ll
Cavendish was content to pick it up every time and return it to her,
appearing amply rewarded by her laugh of delight.

The two mothers could not but laugh, and Mrs. Babington said the brave
lads were learning their knightly courtesy early, while Mary Talbot
began observing on the want of likeness between Cis and either the
Talbot or Hardwicke race. The little girl was much darker in colouring
than any of the boys, and had a pair of black, dark, heavy brows, that
prevented her from being a pretty child. Her adopted mother shrank
from such observations, and was rejoiced that a winding of horns, and a
shout from the boys, announced that the expected arrival was about to
take place. The ladies darted to the window, and beholding the avenue
full of horsemen and horsewomen, their accoutrements and those of their
escort gleaming in the sun, each mother gathered her own chicks to
herself, smoothed the plumage somewhat ruffled by sport, and advanced
to the head of the stone steps, William Cavendish, the eldest of the
boys, being sent down to take his stepfather's rein and hold his
stirrup, page fashion.

Clattering and jingling the troop arrived. The Earl, a stout, square
man, with a long narrow face, lengthened out farther by a
light-coloured, silky beard, which fell below his ruff, descended from
his steed, gave his hat to Richard Talbot, and handed from her horse a
hooded and veiled lady of slender proportions, who leant on his arm as
she ascended the steps.

The ladies knelt, whether in respect to the heads of the family, or to
the royal guest, may be doubtful.

The Queen came up the stairs with rheumatic steps, declaring, however,
as she did so, that she felt the better for her ride, and was less
fatigued than when she set forth. She had the soft, low, sweet
Scottish voice, and a thorough Scottish accent and language, tempered,
however, by French tones, and as, coming into the warmer air of the
hall, she withdrew her veil, her countenance was seen. Mary Stuart was
only thirty-one at this time, and her face was still youthful, though
worn and wearied, and bearing tokens of illness. The features were far
from being regularly beautiful; there was a decided cast in one of the
eyes, and in spite of all that Mary Talbot's detracting tongue had
said, Susan's first impression was disappointment. But, as the Queen
greeted the lady whom she already knew, and the Earl presented his
daughter, Lady Grace, his stepdaughter