“There is no love lost between the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law,” observed his son Gilbert in a consolatory tone.

“Little good would that do to me, if once it came to the ears of her Grace and the Lord Treasurer that both had been my guests!  And if I had to close the gates—­though in no other way could I save my life and honour—­your mother would never forget it.  It would be cast up to me for ever.  What think you, daughter Talbot?”

“Mayhap,” said Dame Mary, “my lady mother has had a hint to make ready for her Majesty herself, who hath so often spoken of seeing the Queen of Scots, and might think well to take her unawares.”

This was a formidable suggestion.  “Say you so,” cried the poor Earl, with an alarm his eye would never have betrayed had Parma himself been within a march of Sheffield, “then were we fairly spent.  I am an impoverished man, eaten out of house and lands as it is, and were the Queen herself to come, I might take at once to the beggar’s bowl.”

“But think of the honour, good my lord,” cried Mary.  “Think of all Hallamshire coming to do her homage.  Oh, how I should laugh to hear the Mayor stumbling over his address.”

“Laugh, ay,” growled the Earl; “and how will you laugh when there is not a deer left in the park, nor an ox in the stalls?”

“Nay, my Lord,” interposed Gilbert, “there is no fear of her Majesty’s coming.  That post from M. de la Mauvissiere reported her at Greenwich only five days back, and it would take her Majesty a far longer time to make her progress than yonder fellow, who will tell you himself that she had no thoughts of moving.”

“That might only be a feint to be the more sudden with us,” said his wife, actuated in part by the diversion of alarming her father-in-law, and in part really fired by the hope of such an effectual enlivenment of the dulness of Sheffield.

They were all in full family conclave drawn up in the hall for the reception, and Mistress Susan, who could not bear to see the Earl so perplexed and anxious, ventured to say that she was quite sure that my Lady Countess would have sent warning forward if indeed she were bringing home such a guest, and at that moment the blare of trumpets announced that the cavalcade was approaching.  The start which the Earl gave showed how much his nerves had become affected by his years of custody.  Up the long avenue they came, with all the state with which the Earl had conducted Queen Mary to the lodge before she was absolutely termed a prisoner.  Halberdiers led the procession, horse and foot seemed to form it.  The home party stood on the top of the steps watching with much anxiety.  There was a closed litter visible, beside which Lady Shrewsbury, in a mourning dress and hood, could be seen riding her favourite bay palfrey.  No doubt it contained the Lady Margaret, Countess of Lennox; and the unfortunate Earl, forgetting all his stately dignity, stood uneasily moving from leg to leg, and pulling his long beard, torn between the instincts of hospitality and of loyal obedience, between fear of his wife and fear of the Queen.