r Doctor Sampson's dwelling, at the
back of the north ambulatory. He was reconnoitring the windows of the
house from the opposite side of the cloisters in the hope of discovering
something, when he was caught, as before mentioned, by the king.

Wolsey, meanwhile, was received by Doctor Sampson at the doorway of
his dwelling, and ushered by him into a chamber on the upper floor,
wainscoted with curiously carved and lustrously black oak. A silver lamp
was burning the on the table, and in the recess of the window, which
was screened by thick curtains, sat a majestic lady, who rose on the
cardinal's entrance. It was Catherine of Arragon.

"I attend your pleasure, madam," said Wolsey, with a profound
inclination.

"You have been long in answering my summons," said the queen; "but
I could not expect greater promptitude. Time was when a summons from
Catherine of Arragon would have been quickly and cheerfully attended to;
when the proudest noble in the land would have borne her message to you,
and when you would have passed through crowds to her audience-chamber.
Now another holds her place, and she is obliged secretly to enter the
castle where she once ruled, to despatch a valet to her enemy, to attend
his pleasure, and to receive him in the dwelling of an humble canon.
Times are changed with me, Wolsey--sadly changed."

"I have been in attendance on the king, madam, or I should have been
with you sooner," replied Wolsey. "It grieves me sorely to see you
here."

"I want not your pity," replied the queen proudly. "I did not send for
you to gratify your malice by exposing my abject state. I did not send
for you to insult me by false sympathy; but in the hope that your own
interest would induce you to redress the wrongs you have done me."

"Alas! madam, I fear it is now too late to repair the error I have
committed," said Wolsey, in a tone of affected penitence and sorrow.

"You admit, then, that it was an error," cried Catherine. "Well, that
is something. Oh! that you had paused before you began this evil
work--before you had raised a storm which will destroy me and yourself.
Your quarrel with my nephew the Emperor Charles has cost me dear, but it
will cost you yet more dearly."

"I deserve all your reproaches, madam," said Wolsey, with feigned
meekness; "and I will bear them without a murmur. But you have sent for
me for some specific object, I presume?"

"I sent for you to give me aid, as much for your own sake as mi