At this time Isabella was fourteen and Richard twenty; but even in that early spring time of their youth, they were old in sense and judgment.  It wanted but four days of the time appointed by Richard’s parents when he should bend his neck to the holy yoke of matrimony; and wise and fortunate did they deem themselves in choosing their prisoner to be their daughter, esteeming her virtues to be a better dower than the great wealth of the Scotch lady.  The preparations for the wedding were all made, the relations and friends of the family were invited, and nothing remained but to make known the intended match to the Queen, no marriage between persons of noble blood being lawful without her knowledge and consent; but making no doubt of obtaining the royal licence, they put off applying for it to the last.  Things being in this state, their joy was disturbed one evening by the appearance of one of the Queen’s servants with an order to Clotald from her Majesty, requiring his appearance before her next morning with his Spanish prisoner.  He replied that he would cheerfully obey her Majesty’s command.  The messenger retired, and left the family in great perturbation; “Alas,” said dame Catherine, “what if the Queen knows that I have brought up this girl as a Catholic, and thence infers that we are all of us Christians in this house!  For, if her Majesty asks her what she has learned during the eight years she has been with us, what answer can she give with all her discretion, poor timid girl, that will not condemn us?”

“Be under no fear on that account, dear lady,” said Isabella; “for I trust in the divine goodness and mercy of Heaven, that it will put such words into my mouth as will not only not condemn you, but redound to your advantage.”

Richard trembled as if he foreboded some calamity.  Clotald cast about for some encouragement to allay his grievous fears, and found none but in his great trust in God and in the prudence of Isabella, whom he earnestly entreated to try in every possible way to avoid convicting them of being Catholics; for, though their spirits were willing to encounter martyrdom, yet their flesh was weak and recoiled from the bitter trial.  Isabella assured them over and over again that they might set their minds at rest; what they apprehended should not befal them through her instrumentality; for though she knew not then what answer she should make to the questions that should be put to her on the morrow, she had a lively and confident hope that she would reply in such a manner as would be for their good.

Many were the comments and surmises they made that night on this unwelcome incident, and especially it occurred to them that, if the Queen knew they were Catholics, she would not have sent them so mild a message; it seemed reasonable to infer from it, that she only desired to see Isabella, the fame of whose incomparable beauty and accomplishments, known to every one in the capital, must have reached her Majesty’s