She realized now how she had dreaded the thought of death. She was young; she was vital; and passionately she wanted to live.

And now she would live; and in time she and Robert would be back at Court.

The King was enamored of this boy Villiers—but let him wait.

Would she say in time that all had been worth while? A few weeks ago she would have believed that to be impossible; but now she was going to live again, richly, gloriously.

But when she discovered that, although the death sentence was not to be carried out, they were still prisoners and might not leave the Tower, Frances’s joy diminished considerably and she was subject to fits of melancholy. How could she plan for a future which was to be spent within the precincts of the Tower of London? What hope had she of taking up her place at Court, of regaining her old influence, when she was a prisoner who was expected to be grateful because she was not dead.