"Catherine has not the art to retain him," said Anne. "Henry will never
divorce me."

"Take care he does not rid himself of you in a more summary manner,
daughter," rejoined Rochford. "If you would stand well with him, you
must study his lightest word, look, and action--humour him in every
whim--and yield to every caprice. Above all, you must exhibit no
jealousy."

"You are wrong in all but the last, father," returned Anne. "Henry is not
to be pleased by such nice attention to his humours. It is because I
have shown myself careless of them that I have captivated him. But I
will take care not to exhibit jealousy, and, sooth to say, I do not think I
shall have cause."

"Be not too sure of that," replied Rochford. "And at all events, let not
the king have cause to be jealous of you. I trust Wyat will be banished
from court. But if he is not, do not let him approach you more."

"Poor Sir Thomas!" sighed Anne. "He loved me very dearly."

"But what is his love compared to the king's?" cried Rochford. "Tut, tut,
girl! think no more of him."

"I will not, my lord," she rejoined; "I see the prudence of your counsel,
and will obey it. Leave me, I pray you. I will soon win back the
affections of the king."

No sooner had Rochford quitted the chamber than the arras at the
farther end was raised, and Wyat stepped from behind it. His first