It is curious that an Englishman, who was devoting his energies to the release of British commerce from the grasp of the foreigner, should have gone abroad for the material and the workmen for what was to be the monument of English commercial independence. Is it possible that Sir Thomas Gresham had just that touch of snobbery in small matters--so common a trait of the English character, which professes admiration for everything foreign so long as English interests are not seriously attacked?--the same sort of snobbery which a few years ago filled a suburban drawing room with cheap books and photographs of the Rhine and Switzerland, and found no place for any views of England. However that may be, the first Royal Exchange had little that was English in its composition, even that gallery in which Queen Elizabeth made her clear speech, declaring that henceforth the building was to be the Royal Exchange, must have an outlandish name. It was called the “Pawn,” and like the rest of the Exchange, was lit up--brilliantly for those days--in the Italian style with coloured glass cups full of burning grease, and great wax torches burning in sconces on the walls. The Pawn was decorated with rich hangings and carpets from the East, and the shops glittered with glass and jewellery, silver and gold. From the ceremony the Queen returned to Somerset House through the lighted streets by way of Cheapside and Temple Bar--all London was abroad, jostling in the narrow ways, a torrent of splendid colour, ringing cheers, and the orange splashes of torch flames. The Queen could not but be moved. “It does my heart good,” she cried, “to see my subjects so loyal and myself so well beloved.” The tears came into her eyes, and she whispered to La Motte Fénélon, who rode at her side, “My people have only one regret--they know me to be mortal and that I have no child to reign over them after my death.” La Motte Fénélon was touched, as no doubt he was meant to be. Her sincerity was apparent to him, and he had greater hopes than ever that the Duc D’Anjou would sit by her side on the Throne of England. Very likely she _was_ sincere, but she was too subtle a woman and too wary a Queen not to make use of her sincerity to fortify that throne of hers which meant so much to the prosperity of her people.