the High Admiral, and was residing with him and his wife, Queen Katherine.

Not by any means was the profligate Lord Thomas a fitting person to become the guardian of the child; but the reason for the transfer was a mad desire for wealth, influence, and aggrandizement, both on the part of the parents and the guardian of this docile, sweet-tempered Tudor princess.

It is a well-known matter of history that Lord Thomas deputed a gentleman named Harrington to wait upon the Marquis of Dorset, and make overtures to him respecting the matter. This individual stated that Lord Thomas Seymour, High Admiral of England, wished to become the guardian of the Lady Jane Grey; at the same time assuring the marquis that he would "see her placed in marriage much to his comfort."

"With whom will he match her?" asked Dorset. "Marry!" replied Harrington, "I doubt not but you will see he will marry her to the king; and fear you not but he will bring it to pass; and then you shall be able to help all the friends you have."

The latter sentence spoke volumes to the ambitious marquis; his principle, and that of his wife, gave way before the alluring bait, and the child was virtually sold by her own parents for the prospect of worldly aggrandizement.

As to the Lord Admiral's motives for obtaining

the guardianship, doubtless the union of his ward with the young King Edward VI. would have raised him to a regal position, in all but the mere name; he would have possessed unrivalled political influence, and perhaps a considerable accession of wealth. Moreover, it is thought that he had another unworthy motive for making this purchase. He was desirous to spite his brother, the Duke of Somerset, Lord Protector of England, by depriving Somerset's daughter, the Lady Jane Seymour, of the king's hand; and at the same time he wished to deprive his Grace's son, the Earl of Hertford, of the hand of Lady Jane Grey, Somerset having educated his daughter with the intention of marrying her to the king, and his son, with the intention of uniting him to the Lady Jane Grey.

It is believed that Katherine Parr, as well as her husband, desired to bring about a union between the Lady Jane, whom she really loved, and the king (though the will of her late husband, Henry VIII., enforced that, if possible, his royal son should wed Mary of Scotland), thinking that by means of this union the Reformation would be established. But doubtless, if the young king had lived, all these schemes would have proved abortive, for eventually an engagement was formed between him and Elizabeth, daughter of Catherine de Medicis.

But DEATH robbed even her of her kingly bride

groom; the gentle, pious boy passed early away from earth's joys, cares, pomps, heartburnings, and hollowness; and at his death was laid open one of the most terrible pages of English history. At the very head of this blood-written page stands the innocent, gentle Lady Jane Grey, and she—

CHAPTER II.

MY LADY MARCHIONESS.

"His nature is too noble for the world;

He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,

Or Jove for his power to thunder. His heart's his mouth;
What his breast forges that his tongue must vent;

And being angry, does forget that ever

He heard the name of death."

SHAKESPEARE.

HILE this manoeuvring and bartering was going on amongst some of the nobles of

the Court of England, a mournful scene was taking place in the quiet village of Swithland. Dr. Clive was lying upon his death-bed, and the usually merry Kitty was weeping at his side, while Mistress Norton, the mother of Rowland, was ministering to his wants with watchful eye and tender hand. If gentle, skilful nursing could have saved the doctor's life at this time, most surely he would have recovered, for Mistress Norton was one of the "excellent of the earth," both as regarded kindness and skill; but a kinder and wiser Power

than hers had decreed otherwise. The grasshopper was a burden. The silver cord was about to be loosed. The "spirit" was about to "return unto God who gave it."

With but little warning, the village doctor had been laid prostrate by the disease which was soon to end in death. He had not dreamed of being thus, comparatively early in life, called away; still, human power could not avert the stroke, and there he lay with the death-damps gathering on his forehead, and with a strange dimness creeping over his once keen sight; while a great load concerning the future lot of his motherless child was pressing heavily upon his heart.

"O, thou Father of the orphan, watch over her!" he murmured with intense earnestness; then, with sudden energy, he called for a pen and paper, and wrote hurriedly

"To my Lady Marchioness of Dorset.

"Madam,—I lie here a-dying. My daughter is homeless and penniless. For the love of heaven, let her not want!"

Master Clive added his signature, and as he did so, Mistress Norton bent over him, with tears in her eyes, and said,

"The Marchioness shall have this, but prithee, dear friend, rest thy heart about Kitty, for she shall ne'er want so long as God, in His good pleasure, spareth me.”