what the Queen had borne for full eighteen
years.

"Ah!" said poor Cicely, "but she had always been a queen, and was used
to being mewed up close!"

And if this was the case at Wingfield, how much more was it so at
Tutbury, whither Mary was removed in January. The space was far
smaller, and the rooms were cold and damp; there was much less outlet,
the atmosphere was unwholesome, and the furniture insufficient. Mary
was in bed with rheumatism almost from the time of her arrival, but she
seemed thus to become the more vigilant over her daughter, and
distressed by her shortcomings. If the Queen did not take exercise,
the suite were not supposed to require any, and indeed it was never
desired by her elder ladies, but to the country maiden it was absolute
punishment to be thus shut up day after day. Neither Sir Ralf Sadler
nor his colleague, Mr. Somer, had brought a wife to share the charge,
so that there was none of the neutral ground afforded by intercourse
with the ladies of the Talbot family, and at first the only variety
Cicely ever had was the attendance at chapel on the other side of the
court.

It was remarkable that Mary discouraged all proselytising towards the
Protestants of her train, and even forbore to make any open attempt on
her daughter's faith. "Cela viendra," she said to Marie de Courcelles.
"The sermons of M. le Pasteur will do more to convert her to our side
than a hundred controversial arguments of our excellent Abbe; and when
the good time comes, one High Mass will be enough to win her over."

"Alas! when shall we ever again assist at the Holy Sacrifice in all its
glory!" sighed the lady.

"Ah, my good Courcelles! of what have you not deprived yourself for me!
Sacrifice, ah! truly you share it! But for the child, it would give
needless offence and difficulty were she to embrace our holy faith at
present. She is simple and impetuous, and has not yet sufficiently
outgrown the rude straightforward breeding of the good housewife, Madam
Susan, not to rush into open confession of her faith, and then! oh the
fracas! The wicked wolves would have stolen a precious lamb from M. le
Pasteur's fold! Master Richard would be sent for! Our restraint would
be the closer! Moreover, even when the moment of freedom strikes, who
knows that to find her of their own religion may not win us favour with
the English?"

So, from whatever motive, Cis remained unmolested in her religion, save
by the weariness of t