corner of the court, and she thoughtfully bit a sprig of rosemary which
she had picked from her window in passing. Gilbert could not help
watching the small white teeth that severed the little curling grey
leaves like ivory knives, but the Queen's eyes were turned from him and
were very thoughtful.

Gilbert deemed it necessary to say something.

"Your Grace is very kind." He bowed respectfully.

"What makes you so sad?" she asked suddenly, after a short pause, and
turning her eyes full upon him. "Is Paris so dull? Is our court so
grave? Is my Gascony wine sour, that you will not be merry like the
rest, or"--she laughed a little--"or are you not treated with the
respect and consideration due to your rank?"

Gilbert drew himself up a little as if not pleased by the jest.

"You know well that I have no rank, Madam," he said; "and though it
should please you to command of me some worthy deed, and I should, by
the grace of God, deserve knighthood, yet I would not have it save of
my lawful sovereign."

"Such as teaching me to play tennis?" she asked, seeming not to hear
the end of his speech. "You should as well be knighted for that as for
any other thing hard to do."

"Your Grace is never in earnest."

"Sometimes I am." Her eyelids drooped a little as she looked at him.