one left in her."

On Good Friday the Marquis of Northampton was released from the Tower.
Dr Thorpe said, the Queen "played at see-saw with my Lord of
Northampton, for he is in the Tower this day and out the next, and so
over again." In the afternoon of Easter Sunday, Esther and Mrs Rose
went out together. When they returned, Mrs Rose went up quickly to her
own chamber; and Esther drew her mistress aside.

"Why, Esther, what is the matter?" said Isoult.

"Methinks I had better tell you," replied she. "I would I could have
helped it; yet the Blessed saw not good. As we came back through
Poules, there was set up on a board a long list of all the priests in
this diocese which have been divorced from their wives by decree of my
Lord of London; and them that had parted by consent were set by
themselves. And in this list--"

"Good lack!" cried Isoult. "Saw you Mr Rose's name?"

"_She_ saw it," said Esther in a low voice, "though I did essay to turn
her away therefrom by bidding her to observe the fair carving on the
other side the way; but it was to no good. She caught the two
names--`Thomas Rose' and `Margaret Van der Velde.' And she brake forth
when she saw them. I thank the All Merciful we two were alone in the
cloister."

"But what said she?"

"`Margaret Van der Velde!' she cried. `I am _not_ Margaret Van der
Velde! I am Marguerite Rose. I have borne his name for two and twenty
years, and shall I cast it off now at the Bishop of London's bidding?
No, not if he were the Pope and the whole College of Cardinals!' Then
she fell into French and Spanish mixed together. And `Parted by
consent!' quoth she. `_Ay Dios! que veut-on dire_? what consent is
there? They thrust us asunder with halberds, and then say we have
parted by consent! God! art Thou in Heaven, and dost Thou see all
this?' she cried."

"Poor soul! And what saidst thou, Esther?"

"I said little, only essayed to draw her away and to comfort her. It is
hard work to bear such things, I know. But I think we be too apt to
seek to be our King's kings--to bring down the Holy One that inhabiteth
eternity to the measure of our poor knowledge. 'Tis not alway when _we_
think Israel at the lowest that Othniel is raised up to judge us. He
will come at the right time, and in time to save us; but very often that
is not the time we would choose."

Poor Mrs Rose! Isoult could scarcely wonder at her words of
indignation. But she had not seen nor b