preserve her good looks; she had not the wrinkles of care, nor had she suffered from any of the other ravages with which the wear and tear of ordinary life destroy comeliness, so that casual observers, and those not enlightened as to the domestic annals of the King family, called her a fine woman, and could not see that she had arrived at years when to desire to be called so was very foolish indeed. She had been left with a very large fortune, which ought by rights to have been divided between her and the child of a brother, but which by the influence of Mr. Case had devolved entirely to her.

Mr. Case had a somewhat influential, and certainly a very lucrative post, of an official kind, which of itself brought him a large income; but he was believed besides this to possess a considerable property, and his reputation as a wealthy man had not been the least of his recommendations to Mr. King. All who spoke of Mr. Case unanimously testified to his high place in public esteem; he was powerful by means of his established character for sagacity and integrity; his keenness and the soundness of his judgment were proverbial.

Mr. King, whose death had occurred somewhat suddenly (and prematurely in point of age), had left him sole trustee to his daughter, and as it was to his influence she owed much of her wealth, it was not surprising that of all his clients and admirers she was the most devoted.

Accordingly, she lived by his rule in all business matters, and hardly allowed herself liberty in anything in which she had the happy privilege of asking his advice. She had not the slightest trouble in the management of her estate; by his counsel she limited herself to a certain sum annually, which he paid her, and she permitted him to invest the large surplus in such securities as he thought fit.

ac

Every year when she went through the counts of her possessions with him, she had the pleasure of seeing them noted down as increased, and poured forth a profusion of grateful praises for his wise and benevolent care of her.

The estate of Callowfields, concerning which her nephew Anthony had raised a question, had been recently made over to a purchaser, on what Mr. Case assured her were highly advantageous terms, and the money had been invested equally to her profit.

Miss King had been brought up under the great disadvantage of thinking entirely of and for herselfit needs very little trouble to bring any one up on this system, so agreeable to nature. As an only daughter, left motherless in infancy, she had been her father's idol, and the pains he took to show it speedily and surely made her her own idol.

She had not any extraordinary natural gifts, far from it; but if she had been better trained she would probably have been an average character, not very wise, not very estimable, not very useful, but not quite so foolish, so unattractive, and so useless, as her engrossing selfishness made her. She was not malicious, revengeful, nor knowingly capable of robbery or wrong, but so warped were her views by the one influence of self, that she serenely, nay, with satisfaction, contemplated the accumulation of her thousands, while her brother's widow pined away and died in obscure want, occasioned by the unjust will of her father in her behalf.

Her nephew Anthony was the only surviving son of her offending brother. From an early age he had

had to struggle with difficulties of a pecuniary kind, for his father had so angered old Mr. King by marrying without his consent a lady whose only dower was her intrinsic worth, that he refused to hold any communication with, or to befriend or countenance him or his children. But for the persuasions of Mr. Caleb Case, this vindictive spirit would have given way during his last illness, and he would have in some degree atoned for his unnatural severity to his son, by making at least a partial provision for him and his family.

When, on the death of his parents, Anthony saw himself adrift, as it were, on an unfriendly world, he tried in various ways to obtain a livelihood, and establish himself at least respectably. Although from the circumstances of his childhood and youth he had a very defective education, he had an aptitude for learning, and a natural aspiration for high things, that stood him in good stead, making trebly valuable such help as he obtained. He had also a singularly self-reliant character; this was not understood by superficial observers, who mistook an ingenuous preference for what he believed to be better judgment in others in business matters for an absence of all judgment in himself; but on a question of principle he was firm as a rock.

He was real; valued real things, and set little store by those that had not, to him, the ring of true metal; this reality arose from his early knowledge of the Scriptures, on which his views of things and whole character had been formed. He loved "the truth," and the truth made him free from much of the care that seekers after vain hopes are ensnared by. He was no man of business, but that arose from the defects of his training; his good will to work, his transparent sincerity, and his scrupulous integrity, excellent as they were, and well backed with good common sense, were not enough to make him a merchant like his grandfather, or a lawyer like Mr. Caleb Case.

"Go and see your rich aunt, Mr. King," said one friend after another; for he had many well-wishers, though none that were able to help him.

He had not seen his rich aunt since the days of his earliest childhood, and had no more remembrance of her than of any historical character. He did not expect that she would betray any family affection for him; but he saw no reasonable objection to going, so he went.

