It was observed that Wolsey gave that day such evidences of abstraction of mind as bordered upon aberration. Men prognosticated his speedy decline, and plenty there were among the nobles who were glad to give him a kick, to let him see how truly they despised the man whom they once had feared. When Ellen returned to her parent's prison she narrated, as nearly as she could, the words she had made use of; but the old man, Lord De Freston, shook his head, and said-- 'Men forget their benefactors when ambition has brought them to the pinnacle of fame. Pride likes not to remember it had a patron. Good men only take pleasure in looking upon the past, and calling to mind the ministering kindnesses of any, rich or poor, whoever they might be, that gave them even a cup of cold water in the day of their necessity. The Cardinal has too much pride.' 'Wait, dear father, the return of the messenger. We can but then moralize upon the hardness of the human heart. Let us pray that God will not desert him, though he be so great a man. Something whispers to my heart that we have wronged him.' O! when did female pity fail to hope the best of one for whom it has felt even the slightest regard? Ellen had a wise heart, a kind spirit--the very soul of purity and love--which would not think evil until proof should be given of a hardened heart; and she was not deceived. CHAPTER XXXVI. THE SUMMONS. Whilst they were yet talking of the impenetrable nature of pride, and of all they had heard of Wolsey's magnificence, Cavendish arrived to conduct them all to the Cardinal's palace of York Place. Ellen did but look one moment's triumph before she checked herself for the impiety. She said to herself, 'My father knows not what I do; and it is impious to triumph over a parent's weakness.' The thought of speech, which might injudiciously have come forth as it might have done from thousands--'There, father, who is right?' was but a momentary impression on her soul. Christian delicacy rose superior to all feelings of triumphant boasting, and she suppressed the proud words which died away in her, even with the thought, before the pure spirit of charity. Oh, that all daughters were like her! Where trained in holiest love they will ever be so. De Freston felt the delicacy of his dear child, who spake not one word of reproach to him, but looked all readiness to accompany him, either to the dungeons of an inquisition, or to the palace of a cardinal. Circumstances reprove sometimes the best of men, or rather make them reprove themselves for things which they had too hastily decided upon. So was it with Lord De Freston. He felt he might be wrong, though he was most marvellously astonished at the change which he considered must have come over the Cardinal.