that she came as a princess; but she flew to draw up Master Richard’s chair, and put his wife’s beside it, nor would she sit, till they had prayed her to do so; and it was all done with such a graceful bearing, the noble carriage of her head had become so much more remarkable, and a sweet readiness and responsiveness of manner had so grown upon her, that Susan looked at her in wondering admiration, as something more her own and yet less her own than ever, tracing in her for the first time some of the charms of the Queen of Scots.

All the household hovered about in delight, and confidences could not be exchanged just then:  the travellers had to eat and drink, and they were only just beginning to do so when Ned came home.  He was of slighter make than his brothers, and had a more scholarly aspect:  but his voice made itself heard before him.  “Is it true?  Is it true that my father is come?  And our Cis too?  Ha!” and he rushed in, hardly giving himself time for the respectful greeting to his father, before he fell upon Cis with undoubting brotherly delight.

“Is Humfrey come?” he asked as soon as he could take breath.  “No?  I thought ’twas too good to be all true.”

“How did you hear?”

“Hob the hunter brought up word that the Queen’s head was off.  What?” as Cicely gave a start and little scream.  “Is it not so?”

“No, indeed, boy,” said his father.  “What put that folly into his head?”

“Because he saw, or thought he saw, Humfrey and Cis riding home with you, sir, and so thought all was over with the Queen of Scots.  My Lady, they say, had one of her shrieking fits, and my Lord sent down to ask whether I knew aught; and when he found that I did not, would have me go home at once to bid you come up immediately to the Manor; and before I had gotten out Dapple, there comes another message to say that, in as brief space as it will take to saddle them, there will be beasts here to bring up you and my mother and Cis, to tell my Lady Countess all that has befallen.”

Cis’s countenance so changed that kind Susan said, “I will make thine excuses to my Lady.  Thou art weary and ill at ease, and I cannot have thee set forth at once again.”

“The Queen would never have sent such sudden and hasty orders,” said Cicely.  “Mother, can you not stay with me?—­I have so much to say to you, and my time is short.”

The Talbots were, however, too much accustomed to obedience to the peremptory commands of their feudal chiefs to venture on such disobedience.  Susan’s proposal had been a great piece of audacity, on which she would hardly have ventured but for her consciousness that the maiden was no Talbot at all.