"Call me not thus!" said she.

"Queen! My God, is not all the fearful past heard again in that word?
Queen! Is it not as much as to say, condemned to the scaffold and a public criminal trial?
Ah, Jane! a deadly tremor runs through my members.

I am Henry the Eighth's sixth queen; I shall also be executed, or, loaded with disgrace, be repudiated." Again she hid her face in her hands, and her whole frame shook; so she saw not the smile of malicious satisfaction with which Lady Jane again observed her.

She suspected not with what secret delight her friend heard her lamentations and sighs.
"Oh! I am at least revenged!" thought Jane, while she lovingly stroked the queen's hair.

"Yes, I am revenged! She has robbed me of a crown, but she is wretched; and in the golden goblet which she presses to her lips she will find nothing but wormwood! Now, if this sixth queen dies not on the scaffold, still we may perhaps so work it that she dies of anxiety, or deems it a pleasure to be able to lay down again her royal crown at Henry's feet." Then said she aloud: "But why these fears, Catharine?
The king loves you; the whole court has seen with what tender and ardent looks he has regarded you to-day, and with what delight he has listened to your every word.