“Report speaks falsely,” cried Wolsey; “I know him well, and he is what I describe him.”
“I am glad to hear it,” replied Mabel; “and I must own I formed the same opinion myself—for the smile he threw upon me was one of the sweetest and kindliest I ever beheld.”
“Since you confess so much, fair maiden,” rejoined Wolsey, “I will be equally frank, and tell you it was from the king's own lips I heard of your beauty.”
“Your grace!” she exclaimed.
“Well, well,” said Wolsey, smiling, “if the king is bewitched, I cannot marvel at it. And now, good day, fair maiden; you will hear more of me.”
“Your grace will not refuse me your blessing?” said Mabel.
“Assuredly not, my child,” replied Wolsey, stretching his hands over her. “All good angels and saints bless you, and hold you in their keeping. Mark my words: a great destiny awaits you; but in all changes, rest assured you will find a friend in Cardinal Wolsey.”
“Your grace overwhelms me with kindness,” cried Mabel; “nor can I conceive how I have found an interest in your eyes—unless Sister Anastasia or Father Anslem, of Chertsey Abbey, may have mentioned me to you.”
“You have found a more potent advocate with me than either Sister Anastasia or Father Anselm,” replied Wolsey; “and now, farewell.”
And turning the head of his mule, he rode slowly away.