But I never felt like that again in her home after I had once seen Lady Jane Grey, as she was still often called, although her married name was Dudley.
I remember so well the first time I saw her. She was sitting in her favourite corner of the great drawing-room, with a book in her hand, waiting for her husband, Lord Dudley, to go out with her, and was richly dressed in black velvet and white satin. Her skirt, which was very full, was bordered down the sides with ermine, as was also her bodice, which was pointed at the waist and square in the neck, with a chemisette of satin quilted with pearls. She wore a close honeycomb ruff at the throat and a velvet coif, pointed and bordered with pearls, and long hanging velvet sleeves over tighter ones of white satin, with ruffles of cloth of gold, whilst the richest jewels added lustre to her handsome clothing. But she was not thinking of her dress, for her sweet and lovely countenance was poring over her book so closely that she did not hear me approach or heed the murmur of Mistress Ellen's voice saying to me aside, 'She is reading Plato. 'Tis a work for which she has an immense liking.'
I dared not speak, but looked wistfully at the beautiful girl whose thoughts were so riveted on the book she read that she had none to spare for a poor young stranger, and then I sighed deeply, and that aroused her, who had always a tender ear for the suffering of others.
She raised her eyes slowly from the open page, and, as they rested on my face, gave a little cry of glad surprise.
'My new gentlewoman!' she exclaimed. 'And one so young and pretty! Oh, this is a pleasure!' and she held out both her hands and kissed me, saying, 'We shall be great friends, you and I.'
I thought so too, for my heart went out to her then as it never did before or since to one of my own sex, and I felt that she was worthy of my love, and that all I could do for her would be too little to express the loving service I should like to offer.
Mistress Ellen went away and left us together—in that showing her usual discretion—and my dear lady asked me many questions relating to my home and kindred, the long journey I had come upon and the dangers of the way. I answered readily, experiencing a rare pleasure in finding her responsive nature understand, appreciate and sympathize with everything I said.
'Oh,' said she, when at length I had told her all that I could think of just then—except indeed what I had heard at Woodleigh Castle relating to her future, which I dared not mention—not omitting the valiant deeds that Sir Hubert Blair had done for my assistance, 'how I have enjoyed hearing you talk! What you have told me is so different from anything that has ever happened to me. It is all so interesting and so like a poem, only more real and life-like than any poetry, and it is true, that is the best of all.'
'Yes; it is true,' I said. 'And I could not talk like that to any one else. There is something in you, madam, which draws out my innermost thoughts.'
Lady Jane smiled, and told me that in that case I should have to be very careful always to have good thoughts, adding that I ought to read much in the Bible and in such books as the one she was perusing, and also that I ought to pray for the Holy Spirit to guide me unto all truth.