Mary only smiled and kissed her brow.  The time went by in the preparations, in all of which the Queen took an active part.  Her money and jewels had been restored to her by Elizabeth’s orders during her daughter’s absence, and she had put twenty gold pieces in the silken and pearl purse which she always used.  “More I may not give thee,” she said.  “I know not whether I shall be able to give my poor faithful servants enough to carry them to their homes.  This thou must have to provide thee.  And for my jewels, they should be all thine by right, but the more valuable ones, which bear tokens, might only bring thee under suspicion, poor child.”

She wished Cicely to choose among them, but the poor girl had no heart for choice, and the Queen herself put in her hand a small case containing a few which were unobtrusive, yet well known to her, and among them a ring with the Hepburn arms, given by Bothwell.  She also showed her a gold chain which she meant to give to Humfrey.  In this manner time passed, till a message came in that Master Richard Talbot was ready.

“Who brought it?” asked the Queen, and when she heard that it was Humfrey himself who was at the door, she bade him be called in.

“Children,” she said, “we were interrupted last night.  Let me see you give your betrothal kiss, and bless you.”

“One word, my mother,” said Cicely.  “Humfrey will not bear me ill-will if I say that while there can still be any hope that Queen Elizabeth will accept me for her prisoner in your stead, I neither can nor ought to wed him.”

“Thou mayst safely accept the condition, my son,” said Mary.

“Then if these messengers should come to conduct my mother abroad, and to take me as her hostage, Humfrey will know where to find me.”

“Yea, thou art a good child to the last, my little one,” said Mary.

“You promise, Humfrey?” said Cicely.

“I do,” he said, knowing as well as the Queen how little chance there was that he would be called on to fulfil it, but feeling that the agony of the parting was thus in some degree softened to Cicely.

Mary gave the betrothal ring to Humfrey, and she laid her hands on their clasped ones.  “My daughter and my son,” she said, “I leave you my blessing.  If filial love and unshaken truth can bring down blessings from above, they will be yours.  Think of your mother in times to come as one who hath erred, but suffered and repented.  If your Church permits you, pray often for her.  Remember, when you hear her blamed, that in the glare of courts, she had none to breed her up in godly fear and simple truth like your good mother at Bridgefield, but that she learnt to think what you view in the light of deadly sin as the mere lawful instruments of government, above all for the weaker.  Condemn her not utterly, but pray, pray with all your hearts that her God and Saviour will accept her penitence, and unite her sufferings with those of her Lord, since He has done her the grace of letting her die in part for His Church.  Now,” she added, kissing each brow, and then holding her daughter in her embrace, “take her away, Humfrey, and let me turn my soul from all earthly loves and cares!”