"Yes, this is the gratitude of these base-born vassals; but, Calverley, what priest presumed to wed them?"
"The monk John."
"What! the wife's brother! He who has attended the chapel since the death of the late good father?"
"Yes, my lord."
"By Heavens! they seem all conspiring to set my will at nought!—he, at least should have better known what was due to the lord of this castle."
"The monk," replied Calverley, "was not ignorant of my lord's will: and it vexes me, not on my own account, for it was merely a passing fancy; but it vexes me, that this proud, stubborn, priest, while he is eating of your bread, and drinking of your cup, should, in the teeth of your commands, do that which I could swear no other priest would have dared to do; it ill becomes him to preach obedience who——"
"True, true, I will see to him—he shall answer for what he has done—but now Calverley, tell me honestly, for you are not wont to be familiar even with your fellows—tell me what you saw in this maiden that could make you wish to rival Stephen Holgrave?"
"Her beauty, my lord."
"What! is she so fair?"
"My lord, I have seldom looked upon one so fair. In my judgment she was the loveliest I ever saw in these parts."