Philip, who exhibited little uneasiness at the Queen’s indisposition, was still seated at table with Pole, when the Cardinal’s physician, Doctor Forest, came in, and informed his Eminence that her Majesty desired instant speech with him.
“The Queen is not seriously ill, I trust, Sir?” said Philip, alarmed by the physician’s grave looks.
“She appears to have received a severe shock, Sire,” replied Forest, “but I trust no ill consequences may ensue. Her Majesty wishes to see your Eminence—alone,” he added to the Cardinal.
“Go to her at once,” said Philip. “If my hopes of succession should be blighted, it will be grievous indeed. But you have no such fears, Sir?” he added quickly to the physician.
“I shall have no fear if her Majesty’s mind can be tranquilised,” replied Forest—“and that, I trust, his Eminence will be able to accomplish.”
“My reliance, then, is upon you,” said Philip to the Cardinal. “A few words from your lips will not fail to calm her.”
Thereupon Pole hastened to the apartment where the Queen had been conveyed. On entering it, he found her reclining on a couch, and attended by her ladies, who, on his appearance, immediately withdrew.
“I am much concerned to see your Majesty thus,” observed Pole. “It will be a real affliction if your visit to me should be productive of ill consequences to yourself.”
“I am sorry I came,” replied Mary. “The words of that malignant heretic have sunk deep into my breast. He said that I shall never be a mother.”