by
the regretful thought that if he could bring back that olden time, when
young Henry of Bolingbroke was learning Italian at Milan and Venice, he
might be a happier man than now?

"He hath sisters, methinks, that bear high fame for fair and lovesome?"

"None higher in Christendom."

"And the youngest-born, the Lady Lucy, I take it, is yet unwed?"

"She is so."

"And cometh not behind her sisters for beauty?"

"She was but a little child when I was at Milan," said the King; "but I
hear tell of her as fairest of all the fair Visconti."

"Were it impossible, Sire, that the lady, in company of her young
brothers, should visit your Highness' Court?"

Henry readily owned that it was by no means impossible, if he were to
ask it: but he reminded the Archbishop that the Duke of Milan was poor,
though proud; and that while he would consider the Princess Lucia
eternally disgraced by marrying beneath her, he probably would not
scruple to sell her hand to the highest bidder of those illustrious
persons who stood on the list of eligibles. And Kent, semi-royal though
he were, was not a rich man, his family having suffered severely from
repeated attainders.

"And what riches he hath goeth in velvet and ouches," [jewellery] said
the Archbishop, with his cold, sarcastic smile. "Well--if the Duke's
Grace would fain pick up ducats even in the mire, mayhap he shall find
them as plenty in England as otherwhere. Your Highness can heald [pour
forth] gold with any Prince in Italy. And when the lady is hither,
'twere easy to bid an hunting party, an' your Grace so list. My cousin
of Kent loveth good hawking."

Again that keen, cruel smile parted the priestly lips.

"Moreover, Sire, she must be a Prince's daughter, or my cousin, who
likewise loveth grandeur and high degree, may count the cost ere he
swallow the bait. The Lady Custance is not lightly matched for blood."

"You desire this thing, holy Father?"

The eyes of the two evil counsellors met again.

"It were an holy and demeritous work, Sire," said the priest.

"Be it as you will," returned Henry hastily. "But mind you, holy
Father! you bear what there may be of sin."

"I can carry it, Sire!"

The royal and reverend conspirators parted; and the Archbishop, mounting
his richly-caparisoned mule (an animal used by priests out of affected
humility, in imitation of the ass's colt on which Christ rode into
Jerusalem), rode straight to Coldharbour, the town residence