soothsaying an excuse.  The thought of how wretched life would be with Louis had put into Mary’s mind the thought of how sweet it would be with Brandon.  Then came the wish that Brandon had been a prince, or even a great English nobleman; and then leaped up, all rainbow-hued, the hope that he might yet, by reason of his own great virtues, rise to all of these, and she become his wife.  But at the threshold of this fair castle came knocking the thought that perhaps he did not care for her, and had deceived her to gain her favors.  Then she flushed with anger and swore to herself she hated him, and hoped never to see his face again.  And the castle faded and was wafted away to the realms of airy nothingness.

Ah! how people will sometimes lie to themselves; and sensible people at that.

So Mary wanted to see Grouche; first, through curiosity, in itself a stronger motive than we give it credit for; second, to learn if she would be able to dissuade Henry from the French marriage and perhaps catch a hint how to do it; and last, but by no means least, to discover the state of Brandon’s heart toward her.

By this time the last-named motive was strong enough to draw her any whither, although she would not acknowledge it, even to herself, and in truth hardly knew it; so full are we of things we know not of.

So she determined to go to see Grouche secretly, and was confident she could arrange the visit in such a way that it would never be discovered.

One morning I met Jane, who told me, with troubled face, that she and Mary were going to London to make some purchases, would lodge at Bridewell House, and go over to Billingsgate that evening to consult Grouche.  Mary had taken the whim into her wilful head, and Jane could not dissuade her.

The court was all at Greenwich, and nobody at Bridewell, so Mary thought they could disguise themselves as orange girls and easily make the trip without any one being the wiser.

It was then, as now, no safe matter for even a man to go unattended through the best parts of London after dark, to say nothing of Billingsgate, that nest of water-rats and cut-throats.  But Mary did not realize the full danger of the trip, and would, as usual, allow nobody to tell her.

She had threatened Jane with all sorts of vengeance if she divulged her secret, and Jane was miserable enough between her fears on either hand; for Mary, though the younger, held her in complete subjection.  Despite her fear of Mary, Jane asked me to go to London and follow them at a distance, unknown to the princess.  I was to be on duty that night at a dance given in honor of the French envoys who had just arrived, bringing with them commission of special ambassador to de Longueville to negotiate the treaty of marriage, and it was impossible for me to go.  Mary was going partly to avoid this ball, and her wilful persistency made Henry very angry.  I regretted that I could not go, but I promised Jane I would send Brandon in my place, and he would answer the purpose of protection far better than I. I suggested that Brandon take with him a man, but Jane, who was in mortal fear of Mary, would not listen to it.  So it was agreed that Brandon should meet Jane at a given place and learn the particulars, and this plan was carried out.