His visit took Miss King by surprise. His poor circumstances, instead of touching her with compunetion, gave her a feeling of shrinking from him, which all his honest, straightforward manner could not remove. She dismissed him with the coldness due to a poor relation, and he left her with a fixed resolve never again to visit her without an invitation.

But Miss King had some misgivings, when he had left her, that she had not acted with wisdom. Although he was poor, he was her nephew; and as all her money and her personal attractions had failed to procure for her those relations which might have given her a direct heir, there was no doubt he, if he survived her, would succeed to the family property. Therefore his respectability was of some importance to her, and she felt a wish that he might maintain it, simply because she saw that her own was somewhat involved in his.

As her custom was, she applied to Mr. Caleb Case for advice, and he strongly urged her not to interfere with him; assuring her that she would certainly

hear of him often enough, without any overture on her part. Mr. Caleb Case wanted no interference in Miss King's affairs, and, as usual, she obeyed him implicitly, and it was very long before her nephew again attempted any intercourse with her. When he did, it was to announce to her that he intended leaving England for he knew not how long, and that he did not like to take his departure without saying farewell to his only living relative.

He had, through the kindly help of Cordell Firebrace, a connection of his mother's and his fast friend, obtained pleasant employment, sufficiently lucrative to enable him to live in as much comfort as he cared for; but having for some time feared, from its precarious nature, that it would fail him, he determined, by the study of the French language, to fit himself for travelling secretary and agent to a gentleman who had, through Cordell's influence, offered him the post.

He had so improved in appearance, and his dress was so much better, that Miss King received him with far more approval than before, and when she heard he was going abroad, her manner became cordial; for she did not doubt, though he gave no clue to his plans, that he was going away with some sure prospect of bettering his condition, and might come back a rich man.

"I am sure, Anthony, I wish you every success. I hope you will not want a friend when you come back" (this she spoke very significantly). "Rich people never want friends, Anthony. Come home a rich man, and you will soon find a welcome everywhere; and remember, much gains more'; so all you get will just fit you to succeed to the great King property."

Anthony was too much occupied in speculations on her youthful appearance to say much. Moreover, he was disgusted with her heartless manner and the tone of her remarks; so that he did not press on her an explanation of his true intentions-especially as she seemed to be perfectly satisfied with her own view of them, and to have so set her mind upon it as not to care to be contradicted; so he left her, as he told Mr. Case at his office, under the full impression that he was going to become a Californian or Columbian gold-digger.

His call on Mr. Case was not, however, to enlighten him as to his future, but to make inquiries as to the Callowfields estate, which inquiries had been urged on him by Cordell Firebrace.

The estate of Callowfields, a valuable though small property, Cordell was persuaded from his knowledge of his friend's affairs was not disposable by Mr. or Miss King. It ought to have descended to the old man's son, and to Anthony, his heir, at his death. All Anthony's efforts to persuade him of what seemed to his honest mind as clear as crystalthat Mr. Case could have no interest in wronging him to benefit his aunt, were as ineffectual as waterdrops on marble; but he saw the hopelessness of trying to make Anthony believe what he was convinced was the truth.

"I must fight against him to fight for him," he used to say. "If Mr. Case were a little less of a knave, and Anthony were not so inflexibly honest, it would be an easier business."

Some of his family had for two generations past been engaged in foreign mercantile companies, and the relatives by whom he was connected with Anthony's mother were by birth and residence

Frenchmen. It was from them that he had learned something of the King property, and that a portion of it had certainly been settled on Mr. King's offending son, irrespective of his will and pleasure, and beyond his power to deprive him of it. Zeal for their sister's interest had led them to inquire into these affairs during her life; but after her death their efforts had slackened, and it was not until Cordell, after a long intimacy with Anthony, casually mentioned him as being so shamefully neglected by his rich aunt, that they returned to the subject, and advised him that a small estate undoubtedly belonged to him, which by bequest ought to have been made over to his father when he had attained his majority. Documents were in their hands, which Anthony's mother had become possessed of through her husband, and unless the value of the estate were swallowed up in law expenses, which Mr. Case might oblige them to incur, a fair provision there certainly was for him in it.

"Now, the thing is to make sure before we strike," said Cordell, and to do this he departed from his usual careless, rough and ready way of working, and sought to establish his friend's claim by a chain of evidence of which not a link should be wanting.

