still youthful, though worn and wearied, and bearing tokens of illness.  The features were far from being regularly beautiful; there was a decided cast in one of the eyes, and in spite of all that Mary Talbot’s detracting tongue had said, Susan’s first impression was disappointment.  But, as the Queen greeted the lady whom she already knew, and the Earl presented his daughter, Lady Grace, his stepdaughter, Elizabeth Cavendish, and his kinswoman, Mistress Susan Talbot, the extraordinary magic of her eye and lip beamed on them, the queenly grace and dignity joined with a wonderful sweetness impressed them all, and each in measure felt the fascination.

The Earl led the Queen to the fire to obtain a little warmth before mounting the stairs to her own apartments, and likewise while Lady Shrewsbury was dismounting, and being handed up the stairs by her second stepson, Gilbert.  The ladies likewise knelt on one knee to greet this mighty dame, and the children should have done so too, but little Cis, catching sight of Captain Richard, who had come up bearing the Earl’s hat, in immediate attendance on him, broke out with an exulting cry of “Father! father! father!” trotted with outspread arms right in front of the royal lady, embraced the booted leg in ecstasy, and then stretching out, exclaimed “Up! up!”

“How now, malapert poppet!” exclaimed the Countess, and though at some distance, uplifted her riding-rod.  Susan was ready to sink into the earth with confusion at the great lady’s displeasure, but Richard had stooped and lifted the little maid in his arms, while Queen Mary turned, her face lit up as by a sunbeam, and said, “Ah, bonnibell, art thou fain to see thy father?  Wilt thou give me one of thy kisses, sweet bairnie?” and as Richard held her up to the kind face, “A goodly child, brave sir.  Thou must let me have her at times for a playfellow.  Wilt come and comfort a poor prisoner, little sweeting?”

The child responded with “Poor poor,” stroking the soft delicate cheek, but the Countess interfered, still wrathful.  “Master Richard, I marvel that you should let her Grace be beset by a child, who, if she cannot demean herself decorously, should have been left at home.  Susan Hardwicke, I thought I had schooled you better.”

“Nay, madam, may not a babe’s gentle deed of pity be pardoned?” said Mary.

“Oh! if it pleasures you, madam, so be it,” said Lady Shrewsbury, deferentially; “but there be children here more worthy of your notice than yonder little black-browed wench, who hath been allowed to thrust herself forward, while others have been kept back from importuning your Grace.”

“No child can importune a mother who is cut off from her own,” said Mary, eager to make up for the jealousy she had excited.  “Is this bonnie laddie yours, madam?  Ah!  I should have known it by the resemblance.”