Queen Anne Boleyn had made herself very popular, and the upper classes of society had been ready enough to adopt the more quiet and sedate fashion in dress she had introduced. Lady Paton heard, to her surprise, that nearly every one had adopted this fashion, unless they wished to proclaim to the world that they still adhered to the old form of faith.
This, however, was growing dangerous now, for it implied that they did not acknowledge the King's right to assume the headship of the Church, which, springing as it did out of Henry's determination to get rid of his first queen, that he might marry Ann Boleyn, had caused a good deal of strife and bitterness, even among private friends and relatives.
"I often wish we could have the old times back again," said Lady Guildford, speaking to Cicely in an undertone. "Your father and many others say that to be able to read God's Word in peace, and without fear, is worth all the cost. But I do not know; I am only a witless woman, of course, but when I think of your sister Maud," and Lady Guildford shook her head sadly as she mentioned her younger daughter's name.
"What is it, mother? What is the matter?" asked Lady Paton. "You told me Maud was well, and that we should see her, and her husband, too, before the end of the day."
"Yes; but I thought they would have been at this meal with us. I sent to tell her you were coming, as soon as your messenger arrived, and she sent word that she should follow shortly, but she has not come, and I fear that it is her husband that has hindered it."
"But—but why should he?" asked Cicely.
Her mother could not say, "Because he now deems your marriage unlawful, and would not let his wife meet you at all if he could help it." But Lady Paton had an inkling of this, when her mother told her how passionately Mr. Marvin had taken up the cause of Queen Catherine, and how the King's divorce had divided people, and severed friendships that nothing else could have touched.
"I do not wonder at it," said Lady Paton. "My dear mistress was a good woman, and a faithful wife, and why should she be set aside for my Lady Anne?"
"Hush, hush, my child! You must not talk like that, or you will bring us all into trouble with the Vicar-General," said Lady Guildford, in a tone of suppressed terror, as she stealthily looked round the room to make sure that no servant was present to hear the dangerous words. "We cannot trust one of them," she whispered, "now that we know the ways of the Vicar-General and his agents. Times are hard, and taxes are heavy; and who can wonder that the witless knaves and wenches are glad to earn a groat by repeating what you or I may say. They are told no harm will happen through it, the King only wants to know what his people think, that he may please them so the little bits of gossip are reported to the spies, and in crafty hands are woven into a rope that will presently move the headsman's axe; and here we are living close to this terrible peril."
"Oh, my mother! Why should you stay here, then? Why not come and live with us, or at Oxford? Ask father to retire from the Court at once," said Lady Paton.