en she had
had nothing to her back, he had sold a farm to buy her a gown. But he
had menaced her with his knife till she was weary, and the ways of men
were troublesome to her; nevertheless she submitted to them with a
patient wisdom.

She submitted to the King; she submitted--though she hated him by
repute--to Cromwell's catechism as they followed the King at a decent
interval.

He walked beside her with his eyes on her face. He spoke of the King's
bounty in a voice that implied his own power. She was to be the Lady
Mary's woman. He had that lady especially in his good will, he saved
for her household ladies of egregious gifts, presence and attainments.
They received liberal honorariums, seven dresses by the year, vails,
presents, perfumes from the King's own still-rooms, and a parcel-gilt
chain at the New Year. The Lady Rochford, who ruled over these ladies,
was kind, courteous, free in her graces as in the liberties she
allowed the ladies under her easy charge.

He enlarged upon this picture as if it were a bribe that he alone
could offer or withhold. And something at once cautious and priestly
in his tone let her quick intuition know that he was both warning her
and sounding her, to see how far her mutinous spirit would carry her.
Once he said, 'There must be tranquillity in the kingdom. The times
are very evil!'

She had felt very quickly that insults to this man would be a useless
folly. He could not even feel them, and she kept her eyes on the
ground and listened to him.

He went on sounding her. It was part of his profession of kingcraft to
know the secret hearts of every person with whom he spoke.

'And your goodly cousin?' He paused. The King had commanded that a
place should be found for him. 'Should he be best at Calais? There
shall be blows struck there.'

She knew very well that he was trying to discover how much she loved
her cousin, and she answered in a low voice, 'I would have him stay
here. He is the sole friend I have in this place.'

Cromwell said, with a hidden and encouraging meaning, her cousin was
not her only friend there.

'Aye, but your lordship is not so old a friend as he.'

'Not me. Call me your good servant.'

'There is even then my uncle.'

'Little good of a friend you will have of Norfolk. 'Tis a bitter apple
and a very rotten plank to lean upon.'

She could not any longer miss his meaning. The King's scarlet and
immense figure was already in the grey shadow of the arc