sure you, ladies!"

"So?" observed Portsmouth, her curiosity awakened. "Modest--for a bachelor."

"A bachelor!" exclaimed Nell, now fully _en rapport_ with the spirit of the situation. "Well,--not exactly a bachelor either,--ladies."

"Alack-a-day," sighed Lady Hamilton, with a knowing glance at her companions, "neither a bachelor nor a married man!"

"Well, you see--" explained Nell, adroitly, "that might seem a trifle queer, but--I'm in mourning--deeply in mourning, ladies."

She drew a kerchief from her dress and feigned bitter tears.

"A widower!" t.i.ttered Lady Hamilton, heartlessly. "Our united congratulations, sir."