There were papers showing that when Mr. King came of age he had demanded to be put in possession of his property, but his death occurring immediately after, the claim had never been enforced, and his widow, sinking under her grief, had consigned the struggle to her relations; and with her decline and death, the question seemed to have been allowed to rest.

Yet it seemed, by the papers in question, that Mr. King had intended Callowfields for his son, and that the title-deeds, if not delivered to him, had been consigned to other hands for his benefit.

Where they lay, if not with Mr. Case, who could divine? Cordell could not; he had worked hard, had greatly tried the patience of his French relatives, and sorely exhausted his own, for the reading of their letters on the subject was a purgatorial work. Suddenly, having heard Anthony speak very highly of the abbé, and not doubting that a master was all he wanted, and that so contemptible a thing as the French language would be learned with very little trouble, he determined to take lessons, instead of any longer spelling out the letters by the help of a dictionary.

He was afraid of trusting to Anthony to translate, as he could not feel sure but that there might be particulars important to conceal from Mr. Case, if, as he suspected, he was acting nefariously in the matter, and he was very sure that gentleman would be able, by management, to get anything out of his candid, single-eyed friend."I can't trust him," he would say to himself, after debating the question over a letter that had given him a headache.

The sale of Callowfields, of which, though it had been conducted with some secrecy, he had become aware, convinced him that speedy and decisive measures must be taken, and he was strong in hope, that putting French and English together, he should be able to gain the day.

The name of Firebrace was not musical in the ears of Mr. Caleb Case. Cordell's father had been the author of an inquiry into some proceedings of his which he had adroitly contrived to justify, while he seemed to turn the blame on his accusers; but with some it had left a slur on his character, and it had

dropped venom in his heart-for Mr. Case was not forgiving, least so when his interests were attacked. Cordell thought that he was working with the profoundest discretion; but he was not so deep but that Mr. Case was beneath him.

If he had wanted a clue to the truth, Anthony's open statements would have been more than enough for him, but he had his eyes upon Cordell and all his doings; he knew of his connection with Anthony, and fathomed his designs, having contrived by indirect means to tamper with his foreign connections. Judging by the rule he himself obeyed, he concluded that Cordell wanted Anthony to be enriched, that he might share in the spoils, and he laughed in his sleeve at his expectations; but a new project struck him as he was thinking over the matter, and he called to Fisher as he sat writing at his desk. "Fisher!"

"Sir?"

"Do you understand French ?"

"You have nine chick-un-chile? What is dat?" inquired the abbé, innocently.

Why young ones, of course, Mr. Habby; now please to consider this," said Mrs. Higgins. "But my good Madame Higgin, dere is many young ones, or 'chick-un-chile as you call him, of De Montmorenci; my sister has marry, and have seven chick-un-chile, and my broder is a sick man, and when I have finish tree tousand pound, I go back to my country, give one tousand to her, and one to him, and live wid de oder tousand myself; now you see, Madame Higgin."

"Well, I'm very sorry; I thought you was a single gentleman, and a gentleman well-to-do, a real gentleman that could help a poor widow," said Mrs. Higgins, who had her doubt of the existence of the brother and sister Montmorenci.

"Gentleman!" exclaimed the abbé, rising on his tiptoes, "have you never heard dat we are of de great Constable? He was my great-I cannot tell

CHAPTER IV.

Whereunto is money good?

Who has it wants not hardihood;
Who has it has much trouble and care;
Who once has had it, has despair."

-Longfellow (from the German).

"ONE, two, tree, seven, nine, tirteen, fifteen; ver goot. It is pretty leetle money; so bright, so fair! but de yellow is better, never mind if he is leetle dirty! Now I shall pay Madame Higgin!"

With more than his usual alacrity, the abbé stepped along the narrow passage, and called at the top of the kitchen staircase, "Madame Higgin, will you permit me de pleasure to make my count with you ?"

Mrs. Higgins, who was accustomed to this mode of address, and glad to hear it, answered briskly that she would be in the parlour in a minute.

"I am two day past de time, madame; but I have wait for my pupil to pay me. I have great pleasure to present you wid one, two, tree, fifteen, dere! It is all right?

"Oh, yes, Mr. Habby, right enough, but I was going to ask you if you didn't think the first floor rooms would suit you, you should have 'em lower than any one else, and I could let these two easier than them."

