The Cardinal smiled with gentle benevolence. Versed though he was in all the tricks and deceptions which were an integral part of his calling, no one knew better than he did the value of an occasional truth. With easy familiarity he linked his arm in that of his interlocutor.
"Nay! your lordship mocks me," he said with a light sigh. "From your conversation I have already gathered that you and your friends suspect me of having brought about this unwelcome meeting 'twixt His Grace of Wessex and Lady Ursula Glynde. Is it not so?"
"Marry . . ." began Everingham with some hesitation.
"I pray you do not trouble to deny it. Let us admit that it is so. Do you not think then that Queen Mary will have a like suspicion as yourself?"
"Probably."
"And will, in consequence, turn the floods of her wrath on my innocent head. A woman angered is capable of anything, my lord. My position at this Court would become untenable. My mission probably would fail. Let us say that by endeavouring to part His Grace from the Lady Ursula, I would wish to give Her Majesty proof of the fact that I bore no part in their chance meeting."
"I understand," rejoined Everingham, still vaguely suspicious of any ulterior motive lurking behind the Cardinal's apparent frankness, "but . . ."
"Once His Grace is effectually parted from his new flame, the game will stand once more as it did before the unfortunate episode of this afternoon . . . unfortunate alike to your interests and to mine. Is that not so?"
"Certainly."
"I feel, therefore, that until then we ought to be . . . well! if not friends exactly . . . at least allies."