took his way to the apartments usually reserved for him, when a
gentleman met him by the way, and apprised him, with great respect,
that the Lord Scales and Rivers had already appropriated those
apartments to the principal waiting-lady of his countess,--but that
other chambers, if less commodious and spacious, were at his command.

Hastings had not the superb and more than regal pride of Warwick and
Montagu; but this notice sensibly piqued and galled him.

"My apartments as Lord Chamberlain, as one of the captain-generals in
the king's army, given to the waiting-lady of Sir Anthony Woodville's
wife! At whose orders, sir?"

"Her highness the queen's; pardon me, my lord," and the gentleman,
looking round, and sinking his voice, continued, "pardon me, her
highness added, 'If my Lord Chamberlain returns not ere the week ends,
he may find not only the apartment, but the office, no longer free.'
My lord, we all love you--forgive my zeal, and look well if you would
guard your own."

"Thanks, sir. Is my lord of Gloucester in the palace?"

"He is,--and in his chamber. He sits not long at the feast."

"Oblige me by craving his grace's permission to wait on him at
leisure; I attend his answer here."

Leaning against the wall of the corridor, Hastings gave himself up to
other thoughts than those of love. So strong is habit, so powerful
vanity or ambition, once indulged, that this puny slight made a sudden