During the forenoon, Tom had an enjoyable hour, by permission of his

Keepers, Hertford and St. John, with the Lady Elizabeth and the little Lady

Jane Grey; though the spirits of the princesses were rather subdued by the

Mighty stroke that had fallen upon the royal house; and at the end of the visit

his 'elder sister' — afterward the 'Bloody Mary' of history — chilled him with

A solemn interview which had but one merit in his eyes, its brevity. He had a

Few moments to himself, and then a slim lad of about twelve years of age was

Admitted to his presence, whose clothing, except his snowy ruff and the laces

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About his wrists, was of black — doublet, hose and all. He bore no badge of

Mourning but a knot of purple ribbon on his shoulder. He advanced

Hesitatingly, with head bowed and bare, and dropped upon one knee in front

Of Tom. Tom sat still and contemplated him soberly for a moment. Then he

said:

'Rise, lad. Who art thou? What wouldst have?'

The boy rose, and stood at graceful ease, but with an aspect of concern in his

face. He said:

'Of a surety thou must remember me, my lord. I am thy whipping-boy.

'My whipping -boy?'

'The same, your grace, I am Humphrey — Humphrey Marlow.'

Tom perceived that here was some one whom his keepers ought to have told

him about. The situation was delicate. What should he do? — pretend he