to the nurse who held his little daughter,--
'Tarry for one moment, Mistress Joan.'
'My friends,' he said, 'you who follow me to Flushing, I pray I may live to
reward you for the faithful service you will render me. God grant you may
return in health and peace to your wives and children. If it please God, I
shall myself return in due season; but there are many chances in war, and a
soldier's future must ever be doubtful. So, should I fall in the fight
against the tyranny of Spain and the machinations of Rome, I say to you,
show to this fair lady, my sweet wife, all reverent care and honour, for,
forsooth, she will merit it; and as for this little lady Elizabeth, the
godchild of our gracious Sovereign,' he continued, smiling as he took the
child from the nurse's arms, 'I commend her to you also. You see but little
of her, she is so swathed in folds of lace and what not, and, in good
sooth, there is but little to see; but she gives promise of being a dainty
little maiden, not unworthy to be the Queen's name-child, and the daughter
of the gentle Dame Frances Sidney.'
'Nor unworthy to be the child of Sir Philip Sidney, a greater honour than
all the rest, methinks.'
These words were spoken in a deep, manly voice by Sir Francis Walsingham,
who had stopped on the stairs when he saw his son-in-law pause with his
wife and child.
The remark was received with a prolonged 'Ay,' and a murmur of many voices
wishing Sir Philip all success and good fortune.
There was dancing in the spacious ballroom, which was lighted for the
occasion by the three cut-glass chandeliers, surmounted by the royal crown,
which were, it is said, the first made in England, and presented to Sir
Henry Sidney by Queen Elizabeth. Here the younger portion of the guests
enjoyed the dance then so popular, and which was known by the appropriate
name of 'The Brawl.'
The elders had followed Lady Mary Sidney to the room known as Queen
Elizabeth's, where the chairs, draped in yellow satin, and the card-table
covered by the fine silk embroidery worked by the Queen's clever fingers,
were all in their first freshness. On the walls were panels of worked silk,
which the ladies of the family had their share in producing, and between
them hung the portraits of Sir Philip and his brother Robert in childhood
in their stiff and ungainly Court dress, and one of Lady Mary when she came
as a bride to Penshurst--in the pride of her youth and beauty, before the
smallpox
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