act a pane or two from the lattices so ingeniously that the
master of the house never found it out. And as their two apartments
looked out different ways, they avoided the full sunshine, for they had
neither curtains nor blinds to their windows, by moving from one to the
other; but still the closeness was very oppressive, and in the heat of
the day, just after dinner, they could do nothing but lie on the table,
while the Queen told stories of her old life in France, till sometimes
they both went to sleep. Most of her dainty needlework was done in the
long light mornings, for she hardly slept at all in the hot nights.
Cis scarcely saw her in bed, for she prayed long after the maiden had
fallen asleep, and was up with the light and embroidering by the window.

She only now began to urge Cicely to believe as she did, and to join
her Church, taking blame to herself for never having attempted it more
seriously. She told of the oneness and the glory of Roman Catholicism
as she had seen it in France, held out its promises and professions,
and dwelt on the comfort of the intercession of the Blessed Virgin and
the Saints; assuring Cicely that there was nothing but sacrilege,
confusion, and cruelty on the other side.

Sometimes the maiden was much moved by the tender manner and persuasive
words, and she really had so much affection and admiration for her
mother as to be willing to do all that she wished, and to believe her
the ablest and most clear-sighted of human beings; but whenever Mary
was not actually talking to her, there was a curious swaying back of
the pendulum in her mind to the conviction that what Master Richard and
Mistress Susan believed must be the right thing, that led to
trustworthy goodness. She had an enthusiastic love for the Queen, but
her faith and trust were in them and in Humfrey, and she could see
religious matters from their point of view better than from that of her
mother.

So, though the Queen often felt herself carrying her daughter along,
she always found that there had been a slipping back to the old
standpoint every time she began again. She was considering with some
anxiety of the young maiden's future.

"Could I but send thee to my good sister, the Duchess of Lorraine, she
would see thee well and royally married," she said. "Then couldst thou
be known by thine own name, and rank as Princess of Scotland. If I can
only see my Courcelles again, she would take thee safely and prove
all--