'My Lord Cardinal is now the judge of this heretic De Freston. Can there be any doubt of his acquittal when he can receive him before trial, and treat him as his most intimate friend? 'My lord has grown wonderfully tender all at once; and merely from this letter. I see nothing in it but the language of a beggar and an impostor--who is now, through my lord's weakness, enjoying the beggar's joy, the glorious reward of imposition; lodging, food, and comfort. 'They smile at your humility, they laugh at your divinity, and they applaud with vociferous exclamations your charity. But how will my lord acquit himself before the Propaganda? All the house of Cardinals will cry out "Wolsey is a heretic." You will acquit De Freston; you must do it for Ellen's sake. Sweet letter, that can make even a Cardinal merciful. 'I leave, my lord. I have a friend's house to go to. I shall at once to Tonstall, and when he hears that his prisoners are your guests, he will at least rejoice that one of your Grace's free servants has sought his protection. Farewell, my Lord Cardinal.' There are moments in a man's life, even when he is beaten down by his enemies, when his bold spirit is prompt to speak righteousness; witness Wolsey's speech to Suffolk, in reply to his reproach about Cardinals in England. 'If I poor Cardinal had not been, you would not at this present have had a head on your shoulders;' so witness the Cardinal's cool but gentle reply to Mistress Alice De Clinton. I would rather exercise hospitality to the distressed than punish heretics. The former has pleasure here, and the promise of reward hereafter; the latter was nothing but pain, and great doubt of any satisfaction hereafter. If, therefore, Mistress Alice, the price of thy remaining be the forfeit of the duties of hospitality, I would rather thy departure than thy residence. Farewell.' A haughty woman cut to the quick by calm wisdom is such a mortified spectacle of discomfort, that it is well she should be hidden in darkness as soon as possible. Her retirement, the more solitary the more congenial. She may brood over her possessions, her hardships, her mortifications, her injuries, her disappointments; but she can never attain any happiness without a change of heart. If that should come, she will be a joyful wonder to herself; if not, she will be a miserable wretch, and live and die unhappy. Alice De Clinton departed, leaving York Place and its inmates to a day of rest. The Cardinal summoned Cavendish after the lady's departure; and to him he most graciously unburdened his mind.