Queen Anne bore a little grudge to the Duchess Josiana, for two reasons.  Firstly, because she thought the Duchess Josiana handsome.  Secondly, because she thought the Duchess Josiana’s betrothed handsome.  Two reasons for jealousy are sufficient for a woman.  One is sufficient for a queen.  Let us add that she bore her a grudge for being her sister.  Anne did not like women to be pretty.  She considered it against good morals.  As for herself, she was ugly.  Not from choice, however.  A part of her religion she derived from that ugliness.  Josiana, beautiful and philosophical, was a cause of vexation to the queen.  To an ugly queen, a pretty duchess is not an agreeable sister.

There was another grievance, Josiana’s “improper” birth.  Anne was the daughter of Anne Hyde, a simple gentlewoman, legitimately, but vexatiously, married by James II. when Duke of York.  Anne, having this inferior blood in her veins, felt herself but half royal, and Josiana, having come into the world quite irregularly, drew closer attention to the incorrectness, less great, but really existing, in the birth of the queen.  The daughter of mesalliance looked without love upon the daughter of bastardy, so near her.  It was an unpleasant resemblance.  Josiana had a right to say to Anne, “My mother was at least as good as yours.”  At court no one said so, but they evidently thought it.  This was a bore for her royal Majesty.  Why this Josiana?  What had put it into her head to be born?  What good was a Josiana?  Certain relationships are detrimental.  Nevertheless, Anne smiled on Josiana.  Perhaps she might even have liked her, had she not been her sister.

CHAPTER VI.

BARKILPHEDRO.

It is useful to know what people do, and a certain surveillance is wise.  Josiana had Lord David watched by a little creature of hers, in whom she reposed confidence, and whose name was Barkilphedro.

Lord David had Josiana discreetly observed by a creature of his, of whom he was sure, and whose name was Barkilphedro.

Queen Anne, on her part, kept herself secretly informed of the actions and conduct of the Duchess Josiana, her bastard sister, and of Lord David, her future brother-in-law by the left hand, by a creature of hers, on whom she counted fully, and whose name was Barkilphedro.

This Barkilphedro had his fingers on that keyboard—­Josiana, Lord David, a queen.  A man between two women.  What modulations possible!  What amalgamation of souls!

Barkilphedro had not always held the magnificent position of whispering into three ears.

He was an old servant of the Duke of York.  He had tried to be a churchman but had failed.  The Duke of York, an English and a Roman prince, compounded of royal Popery and legal Anglicanism, had his Catholic house and his Protestant house, and might have pushed Barkilphedro in one or the other hierarchy; but he did not judge him to be Catholic enough to make him almoner, or Protestant enough to make him chaplain.  So that between two religions, Barkilphedro found himself with his soul on the ground.