"Did not William III. give Greenwich Hospital to disabled seamen?" asked Willie.
"Yes, my dear; it was formerly a royal palace. Queen Elizabeth was nursed there when a child. You young ladies can, perhaps, tell me what Queen Mary introduced into England."
"You must give us a clue, mama."
"It is something which tended to make women more industrious; but the revival of it in the present day, has, I fear, caused a great deal of time to be employed on it which might have been devoted to more useful objects."
"We know what you mean, mama; tent-stitch and cross-stitch; your last remark has told us."
Louisa then described a bed-chamber: "a high four-post bedstead, the canopy of which reaches to the ceiling: a coronet, surmounted by a plume of feathers, is raised over the crimson curtains at the foot: it is a bright and beautiful summer morning, but a pale, restless invalid seems incapable of enjoying it. She is wrapt in a loose robe, and stands with her eyes fixed on a large clock, which now-a-days we should, from its antique, cumbersome form, condemn to a staircase, or a kitchen; there is almost a vacant expression in her eyes, and an attendant lady looks enquiringly in her face. Who is my poor heroine?"
"Catherine of Aragon?" asked Emily.
"No, she was but a queen consort; my heroine was a queen regnant."
"Was it bloody Mary, who had the poor little children burnt?" said Alfred.
"No, my boy; but a similar circumstance, namely, that of leaving no descendants, preyed equally on the minds of these two royal personages, and hastened their deaths."