's departure, Mary, with the king's consent,
organized a small party to go over to Windsor for a few weeks during
the warm weather.

There were ten or twelve of us, including two chaperons, the old Earl
of Hertford and the dowager Duchess of Kent. Henry might as well have
sent along a pair of spaniels to act as chaperons--it would have taken
an army to guard Mary alone--and to tell you the truth our old
chaperons needed watching more than any of us. It was scandalous. Each
of them had a touch of gout, and when they made wry faces it was a
standing inquiry among us whether they were leering at each other or
felt a twinge--whether it was their feet or their hearts, that
troubled them.

Mary led them a pretty life at all times, even at home in the palace,
and I know they would rather have gone off with a pack of imps than
with us. The inducement was that it gave them better opportunities to
be together--an arrangement connived at by the queen, I think--and
they were satisfied. The earl had a wife, but he fancied the old
dowager and she fancied him, and probably the wife fancied somebody
else, so they were all happy. It greatly amused the young people, you
may be sure, and Mary said, probably without telling the exact truth,
that every night she prayed God to pity and forgive their ugliness.
One day the princess said she was becoming alarmed; their ugliness was
so intense she feared it might be contagious and spread. Then, with a
most comical seriousness, she added:

"Mon Dieu! Sir Edwin, what if I should catch it? Master Charles would
not take me."

"No danger of that, my lady; he is too devoted to see anything but
beauty in you, no matter how much you might change."

"Do you really think so? He says so little about it that sometimes I
almost doubt."

Therein she spoke the secret of Brandon's success with her, at least
in the beginning; for there is wonderful potency in the stimulus of a
healthy little doubt.

We had a delightful canter over to Windsor, I riding with Mary most of
the way. I was not averse to this arrangement, as I not only relished
Mary's mirth and joyousness, which was at its height, but hoped I
might give my little Lady Jane a twinge or two of jealousy perchance
to fertilize her sentiments toward me.

Mary talked, and laughed, and sang, for her soul was a fountain of
gladness that bubbled up the instant pressure was removed. She spoke
of little but our last trip over this same road, and, as we