"But these are suffeecient-nuff for me!" replied the Frenchman. "I cannot pay more, madame; no, I cannot pay more!" and he laid his hand on his heart with his usual solemn gesture.

"Oh, Mr. Habby, Mr. Habby, how can you say so, with your fortune in the bank, and never a chick nor child to look after? And here am I, a poor widow, with nine of 'em, and don't know which way to turn for a shilling!"

Well," said Mrs. Higgins, not at all awestruck, "if that is all, I had a great uncle who was one of the best Charlies ever known; you might have heard his rattle from one end of the street to the other, on a still night;, but I don't see it's any use bragging; what has been is no help to what is."

"Ver good, Madame Higgin, I am glad of your good origin," said the abbé, quite in the dark as to the dignity to which his landlady laid claim; "family rise and family fall, but what of dat?" he was going to finish with his usual jubilant strain, "I got two tousand pound in de bank," etc., but reflecting it would not be discreet just now, he altered it to, "I will try to speak two tree word for you to Monsieur Antoine. He will come here to-morrow, and if he change his lodging, as I tink he shall, he may take de room on first floor. But now I shall prepare my lesson; you will be so good to say to your chick-un-chile not to make too much noise in crying, it make me-!" and he put his hand to his head to express the confusing effect on a weary brain of a baby's doleful tooth-cutting chant of complaint.

Mrs. Higgins withdrew, disappointed, to her own territory, and the abbé proceeded to his work; the little table was soon covered with papers and copybooks, the contents of a small black leather bag. which he always carried with him in his professional visits.

"Que de travail! que de fatigue!" he exclaimed, as he looked at the dingy little heaps with something like a sigh; "n'importe; il faut battre le fer pendant qu'il est chaud-dat is meaning de same as make hay in de sunshine.' Ver goot, I will make de hay of one more tousand ver quick, now my pupil are many."

Taking off his coat, he folded it up very carefully, after dusting and brushing it, and laid it in his box, replacing it with a very antique robe de chambre, which bore evidence at the elbows of his universal talents, being admirably patched and darned.

With an occasional "pah!" and similar exclamations, he went through most of the exercises, correcting and packing them into his bag, till their number was greatly diminished, helped materially in his work by a pinch of snuff now and then.

Perhaps his day's work had been unusually heavy, for with all his good will he seemed unable to finish his task, each exercise became more wearisome, and took longer to set right; at last he exclaimed in

disgust, "Tree more! villain!" and throwing down his pen, sat back in his chair to recover himself by a long yawn.

Suddenly starting up, he went to the cupboard that answered for his buttery and cellar, and contained on the bottom shelf a little frying-pan, a saucepan, and a few cups and plates. Putting on an apron, and turning up his sleeves, he began the preparation of a favourite dish, composed of some fragments of cold fish, an egg, a few dry herbs, and a chopped onion, with less suitable seasoning, as he unwittingly sprinkled it from time to time with the snuff he took in copious pinches.

It had suddenly struck him that he had gone beyond the time of his evening repast, and that he should get through the remaining papers much more easily when he had refreshed himself with an omelette. His spirits rose as his omelette progressed, and he put it into the pan with great satisfaction, singing in a low voice little snatches of French ballads. One turn more and it would be ready, when the door opened and disclosed him standing with the pan in one hand and the fork in the other, the tails of his robe pinned up behind, and his apron hanging down low before.

Ha, ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha, ha!" loudly laughed Cordell Firebrace, coming in without ceremony; "I'm just in time, I declare! nothing could have been more handy."

"Sare! Monsieur Fireplace!" replied the abbé, in some confusion, for he could not let go his pan without spoiling his omelette; "I am ver sorry; I make my souper; Madame Higgin make ver fine omelette, but—”

"You prefer your own cooking? Quite right, you are a sensible man; I have no doubt I should find it difficult to choose between you," said Cordell, looking at the open snuff-box standing close to the pepper-castor, and the brown thumb and finger of the abbe's right hand.

"You shall see, you shall discover!" exclaimed the little Frenchman, quite reconciled by the frankness of his visitor, and shuffling the omelette, which was now done, into the plate waiting for it, he proceeded with alacrity to fetch another from the cupboard, and placed it before Cordell.

"Not a bit for me, no, really; I have dined, and supped, and all that sort of thing," cried Cordell, earnestly; a joke was all very well, but he would have declared himself satisfied for days to come rather than touch the abbé's cooking.

