“He is inexperienced, madam,” urged the bishop; “and after this salutary lesson——” “No more, my lord,” interrupted the Queen, a shade passing over her features, “it is too late.” “Too late!” echoed Gardiner. “Am I to understand your highness has made another engagement?” “You are to understand nothing more than you are told, my lord,” replied Mary, angrily. “In due season you shall know all.” As Gardiner bowed in acquiescence, he perceived the miniature of Philip of Spain lying on the table, and a sudden apprehension of the truth crossed him. “There is one person upon whom I should chiefly desire your highness’s choice not to fall,1’ he said. “And that is—?” interrupted Mary. “Philip of Spain,” answered Gardiner. “What objections have you to him, my lord?” demanded the queen, uneasily. “My objections are threefold,” rejoined Gardiner. “First, I dislike the tyrannical character of the prince, which would be ill-suited to render your highness’s union a happy one. Secondly, I am assured that the match would be disagreeable to your subjects—the English nation not being able to brook a foreign yoke; and of all dominations none being so intolerable as that of Spain. Thirdly, the alliance would plunge us in endless wars with France—a country that would never tamely submit to such a formidable extension of power, as this would prove, on the part of its old enemy, Charles the Fifth.” “If not Philip of Spain, whom would you recommend me?” asked Mary, who was anxious to mislead him. “One of your own nobles,” replied Gardiner; “by which means your authority would be unabridged. Whereas, if you wed a prince, odious for his tyranny in the eyes of all Europe”——— “No more of this, my lord,” interrupted Mary, hastily. “Madam,” said Gardiner, “however I may risk displeasing you, I should be wanting in duty, in loyalty, and in sincerity, were I not strongly to warn you against a match with Philip of Spain. It will be fatal to your own happiness—fatal to the welfare of your people.” “I have already said it is too late,” sighed Mary. “Your Majesty has not affianced yourself to him,” cried Gardiner, anxiously.. “Question me no further,” rejoined Mary. “What is done is done.” “Alas! madam,” cried Gardiner, “I understand your words too well. You have taken a perilous step, at the instigation of evil counsellors, and under the influence of evil passions. God grant good may come of it!” “These are mere surmises on your part, my lord,” returned Mary. “I have not told you I have taken any step.” “But your majesty leads me to infer it,” answered the bishop. “For your own sake, and for the sake of your kingdom, I trust my fears are unfounded.” As he spoke, an usher approached, and informed the queen that the imperial ambassador, Simon Renard, desired an audience. “Admit him,” said Mary. “Farewell, my lord,” she added, turning to Gardiner; “I will weigh what you have said.”