There came in the shaven Lascelles and fell upon his knees, holding up
the sheets of the letter he had copied.
The Queen took them from him and laid them upon the great table, being
minded later to read them to the Lady Mary, in proof that the King very
truly would make his submission to Rome, supposing only that his
daughter would make submission to her.
When she turned, Lascelles was still kneeling before the doorway, his
eyes upon the ground.
'Why, I thank you,' she said. 'Gentleman, you may get you gone back to
the Archbishop.'
She was thinking of returning to her duel of patience with the Lady
Mary. But looking upon his blond and agreeable features she stayed for a
minute.
'I know your face,' she said. 'Where have I seen you?'
He looked up at her; his eyes were blue and noticeable, because at times
of emotion he was so wide-lidded that the whites showed round the pupils
of them.
'Certainly I have seen you,' the Queen said.
'It is a royal gift,' he said, 'the memory of faces. I am the
Archbishop's poor gentleman, Lascelles.'