"Oh, I am sorry," said the abbé, not in the least suspecting the true cause of his visitor's declining to eat; "I make it all myself, it is French entirely; but you would prefer-'

"Oh, nothing, nothing at all, I assure you; I could not eat anything just now," said Cordell, hurriedly glancing at the exposed buttery aforesaid, from which emanated not the most refreshing odour, owing to the lately emancipated fish.

"No, no," he added, "eat your supper; I'm sure you ought to enjoy it, for you've earned it in every sense, and that's more than many can say. I'll amuse myself with these till you've done," he said, taking out some papers, "or, if you wish it, I will call again in half an hour.'

The abbé would greatly have preferred the latter, but his native politeness made him declare that he should be delighted to eat his supper in company with his pupil, the purport of whose visit he was

anxious to learn; so he took off his apron, unpinned his robe de chambre, put away his pan, and scated himself at his omelette.

Cordell appeared to be wholly engrossed with the papers, so that he had full time to enjoy his much needed refection, and the table being at length delivered from all remnants and appurtenances of the meal, the abbé invited him to open his business. "You're a very good fellow," Cordell began, as if awaking from an absent fit.

The abbé bowed, his slender little figure being almost lost in his capacious robe, which was an heirloom of the Montmorencis, and too valuable in his eyes to be curtailed of its fair proportions.

"And a super-excellent master," added Cordell. "Vous me faites trop d'honneur," said the abbé, with fresh bows and smiles.

66

Oh, come, English, if you please. French is all very well for Tony King, but you haven't brought me on to that sort of thing yet."

"I did not brought you on, Monsieur Fireplace! I can say I have done to you all my-"

"Oh yes, it's not your fault; but I've no turn for the thing. I am convinced I shall never read, write, or speak anything but English."

The abbe's countenance fell. Here, then, was a pupil lost.

"But I tell you what I want you to do," continued Cordell, "and I'll pay double for the work (though I should think anything would come easy and pleasant, instead of trying to teach me); but I will pay you like a gentleman, and none but a gentleman would answer my purpose."

The abbe's face trembled with animation and delight. Was he charmed at the prospect of high pay y? He was. But was not the titillation of his heart caused by those gentle, chivalrous words? Yes, it was. He rose, made a profound bow, and, with an expression of gratified and grateful feeling, offered his open box.

"Well, it's not objectionable--taken alone," muttered Cordell, laughing as he spoke, so that the abbó did not understand his meaning. "Now, look here.". he said, laying his papers on the table, "my reason for wanting to learn French was this: Affairs in which I am interested are very much in the hands of certain parties who live in your country, and are, in fact, little better than Frenchmen. Ahem! I beg your pardon; but the fact is, I wouldn't have believed that France could have turned out such a capital good fellow as you are; so you must take that against the other. Well, these people are not quite so much alive to their duty as I should like them to be, and I have my doubts about the best way to spur them on. I write to them in English, and they answer me in French. It takes me a day even now, and with your dictionary, to spell out one of their letters; and, after all, a great deal falls through that I cannot bring the dictionary to bear upon, so I can't half get at their meaning; and I dare say I puzzle them as much with my English, so a mistake between us isn't a thing impossible; and that was why I wanted to learn French, for our business is better kept to ourselves, you see."

"I see; parfaitement; it is plain. You must read French better, and write also French better. Ver good."

"No, but I mustn't though. That was what I was coming to," said Cordell. "You must do it for me. That's it. Understand?"

"It is ver plain. I understand. Sans doute," said the abbé, who, however, felt a little mystified, as Cordell saw, and he therefore went over again all he had said before, till he had put him thoroughly in possession of it.

"Here's a heap! Such lingo! and thin paper and small writing! Abominable!" cried Cordell, passing the letters to the abbé.

"Monsieur! eh! it is a long work, dis," said the

abbé.

"Of course it is. We ought to be together morning, noon, and night, till the thing is settled. I don't know how we shall manage it," said Cordell, perplexed.

"Take de first floor; it is cheap; it is now open. Madame Higgin is poor widow, has nine chick-unchile, and make ver good omelette, et je serai ravi de vous faire quelquefois la cuisine moi-même," said the abbé, his enthusiasm not allowing him to wait for English in which to vent his eager desire for Cordell as a fellow-lodger.

