erest of one to whom most of the parties were
more or less known, and who seldom had the treat of a little feminine
gossip. She asked who had been "her little Cis's partner," and when
she heard of Babington, she said, "Ah ha, then, the poor youth has made
his peace with my Lord?"

"Certes, madam, he is regarded with high favour by both my Lord and my
Lady," said Richard, heartily wishing himself rid of his host.

"I rejoice to hear it," said Mary; "I was afraid that his childish
knight-errantry towards the captive dame had damaged the poor
stripling's prospects for ever. He is our neighbour here, and I
believe Sir Ralf regards him as somewhat perilous."

"Nay, madam, if my Lord of Shrewsbury be satisfied with him, so surely
ought I to be," said Sir Ralf.

Nothing more of importance passed that night. The packet of accounts
was handed over to Sir Andrew Melville, and the two gentlemen dismissed
with gracious good-nights.

Richard Talbot was entirely trusted, and when the next morning after
prayers, breakfast, and a turn among the stables, it was intimated that
the Queen was ready to see him anent my Lord's business, Sir Ralf
Sadler, who had his week's report to write to the Council, requested
that his presence might be dispensed with, and thus Mr. Talbot was
ushered into the Queen's closet without any witnesses to their
interview save Sir Andrew Melville and Marie de Courcelles. The Queen
was seated in a large chair, leaning against cushions, and evidently in
a good deal of pain, but, as Richard made his obeisance, her eyes shone
as she quoted two lines from an old Scotch ballad--

"'Madame, how does my gay goss hawk?
Madame, how does my doo?'

Now can I hear what I hunger for!"

"My gay gosshawk, madam, is flown to join Sir Francis Drake at
Plymouth, and taken his little brother with him. I come now from
speeding them as far as Derby."

"Ah! you must not ask me to pray for success to them, my good
sir,--only that there may be a time when nations may be no more
divided, and I fear me we shall not live to see it. And my doo--my
little Cis, did she weep as became a sister for the bold laddies?"

"She wept many tears, madam, but we are sore perplexed by a matter that
I must lay before your Grace. My Lady Countess is hotly bent on a
match between the maiden and young Babington."

"Babington!" exclaimed the Queen, with the lioness sparkle in her eye.
"You refused the fellow of course?