“Wherefore, gramercy?” inquired Lady Lisle, scornfully.
“Wherefore not, I can say,” said Philippa. “’Twill scarce serve to curry Favelle.” (Note 8.)
“Very little, as I think,” answered Mr Monke. “As to the wherefore, Madam, mecounteth my Lord Archbishop is gone according unto his conscience. ’Tis his wont, as men do know.”
“Humph!” was all Lady Lisle said.
“Men’s consciences do lead them by mighty diverse ways now o’ days,” observed Philippa. “I little wis wherefore all men cannot be of one fashion of belief, as they were aforetime. Thirty years gone, all was peace in religion.”
“The dead are at peace ever, Sister,” said Frances, softly. “The living it is that differ.”
“‘Living,’ quotha!” exclaimed Lady Lisle. “Thy fashion of talk is aside of me, Frank.—But what think you, Mr Monke? Hath every man the born right to do that which is good in his eyes, or should he bow and submit his conscience and will unto holy Church and the King’s Highness’ pleasure?”
Lady Lisle spoke scornfully; but Frances turned and looked earnestly at Mr Monke. Isoult did the same, and she wondered to see his face change and his eyes kindle.
“Madam,” said he, “maybe your Ladyship doth but set a trap for to hear what I shall say touching this matter. But verily, if I must tell mine opinion, in matters so near to a man’s heart and conscience as are his soul and her affinity with God, methinks neither the King’s Highness’ pleasure, neither the teaching of the Church, hath much ado. I would say that a man should submit his will to God’s will, and his conscience to God’s Word, and no otherwise.”
Lady Frances’ eyes were radiant, and a quick flush was kindled on her cheeks. Her mother rose from her chair.