"You followed me. Why?"
"To beg a word of your Grace's favour."
"The question you asked today?"
"Yes."
"Is it so urgent?" The Queen laughed a little, and Gilbert started in
surprise.
"Your Grace wrote urgently," he said.
"Then you are zealous only to obey me? I like that. You shall be
rewarded! But I have changed my mind. If the letter were to be written
again, I would not write it."
"It was the letter of a friend. Would you take it back?"
Gilbert's face showed the coming disappointment. In his anxiety he
pressed nearer to her, resting his hand on the doorpost. The Queen drew
back and smiled.
"Was it so very friendly?" she asked. "I do not remember--but I did not
mean it so."
"Madam, what did you mean?" His voice was steady and rather cold.
"Oh--I have quite forgotten!" She almost laughed again, shaking her
hooded head.
"If your Grace had need of me, I might understand. Beatrix is not here.
I looked at each of your ladies to-day, through all their ranks--she
was not among them. I asked where she was, but you would not answer and
were angry--"
"I? Angry? You are dreaming!"
"I thought you were angry, because you changed colour and would not
speak again--"
"You were wrong. Only a fool can be angry with ignorance."
"Why do you call me ignorant? These are all riddles."
"And you are not good at guessing. Come! To show you that I was not
angry, I will have you walk with me down through the village. It is
growing late.
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