place some restraint upon herself, and treat her sister at least with outward courtesy; Philip was expected at Christmas, should nothing untoward happen in the interval; and the ambassador prevailed on her, at last, to pretend that her suspicions were at an end. His own desire, he said, was as great as Mary's that Elizabeth should be detected in some treasonable correspondence; but harshness only placed her on her guard; she would be less careful, if she believed that she was no longer distrusted. The princess, alarmed perhaps at finding herself the unconsenting object of dangerous schemes, had asked permission to retire to her country house. It was agreed that she should go; persons in her household were bribed to watch her; and the Queen, yielding to Renard's entreaties, received her, when she came to take leave, with an appearance of affection so well counterfeited, that it called out the ambassador's applause.[1] She made her a present of pearls, with a headdress of sable; and the princess, on her side, implored the Queen to give no more credit to slanders against her. They embraced; Elizabeth left the Court; and, as she went out of London, five hundred gentlemen formed about her as a voluntary escort.[2] There were not wanting fools, says Renard, who would persuade the Queen that her sister's last words were honestly spoken; but she remembers too acutely the injuries which her
