“Uncle,” she said passionately, “I know what my father was--may God forgive him. From my babyhood it has been told me--that he was my shame. In my childhood it was rated in my ears, and in my girlhood it was forced upon me by the indifferent treatment of those who should have befriended me, the canting patronage that made a kindness to me a charity. ’Twas not my fault, God knows, that he fathered me; had I had the choosing, it should have been otherwise, but yet I suffer for it. I am to be sold as chattel, it would seem, because, forsooth, I am my father’s child; but I swear that the man who buys me shall find that I have enough of my father in me to make his purchase a thorn in his flesh and a curse to his peace!” “That I warrant, wench,” Carew said grimly, “and I think that he will scarcely break thy will unless he breaks thy neck. Surely, I will not try to force thee. Henge shall know that thou art so set against the marriage that it may not be. And now, my girl, make ready to go back to Greenwich, for in my pocket is thy appointment as maid of honor to the queen’s grace.” A change came over Betty’s face, and then she answered with more composure. “I had no wish to serve Queen Anne,” she said; “I cannot put the dead queen from my mind, but this one has been ill, too, and in trouble. ’Tis well that I should be no longer a burden here; I will go right cheerfully, and I thank you for it, uncle.” Sir William laid his hand upon her shoulder. “My wench,” he said, not unkindly, “think not so ill of me that I begrudge my orphan niece her bread. I did but try you. I had no wish for you to wed this Henge, though there be many worse, for men are not the paragons of a young maid’s dreams. But you will meet him at Greenwich, and mark me, Betty, bear yourself courteously toward him. ’Tis said of him that he has the spite and venom of a spider, and he is mad with love of that fair face of yours; and truly he has the claim of a precontract, albeit he shall not have you against your will. But these are dangerous times, and I have heard that he has the ear of my lord privy seal, though I do suspect him of being a malcontent and hating Cromwell, while he fawns upon him. Make a friend of this young queen, and perchance she may do you a great service. They say that the king’s highness is not well pleased with her, but I take this for idle rumor; for I remember when he used to ride to Hever Castle to court her, as ardent as a boy. ’Tis but a passing cloud and her sun will burst forth again to scorch those who have endeavored to work mischief against her, as was the case of my lord cardinal. I esteem it a good fortune to get this appointment for you, which I did through Mrs. Wyatt, the queen’s particular friend. We will leave Sir Barton to Zenobia, who torments him as a cat does a mouse; and haste you, for in an hour we go by the river to Greenwich.” CHAPTER XIII THE QUEEN AT GREENWICH