t Kent had been
told of her flight from Windsor (if York's word could be trusted); that
her children were left at Langley; and that her admissions on her trial
had placed York in serious peril, for liberty if not life. As to the
children, they were probably safe, either at Langley or Cardiff; yet
there remained the possibility that they might have shared the fate of
the Mortimers, and be closely confined in some stronghold. It was not
in Isabel's nature to fret much over any thing; but Richard was a
gentle, playful, affectionate child, to whom the absence of all familiar
faces would be a serious trouble. Then what would become of Edward,
whom she had tacitly criminated? What would become of Richard, the
darling brother, whom not to criminate she had sacrificed truth, and
would have sacrificed life? And, last and worst of all, what had become
of Kent? If he had set out to join her, the gravest suspicion would
instantly fall on him. If he had not, and were ignorant what had
befallen her, Constance--who did not yet know his real character--
pictured him as tortured with apprehension on her account.

"O Maude!" she said one evening, "if I could know what is befallen my
Lord, methinks I might the lighter bear this grievance!"

Would it have been any relief if she could have known--if the curtain
had been lifted, and had revealed the cushion-dance which was in full
progress in the Lady Blanche's chamber at Westminster, where the Earl of
Kent, resplendent in violet and gold, was dropping the embroidered
cushion at the feet of the Princess Lucia?

"Dear my Lady," said Maude in answer, "our Lord wot what is befallen
him."

"What reck I, the while I wis it not?"

And Maude remembered that the thought which was a comfort to her would
be none to Constance. The reflection that God knows is re-assuring only
to those who know God. What could she say which would be consoling to
one who knew Him not?

"Maude," resumed her mistress, "'tis my very thought that King Harry, my
cousin, doth this spite and ire against me, to some count [extent],
because he maketh account of me as a Lollard."

Maude looked up quickly; but dropped her eyes again in silence.

"Thou wist I have dwelt with them all my life," proceeded Constance.
"My Lord that was, and my Lady his mother, and my Lady my mother--all
they were Lollards. My fair Castle of Llantrissan to a shoe-latchet,
but he reckoneth the like of me!"

"Would it were true!" said