"What your Majesty will scarce grant," said Susan.
"Ha! thou art of the same house thyself. I had forgotten it; thou art so unlike to them. I wager that it is not to send this same letter at all."
"Your Highness hath guessed my mind. Nay, madam, though assuredly I do desire it because the Countess bath been ever my good lady, and bred me up ever since I was an orphan, it is not solely for her sake that I would fain pray you, but fully as much for your Majesty's own."
"Madame Talbot sees the matter as I do," said Sir Andrew Melville. "The English Queen is as like to be irate with the reporter of the scandal as with the author of it, even as the wolf bites the barb that pierces him when he cannot reach the archer."
"She is welcome to read the letter," said Mary, smiling; "thy semblance falleth short, my good friend."
"Nay, madam, that was not the whole of my purport," said Susan, standing with folded hands, looking from one to another. "Pardon me. My thought was that to take part in all this repeating of thoughtless, idle words, spoken foolishly indeed, but scarce so much in malice as to amuse your Grace with Court news, and treasured up so long, your Majesty descends from being the patient and suffering princess, meek, generous, and uncomplaining, to be—to be—"
"No better than one of them, wouldst thou add?" asked Mary, somewhat sharply, as Susan paused.
"Your Highness has said it," answered Susan; then, as there was a moment's pause, she looked up, and with clasped hands added, "Oh, madam! would it not be more worthy, more noble, more queenly, more Christian, to refrain from stinging with this repetition of these vain and foolish slanders?"
"Most Christian treatment have I met with," returned Mary; but after a pause she turned to her almoner. Master Belton, saying, "What say you, sir?"
"I say that Mrs. Talbot speaks more Christian words than are often heard in these parts," returned he. "The thankworthiness of suffering is lost by those who return the revilings upon those who utter them."