At last, however, all unexpectedly, while the Queen was in conference with Hatton, there came a message by the steward of the household, that Master Richard Talbot had arrived, and that permission had been granted by Sir Amias for him to speak with Mistress Cicely.  She sprang up joyously, but Mrs. Kennedy demurred.

“Set him up!” quoth she.  “My certie, things are come to a pretty pass that any one’s permission save her Majesty’s should be speired for one of her women, and I wonder that you, my mistress, should be the last to think of her honour!”

“O Mrs. Kennedy, dear Mrs. Jean,” entreated Cicely, “hinder me not.  If I wait till I can ask her, I may lose my sole hope of speaking with him.  I know she would not be displeased, and it imports, indeed it imports.”

“Come, Mrs. Kennett,” said the steward, who by no means shared his master’s sourness, “if it were a young gallant that craved to see thy fair mistress, I could see why you should doubt, but being her father and brother, there can surely be no objection.”

“The young lady knows what I mean,” said the old gentlewoman with great dignity, “but if she will answer it to the Queen—­”

“I will, I will,” cried Cicely, whose colour had risen with eagerness, and she was immediately marshalled by the steward beyond the door that closed in the royal captive’s suite of apartments to a gallery.  At the door of communication three yeomen were always placed under an officer.  Humfrey was one of those who took turns to command this guard, but he was not now on duty.  He was, however, standing beside his father awaiting Cicely’s coming.

Eagerly she moved up to Master Richard, bent her knee for his blessing, and raised her face for his paternal kiss with the same fond gladness as if she had been his daughter in truth.  He took one hand, and Humfrey the other, and they followed the steward, who had promised to procure them a private interview, so difficult a matter, in the fulness of the castle, that he had no place to offer them save the deep embrasure of a great oriel window at the end of the gallery.  They would be seen there, but there was no fear of their being heard without their own consent, and till the chapel bell rang for evening prayers and sermon there would be no interruption.  And as Cicely found herself seated between Master Richard and the window, with Humfrey opposite, she was sensible of a repose and bien etre she had not felt since she quitted Bridgefield.  She had already heard on the way that all was well there, and that my Lord was not come, though named in the commission as being Earl Marshal of England, sending his kinsman of Bridgefield in his stead with letters of excuse.

“In sooth he cannot bear to come and sit in judgment on one he hath known so long and closely,” said Richard; “but he hath bidden me to come hither and remain so as to bring him a full report of all.”

“How doth my Lady Countess take that?” asked Humfrey.