group of people, and was talking to Wolsey--who was always very
friendly to him--and to Master Cavendish, a quaint, quiet, easy little
man, full of learning and kindness, and a warm friend to the Princess
Mary.

It was time to open the ball, and, from my place in the musicians'
gallery, I could see Mary moving about among the guests, evidently
looking for a partner, while the men resorted to some very transparent
and amusing expedients to attract her attention. The princess,
however, took none of the bidders, and soon, I noticed, she espied
Brandon standing in the corner with his back toward her.

Something told me she was going to ask him to open the dance, and I
regretted it, because I knew it would set every nobleman in the house
against him, they being very jealous of the "low-born favorites," as
they called the untitled friends of royalty. Sure enough, I was right.
Mary at once began to make her way over to the corner, and I heard her
say: "Master Brandon, will you dance with me?"

It was done prettily. The whole girl changed as soon as she found
herself in front of him. In place of the old-time confidence, strongly
tinged with arrogance, she was almost shy, and blushed and stammered
with quick coming breath, like a burgher maid before her new-found
gallant. At once the courtiers made way for her, and out she walked,
leading Brandon by the hand. Upon her lips and in her eyes was a rare
triumphant smile, as if to say:

"Look at this handsome new trophy of my bow and spear."

I was surprised and alarmed when Mary chose Brandon, but when I turned