To postpone further the time of the Stanley visit, Dorothy suggested that the betrothal should take place in the presence of the queen.  Sir George acquiesced, and in his heart grew less eager for the Stanley match as Dorothy apparently became more tractable.  He was, however, engaged with the earl to an extent that forbade withdrawal, even had he been sure that he wished to withdraw.

At the time of which I speak the Earl of Leicester was the most exalted subject of the realm.  He was ardently devoted to the cause of the ladies, and, although he had fixed his hope on Elizabeth and longed for a seat beside her on the throne, his inflammable heart was constantly catching fire from other eyes.  He, of course, made desperate efforts to conceal these manifold conflagrations from the queen, but the inflammable tow of his heart was always bringing him into trouble with his fiery mistress.

The earl’s first glance toward Dorothy was full of admiration.  The second glance was full of conflagration.  The second day of the queen’s residence in Haddon I was astonished, grieved, and angered to see that our girl had turned her powerful batteries upon the earl with the evident purpose of conquest.  At times her long lashes would fall before him, and again her great luminous eyes would open wide, shedding a soft radiance which no man could withstand.  Once I saw her walking alone with him upon the terrace.  Her head was drooped shamelessly, and the earl was ardent though restless, being fearful of the queen.  I boiled with rage against Dorothy, but by a strong effort I did not boil over until I had better cause.  The better cause came later.

I failed to tell you of a brief conversation which occurred between Sir George and me after my cousin first saw the Earl of Leicester.  Sir George had gallantly led the queen to her apartments, and I had conducted Leicester and several of the gentlemen to their various rooms.  Sir George and I met at the staircase after we had quitted our guests.

He said:  “Malcolm, that fellow Thomas whom I knocked in the head looked no more like Leicester than I do.  Why did you tell me there was resemblance?”

“I do not know,” I answered.  “Perhaps your words suggested the thought of a resemblance.  Perhaps I had lost all memory of Leicester’s features.  I cannot answer your question.”

Then an expression of anger came to Sir George’s face, and he said:—­

“I believe Dorothy lied to me when she said that the fellow Thomas was of noble blood.”

The next day a servant reported that Thomas had been seen loitering near Bowling Green Gate, and Sir George ordered Dorothy not to leave the Hall without his permission.

Dorothy replied to her father’s command, “I shall obey you, father.”

To me there was a note of danger in her voice.  Such docile submissiveness was not natural to the girl.  Of course all appearance of harshness toward Dorothy was suppressed by Sir George during the queen’s visit to the Hall.  In truth, he had no reason to be harsh, for Dorothy was a meek, submissive, and obedient daughter.  Her meekness, however, as you may well surmise, was but the forerunner of dire rebellion.