"You speak truly, madam," returned Lord Shrope. "I know not what is the nature of the rumors, but knowing Francis Stafford, I make bold to say that Rumor hath played thee false." "We shall see, my lord," was Elizabeth's reply. Lord Shrope feared to press the matter, but as soon as it was expedient he hastened to seek Francis. "The tide hath turned, child," he ejaculated. "Fate hath at last become propitious to thee, for Elizabeth hath begun to look upon thee with kindness. The accident of the hair hath done for thee what naught else hath been able to do," and he told her what the queen had said. To his surprise Francis was not so elated as he expected. On the contrary his words filled her with alarm. "Said the queen of what the rumors consisted?" she asked with uneasiness. "No, child; but there can be naught of harm in them. Thy life hath been so innocent in thy Hampshire wilds that there is no act or thought of thine but could be laid open to the queen. Thou hast naught to fear from any gossip. 'Tis only when conscious of baseness that we fear to have our lives searched. Thou hast done nothing wrong; therefore fear nothing." "My lord," said Francis touched by his faith, "you honor me too much. Pray Heaven that you may never have cause to repent your words." "Tut, child! why should I repent them? Now be advised by me, and take advantage of the humor of the queen. A good husbandman, as thou knowest, improves the sunshine to make hay. We must do likewise. It is the queen's habit to repair to her closet to play each day upon the virginals. This she doeth for the most part privately, but, as she plays markedly well, she is not ill pleased to have others hear her. Especially is this true if it transpires accidentally. Now do you place yourself in the gallery behind the arras. When the queen plays seem to be drawn into her presence by the sweetness of her music, even as Orpheus drew Eurydice from among the demons. Then excuse thy intrusion with some well-timed phrase. Elizabeth is great, but she hath a weakness for judicious flattery the which, in truth, doth not ill accord with her femininity. Then, if she receive thee graciously, throw thyself upon her mercy and confess all." "But, my lord, doth it not savor too much of guile?" objected Francis, her spirit revolting at the manner of the transaction. "It doth, Francis, but what would you? 'Tis the manner of all courts, and the queen is not deceived thereby. Such things the rather appeal to her if the fashion of them be adroit. What boots the method then if the end is accomplished, and the queen pleased. No harm is done." "My lord, I like not the style of it. It seemeth to me that nothing is ever done in a straightforward manner any more. Is life full of naught but crookedness and devious windings and turnings? Let me go to the queen openly, I beseech you."