It was no wonder that Maude's work dropped from her hands as she rose hastily; nor that Custance's eyes passed hurriedly on to see who composed the suite. But the suite consisted of a solitary individual, and this was her ubiquitous brother, Edward of York. "God give you good even, fair Cousin!" said Henry, with a bend of his stately head. His manners in public, though less really considerate, were stiffer and more ceremonious than those of his predecessor. "You scantly looked, as methinks, for a visit of ours this even?"; "Your Highness' servant!" was all chat Custance said, in a voice the constrained tone of which had its source rather in coldness than in reverence. "Christ save thee, Custance!" said Edward, sauntering in behind his royal master. "Thou hast here a fine look-out, in very deed." "Truth, Ned; and time to mark it!" rejoined his sister. The door opened again, and with a lout [the old English courtesy, now considered rustic] of the deepest veneration, Isabel made her appearance. "I pray you sit, ladies," commanded the King. The Princesses obeyed, but Maude did not consider herself included. The King took the isolated chair with which the room was provided. "An' you be served, our fair Cousins," he remarked, "we will to business, seeing our tarrying hither shall be but unto Monday; and if your leisure serve, Lady Le Despenser, we would fain bear you with us unto London. Our fair cousin Isabel, as methinks, did you to wit of our pleasure?" What was the occult power within this man--whom no one liked, yet who seemed mysteriously to fascinate all who came inside the charmed circle of his personal influence? Instead of answering defiantly, as she had done to Isabel, Custance contented herself with the meek response-- "She so did, Sire." "You told her all?" pursued the King, turning his keen eyes upon Isabel. "To speak very truth, Sire," hesitated Isabel, "I did leave one little matter." She seemed reluctant to confess the omission; and Custance's face paled visibly at this prospect of further sorrow in store. "Which was that, fair Cousin?" Henry was a perfect master of the art of expressing displeasure without any use of words to convey it. Isabel knew in an instant that he considered her to have failed in her mission. "Under your gracious leave, my Liege," she said deprecatingly, "had your Grace seen how my fair cousin took that which I did say, it had caused you no marvel that I stayed ere more were spoken." "We blamed you not, fair Cousin," responded Henry coldly. "What matter left you unspoken?" "An' it like your Grace to pardon me, touching her presence desired--" "Enough said. All else spake you?" "All else, your Highness' pleasure served," answered Isabel meekly.