"Child, child," exclaimed the lady startled by the girl's vehemence. "Thou hast too much of thy sire in thee for a girl. I fear such spirit. Study lowliness, for a woman should be meek. Stifle whatever of questioning may come into thy heart, and render implicit obedience to thy father." "That I will do, mother. Have I not ever reverenced him? 'Tis pleasure to obey his will. The more because I have so much of him in me. 'Twas he who taught me how to string a bow, and 'twas he who guided my maiden hand and eye until had I a brother he could not excel in hunting or hawking." "I know, my daughter, yet my heart misgives me because of these very things. Hadst thou been a boy all this would not come amiss. But thou art a girl, and full of the weaknesses of women despite thy skill in men's sports. Nature, howsoe'er disguised, will soon or late assert herself. Thou art a woman, therefore again I say, steep thy soul in humility. I fear that haughtiness in thee which thy father doth abet. Methinks it bodes but ill both to thee and to him. But this give ear to: in all things be submissive to thy father. Heedst thou, Francis?" "Yes, my mother." "I have thus spoken because dire forebodings have seized me of late. Thy proud spirit ill brooks authority, and thou wilt soon be of an age when if thy will should clash with thy father's, I trow not the consequences. Therefore have I counseled thee. But of this no more." For a time the two sat in silence, and then Francis broke the quiet: "My mother, there is something that I would fain ask." "Say on, my child." "When I speak of it to Master Greville he calls me disloyal, but I mean it not so. 'Tis only that I would know. My mother, why doth Elizabeth reign as queen if our rightful queen is Mary of Scotland? Dost thou believe her to be the true heiress to the crown?" "Yes, child; as what true adherent of the faith doth not? Yet hath Elizabeth been a good queen save and except that she hath made severe laws against the exercise of our religion. But England hath truly prospered under her." "But there be some that would willingly raise Mary to the throne, are there not?" "'Tis treason to say so, but there be some in very truth. 'Tis because the queen fears them that she hath kept Mary so long a prisoner." "How long hath it been, mother?" "Near nineteen years. It is a long, long time. She was full of youth and beauty when she set foot upon English soil, but now she hath grown old before her time with disease and confinement. Truly the queen hath dealt harshly with her own kin." "Master Greville saith that she is a cruel bad woman, and that if she could compass the death of our queen she would do so."