without quite knowing why, she felt both annoyed and depressed. She had nearly finished her task, and after rehearsal of her part in the coming masque, she was to have returned home. As it was, holly and misletoe, and masque and revel were at that moment as nought. She cast aside the shrubs in her hand, immediately sought out the old housekeeper, and giving her the keys of Mistress Walshingham's room, announced that she must at once return home; where, as we have seen, she found her fears confirmed, and her late charge departed.

It seemed extraordinary to herself how utterly desolate, how utterly deserted all looked; it appeared wonderful to her unsophisticated mind how in so short a time, and while she had been unconscious of its progress, her love for the society of this new acquaintance could have so grown upon her. The poet, for she was now well acquainted with all concerning his vocation, although she knew nothing of his antecedents, had certainly taken some little pleasure during his

enforced seclusion, and whilst companion'd by so sweet a creature, in trying his best to amuse and interest her; and with greedy ears she had listened to and drank in his "honeyed sentences." How she had loved to look up from her knitting, and gaze upon his expressive countenance, whilst he read to her some passages he had suddenly conceived, and immediately committed to paper, she now more fully called to mind,

"Twas pretty tho' a plague,
To draw his hawking eyes

In her heart's table;

A heart too capable

Of every line and trick of his good favour-"

The chances were she might never see the poet again, or if so, that one so gifted would hardly cast a thought, or give a passing glance towards her; yet still, Farewell was all she thought in her own mind that she wished to say; nay, she felt that she must say that word, and that she must see him once more to say it. And what she had resolved

upon, that she had taught herself to consider as already achieved: and so after a few brief tears she quitted the apartment, and once more joined the family circle.

A large and brilliant assembly were expected at the residence of Sir Francis Walshingham, on Christmas Eve. All the quaint games and old world customs of the period were to be enacted there; more especially so, as Her Majesty had signified her intention of being present.

Yet it only wanted one fortnight to Christmas day, consequently the preparations were being carried on fast and furious; for when the Queen did signify a visit, she seldom failed to perform her promise, and any sort of defalcation or neglect in the ceremonious observance at the time, would be sure to call forth rebuke and royal censure.

Where Her Majesty went, as a matter of course, whole battalions of court gallants were sure to be present, invited or uninvited, they "swarmed like summer flies," and although

most travel and traffic to and from London was performed in state barges and other boats and conveyances on the Thames, still it was customary amongst the better sort of cottagers resident upon the neighbouring common, to afford accommodation to some of the cavaliers of the Court,

CHAPTER X.

WHEN Shakspere left the cottage of Master Maynard, he rode straight on through the forest to Richmond Palace, where indeed he had been due, when he was stopped, and as we have before seen, all but murdered. His visit, which was to Lord Southampton, (then in attendance upon the Queen), had been accordingly delayed; and Lord Southampton felt deeply grieved as he observed the traces of severe suffering which the treatment he had received had left upon his outward favour.

"You will scarce be able to attend the revels at Walshingham House, I fear, good Master Shakspere," said the Earl. "They are close at hand. Let me see; Christmas VOL. I.

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