d upright, and there
seemed no disposition to rush upon these. Lord Clarendon, uncle to
the Princess, had satisfied himself that she had really escaped, and
he now came out and assured the mob, in a stentorian voice, that he
was perfectly satisfied of his niece's safety, waving the letter she
had left on her toilet-table.

The mob shouted, "Bless the Princess! Hurrah for the Protestant
faith! No warming-pans!" but in a good-tempered mood; and the poor
little garrison breathed more freely; but Anne did not feel herself
forgiven. She was in a manner sent to Coventry, and treated as if
she were on the enemy's side. Never had her proud nature suffered
so much, and she shed bitter tears as she said to herself, "It is
very unjust! What could I have done? How could I stop Her Highness
from speaking? Could they expect me to run in and accuse her? Oh,
that I were at home again! Mother, mother, you little know! Of
what use am I now?"

It was the very question asked by Hester Bridgeman, whom she found
packing her clothes in her room.

"Take care that this is sent after me," she said, "when a messenger
I shall send calls for it."

"What, you have your dismissal?"

"No, I should no more get it than you have done. They cannot afford
to let any one go, you see, or they will have to dress up the
chambermaids to stand behind the Queen's chair. I have settled it
with my cousin, Harry Bridgeman, I shall mix with the throng that
come to ask for news, and be off with him before the crowd breaks
in, as they will some of these days, for the guards are but half-
hearted. My Portia, why did not you take a good offer, and go with
the Princess?"

"I thought it would be base."

"And much you gained by it! You are only suspected and accused."

"I can't be a rat leaving a sinking ship."

"That is courteous, but I forgive it, Portia, as I know you will
repent of your folly. But you never did know which side to look for
the butter."

Perhaps seeing how ugly desertion and defection looked in others
made constancy easier to Anne, much as she longed for the Close at
Winchester, and she even thought with a hope of the Golden Lamb,
Gracechurch, as an immediate haven sure to give her a welcome.

Her occupation of reading to the Queen was ended by the King's
return, so physically exhausted by violent nose-bleeding, so
despondent at the universal desertion, and so broken-hearted at his
daughter's defection, that his wife was ab