"Come, Lord James," said Bertram, laughing, "methinks you be not going
empty away. God bless you, man and maid!--only, good knight and true,
see thou leave not to love Nell Lyngern."

The picture fades away, and another comes on the scene.

The bar of the House of Lords. Peers in their Parliament robes fill all
the benches, and at their head sits the Regent,--Prince Humphrey, Duke
of Gloucester, the representative Rationalist of the fifteenth century.
He was no Papist, for he disliked and despised Romish superstitions; yet
no Lollard, for he was utterly incapable of receiving the things of the
Spirit of God. Henry the Fifth now lies entombed at Westminster, and on
the throne is his little son of nine years old, for whom his uncle
Humphrey reigns and rules. There comes forward to the bar a
fair-haired, stately woman, robed in the ermine and velvet of a
countess. She is asked to state her name and her business. The reply
comes in a clear voice.

"My name is Alianora Touchet, Lady de Audley; and I am the only daughter
and heir of Sir Edmund de Holand, sometime Earl of Kent, and of Custance
his wife, daughter unto Sir Edmund of Langley, Duke of York. I claim
the lands and coronets of this my father--the earldom of Kent, and the
barony of Wake de Lydel."

Her evidences are received and examined. The case shall be considered,
and the petitioner shall receive her answer that day month. She bows
and retires.

And then down from her eyrie, like a vengeful eagle, swoops the old
Duchess Joan of York--the sister of Kent, the step-mother of Constance--
who has two passions to gratify, her hatred to the memory of the one,
and her desire to retain her share of the estates of the other. She
draws up her answer to the claim,--astutely disappearing into the
background, and pushing forward her simpler sister Margaret, entirely
governed by her influence, as the prominent objector. She forgets
nothing. She urges the assent and consent of Henry the Fourth to the
marriage of Lucia, the presence of Constance at the ceremony, and every
point which can give weight to her objection. She prays, therefore--or
Margaret does for her--that the claim of the aforesaid Alianora may be
adjudged invalid, and the earldom of Kent extinct.

Lady Audley reappears on the day appointed. It is the same scene again,
with Duke Humphrey as president; who informs her, with calm judicial
impartiality, that her petition is rejected, her claim disa