But the Queen was more furious than ever that morning, returning at every pause in the envoy's discourse to harp upon the one string--"How dared he come to such a decision without at least imparting it to me ?"--and so on, as so many times before.

And again Davison, with all the eloquence and with every soothing art he had at command; essayed to pour oil upon the waves.
Nor was he entirely unsuccessful; for presently the Queen became so calm again that he ventured once more to present the rejected letter of the Earl.

She broke the seal, and at sight of the well-known handwriting she became still more gentle; and so soon as she had read the first of her favourite's honied phrases she thrust the precious document into her pocket, in order to read it afterwards, as Davison observed, at her leisure.
The opening thus successfully made, and the envoy having thus, "by many insinuations," prepared her to lend him a "more patient and willing ear than she had vouchsafed before," he again entered into a skilful and impassioned argument to show the entire wisdom of the course pursued by the Earl.
It is unnecessary to repeat the conversation.

Since to say that no man could have more eloquently and faithfully supported an absent friend under difficulties than Davison now defended the Earl.

The line of argument is already familiar to the reader, and, in truth, the Queen had nothing to reply, save to insist upon the governor's delinquency in maintaining so long and inexplicable a silence.