“Silence, dear friends,” said she.  “Would that I had always had counsellors who would deal with me with such honour and disinterestedness.  Then should I not be here.”

However, she then turned her attention to the accounts, where Sir Andrew Melville was ready to question and debate every item set down by Shrewsbury’s steward; while his mistress showed herself liberal and open-handed.  Indeed she had considerable command of money from her French dowry, the proceeds of which were, in spite of the troubles of the League, regularly paid to her, and no doubt served her well in maintaining the correspondence which, throughout her captivity, eluded the vigilance of her keepers.  On taking leave of her, which Richard Talbot did before joining his host at the mid-day meal, she reiterated her thanks for his care of her daughter, and her charges to let no persuasion induce him to consent to Babington’s overtures, adding that she hoped soon to obtain permission to have the maiden amongst her authorised attendants.  She gave him a billet, loosely tied with black floss silk and unsealed, so that if needful, Sadler and Shrewsbury might both inspect the tender, playful, messages she wrote to her “mignonne,” and which she took care should not outrun those which she had often addressed to Bessie Pierrepoint.

Cicely was a little disappointed when she first opened the letter, but ere long she bethought herself of the directions she had received to hold such notes to the fire, and accordingly she watched, waiting even till the next day before she could have free and solitary access to either of the two fires in the house, those in the hall and in the kitchen.

At last, while the master was out farming, Ned at school, and the mistress and all her maids engaged in the unsavoury occupation of making candles, by repeated dipping of rushes into a caldron of melted fat, after the winter’s salting, she escaped under pretext of attending to the hall fire, and kneeling beside the glowing embers, she held the paper over it, and soon saw pale yellow characters appear and deepen into a sort of brown or green, in which she read, “My little jewel must share the ring with none less precious.  Yet be not amazed if commendations as from me be brought thee.  Jewels are sometimes useful to dazzle the eyes of those who shall never possess them.  Therefore seem not cold nor over coy, so as to take away all hope.  It may be much for my service.  Thou art discreet, and thy good guardians will hinder all from going too far.  It might be well that he should deem thee and me inclined to what they oppose.  Be secret.  Keep thine own counsel, and let them not even guess what thou hast here read.  So fare thee well, with my longing, yearning blessing.”

Cicely hastily hid the letter in the large housewifely pocket attached to her girdle, feeling excited and important at having a real secret unguessed by any one, and yet experiencing some of the reluctance natural to the pupil of Susan Talbot at the notion of acting a part towards Babington.  She really liked him, and her heart warmed to him as a true friend of her much-injured mother, so that it seemed the more cruel to delude him with false hopes.  Yet here was she asked to do a real service to her mother!