ys after the death of
King Henry the Eighth she became the wife of the high admiral, Thomas
Seymour, Earl of Sudley. Archbishop Cranmer solemnized their union in
the chapel at Whitehall, and the lord protector, now Duke of Somerset,
formerly Earl of Hertford, the brother of Thomas Seymour, was the
witness of this marriage, which was, however, still kept a secret,
and of which there were to be no other witnesses. When, however, they
resorted to the chapel for the marriage, Princess Elizabeth came forward
to meet the queen, and offered her hand.

It was the first time they had met since the dreadful day on which they
confronted each other as enemies--the first time that they had again
seen each other eye to eye.

Elizabeth had wrung this sacrifice from her heart. Her proud soul
revolted at the thought that Thomas Seymour might imagine that she was
still grieving for him, that she still loved him. She would show him
that her heart was entirely recovered from that first dream of her
youth--that she had not the least regret or pain.

She accosted him with a haughty, cold smile, and presented Catharine
her hand. "Queen," said she, "you have so long been a kind and faithful
mother to me, that I may well once more claim the right of being your
daughter. Let me, therefore, as your daughter, be present at the solemn
transaction in which you are about to engage; and allow me to stand at
your side and pray for you, whilst the archbishop performs the sacred
service, and transforms the queen into the Countess of Sudley. May God
bless you, Catharine, and give you all the happiness that you deserve!"

And Princess Elizabeth knelt at Catharine's side, as the archbishop
blest this new marriage tie. And while she prayed her eye again glided
over toward Thomas Seymour, who was standing there by his young wife.
Catharine's countenance beamed with beauty and happiness, but upon
Thomas Seymour's brow still lay the cloud that had settled there on that
day when the king's will was opened--that will which did not make Queen
Catharine regent, and which thereby destroyed Thomas Seymour's proud and
ambitious schemes.

And that cloud remained on Thomas Seymour's brow. It sank down lower and
still lower. It soon overshadowed the happiness of Catharine's love, and
awakened her from her short dream of bliss.

What she suffered, how much of secret agony and silent woe she endured,
who can wish to know or conjecture? Catharine had a proud and a cha