and that should satisfy
you." Her voice and manner said more than her words. The hall was
almost dark, and--I have always considered that occasion one of my
lost opportunities; but they are not many.

The next evening Brandon and I, upon Lady Mary's invitation, went up
to her apartments, but did not stay long, fearing some one might find
us there and cause trouble. We would not have gone at all had not the
whole court been absent in London, for discovery would have been a
serious matter to one of us at least.

As I told you once before, Henry did not care how much Brandon might
love his sister, but Buckingham had whispered suspicions of the state
of Mary's heart, and his own observations, together with the
intercepted note, had given these suspicions a stronger coloring, so
that a very small matter might turn them into certainties.

The king had pardoned Brandon for the killing of the two men in
Billingsgate, as he was forced to do under the circumstances, but
there his kindness stopped. After a short time he deprived him of his
place at court, and all that was left for him of royal favor was
permission to remain with me and live at the palace until such time as
he should sail for New Spain.

_CHAPTER XIII_

_A Girl's Consent_

The treaty had been agreed upon, and as to the international
arrangement, at least, the marriage of Louis de Valois and Mary Tudor
was a settled fact. All it needed was the consent of an
eighteen-year-old girl--a small matter, of course, as marriageable
women are but commodities in statecraft, and theoretically, at least,
acquiesce in everything their liege lords ordain. Lady Mary's consent
had been but theoretical, but it was looked upon by every one as
amounting to an actual, vociferated, sonorous "yes;" that is to say,
by every one but the princess, who had no more notion of saying "yes"
than she had of reciting the Sanscrit vocabulary from the pillory of
Smithfield.

Wolsey, whose manner was smooth as an otter's coat, had been sent to
fetch the needed "yes"; but he failed.

Jane told me about it.

Wolsey had gone privately to see the princess, and had thrown out a
sort of skirmish line by flattering her beauty, but had found her not
in the best humor.

"Yes, yes, my lord of Lincoln, I know how beautiful I am; no one knows
better; I know all about my hair, eyes, teeth, eyebrows and skin. I
tell you I am sick of them. Don't talk to me about them; it won't
help you to get