'Quizzing? What about that?" said Cordell. "It is cooking I say," explained the abbé. "I shall be so happy to-"

"What, you cook! No, no," said Cordell, laughing. "I'm not particular; a chop-house is enough for me at any time. I won't come upon your time and friendship for that; but I will take these rooms, for then I can see you night and morning."

Mrs. Higgins was accordingly called; and the abbé, to his own intense delight, while he stood on tiptoe, tapping the lid of his snuff-box as he spoke, and bowing with as gracious a smile as if she had been a lady of the greatest attractions and influence, informed her that she might take the card from the first-floor window, for the rooms were let to "dat highly respectable gentleman, his pupil, Monsieur Fireplace.'

Before he and his pupil parted that evening, a great deal of business was done. The abbé had, notwithstanding his imperfect English, thrown considerable light on some matters which Cordell had entirely misunderstood, and he left him relieved and self-congratulating that he had so happily removed the burthen of learning another tongue from his shoulders, by the happy expedient of using the honest little Frenchman.

SPYING OUT A WIFE.

HENRY VII AND THE QUEEN DOWAGER OF NAPLES.

IN N his history of Henry VII, Lord Bacon says, rather quaintly, "When the king was very ancient (A.D. 1505), he had thoughts of marrying the young queen of Naples, and sentt three embassadors with curious and exquisite instructions, for taking a survey of hir person." The names of these three ambassadors were Francis Marsin, James Braybrook, and John Stile. It was by the permission of a descendant of this James Braybrook that the "curious and exquisite instructions" of which Lord Bacon speaks came to be published.

The three ambassadors were not to travel as ambassadors, but as though for their own enjoyment alone; they were, however, supplied with a letter from the Princess of Wales for the young Queen of Naples, so that they might get an interview with

her.

Although the chief reason why Henry wished to make the Queen Dowager of Naples his wife was doubtless her large marriage settlement, yet he was not unmindful of other matters, as will be seen, for we will now quote some of the most amusing of the "instruccons geven by the king's highness, to his trusty and well beloved servants Franceys Marsyn, James Braybroke, and John Stile, shewing howe they shall ordre theymself when they come to the presence of the old quene of Naples, and the yong quene hir doghter."

Item 6. Specially to marke the favor of hir visage, whether she bee paynted or not, and whether it be fatte or leene, sharpe or rownde, and whether hir countenance bee chierfull, and amyable, frownyng or malincolyous, stedfast or light, or blushing in communication.

Item 7. To note the clearness of her skynne. Item 8. To note the colours of hir here. Item 9. To note well hir ies, browes, teethe, and lippes.

Item 10. To marke well the fassion of hir nose, and the heithe and brede of hir forehedde. Item 11. Specially to note hir complexion. Item 12. To marke hir arms whether they bee grete or small, long or shorte.

Item 13. To see hir hands bare, and to note the fascion of theym, whether the palm of hir hand bee thikke or thynne, and whether hir hands be fatte or leene, long or shorte.

Item 14. To note hir fyngers whether they be longe or shorte, small or grete, brode or narrowe before.

Item 15. To marke whether hir nekke be longe or shorte, small or grete.

Item 17. To marke whether there appere any here about hir lippes or not.

Item 18. That they endevor theym to speke with the said yong quene fasting, and that she may telle unto theym some matier at lengthe, and to approache as nere to hir mouthe as they honestly maye, to thentent that they maye fele the condicion of hir brethe, whether it be swete or not, and to marke at every time when they speke with hir, if they fele any favor of spices, rose waters, or muske, by the brethe of hir mouthe or not.

Item 19. To note the height of hir stature, and to enquire whether she were any slippars, and of what height hir slippars bee, to thentent they bee not deceyved in the veray height and stature of hir; and if they may come to the sight of hir slippars, then to note the fassion of hir foote.

Item 22. To enquire of the manor of hir diet, and whether she bee a grete fedar or drynker, and whether she useth often to ete or drynke, and whether she drynketh wyne, or water, or bothe.

Besides these and other things which the ambassadors were to ascertain, they had instructions to get a "conyng paynter," that he might take a portrait of the queen. Their rather difficult mission seems on the whole to have been very well fulfilled; but it did not result in the marriage of the King of England with the Queen Dowager of Naples, for when Henry discovered, as he did from his messengers, that Ferdinand had changed the queen's marriage settlement, which was very large, into a pension for life, he gave up the idea of a union with her; and so the information that he had got as to her personal attractions was thrown away upon him.