The author of _The Life of Jane Dormer, Duchess of Feria_ observes, in the stiff phraseology of the time, that when she grew older she was commended “to the most noble and Catholic princess, the lady Mary, so persuaded by her grandfather Sidney, whom two of his daughters had served before, and died in her service much favoured of her Highness for their virtue. When the queens (the wives of King Henry) had sought with much importunity to have them in their service, they would by no means leave the lady Mary, although the King himself requested it. In those days the house of this princess was the only harbour for honourable young gentlewomen given any way to piety and devotion. It was the true school of virtuous demeanour, befitting the education that ought to be in noble damsels, and the greatest lords of the kingdom were suitors to her to receive their daughters in her service.“[220] It was perhaps mainly on account of the esteem in which she was held, at home and abroad, that Mary was the object of so jealous a supervision on the part of Henry’s Council. The parents and guardians of the many “_noble damsels_” who desired an asylum in her house were peremptorily informed that she might have no more than the prescribed number; and occasionally one or two would be dismissed in the most arbitrary manner, no reason being given. Her every movement was watched with suspicion, and even when she was supposed to be enjoying her father’s favour, she was continually on the verge of losing it, for the most innocent causes. She could not exercise the least hospitality without being subjected to annoyance, and in May 1538, the fact of her having entertained guests, whom she allowed to sleep under her roof, was made a matter of accusation to the Council. Her reply to Cromwell’s remonstrance and warning is significant of the bondage in which she was held. “MY LORD,