a piece of a fine kerchief, tied round with a tress
of dark hair, and within, Susan knew by the feeling, a certain chess
rook which had been won by Cis when shooting at the butts a week or two
before.

CHAPTER X.

THE LADY ARBELL.

After several weary months of languishing, Charles Stewart was saved
from the miseries which seemed the natural inheritance of his name by
sinking into his grave. His funeral was conducted with the utmost
magnificence, though the Earl of Shrewsbury declined to be present at
it, and shortly after, the Countess intimated her purpose of returning
to Sheffield, bringing with her the little orphan, Lady Arabella
Stewart. Orders came that the best presence chamber in the Manor-house
should be prepared, the same indeed where Queen Mary had been quartered
before the lodge had been built for her use. The Earl was greatly
perturbed. "Whom can she intend to bring?" he went about asking. "If
it were the Lady Margaret, it were be much as my head were worth to
admit her within the same grounds as this Queen."

"There is no love lost between the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law,"
observed his son Gilbert in a consolatory tone.

"Little good would that do to me, if once it came to the ears of her
Grace and the Lord Treasurer that both had been my guests! And if I
had to close the gates--though in no other way could I save my life and
honour--your mother would never forget it. It would be cast up to me
for ever. What think you, daughter Talbot?"

"Mayhap," said Dame Mary, "my lady mother has had a hint to make ready
for her Majesty herself, who hath so often spoken of seeing the Queen
of Scots, and might think well to take her unawares."

This was a formidable suggestion. "Say you so," cried the poor Earl,
with an alarm his eye would never have betrayed had Parma himself been
within a march of Sheffield, "then were we fairly spent. I am an
impoverished man, eaten out of house and lands as it is, and were the
Queen herself to come, I might take at once to the beggar's bowl."

"But think of the honour, good my lord," cried Mary. "Think of all
Hallamshire coming to do her homage. Oh, how I should laugh to hear
the Mayor stumbling over his address."

"Laugh, ay," growled the Earl; "and how will you laugh when there is
not a deer left in the park, nor an ox in the stalls?"

"Nay, my Lord," interposed Gilbert, "there is no fear of her Majesty's
coming. That post from M. de la Mauv