"KISS ME," SAID THE KING'S MISTRESS

"Kiss my hand now; kiss it as though I were fit for worship. It will do you no harm, and -- and perhaps -- perhaps I shall like to remember it." She bent down and kissed my forehead as I knelt before her. "Poor Simon," she whispered, as her hair brushed mine. Then her hand was gradually and gently withdrawn. I looked up to see her face; her lips were smiling but there seemed a dew on her lashes. Then she turned and left me, running swiftly over the grass, with never a look behind her. I watched till she was out of sight, and then sat down on the ground; with twitching lips and wide-open dreary eyes.

Ah, for youth's happiness! Alas for its dismal woe! Thus she came into my life.

Her name was Nell Gwyn, the notorious mistress of the rake king of England, Charles II.

But was her heart set on our young hero, Simon Dale?