She was silent for a while, then she said: “No, my tears are not for the Queen, for she is past her pain. It is for the little one who is left, her daughter, the little Princess Elizabeth who is but three years old and without a mother to love her.”

Robert was the center of his world; he saw everything in relation to Robert.

He said: “I am older than the Princess. She is but three and I am four.”

“Yes, my darling. And you have your mother left to you.”

Robert laughed. He was important. He was the most important person in the world. He saw that, in the eyes of his mother and young Guildford who were watching him with such admiration.

The prosperous years had set in. Jane was rich in children; she bore John thirteen—eight sons and five daughters; some of them died when pestilence struck London but her darling grew bolder and more handsome every day.

There he was, a sturdy little fellow, strutting in the Tower gardens, calling to the guards and warders. They all laughed at his swagger. “Ha,” they said, “he will get on in the world, will Master Robert Dudley.”

Meanwhile John had continued with his spectacular rise. He had come a long way now from that boy—of Robert’s age—who had stood on Tower Hill and heard the mob, shouting against his father.

Sir John Dudley was handsome, witty, and clever; he distinguished himself in the tiltyard and at all those sports and pastimes at which Henry himself had once excelled.

“I like this John Dudley,” said the King; “and it was ever my custom to reward those who pleased me.”

Others received their rewards from the King. His fifth wife lost her head on Tower Green and was buried in the church of St. Peter ad Vincula beside the King’s second Queen, who had suffered a similar fate. At this time Henry made Sir John an Admiral of his Fleet and with that honor gave him the title of Lord Lisle. John Dudley had proved himself a good servant.

They were indeed rising in the world. Lord Lisle could look at his sons and daughters and be proud of what he had done for them. He talked to them often and his talk was always of ambition. “See how a man or a woman may rise! Your grandfather, the son of a farmer, was a humble lawyer, and he became the King’s right-hand man. As a boy I saw my father beheaded on Tower Hill and knew myself a penniless orphan. And now, my sons and daughters, here you see me: Lord Lisle, Admiral of the Fleet, and for my services in the Boulogne battle I am to become a Knight of the Garter.”

Robert was entranced by his father’s conversation. He boasted to Guildford as they strolled in the Tower gardens or those about their father’s Chelsea Manor house: “As our father rose, so shall we … higher and higher …”

There were places for the family at Court; and one day Robert was taken to the royal nurseries, where he met the pale Prince—quiet and delicate, full of wisdom he had learned from books; and with the little Prince were the two eldest Grey girls, Lady Jane and Lady Catharine. The girls were quiet and very pretty; and the Prince was fond of them. Guildford, who accompanied Robert, could not make up his mind who was the prettier, Jane or Catharine. Guildford was too young to appreciate the honor of playing with such noble persons.

One day when they were in the nursery, there was a visit from the Prince’s half-sister. That was a day to remember—a day like no other, Robert thought it. When Edward was in command, the talk would be of Latin verses which he and Jane had composed together, or some such matters. Robert had never taken kindly to such arts and graces; he would show his prowess on a horse or at the games, which he always won.

But on that day when the young girl came to the nursery everything was different. Her hair was red, her eyes blue, and she had a sparkling quality which would bubble into laughter or as suddenly into anger.

Robert was quick to sense that all the children were afraid of her, and that she was afraid of none, even though her brother was heir to the throne and she was called a bastard.

Her governess came with her; the Princess giggled with her and she might have been a serving maid until she remembered that she was the Prince’s sister and became as haughty as a queen.

She was a year younger than Robert, and Robert was glad, for he felt that gave him some advantage.

“Who are you?” she demanded. “I have not seen you here before.”

“I am Robert Dudley.”

“Say ‘Your Grace’ when you address me. I do not know a Robert Dudley.”

“You did not,” he said, “but you do now.”

“I do not think that I shall continue to do so,” she answered, turning away. She approached her brother and said: “Brother, what ill-mannered boys are these that you have allowed to be brought to your apartments?”

