"

"Flatly, madam, but your Grace knows that it is ill making the Countess
accept a denial of her will."

Mary laughed "Ah ha! methought, sir, you looked somewhat as if you had
had a recent taste of my Lord of Shrewsbury's dove. But you are a man
to hold your own sturdy will, Master Richard, let Lord or Lady say what
they choose."

"I trust so, madam, I am master of mine own house, and, as I should
certainly not give mine own daughter to Babington, so shall I guard
your Grace's."

"You would not give the child to him if she were your own?"

"No, madam."

"And wherefore not? Because he is too much inclined to the poor
prisoner and her faith? Is it so, sir?"

"Your Grace speaks the truth in part," said Richard, and then with
effort added, "and likewise, madam, with your pardon, I would say that
though I verily believe it is nobleness of heart and spirit that
inclines poor Antony to espouse your Grace's cause, there is to my mind
a shallowness and indiscretion about his nature, even when most in
earnest, such as would make me loath to commit any woman, or any
secret, to his charge."

"You are an honest man, Mr. Talbot," said Mary; "I am glad my poor maid
is in your charge. Tell me, is this suit on his part made to your
daughter or to the Scottish orphan?"

"To the Scottish orphan, madam. Thus much he knows, though by what
means I cannot tell, unless it be through that kinsman of mine, who, as
I told your Grace, saw the babe the night I brought her in."

"Doubtless," responded Mary. "Take care he neither knows more, nor
hints what he doth know to the Countess."

"So far as I can, I will, madam," said Richard, "but his tongue is not
easy to silence; I marvel that he hath not let the secret ooze out
already."

"Proving him to have more discretion than you gave him credit for, my
good sir," said the Queen, smiling. "Refuse him, however, staunchly,
grounding your refusal, if it so please you, on the very causes for
which I should accept him, were the lassie verily what he deems her, my
ward and kinswoman. Nor do you accede to him, whatever word or token
he may declare that he brings from me, unless it bear this mark," and
she hastily traced a peculiar-twisted form of M. "You know it?" she
asked.

"I have seen it, madam," said Richard, gravely, for he knew it as the
letter which had been traced on the child's shoulders.

"Ah, good Master Richard," she said, with a sweet and wistful
expression, looki