your high Majesty, but yet she moveth with circumspection."

"Circumspection--circumspection, that is no gift in dancing, which should
be wilful yet airily composed, thoughtless yet inducing. Circumspection!
--in nothing else hath Mary shown it where she should. 'Tis like this
Queen perversely to make a psalm of dancing, and then pirouette with
sacred duty. But you have spoken the truth, and I am well content. So
get you to your rest."

She tapped Ange'le's cheek. "You shall remain here to-night. 'Tis too
late for you to be sent abroad." She was about to dismiss her, when
there was a sudden stir. Cecil had entered and was making his way to the
Queen, followed by two strangers. Elizabeth waited their approach.

"Your gracious Majesty," said Cecil, in a voice none heard save
Elizabeth, for all had fallen back at a wave of her hand, "the Queen of
Scots is the mother of a fair son."

Elizabeth's face flushed, then became pale, and she struck her knee with
her clinched hand. "Who bringeth the news?" she inquired in a sharp
voice.

"Sir Andrew Melvill here."

"Who is with him yonder?"

"One who hath been attached to the Queen of Scots."

"He hath the ill look of such an one," she answered, and then said below
her breath bitterly: "She hath a son--and I am but a barren stock."