'The trouble with the royal oak, Charles,' Nellie rejoined, with a tart look towards the elegant young Frenchwoman who was sitting composedly on a small chair, 'is that it seems to be spreading.' From this Alice concluded that the king had also been turning his eye in the French lady's direction, but he seemed not in the least abashed about it.

Looking bleakly at the proud lady in question he replied with a slight crossness: 'There has been no planting. Yet.'

'I don't think much of her, anyway,' said Nellie.

In the middle of this unseemly exchange King Charles suddenly turned to Alice. 'You have a pretty daughter, Madam,' he said.

Alice felt herself tense. She realized instantly that Charles had deliberately chosen this moment and this remark to vex her: the idea, insolently floating in the air, that her God-fearing little daughter might be viewed as a future royal conquest was as offensive as anything he could have said. Not, of course, that he had even implied it. If such a horror arose in her mind, he would say, it only proved her own antagonism towards him. He'd simply said the child was pretty. His game was plain: if she thanked him, she made a fool of herself; if she was insulted she gave him an excuse to send her packing. But always consider, she reminded herself, that my husband killed this man's father. 'She is a good child, Your Majesty,' she replied as easily as she could, 'and I love her for her kindness.'

'You rebuke me, Madam,' the king said quietly and looked down for a moment, before turning back to her again. She noticed as he did so that his nose, at a certain angle, looked strikingly large and that, with his soft brown eyes, this made him appear surprisingly solemn.

'I will deal plainly with you, Madam,' he said seriously. 'I cannot like you. It is said', he continued with a trace of real anger, 'that you cried out with joy at my father's death.'

'I am sorry if you heard that, Sire,' she said, 'for I promise you it is not true.'

'Why not? It was surely what you desired.'

'For the simple reason, Sire, that I foresaw that, one day, it would lead to my husband's destruction - which it did.'

At this blunt failure to express sorrow for the death of the king's father, Howard began to rise as though he meant to throw her out; but King Charles gently raised his hand. 'No, Howard,' he said sadly, 'she is only honest and we should be grateful for that. I know, Madam that you have suffered too. They say', he continued to Alice, 'that you harbour dissenting preachers.'