Young Jane and Catharine looked on in concern, and Edward was uncomfortable.

Robert was the most important person in the world. His mother and Guildford had always thought so. He was no ill-mannered boy; he reminded himself that the Princess was a bastard, but remembering also the gracious manners which his father had taught him, he knelt before the Prince and said: “Your Grace, I kneel before you. I am not so ill-mannered as to forget the honor due to your Royal Highness.”

The Princess laughed and stamped the floor with her foot. “Get up, you fool!” she commanded. “We want no Court manners here.”

Robert ignored her: “I was about to say, your Royal Highness, that I would not bandy words with another in your presence. Have I your gracious permission to rise?”

“Yes, yes,” said Edward. “Get up.”

“If I have the esteem of your Royal Highness, I wish for no other,” said Robert pointedly.

Then the Princess looked again at him and she continued to look. His dark hair curled about his neck. Beside him poor Edward looked more puny than ever. Robert’s skin was pink and healthy; poor Edward suffered so from spots and rashes. And the other boy, Guildford, was frail compared with his brother.

The Princess then began to think that this Robert Dudley was the handsomest boy she had ever seen, and because of his personal beauty she was ready to forgive him his arrogance—and in truth she liked his arrogance, for it matched her own.

She went to him and tapped him on the arm; and when he looked haughtily down at her he saw that she was smiling at him in a very friendly fashion.

“Enough, Master Robert!” she said. “What games do you play?”

He showed her how to play “Pope Julius’s Game,” which he had learned from his elder brothers. She sat by him smiling at him. She set the pace; it was she who usually suggested what games they should play; the others, he could see, had always been ready to follow her.

“Now,” she cried, “we shall compose verses. Each member of the party must add a line.” She looked sternly at Robert: “And,” she added, “it must rhyme.”

She beat him at the game, but he said it was a foolish one and not a man’s game. She retorted that if it were indeed a little foolish he must be very foolish since he could not play it even as well as little Catharine.

She herself was expert with her lines; but after a while she grew tired of the game and showed them the newest Court dances, although how she knew of such matters Robert could not understand.

She herself danced with Robert. “You are the only one of a size worthy of me,” she told him, as she paired Jane and Edward, Catharine and Guildford.

“You would dance well, Master Dudley,” she said, “with a little more practice.”

“I would we could practice together,” he said.

She fluttered her eyelashes and said demurely: “Your Grace.”

And just to please her he said it. She was very satisfied, and so was he. It was indeed a very satisfactory occasion.

Often he met her in the royal nursery, but one day she was not there. She had been retired, Edward told him, to Hatfield, where she would stay with her governess.

How dull it was without her!

King Henry died and the puny little Edward was King of England. John Dudley could view the new reign with confidence, for his standing was even higher under the new King than it had been under the old. Henry had appointed him a member of that Council which was to form a Regency and govern the kingdom until Edward was of age. John Dudley was climbing to the summit of his hopes, but there were two men who stood in his way. These were the uncles of the King, the Seymour brothers; Edward, now Duke of Somerset, the sober statesman, and Thomas, now Lord Sudeley, the handsome philanderer. The only characteristic these brothers appeared to have in common was their overwhelming ambition, and if Edward had the power, Thomas had the popularity. He was not only the favorite of the young King, but the Princess Elizabeth was said to blush when his name was mentioned.

During this time young Robert saw his father become one of the most powerful men in England. He was now the Earl of Warwick, which in itself was significant, for that title had been extinct since the death of the grandson of Warwick the King-maker. Had a new king-maker arisen?

The family was very rich, for the Warwick estate was now theirs. Jane Dudley was apprehensive; often she thought how happy she would have been if her husband could have been content with what he had won. In the last reign no man had been important, except the King; now there were several men all struggling for pre-eminence. She wished she could have talked freely to John; she wanted to warn him. How he would laugh if she did! He had never considered her opinion worth asking for.

Young Robert knew of her fears and tried to soothe her.