about the estates passed by her, hardly
noted. The bitterest sting lay in the assurance thus placidly given
her, that her loving little Richard would be consigned to the keeping of
a woman whom she knew to hate her fiercely--that he would be taught to
hate and despise her himself. He would be brought up as a stranger to
her; he would be led to associate her name with scorn and disgrace. And
how was Joan likely to treat the children, when she had perpetually
striven to vex and humiliate the mother?

The words came at last. But they were of very different character from
those which had preceded them.

"Grant me one further mercy, Sire," she said in a low voice, looking up
to him:--"the one greater grace of death."

"Fair Cousin, we would fain grant you abundant grace, so you put it not
from you with your own perversity. We have proffered unto you full
restorance to our favour, and to endow you with every of your late
Lord's lands, on condition only of your obedience in one small matter.
We take of you neither life nor liberty."

"Life? no!--only all that maketh life worthy the having."

"We wist not, fair Cousin, that our cousin of Kent were so precious,"
replied the King, with the faintest accent of satire in his calm,
polished voice.

But Custance, like a spring let loose, had returned to her previous
mood.

"What, take you nought from me but only him?" she cried indignantly.
"Is it not rather mine own good name whereof you would undo me? Ye have
bereaved me of him already. I tare him from mine heart long ago, though
I tare mine own heart in the doing of it. He is not worth the love I
have wasted on him, and have repreved [denied, rejected] thereof one ten
thousand times his better! God assoil [forgive] my blindness!--for mine
eyes be opened now. But you, Sire,--you ask of me that I shall sign
away mine own honourable name and my child's birthright, and as bribe to
bid me thereunto, you proffer me my lands! What saw you ever in
Custance of Langley to give you the thought that she should thus lightly
sell her soul for gold, or weigh your paltry acres in the balances
against her truth and honour?"

Every nerve of the outraged soul was quivering with excitement. In the
calm even tones which responded, there was no more excitement than in an
iceberg.

"Fair Cousin, you do but utterly mistake. The matter is done and over;
nor shall your 'knowledgment thereof make but little difference. 'Tis
neither