However, Anne was not at all surprised, when on the very evening of the Prince’s departure, old Mrs. Humphreys, a venerable-looking dame in handsome but Puritanically-fashioned garments, came in a hackney coach to request in her son’s name that her granddaughter might return with her, as her occupation was at an end.
Jane was transported with joy.
“Ay, ay,” said the grandmother, “look at you now, and think how crazy you were to go to the palace, though ’twas always against my judgment.”
“Ah, I little knew how mortal dull it would be!” said Jane.
“Ye’ve found it no better than the husks that the swine did eat, eh? So much the better and safer for your soul, child.”
Nobody wanted to retain Jane, and while she was hastily putting her things together, the grandmother turned to Anne: “And you, Mistress Woodford, from what I hear, you have been very good in keeping my silly child stanch to her religion and true to her duty. If ever on a pinch you needed a friend in London, my son and I would be proud to serve you—Master Joshua Humphreys, at the Golden Lamb, Gracechurch Street, mind you. No one knows what may hap in these strange and troublesome times, and you might be glad of a house to go to till you can send to your own friends—that is, if we are not all murdered by the Papists first.”
Though Anne did not expect such a catastrophe as this, she was really grateful for the offer, and thought it possible that she might avail herself of it, as she had not been able to communicate with any of her mother’s old friends, and Bishop Ken was not to her knowledge still in London.
She watched anxiously for the opportunity of asking Lady Strickland whether she might apply for her dismissal, and write to her uncle to fetch her home.
“Child,” said the lady, “I think you love the Queen.”
“Indeed I do, madam.”