ung man, to which her Majesty was a party.

After dinner the Stanleys came a-wooing. The party consisted of father,
son, and four retainers, who looked as if they had been preserved in
alcohol for the occasion, so red were their faces.

The Earl of Derby was a fine old gentleman of the rural type. His noble
son was an uncouth rustic, who had no thought above a stable boy or tavern
maid, nor any ambition above horse trading. His attire was a wonder to
behold. He wore a ruff of stupendous proportions. His trunks were so
puffed out and preposterous in size that they looked like a great painted
knot on a tree; and the many-colored splendors of his sleeves, his hat,
his hose, and his shoes were dazzling to the eye. Add to this wondrous
raiment feet and hands that could not be satisfactorily disposed of, and
an unrest of manner painful to behold, and you may possibly conceive the
grandiose absurdity of Dorothy's wooer. The sight of him almost made Sir
George ill; and his entrance into the long gallery, where the queen was
seated with her ladies and gentlemen, and Sir George and his friends
standing about her, was a signal for laughter in which her Majesty openly
joined.

I shall not lead you through the tedious ceremony of presentation and
introduction, nor shall I tell you of the pompous manner in which one of
the earl's retinue, a lawyer, read the marriage contract. The fact that
the contract was read without the presence of Dorothy, whom it so nearly
concerned, was significant of the small consideration which at that time
was given to a girl's consent. When all was ready for the signing, Dorothy
was summoned.

Sir George stood beside the Stanleys, and his nervousness was painfully
apparent. Two servants opened the great doors at the end of the long
gallery, and Dorothy, holding up the skirt of her gown, bounded into the
room. She kneeled to the queen, and turned toward her uncle Stanley and
her lover-cousin with a low bow. Then she courtesied and said--

"Good even, uncle, and how do you do, cousin. Have you come to inspect me,
and, perchance, to buy?"

Sir George's face bore an expression of mingled shame, wonder, and alarm,
and the queen and her suite laughed behind their fans.

"It is well," continued Dorothy. "Here am I, ready for inspection."
Thereupon she began to disrobe herself before the entire company.
Leicester laughed outright, and the queen and her ladies suppressed their
merriment for a moment, and the