About the middle of March came Annis Holland to pay her farewell visit to Isoult. She was a quiet, gentle-looking woman, rather short, and inclining to embonpoint, her hair black, and her eyes dark grey. She was to start for Spain on the 22nd of the same month, under the escort of Don Jeronymo, a Spanish gentleman in the household of the Duchess of Suffolk. The city to which she was bound was Tordesillas, and there (where the Queen resided) she was to await the orders of the Marquis of Denia, who was her Majesty’s Comptroller. Annis promised to write to her friend twice every year, while she remained abroad.
A few days after Annis’s departure, there was a dinner-party at the Lamb. The guests were Mr and Mrs Underhill, Mr and Mrs Rose, Thekla, and Mr Holland.
Mr Underhill brought bad news. The King had fallen ill of small-pox, and Parliament was likely to be prorogued, since he could no longer be present at the debates. The idea that the royal presence might overawe the members, and the consequent absence of the Sovereign from the House excepting for state ceremonies, are no older than the Restoration. The Plantagenet and Tudor Kings sat in their Parliaments as a matter of course.
After dinner, Mr Holland, who was fond of children, set Kate on his knee, and won her heart by permitting her to chatter as freely as she pleased. Robin and Thekla crept into a quiet corner by themselves; Mrs Underhill made Esther her especial companion; and the rest sat round the fire.
“What think you,” said Dr Thorpe to Mr Underhill, “should now hap, if (which God of His mercy defend!) this sickness of the King were to prove mortal?”
“How mean you?” Mr Underhill answered, “that the King should or should not provide his successor?”
“Why,” replied Dr Thorpe, “will he shut out his sisters?”
“There are that would right gladly have him to do so.”
“Whom aim you at there?”
“My Lord of Northumberland and other,” said he.