And through the open gateway dashed the cavalcade. The queen in front; at her right, the Princess Elizabeth; at her left, the master of horse, Thomas Seymour, Earl of Sudley.
When the train had disappeared, father and daughter stepped back from the window, and looked at each other with strange, dark, and disdainful looks.
“Well, Jane?” said Earl Douglas, at length. “She is still queen, and the king becomes daily more unwieldy and ailing. It is time to give him a seventh queen.”
“Soon, my father, soon.”
“Loves the queen Henry Howard at last?”
“Yes, he loves her!” said Jane, and her pale face was now colorless as a winding-sheet.
“I ask, whether she loves him?”
“She will love him!” murmured Jane, and then suddenly mastering herself, she continued: “but it is not enough to make the queen in love; doubtless it would be still more efficient if some one could instill a new love into the king. Did you see, father, with what ardent looks his majesty yesterday watched me and the Duchess of Richmond?”
“Did I see it? The whole court talked about it.”
“Well, now, my father, manage it so that the king may be heartily bored to-day, and then bring him to me. He will find the Duchess of Richmond with me.”