'I am beyond measure distressed, Latimer,' said Daundy, 'at the abrupt departure of Thomas Wolsey. Never found I such a transformation of character in any man as in him. Dame Joan tells me, life and animation were completely gone, as far as regarded his spirit; that he was more like a being entranced than the lively boy of former days. Was he ever subject to depression?' 'I have known it occasionally so at Oxford: but I attributed it to over-anxiety in his studies, and the deep interest he took in University proceedings, more than any constitutional affection. I have ever found at such times, that my friendly chat of Ipswich, and his friends, had the effect of raising his spirit.' 'These things seem now to have lost their charm, replied Ellen. 'I fear we shall have but little influence over him, as he has rejected us all for Goldwell, and the cloister.' 'Had I not known that he had taken orders, I might have suspected that some other attraction induced him to pay such deference to the Bishop's Court. I hear that Alice De Clinton has been subdued by him.' 'Is it possible? What in Wolsey could have made Alice bend?' 'I know not, Mistress Ellen. All ladies bend to those they admire; and this dignified and cold statue may see a charm in Wolsey of the same kind as that you have seen in Latimer.' 'Oh! would it might be so; but how can that be, my dear friend, when Wolsey has received at the hands of her uncle that only barrier between their affections--ordination--and its consequent celibacy?' 'That is to me the mystery! I hear that Alice never was so enlivened by any man's society as by his. Her cousin, Archdeacon Goldwell, told me that Thomas had most wonderfully improved her disposition, and by the simple means of not appearing to know she was ever present. All courtesy he paid to the Bishop. All attention to his visitors. He shone in conversation, erudition, policy, and Church government, and bitterly noticed the innovations of the day. But he took no notice of Alice, and might be said to be as contemptuous towards all who approached her. Wolsey was quite her master, and I hear the proud damsel is sick at heart!' Astonishment seemed the prevailing expression in the face of Ellen; who probably marvelled at Wolsey's coldness towards one who was his superior in fortune and rank. De Freston came to meet his aged friend, and then the young people were able to converse by themselves. They came to the conclusion that Alice De Clinton had persuaded herself that Wolsey would be a bishop, perhaps a Pope: and that she might live to bask in the splendor of his greatness. The Tower rose in grandeur amidst the trees as the party approached the park, when Lord De Freston, leaving the side of his friend, hinted to Latimer that he wished for a private word with Ellen. The young man rode forward, and Lord De Freston took his position by his daughter's side.