"How cold it is!" shivered Mary. "Put me down a grumbler, but we had warmer houses at The Hague." "But the dress is beautiful!" cried Lady Nottingham, and the five ladies gathered about the bed with exclamations of admiration. It was of white velvet, embroidered with little wreaths of coloured silk flowers opening over a silver petticoat trimmed with flounces of lace. The sewing-maidens eyed it shyly, and blushed at the compliments bestowed. "I must dance in that," smiled Mary. "Dancing used to be one of my prettiest pleasures, as you may remember, my Lady Temple!" "Will Your Majesty try it on?" asked Basilea de Marsac. "Yes," laughed Mary, "the sewing-girls will help me; get you into the other room and make the tea——" The ladies trooped off, and the two sempstresses timidly helped Mary out of her brown velvet and laced her into the state dress. A fire was burning, and the Queen stood between it and the bed, facing the long glass mirror above the mantelshelf that was crowded with china grotesques. As they pinned, arranged, and draped the rich silk about her, Mary felt a sudden great fatigue; her limbs were heavy beneath her, and she gave a little sigh of weariness. The dress was cut very low, and one sleeve was yet unfinished, so her shoulders and left arm were bare save for her shift, and, as she moved for her skirt to be adjusted, that slipped. The Queen noticed this in the mirror, and put up her right hand to draw it up, when suddenly a deep shiver ran through her. She stepped back, clutching the dress together on her shoulder. "It is too dark to see," she said levelly. "There is a silver lamp in my cabinet—will you fetch that?" The sewing-girls looked surprised. The light still held, and there were candles in the room; but they left at once, with respectful courtesies. The instant they had gone the Queen sprang to the door and locked it, then went back to the bed and leant heavily against the post nearest the fire. She felt sick and weak; her head was giddy. "Be quiet—be quiet," she said aloud, and pressed her clenched knuckles against her leaping heart. Only for a second did this weakness endure. She returned to the glass and turned her chemise down; there she saw again what had made her send the sewing-girls away—a large purple patch on the white flesh, unmistakable. For an instant she stood gazing, then sat down in the majestic arm-chair beside the bed. There was another test she knew of—she winced from applying it, yet presently rose and took from a side-table near the tall clock a rat-tailed spoon she used for rose-water. She put the bowl of this far back into her mouth, and then withdrew it; the silver was covered with bright blood. Footsteps sounded without. Mary flung the spoon on to the fire and softly unlocked the door. The sempstresses entered with the silver lamp, dutifully lit and placed it on the mantelshelf. Mary stood holding her garments tightly together on her breast.