s been
coloured."

"Mother, I would that I could go to her; Humfrey has seen and spoken to
her, why should not I?"

"Thou, poor silly maid! They would drive Cis Talbot away with scorn,
and as to Bride Hepburn, why, she would but run into all her mother's
dangers."

"It might be done, and if so I will do it," said Cicely, clasping her
hands together.

"No, child, say no more. My worn-out old life is not worth the risk of
thy young freedom. But I love thee for it, mine ain bairnie, mon
enfant a moi. If thy brother had thy spirit, child--"

"I hate the thought of him! Call him not my brother!" cried Cicely
hotly. "If he were worth one brass farthing he would have unfurled the
Scottish lion long ago, and ridden across the Border to deliver his
mother."

"And how many do you think would have followed that same lion?" said
Mary, sadly.

"Then he should have come alone with his good horse and his good sword!"

"To lose both crowns, if not life! No, no, lassie; he is a pawky
chiel, as they say in the north, and cares not to risk aught for the
mother he hath never seen, and of whom he hath been taught to believe
strange tales."

The more the Queen said in excuse for the indifference of her son, the
stronger was the purpose that grew up in the heart of the daughter,
while fresh commissioners arrived every day, and further conversations
were held with the Queen. Lord Shrewsbury was known to be summoned,
and Cicely spent half her time in watching for some well-known face, in
the hope that he might bring her good foster-father in his train. More
than once she declared that she saw a cap or sleeve with the
well-beloved silver dog, when it turned out to be a wyvern or the royal
lion himself. Queen Mary even laughed at her for thinking her mastiff
had gone on his hind legs when she once even imagined him in the
Warwick Bear and ragged staff.

At last, however, all unexpectedly, while the Queen was in conference
with Hatton, there came a message by the steward of the household, that
Master Richard Talbot had arrived, and that permission had been granted
by Sir Amias for him to speak with Mistress Cicely. She sprang up
joyously, but Mrs. Kennedy demurred.

"Set him up!" quoth she. "My certie, things are come to a pretty pass
that any one's permission save her Majesty's should be speired for one
of her women, and I wonder that you, my mistress, should be the last to
think of her honour!"

"O Mrs. Kennedy, dea