indignation.

King Richard recovered his power by a _coup d'etat_, on the 3rd of May,
1389. He suddenly dissolved and reconstituted his Council, leaving out
the traitor Lords Appellants. It was done at the first moment when he
had the power to do it. But a year and a half later, Gloucester crept
in again, a professedly reformed penitent; and from the hour that he did
so, Richard was King no longer.

During all this struggle the Duke of York had kept extremely quiet. The
King marked his sense of his uncle's allegiance by creating his son
Edward Earl of Rutland. Perhaps, after all, Isabel had more power over
her husband than he cared to allow; for when her gentle influence was
removed, his conduct altered for the worse. But a stronger influence
was at work on him; for his brother of Lancaster had come home; and
though Gloucester moulded York at his will when Lancaster was absent,
yet in his presence he was powerless. So peace reigned for a time.

And meanwhile, what was passing in the domestic circle at Langley?

In the first place, Maude had once more changed her position. From the
lower-place of tire-woman, or dresser, to the Duchess, she was now
promoted to be bower-maiden to the Lady Constance. This meant that she
was henceforth to be her young mistress's constant companion and
habitual confidant. She was to sleep on a pallet in her room, to go
wherever she went, to be entrusted with the care alike of her jewels and
her secrets, and to do everything for her which required the highest
responsibility and caution.

In the second place, both Constance and Maude were no longer children,
but women. The Princess was now eighteen years of age, while her
bower-maiden had reached twenty.

And in the third place, over the calm horizon of Langley had appeared a
little cloud, as yet no more than "a man's hand," which was destined in
its effects to change the whole current of life there. No one about her
had in the least realised it as yet; but the Duchess Isabel was dying.

Very gently and slowly, at a rate which alarmed not even her physician,
the Lollard Infanta descended to the portals of the grave. She knew
herself whither she was going before any other eyes perceived it; and
noiselessly she set her house in order. She executed her last will in
terms which show that she died a Gospeller, as distinctly as if she had
written it at the outset; she left bequests to her friends--"a fret of
pearls to her dear da