“Ah, Lambkin; with closed ears thou dost not becalm sight and wit, they cease not to fructify under suasion of childhood impregnations.  I fear not for thee, if thou art forewarned.  If thou art taken to the King, he will straightway be enamoured of thy beauteous face and will wish to have thee near him, and because he is of so great a title, he will expect to mould thee to his desires, whether ’tis thy will or not.  He may perhaps overawe thee, and thou wilt feel flattered by his approaches, which will seem sincere to thy untutored perceptions.  ’Twill be thy first meeting with a King.  There is one thing most sure, thou wilt not think him handsome; he has not the rich colouring that so marks Lord Cedric’s face, nor yet the clearness of countenance.  The King is most swarthy, gross featured and unfitted to thy fancy.  And how wouldst thou like such to approach thee and fondle thy hand—­perhaps imprint thy cheek with a caress, or his long fingers to go a foraging on thy slender neck?”

“Nay, nay, Janet; I should most surely hate such an one.  I am sure I should hate! hate!”

“But ’tis surely to what thou art coming.”

“But, Janet, the Duke of Monmouth is the King’s son, and his Grace of Buckingham his friend; and with these two at my side, what harm could come to me?”

“Should the King propose to keep thee with him, could they lie like slaves or dogs across thy threshold in the dead hours of night to keep unwelcome visitors from thy door?” Katherine’s eyes appeared on a sudden to open wide upon a thing she had not dreamed of before.

“Indeed, Janet, I think I see the trend of thy parables.  He is then debauched and given to entering rooms not his own at any hour he chooses.  I will be most careful and avoid spending the night.”

“But he may insist on thy presence, and no one dare gainsay the Royal will.”

“I am for the time of his dominion, but we can claim at any moment King Louis’ protection, and therefore I may defy him if I wish?”

“’Twill be like jumping from the river into the sea.  I understand, Lambkin, thou art bent upon paying well for thy popish idolatry.  If his Majesty sets black eyes on thee, thou art undone.  If thou art determined to go, we must have some way to prevent his falling in love with thee.  Thou wilt be willing to do this for me and—­thyself, Love?”

“Then I might not become that I so much wish—­a Lady of Honour!”

“That phrase, my Lambkin, is paradoxical—­’Lady of Honour.’”

“Janet, thou dost turn all sweets to bitterness!—­Then I will mottle my face and wear a hump and be spurned outright.  ’Twill ill serve me.  ’Twill not accord a safe issue.”

“Thou must not forget the King hath a tender heart for distress, and now I think on it, ’tis possible, if thou didst so disfigure thyself, thou wouldst gain his reply the quicker.  We will mottle thy face with leprous spots and cover thee with old woman’s clothes, placing a hump upon thy shoulder.  And no one shall be privy to our scheme but his Grace, and my lord of Buckingham, if they are to attend us.”  Janet felt satisfied with the turn affairs had taken.