"Will you give me a lesson, Master Gilbert?"

The laughing eyes were suddenly grave as they turned to the young
Englishman, the smiling lips grew tender, and the voice was gentle.
Without turning round, Henry felt the change and knew that she was
looking at his friend; he served the ball with a vicious stroke that
brought it back too high for him. Without turning his head to see where
it had rolled, the angry boy walked off, picked up his tunic, which lay
on the turf at a little distance, threw it over his arm, jammed his
pointed cap upon his head with his other hand, and departed in offended
dignity.

The Queen smiled as she looked after him, but did not laugh again.

"Will you teach me to play tennis?" she asked of Gilbert, who was
hesitating as to what he should do. "You have not answered me yet."

"I shall at all times do your Grace's bidding," answered Gilbert,
inclining his head a little and making a gesture with the hand that
held his cap as if to put himself at her disposal.

"At all times?" she asked quietly.

Gilbert looked up quickly, fearing lest he might be tricked into a
promise he did not understand, and he did not answer at once. But she
would not repeat the question.

"Wait," she said, before he spoke. "I am coming down."