Neither Richard nor the archbishop was prepared for a conciliation so
facile, for neither quite understood that peculiar magnanimity which
often belongs to a vehement and hasty temper, and which is as eager to
forgive as prompt to take offence,--which, ever in extremes, is not
contented with anything short of fiery aggression or trustful
generosity, and where it once passes over an offence, seeks to oblige
the offender. So, when, after some further conversation on the state
of the country, the earl lighted Gloucester to his chamber, the young
prince said to himself, musingly,--

"Does ambition besot and blind men? Or can Warwick think that Edward
can ever view him but as one to be destroyed when the hour is ripe?"

Catesby, who was the duke's chamberlain, was in attendance as the
prince unrobed.

"A noble castle this," said the duke, "and one in the midst of a
warlike population,--our own countrymen of York."

"It would be no mean addition to the dowry of the Lady Isabel," said
Catesby, with his bland, false smile.

"Methinks rather that the lordships of Salisbury (and this is the
chief) pass to the Lady Anne," said Richard, musingly. "No, Edward
were imprudent to suffer this stronghold to fall to the next heir to
his throne. Marked you the Lady Anne?--her beauty is most excellent."

"Truly, your Highness," answered Catesby, unsuspiciously, "the Lady
Isabel seems to me the taller and the statelier."