It was at the hour of vespers that the priest introduced Lady Brampton into the queen's cabinet. Elizabeth was assured that she had secrets of importance to communicate, and she designed by affability to win her to a full disclosure of them. Yet her heart and manner grew cold as she entered the closet where the lady and her guide already were, and bending her head slightly, she said, "The Lady Brampton desired an audience with me—I grant it."
With all her vivacity and consciousness of the importance of her disclosures, the lady felt herself awed and chilled; and the memory of Edward came across her, who had before shielded her from such unkindness, and filled her eyes with tears. A long pause ensued; the queen looked as in expectation, and Richard Simon, who had retired to an embrasure of a window, was about to come forward, when Lady Brampton, conquering her emotion, said, "Your grace is the happy mother of the queen of England, and the hope of an heir, which you now entertain, may make my intelligence distasteful."
"Say on," replied Elizabeth, haughtily; "I listen to your words."
The lady felt much inclined not to say another word, but assuming almost equal coldness of manner, she continued, "Would your grace prefer that your fair daughter should still bear the sceptre, or that Richard the Fourth should wrest it from the husband's grasp?"
Now indeed the queen started, and cried impetuously, "I charge you, trifle with me no longer! Explain your words; who would supplant my child?"
"Her brother," Lady Brampton replied; and seeing the queen lost in a mixture of amazement and terror, she added, "The Duke of York still lives: he is now, I trust, at the head of forces sufficient to enforce his rights. In a few days England will acknowledge him as sovereign."
In reply to these words, spoken with rapidity, as if they were pregnant with supreme delight to their auditress, the queen with an angry look, said, "I shall league with no plotters to establish an impostor."
"Beware," said Lady Brampton, indignantly; "let your majesty bethink yourself before you consign your son to misery and an early grave. Will his mother be his chief enemy?"
"Who vouches for him?"
"Himself! He is the very Edward who once was yours: his young features are but the miniature mirror of his royal father; his princely grace, his wit, his courage, are all derived from him."
