im of his
injustice when he learns the truth. Dry thine eyes and tell all that hath
befallen thee."

Presently, when she had become calmer, Francis complied with the request,
and told her mother all that had occurred since she left her.

"And thy hair! Thy pretty hair!" cried Lady Stafford weeping when Francis
related that incident. "Ah, child, I repent me that ever I consented to
let thee leave me. But continue, I pray thee! I would know all."

And the girl continued her narrative to its close. Her mother clasped her
close when she finished it.

"We have done thee great wrong, my daughter. Forgive me and thy father
also. We should have known that thou wouldst not have done this thing,
but when we did not hear, and thou didst not come, we marveled at it
greatly. This morning Anthony Babington came, and told us that all was
known to the queen through thy treachery. And thou must be lenient toward
us that we believed him."

"But why didst thou, mother! Have I been so ill a daughter that ye must
believe the first word against me? I can not forgive it."

"Not now, my child, while thy hurt is recent, but later thy mother must
not sue to thee in vain. But, Francis, come to my tiring room. I mislike
that garb. Methinks it hath caused all our woe. Come, and let me see thee
in thy proper attire once more."

"Nay;" said Francis resolutely, "from this time forth I wear none other.
'Twas at my father's bidding that I donned it. I will discard it only
when he calls me 'daughter' again. Otherwise I shall go to my grave
Francis Stafford, the page."

"Francis, Francis," wailed the lady, "thou art distraught. Entertain not
such purpose, I entreat. Soften thy proud heart, and be not stubborn
when thy mother pleads with thee. For my sake, child, remove that
dress."

"Nay, mother;" replied she obdurately, "seek not to change my purpose,
for it is fixed. This page's dress I wear until my father takes me once
more to his heart."

"Thou art as unyielding and inflexible as thy sire," cried her mother.
"What can I do between ye? Have thy way, thou wilful girl! Naught remains
for thy mother but to pray that the day may be hastened when all will be
well with us again."

Just then there came a clattering of hoofs in the courtyard, and the
sound of voices. Lady Stafford sprang to her feet in alarm.

"What is it?" she cried. "Oh, child, what if they have taken thy
father?"

"'Tis the queen's men," said Francis starting up. "They see