"With two thousand gowns she may well afford to spoil one for every shower," said one lady to another. This was before the days of umbrellas, but there was nothing to do save to hope for sunshine. The hour for the walk came, and the queen went forth. The sun had come out. "Someone has been praying for clear skies," said she, "and verily I wish he had broadened his prayer a bit and prayed also for dry ground." "It must have been young Raleigh," said one of the ladies to another a little pointedly. "He loves to dwell in the sunshine as the moth loves the beam of the candle." "There isn't another man in England who can tell just what to do in any difficulty as well as he," declared another lady. "Then I would that he were here now," whispered the first. "The queen will go straight across that miry place, and if she is ill, we shall have to bear the blame." "There he comes as if he had been sent for by courier," said the second, for Raleigh was approaching. He was decked out in the bravest attire and was daintily picking his way along the muddy road. "It's but this day week that he had a new scarlet cloak," said a lady in the train, "and see the gorgeousness of the blue plush that he wears this morning! I'll warrant he put his last shilling into it." The queen hesitated a moment, but there was no hesitation in Raleigh. Quick as thought, he slipped off the shining blue plush mantle and spread it on the ground before Elizabeth. "She who is to her devoted people the glory of the sunlight must never fail to see under her feet the reflection of that clear sky which her shining has bestowed upon her fortunate subjects." So said the courtier, and he well knew that in the glance of approval given him by Elizabeth lay the promise of many cloaks.