Brion never forgot that smile, nor the strange episode, so startling by contrast, which succeeded. The procession went by, and passed, and taking a bend of the road was lost to sight; and then, gazing up in his master’s face, he assumed dumbly that they were to return home. But the pedagogue, answering the look nervously, told him to tarry yet a little while, lest perchance some late stragglers should follow and be missed by them. And so, indeed, it turned out; for there appeared presently, coming unhasted along the road, a gentleman and his lady, who, it seemed, had lagged behind the stream, or so far failed to join it. They rode leisurely, looking about them, until, espying the couple standing there, the lady, it seemed, gave a little start, and, speaking to her companion, the two came on and drew rein, as if carelessly, close over against the waiting pair. Brion could have thought some sign of intelligence passed between the gentleman and Mr Angell; but his attention was immediately drawn to the lady, who was dwelling on him with a very strange expression. She was pale and sad to look at, like chastened youth, but of so sweet a cast of features that he loved her then and there. In years she might have numbered some six less than her cavalier--who was a man of thirty-three thereabouts--as surely as in attractiveness she exceeded him; for though he was a bold and handsome man, and carried the splendour of his apparel with a great air, there was such a look of craft and hardness in his eyes as discounted all the rest. He sat impatiently, as if unwillingly conceding something to a weakness; but he too stared at the boy, and with strange unfriendly vision, which yet seemed to find something whimsical in their object. The lady leaned from her saddle, murmuring:-- ‘A very flower to greet us by the way. Hast seen the sweet Queen pass by, my babe?’ The word seemed to linger on her lips. She gazed at Brion as if she would have devoured him. He answered: ‘Yes, Madam; but thou art the prettier.’ She put her finger to her lips, while the gentleman laughed. ‘Hush!’ she said. ‘Talk’st treason, my pretty one. Shall I be thy first lover, then? Mount hither, while I buss thee.’ Mr Angell put his hands under the child’s armpits, and lifted him up. ‘Set thy little foot in the stirrup,’ said the lady, and she wound an arm about him, and, holding him tightly, first searched him in the face, then pressed her lips to his. ‘Art happy?’ she whispered in his ear, and something seemed to trickle down his cheek. ‘Yes, Madam,’ he answered in likewise low, for in his heart he felt this to be a confidence. ‘That is well,’ she whispered back; and at that moment there was a sound of returning hoofs on the road, and a varlet came spurring towards them and drew up close beside. ‘My Lord of Leicester,’ said the man: ‘the Queen’s Majesty asks for you.’