will pardon me, I could not permit her to play in public,
before all the menie of the castle."

"Madame is a discreet and prudent mother," said the Queen. "The
mistake was in repeating the representation at all, not in abstaining
from appearing in it. I should be very sorry that this young lady
should have been concerned in a spectacle a la comtesse."

There was something in the intonation of "this young lady" that won
Cis's heart on the spot, something in the concluding words that hurt
Susan's faithful loyalty towards her kinswoman, in spite of the
compliment to herself. However Mary did not pursue the subject,
perceiving with ready tact that it was distasteful, and proceeded to
ask Dame Susan's opinion of her work, which was intended as a gift to
her good aunt, the Abbess of Soissons. How strangely the name fell
upon Susan's ear. It was a pale blue satin coverlet, worked in large
separate squares, innumerable shields and heraldic devices of Lorraine,
Bourbon, France, Scotland, etc., round the border, and beautiful
meandering patterns of branches, with natural flowers and leaves
growing from them covering the whole with a fascinating regular
irregularity. Cis could not repress an exclamation of delight, which
brought the most charming glance of the winning eyes upon her. There
was stitchery here that she did not understand, but when she looked at
some of the flowers, she could not help uttering the sentiment that the
eyes of the daisies were not as mother could make them.

So, as a great favour, Queen Mary entreated to be shown Mrs. Talbot's
mode of dealing with the eyes of the daisies. No, her good Seaton
would not learn so well as she should; Madame must come and sit by her
and show her. Meantime here was her poor little Bijou whimpering to be
taken on her lap. Would not he find a comforter in sweet Mistress--ah,
what was her name?

"We named her Cicely, so please your Grace," said Susan, unable to help
blushing.

"Cecile, a fair name. Ah! so the poor Antoine called her. I see my
Bijou has found a friend in you, Mistress Cecile"--as the girl's idle
hands were only too happy to caress the pretty little shivering Italian
greyhound rather than to be busy with a needle. "Do you ever hear of
that young Babington, your playfellow?" she added.

"No, madam," said Cis, looking up, "he hath never been here!"

"I thought not," said Queen Mary, sighing. "Take heed to manifest no
pity for me, maiden, if you