ely chilled and blighted his
feelings. He became moody and discontented; took little share in the
amusement and pastimes going forward; and from being the blithest
cavalier at court, became the saddest. The change in his demeanour did
not escape the notice of Anne Boleyn, who easily divined the cause, and
she essayed by raillery and other arts to wean him from his grief. But
all was for some time of no avail. The earl continued inconsolable. At
last, however, by the instrumentality of the queen and his father, he
was contracted to the Lady Frances Vere, daughter of the Earl of Oxford,
and was married to her in 1535.

Long before this the Duke of Richmond had been wedded to the Lady Mary
Howard.

For some time previous to the present era of this chronicle, Anne Boleyn
had observed a growing coolness towards her on the part of the king,
and latterly it had become evident that his passion for her was fast
subsiding, if indeed it had not altogether expired.

Though Anne had never truly loved her royal consort, and though at that
very time she was secretly encouraging the regards of another, she
felt troubled by this change, and watched all the king's movements
with jealous anxiety, to ascertain if any one had supplanted her in his
affections.

At length her vigilance was rewarded by discovering a rival in one
of the loveliest of her dames, Jane Seymour. This fair creature, the
daughter of Sir John Seymour, of Wolff Hall, in Wiltshire, and who was
afterwards, it is almost needless to say, raised to as high a dignity
as Anne Boleyn herself, was now in the very pride of her beauty. Tall,
exquisitely proportioned, with a complexion of the utmost brilliancy and
delicacy, large liquid blue eyes, bright chestnut tresses, and lovely
features, she possessed charms that could not fall to captivate the
amorous monarch. It seems marvellous that Anne Boleyn should have such
an attendant; but perhaps she felt confident in her own attractions.

Skilled in intrigue herself, Anne, now that her eyes were opened,
perceived all the allurements thrown out by Jane to ensnare the king,
and she intercepted many a furtive glance between them. Still she did
not dare to interfere. The fierceness of Henry's temper kept her in awe,
and she knew well that the slightest opposition would only make him the
more determined to run counter to her will. Trusting, therefore, to get
rid of Jane Seymour by some stratagem, she resolved not to attempt to
dism