ld be greater than between the middle-aged Maiden Queen pluming
her feathers to win the hearts of her courtiers, and listening with
satisfaction to the broadest flattery with which they could approach her,
and the sovereign of a nation in times which must ever stand out in the
history of England as the most remarkable the country has ever known,
gravely deliberating with such men as Lord Burleigh and Sir Francis
Walsingham on the affairs of State at home and abroad.

Elizabeth had scarcely seated herself in her chair, and was about to summon
Sir Francis Walsingham, when one of the pages-in-waiting came in, and,
bending his knee, said,--

'Mr Philip Sidney craves an audience with your Highness.'

Philip was only waiting in the ante-chamber to be announced, and, being
secure of his welcome, had followed the page into the Queen's presence,
and, before Elizabeth had time to speak, he was on his knees before her,
kissing the hand she held out to him.

'Nay, Philip, I scarce know whether I will receive you--a truant should be
whipped as a punishment--but, mayhap, this will do as well for the nonce,'
and the Queen stroked Philip Sidney on both cheeks, saying, 'The gem of my
Court, how has it fared with him?'

'As well as with any man while absent from you, fair Queen. Gems,' he added
playfully, 'do not shine in the dark, they need the sun to call forth their
brightness, and you are my sun; apart from you, how can I shine?'

'A pretty conceit,' Elizabeth said. 'But tell me, Philip, are things put in
train for the due observance of such an event as the coming of the
delegates from France? It is a momentous occasion to all concerned.'

'It is, indeed, Madam,' Philip Sidney said, 'and I pray it may result in
happiness for you and this kingdom.'

'Nay, now, Philip, are you going back to what you dared to say of
disapproval of this marriage three years ago? I would fain hope not, for
your own sake.'

'Madam, I then, in all humility, delivered to you my sentiments. You were
not pleased to hear them, and I was so miserable as to offend you.'

'Yes, and,' using her favourite oath 'you will again offend me if you
revive the old protest, so have a care. We exercise our royal prerogative
in the matter of marriage, and I purpose to wed with the Duke of Anjou,
come what may.'

'I know it, Madam, and, as your faithful subject, I am doing my utmost to
make the coming jousts worthy of your approval and worthy of the occasion.
The F