"Greville speaks of that of which he knows naught," said Lady Stafford sharply. "He hath let the gossip of the court fill him to repletion. It hath been said that Mary was a wicked woman, yet I believe it not. That she desireth her liberty is no crime, but rather the longing of all nature to be free. Mary is the daughter and the granddaughter of a king. Sometime queen of France, and crowned queen of Scotland. She is cousin german to Elizabeth, and if common natures cannot brook confinement what wonder is it that she sighs for freedom? This desire hath caused her to attempt escape often by the aid of friends, and given rise to the belief that many would raise her to the throne." "Is Elizabeth beautiful, mother? Greville says that she is the most lovely woman in the world. That none can compare with her for beauty, or for learning." Lady Stafford laughed and then checked herself. "Child," she said, "it is my prayer that thou wilt grow here in thine own home as a wild flower without sight of queen or court. But if it should chance, which God forfend, that thou art called to the court, then remember what thy tutor hath told thee, and count the queen the most beautiful of women." "But is she?" "The queen is learned, child, beyond what is usual for her sex. Greville will tell thee that there never was her like for knowledge, save and except the Lady Jane Grey, the which would be treason to speak. I mind well when Elizabeth was crowned that she was fair to look upon, but that was twenty-eight years ago. The queen is now past fifty years of age. Doth a flower retain its loveliness forever? I trow not. Yet methinks I do but ill in speaking thus to thee. Elizabeth believes that time for her hath stopped, and that age but enhances those charms which are the pride of women. Yet I have heard otherwise." "You go not to court, my mother. Why?" "Because of its troubles and its dangers, Francis. Better to bide afar off in this remote spot than to dwell among the jealousies of courtiers. The favor of princes is uncertain, and even royalty is not always well disposed toward the happiness of a subject. I would fain never behold the court again, and I pray that thou mayst never be called to its treacherous pleasures." "Art thou here, my child?" asked Lord Stafford coming in at this moment. "This is a favorable time, I ween, for me to unfold my wishes to thee. Madam, will you bring the page's dress?" Lady Stafford arose and drew from a chest of drawers the doublet, hose and short cloak of a page. "Withdraw, Francis, to the tiring room, and don these habiliments," commanded her father. "But why," began the girl, but Lord Stafford waved his hand impatiently. "Do as I tell thee, girl. When thou art habited, return and hear the reason for thy strange attire." Presently with a merry laugh Francis bounded into the room, and, doffing the jaunty bonnet that perched upon her tresses, swept him a deep bow.