The mob shouted, “Bless the Princess! Hurrah for the Protestant faith! No warming-pans!” but in a good-tempered mood; and the poor little garrison breathed more freely; but Anne did not feel herself forgiven. She was in a manner sent to Coventry, and treated as if she were on the enemy’s side. Never had her proud nature suffered so much, and she shed bitter tears as she said to herself, “It is very unjust! What could I have done? How could I stop Her Highness from speaking? Could they expect me to run in and accuse her? Oh, that I were at home again! Mother, mother, you little know! Of what use am I now?”
It was the very question asked by Hester Bridgeman, whom she found packing her clothes in her room.
“Take care that this is sent after me,” she said, “when a messenger I shall send calls for it.”
“What, you have your dismissal?”
“No, I should no more get it than you have done. They cannot afford to let any one go, you see, or they will have to dress up the chambermaids to stand behind the Queen’s chair. I have settled it with my cousin, Harry Bridgeman, I shall mix with the throng that come to ask for news, and be off with him before the crowd breaks in, as they will some of these days, for the guards are but half-hearted. My Portia, why did not you take a good offer, and go with the Princess?”
“I thought it would be base.”
“And much you gained by it! You are only suspected and accused.”
“I can’t be a rat leaving a sinking ship.”
“That is courteous, but I forgive it, Portia, as I know you will repent of your folly. But you never did know which side to look for the butter.”
Perhaps seeing how ugly desertion and defection looked in others made constancy easier to Anne, much as she longed for the Close at Winchester, and she even thought with a hope of the Golden Lamb, Gracechurch, as an immediate haven sure to give her a welcome.