“You are right, brother!” cried Anne Boleyn, with a sudden gesture of displeasure. “It is necessary to have this haughty and jealous minister removed. Henceforth all my efforts shall be directed to this end. It may, perhaps, be less difficult than we suppose. The king has been violently opposed to this treaty, which Wolsey has so earnestly labored to bring about--or at least the king suspects him of it--and he told me yesterday that it was vain for the king of France to address him as ‘his good brother and perpetual ally,’ for he regarded as enemies all who presumed to oppose his will. ‘Because,’ he added, ‘I understand very well, beforehand, what their terms will be. Once become the ally of Charles V., Francis will use all his efforts to prevent the repudiation of his aunt; but nothing under heaven shall divert me from my purpose. I will resist all the counsels he may give me!’” “He is much disappointed,” said Lord Rochford, “that the Pope should have been raised, as it were, from the dead. His death would have greatly lessened these difficulties; for he holds firmly to his opinions. I am much deceived, or the commission of legates will pass all their time, and a very long time too, without coming to any decision.” As Lord Rochford made this remark, his wife, the sister-in-law of Anne Boleyn, entered the apartment, accompanied by the young wife of Lord Dacre. Now, as Lady Rochford belonged entirely to the queen’s adherents, and Lady Anne was very much in fear of her, the tone of conversation was immediately changed, becoming at once general and indifferent. “The Bishop of Rochester has returned to London,” carelessly remarked Anne Boleyn, as she stooped to pick up a little embroidered glove. “Yes, madam,” replied Cromwell. “I have seen him, and I find him looking quite old and feeble.” “Ah! I am truly sorry to hear it,” replied Lady Anne; “the king is very much attached to him. I have often heard him say he regarded him as the most learned and remarkable man in England, and that he congratulated himself on possessing in his kingdom a prelate so wise, virtuous, and accomplished.” “What would you wish, madam?” replied Cromwell, who never could suffer any one to be eulogized in his presence; “all these old men should give place to us--it is but just; they have had their time.” “Ah! Sir Cromwell,” replied Lady Boleyn, smiling, “you have no desire, I am sure, to be made bishop; therefore, the place he will leave vacant will not be the one for you.” “You have decided that question very hastily, madam. Who knows? I may one day, perhaps, be a curate. It has been predicted of me.”