he called the tardy
fulfilment of judgment. Yet though he thought it a weakness, he did
not refuse, and ere night Mr. Talbot was able to send formal word that
the horses would be ready for Mistress Cicely at break of day the next
morning.

The message was transmitted through the ladies as the Queen sat writing
at her table, and she at once gave orders to Elizabeth Curll to prepare
the cloak bag with necessaries for the journey.

Cicely cried out, "O madam my mother, do not send me from you!"

"There is no help for it, little one. It is the only hope of safety or
happiness for thee."

"But I pledged myself to await Queen Elizabeth's reply here!"

"She has replied," said Mary.

"How?" cried Cicely. "Methought your letter confirming mine offers had
not yet been sent."

"It hath not, but she hath made known to me that she rejects thy terms,
my poor maid."

"Is there then no hope?" said the girl, under her breath, which came
short with dismay.

"Hope! yea," said Mary, with a ray of brightness on her face, "but not
earthly hope. That is over, and I am more at rest and peace than I can
remember to have been since I was a babe at my mother's knee. But,
little one, I must preserve thee for thine Humfrey and for happiness,
and so thou must be gone ere the hounds be on thy track."

"Never, mother, I cannot leave you. You bid no one else to go!" said
Cis, clinging to her with a face bathed in tears.

"No one else is imperilled by remaining as thy bold venture has
imperilled thee, my sweet maid. Think, child, how fears for thee would
disturb my spirit, when I would fain commune only with Heaven. Seest
thou not that to lose thy dear presence for the few days left to me
will be far better for me than to be rent with anxiety for thee, and it
may be to see thee snatched from me by these stern, harsh men?"

"To quit you now! It is unnatural! I cannot."

"You will go, child. As Queen and as mother alike, I lay my commands
on you. Let not the last, almost the only commands I ever gave thee be
transgressed, and waste not these last hours in a vain strife."

She spoke with an authority against which Cis had no appeal, save by
holding her hand tight and covering it with kisses and tears. Mary
presently released her hand and went on writing, giving her a little
time to restrain her agony of bitter weeping. The first words spoken
were, "I shall not name thee in my will, nor recommend thee to thy
brother. It would