p-daughter was not far from
positive hatred. She seemed to seek occasions to mortify her, and to
manufacture quarrels which it would have been no trouble to avoid. It
was some time before Maude could discern the cause. But one day, in a
quiet talk with Bertram Lyngern, still her chief friend, she asked him
whether he had noticed it.

"Have I eyes, trow?" responded Bertram with a smile.

"But wherefore is it, count you?"

"Marry, the old tale, methinks. Two men seldom discern alike; and he
that looketh on the blue side of a changeable sarcenet [shot silk], can
never join hands with him that seeth nought save the red."

"You riddle, Master Lyngern."

"Why, look you, our Lady Custance was rocked in a Lollard cradle; but my
Lady Duchess' Grace had a saint's bone for her rattle. And her mother
is an Arundel."

"But so is my Lord's Grace of York [the archbishop] himself an Arundel."

"Ay--as mecounteth you shall see, one day."

"Doth not the doctrine of Sir John de Wycliffe like, him well?"

"Time will show," said Bertram, drily.

It was quite true that Archbishop Arundel had for some two years been
throwing dust in Lollard eyes by plausible professions of conversion to
some of the views of that party. At a time when I was less acquainted
with his character and antecedents, I gave him credit for sincerity.
[Note 1.] I know him better now. He was merely playing a very deep
game, and this was one of his subtlest moves. His assumption of
Lollardism, or of certain items of it, was only the assumption of a
mask, to be worn as long as it proved serviceable, and then to be
dropped and forgotten. The time for the mask to drop had come now. The
death of Archbishop Courtenay, July 31, 1396, left open to Thomas de
Arundel the sole seat of honour in which he was not already installed.
Almost born in the purple [Note 2], he had climbed up from
ecclesiastical dignity to dignity, till at last there was only one
further height left for him to scale. It could surprise no one to see
the vacant mitre set on the astute head of Gloucester's confessor and
prompter.

The Earl of Rutland presented himself at Westminster Palace before his
sister left it, attended as usual by his squire, Hugh Calverley.
Bertram and Maude at once wished to know all the news of Langley, from
which place they had come. Hugh seemed acquainted with no news except
one item, which was that Father Dominic, having obtained a canonry, had
resigned his