CHAPTER XXI.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume III, Issue 135, 3 December 1875, Page 6

CHAPTER XXI.

THORNS IN THE DIADEM. That property — whose was it, indeed, but the private fortune of my father, inherited from the Earldoms of Ulster and Clare — I asked him to give it for the endowments of public schools ; and, oh, how bitter Elizabeth Villiers, my rival in his affections, is to have it all; it is very hard" and as she spoke, a low, anguished sob from the queen burst forth, betraying the deep misery of her heart. Unheard, uunoticed, Florence had entered the boudoir, an unwilling witness of Queen Mary's grief. She coughed aloud in order to attract her attention. In her own mind she thought it no great loss that the Irish, so grievously afflicted during the reign of William, had lost the benefit of the schools Mary would have en- "V dowed to prevert them from their faith ; but of the infamy of the use the king had put the property to, there could be no doubt. Ihvt the joy expressed in her countenance whenever William of Orang-o honoured Kensington wivh his presence was enough to show the happiness she felt ; and when he scolded, which, morose as he was, was not unf requently the case, she was too submistive & "wife to rebel, but bore with the greatest patience the caprices and outbreaks of his sarcastic and cynical temper. | B chold them settled in their new palace, only for a season ; for, ! us usual, the king's sojourns in England were short and interrupted. j Florence held him in horror. Such coarseness as he was guilty of ' .she had not been in the habit of witnessing. It was his inhospitality and vulgarity at the dinner-table which had so disgusted her uncle ; and once, with unmitigated surprise, she beheld him, when. a small dish of peaches, the first of the season, were put on the ' table, draw the whole before him, and devour them without offering one to the Queen. She was not surprised* however, because she I had heard Lady Marlborough mention an incident of the same I kind, saying that the Princess Anne, having dined "with the king i am! queen, some green peas were placed before her, but the king I h.iviny a mind to them, ate them without offering any to her or the queen . Early one morning, a very short time after the king had re- ' turned to Kensington, Florence, being from habit an early riser, 1 Wiib just finishing her toilette, when the old, awful sound she had , heard the night of the fire at Whitehall again broke upon hear ears, ! but mingled with the roar of the flames and the crackling of wood 1-os.e the voice of the king shouting for his sword. "His sword," thought Florence, "is he bereft of his senses ?" But, no, as with * his wife, the case was the same with him. They had treacherously übiirped the crown, and so they imagined treachery always busy i about themselves. The king had mistaken the noise occasioned by the destructive element, and the outcries of his attendants, for an attack: upon his palace. And amidst all the horror and alarm of an a-v\ful fire, the risible faculties of Florence were aroused to a degree of mirth she could with difficulty conceal, on meeting the king in one of the adjacent galleries hastening forward, as one demented, and calling loudly for his sword. "It is fire, your Majesty," said Florence ; " see, your attendants are coming- to apprize you of it. Wo had best hasten away, the rooms near the stone gallery are in flames." She was correct. It was found to be accidental, and it was some time before the flames could be subdued. Treachery had nothing to do with these two calamities which pursued the king and queen, one quickly after the other. Nevertheless, that they should suspect treason lurked under all the untoward accidents of life, showed clearly that they knew they had just cause for apprehension.