The Real Charlotte. 151 



" He's getting a bit blown,'* remarked Mr. Hawkins from 

 the window of the brougham. " Go it, Leicester ! " 



Garry's only reply was to rise and stalk towards the dooi 

 with a dignity somewhat impaired by the bagginess of the 

 silver-laced trousers. The deserted countess remained 

 facing the audience in an agony of embarrassment that 

 might have softened the heart of anyone except her lord> 

 whose direction, " Talk about Queen Elizabeth, you ass ! " 

 was audible to everyone in the coach-house. Fortunately 

 for Kitty Gascogne, her powers of soliloquy were not long 

 tested. The door burst open, Garry hurried back to the 

 ottoman, and had only time to seize Amy Robsart's hand 

 and kneel at her feet when a tall figure took the stage with 

 a mincing amble. James Canavan had from time immemo- 

 rial been the leading lady in Garry's theatricals, and his 

 appearance as Queen Elizabeth was such as to satisfy his 

 oldest admirers. He wore a skirt which was instantly 

 recognised by the household as belonging to Mrs. Brady 

 the cook, a crown made of gold paper inadequately re- 

 strained his iron-grey locks, a ham-frill ruff concealed his 

 whiskers, and the deputy-lieutenant's red coat, with the old- 

 fashioned long taxis and silver epaulettes, completed his 

 equipment. 



His entrance brought down the house ; even Lady Dysart 

 forgot her anxiety to find out where Mr. Hawkins' voice 

 had come from, and collapsed into a state afterwards de- 

 scribed by the under-housemaid as ^* her ladyship in spHts." 



" Oh fie^ fie, fie ! " said Queen Elizabeth in a piping 

 falsetto, paying no heed to the demonstrations in her 

 favour ; *' Amy Robsart and Leicester ! Oh, dear, dear, 

 this will never do ! " 



Leicester still stooped over Amy's hand, but even the 

 occupants of the brougham heard the whisper in which he 

 said, " You're not half angry enough ! Go on again ! " 



Thus charged, Queen Elizabeth swept to the back of the 

 stage, and, turning there, advanced again upon the lovers, 

 stamping her feet and gesticulating with clenched fists. 

 " What ! Amy Robsart and Leicester ! Shocking ! dis- 

 graceful ! " she vociferated ; then with a final burst, " D — n 

 it ! I can't stand this ! " 



A roar of delight broke from the house i the delight 



