Sir Henry and Lady Ashley came on the 12th to bid their friends farewell, for they were about to leave town early on the morning after the Coronation, and they expected to have little time at liberty. They advised the Averys not to take their stand in Bow Churchyard, as they intended to do, but to beg the loan of some friend’s window. Mr Underhill had too many customers to help them; but Annis, whose lodging was in Saint Paul’s Churchyard, was very glad to be of service.
In the afternoon they went down early to the waterside, to see the Queen come to the Tower from Westminster Palace. Her Majesty came about two o’clock, royally arrayed, in her state barge, and landed at the privy stairs. Little Frances was in the greatest glee, because she said she was most unfeignedly certain that the Queen looked on her. “And she walketh about the house,” said John, “a fair foot the higher in her own account, that she hath been seen of the Queen’s Majesty.”
The next day came Mr Underhill, bringing news that the Queen had dubbed many Knights of the Bath, and had also created Edward Seymour, eldest son of the late Duke of Somerset, Earl of Hertford.
“But which Edward?” said John, in his quiet way.
“Which?” replied Mr Underhill. “Why, my Lord had but one son of his own name.”
“No had?” said John. “I thought he had two.”
“What mean you, Jack Avery?” said Mr Underhill.
“I know well what he meaneth,” answered Mr Rose. “It was the worst blot on my Lord of Somerset’s life. I trust he did repent thereof ere God called him.”
“I was thinking,” said John, in a low voice, “of one Katherine Folliott, an humble violet plucked from her mossy bed, and after, flung withering away to reach a peony.”
“A black-thorn rather, if you would picture her complexion,” suggested Dr Thorpe.