He held out the paper to her. She took it, with fingers that shook a
little, and read it through at least twice.

"Is this an insult, sir; or a very poor pleasantry?" (Her face was gone
pale again.)

"It is neither, mistress. It is a very sober fact."

"This is the King's hand?" she snapped.

"It is," said Mr. Chiffinch.

"Dolly," said I, "I told you to be ready by noon; but you would not
believe me. I suppose your packing is not done?"

She paid me no more attention than if I had been a chair.

"Mr. Chiffinch," said she, "you tell me, upon your honour, that this is
the King's hand, and that he means what is written here?"

"I give you my honour, mistress," he said.

She tossed the paper upon the table; she went swiftly across to the
further door, and opened it.

"Anne!" she said.

A voice answered her from within.