visit, and had been disgraced and expelled from
court in the most cruel manner by order of the king himself.

Now, added to Mary's old-time desire to see Grouche, came a longing to
know the outcome of the present momentous complication of affairs that
touched her so closely.

She could not wait for Time to unfold himself, and drop his budget of
events as he traveled, but she must plunge ahead of him, and know,
beforehand, the stores of the fates--an intrusion they usually resent.
I need not tell you that was Mary's only object in going, nor that her
heart was as pure as a babe's--quite as chaste and almost as innocent.
It is equally true that the large proportion of persons who visited
Grouche made his soothsaying an excuse. The thought of how wretched
life would be with Louis had put into Mary's mind the thought of how
sweet it would be with Brandon. Then came the wish that Brandon had
been a prince, or even a great English nobleman; and then leaped up,
all rainbow-hued, the hope that he might yet, by reason of his own
great virtues, rise to all of these, and she become his wife. But at
the threshold of this fair castle came knocking the thought that
perhaps he did not care for her, and had deceived her to gain her
favors. Then she flushed with anger and swore to herself she hated
him, and hoped never to see his face again. And the castle faded and
was wafted away to the realms of airy nothingness.

Ah! how people will sometimes lie to themselves; and sensible people
at that.

So Mary wanted to see Grouche; first, through curiosity, in itself a
stronger motive than we give it credit for; second, to learn if she
would be able to dissuade Henry from the French marriage and perhaps
catch a hint how to do it; and last, but by no means least, to
discover the state of Brandon's heart toward her.

By this time the last-named motive was strong enough to draw her any
whither, although she would not acknowledge it, even to herself, and
in truth hardly knew it; so full are we of things we know not of.

So she determined to go to see Grouche secretly, and was confident she
could arrange the visit in such a way that it would never be
discovered.

One morning I met Jane, who told me, with troubled face, that she and
Mary were going to London to make some purchases, would lodge at
Bridewell House, and go over to Billingsgate that evening to consult
Grouche. Mary had taken the whim into her wilful head, and Jane could
not di