own little maid, and I have nine webs ready for her household linen.
Must we speak of her as a stranger?"

"It would scarce be just towards another family to let them deem her
of true Talbot blood, if she were to enter among them," said Richard;
"though I look on the little merry maid as if she were mine own
child. But there is no need yet to begin upon any such coil; and,
indeed, I would wager that my lady hath other views for young
Babington."

After all, parents often know very little of what passes in
children's minds, and Cis never hinted to her mother that the bond of
union between her and Antony was devotion to the captive Queen. Cis
had only had a glimpse or two of her, riding by when hunting or
hawking, or when, on festive occasions, all who were privileged to
enter the park were mustered together, among whom the Talbots ranked
high as kindred to both Earl and Countess; but those glimpses had
been enough to fill the young heart with romance, such as the matter-
of-fact elders never guessed at. Antony Babington, who was often
actually in the gracious presence, and received occasional smiles,
and even greetings, was immeasurably devoted to the Queen, and
maintained Cicely's admiration by his vivid descriptions of the
kindness, the grace, the charms of the royal captive, in contrast
with the innate vulgarity of their own Countess.

Willie Douglas (the real Roland Graeme of the escape from Lochleven)
had long ago been dismissed from Mary's train, with all the other
servants who were deemed superfluous; but Antony had heard the
details of the story from Jean Kennedy (Mrs. Kennett, as the English
were pleased to call her), and Willie was the hero of his emulative