“And you—you also love Anne Boleyn?” replied the queen.
“Oh! yes, mamma, very much, very much indeed!” innocently answered the child. “I am very sorry she is no longer to be here, she is so amiable, and when she plays with me she always amuses me so much!”
“Well, my dear child,” replied the queen, “I will tell you now why people weep when they are grown up, as you say: it is because they very often love persons who no longer return their affection.”
“And do you believe she no longer loves me?” replied the impulsive little Mary with a thoughtful expression. “And yet, mamma, I kissed her this morning and embraced her with all my heart. However, I now remember that she scarcely spoke a word to me; but I had not thought of it before. She seemed to be very much embarrassed. But why should she no longer love me when I still love her so dearly?”
As Mary uttered these words, a woman entered the room and, whispering a moment in the ear of the queen, placed a note in her hand.
Catherine arose and approached the light; after reading the note, she called the young princess and requested her to retire to her chamber, as she had something to write immediately that was very important.
Mary ran gaily to her mother, and, after kissing and embracing her fondly and tenderly again and again, she at last bade her good-night, and with a smiling face bounded from the room in the same light and buoyant manner that she had entered it.
“Leonora,” said the queen, “my dear child, you have left for my sake our beautiful Spain, and have ever served me with faithful devotion. Listen, now, to the request I shall make—go bring me immediately the dress and outer apparel belonging to one of the servant women.”
“Why so, my lady?”
“Ask no questions—I have use for them; you will accompany me; I must go to London this night.”