So she determined to go to see Grouche secretly, and was confident she
could arrange the visit in such a way that it would never be
discovered.

One morning I met Jane, who told me, with troubled face, that she and
Mary were going to London to make some purchases, would lodge at
Bridewell House, and go over to Billingsgate that evening to consult
Grouche. Mary had taken the whim into her wilful head, and Jane could
not dissuade her.

The court was all at Greenwich, and nobody at Bridewell, so Mary
thought they could disguise themselves as orange girls and easily make
the trip without any one being the wiser.

It was then, as now, no safe matter for even a man to go unattended
through the best parts of London after dark, to say nothing of
Billingsgate, that nest of water-rats and cut-throats. But Mary did
not realize the full danger of the trip, and would, as usual, allow
nobody to tell her.

She had threatened Jane with all sorts of vengeance if she divulged
her secret, and Jane was miserable enough between her fears on either
hand; for Mary, though the younger, held her in complete subjection.
Despite her fear of Mary, Jane asked me to go to London and follow
them at a distance, unknown to the princess. I was to be on duty that
night at a dance given in honor of the French envoys who had just
arrived, bringing with them commission of special ambassador to de
Longueville to negotiate the treaty of marriage, and it was impossible
for me to go. Mary was going partly to avoid this ball, and her wilful