The peace which reigned seemed to strike him as a sharp contrast with the turmoil and noise of the city he had lately left. The Court, so full of heart-burnings and jealousies and strivings to win a higher place in the favour of those who were in favour with the Queen. The image of him who was, perhaps, at that time Elizabeth's chief favourite rose before him, and he thought how far happier he would be to live, apart from Court favour and rivalries, in the stately home which was the pride, not only of the Sidneys themselves, but of everyone of their tenants and dependents on their wide-stretching domain. For Humphrey could not hide from himself that his chief was often sad at heart, and that sometimes, in uncontrollable weariness, he would say that he would fain lead a retired life in his beloved Penshurst. His moods were, it is true, variable, and at times he was the centre of everything that was bright and gay at Court, sought after as one who could discourse sweetest music, the most graceful figure in the dance, the most accomplished poet who could quickly improvise a verse in praise of his Queen, or a rhyme to commemorate some feat of arms at joust or tourney, like that of the preceding day. Humphrey Ratcliffe thought that he held the solution of his Master's alternations of sadness and cheerfulness, and, as he rode up to the Manor, he sighed as he remembered Philip Sidney's words. 'Let us hope you may attain your heart's desire, nor have it ever denied you, as is God's will for me.' 'Denied to me also, but yet I have a hope, Mr Sidney cannot have; no impassable barrier rises between me and Mary. If I find her boy I may reap my reward.' At the sound of the horse's feet the casement above the porch was opened, and a woman's head was thrust out. 'Who goes there?' 'It is I, Humphrey Ratcliffe. I have an errand to Mistress Gifford.' 'She is sick, and can't hear aught to-night. It is near midnight. Go your way, and return in the morning, Master Ratcliffe.' Then there was a pause, the woman's head was withdrawn, and Humphrey's ear, quickened by love, heard Mary's voice in pathetic pleading. Presently the head re-appeared. 'Mistress Gifford says, "Do you bring news?"' 'I would fain see her, if possible. I cannot speak of such matters here.' 'Then you must wait till the morrow, nor parley any longer.' The casement was shut with a sharp click, and there was nothing left for Humphrey but to pursue his way to his own home, whither George--who had parted from him at Tunbridge--and his servants had preceded him earlier in the day.