between us; whom will you confer with,--me or the archbishop?"

"Oh, the archbishop, by all means, fair cousin," cried Edward, no less
frankly; "for if you and I are left alone, the Saints help both of
us!--when flint and steel meet, fire flies, and the house may burn."

The earl half smiled at the candour, half sighed at the levity, of the
royal answer, and silently left the room. The king, drawing round him
his loose dressing-robe, threw himself upon the gorgeous coverlid of
the bed, and lying at lazy length, motioned to the prelate to seat
himself at the foot. The archbishop obeyed. Edward raised himself on
his elbow, and, by the light of seven gigantic tapers, set in sconces
of massive silver, the priest and the king gravely gazed on each other
without speaking.

At last Edward, bursting into his hale, clear, silvery laugh, said,
"Confess, dear sir and cousin,--confess that we are like two skilful
masters of Italian fence, each fearing to lay himself open by
commencing the attack."

"Certes," quoth the archbishop, "your Grace over-estimates my vanity,
in opining that I deemed myself equal to so grand a duello. If there
were dispute between us, I should only win by baring my bosom."

The king's bow-like lip curved with a slight sneer, quickly replaced
by a serious and earnest expression. "Let us leave word-making, and
to the point, George. Warwick is displeased because I will not
abandon my wife's kindred; you, with more reason, because I have taken
from your hands the chancellor's great seal--"