"O ma mie, my lassie, ma fille, mine ain wee thing, how sweet to have
one bairn who is mine, mine ain, whom they have not robbed me of, for
thy brother, ah, thy brother, he hath forsaken me! He is made of the
false Darnley stuff, and compacted by Knox and Buchanan and the rest,
and he will not stand a blast of Queen Elizabeth's wrath for the poor
mother that bore him. Ay, he hath betrayed me, and deluded me, my
child; he hath sold me once more to the English loons! I am set
faster in prison than ever, the iron entereth into my soul. Thou art
but daughter to a captive queen, who looks to thee to be her one
bairn, one comfort and solace."

Cicely responded by caresses, and indeed felt herself more than ever
before the actual daughter, as she heard with indignation of James's
desertion of his mother's cause; but Mary, whatever she said herself,
would not brook to hear her speak severely of him. "The poor
laddie," she said, "he was no better than a prisoner among those dour
Scots lords," and she described in graphic terms some of her own
experiences of royalty in Scotland.

The other ladies all welcomed the newcomer as the best medicine both
to the spirit and body of their Queen. She was regularly enrolled
among the Queen's maidens, and shared their meals. Mary dined and
supped alone, sixteen dishes being served to her, both on "fish and
flesh days," and the reversion of these as well as a provision of
their own came to the higher table of her attendants, where Cicely
ranked with the two Maries, Jean Kennedy, and Sir Andrew Melville.
There was a second table, at which ate the two secretaries, Mrs.
Curll, and Elizabeth Curll, Gilbert's sister, a most faithful
attendant on the Queen. As before, she shared the Queen's chamber,