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But here the heavenly chariot was invisible, and had come noiselessly; the white and glistering raiment of the angels had shone with no perceptible lustre, had swept by with no audible sound. The child wept bitterly. "What troubleth thee, Annora?" said Guy of Ashridge, laying his hand gently upon her head. "Oh!" sobbed Annora, "God hath given her nothing after all!"
But when the Friars Predicants were first set up by the blessed Dominic, under leave of our holy Father the Pope, many of these sectaries crept in among them. A company went forth from Ashridge, and another from Edingdon the two houses of this brood of serpents. "Against my grandfather and others, but especially against these men of Edingdon and Ashridge, Dame Isabelle the Queen set herself up.
The arras of her life, wrought with such hard labour and bitter tears, was complete now. All the strange chequerings of the pattern were made plain, the fair proportions no longer hidden: the perfected work shone out in its finished beauty, and she grudged neither the labour nor the tears now. Guy of Ashridge could see this; but to Annora it was incomprehensible.
"And have you," asked the Grey Lady, very gently, "turned no cold ear to the loving voice of Christ? Have you not kept far away from the heavenly Father? Have you not grieved the Holy Spirit of God? May it not be said to you, as our Lord said to the Jews of old time, `Ye will not come to Me, that ye might have life'?" It was only what Guy of Ashridge had said before.
"Run on, Annora, and say to the Grey Lady that I will be at her cell in less than an hour. Thy feet are swifter than mine." Annora ran blithely forward. Guy of Ashridge pursued his weary road, for he was manifestly very weary. At length he rather suddenly halted, and sat down on a bank where primroses grew by the way-side. "I can go no further without resting," said he.
The father of Lady Jane soon followed, but was little pitied. Queen Mary's next object was to lay hold of Elizabeth, and this was pursued with great eagerness. Five hundred men were sent to her retired house at Ashridge, by Berkhampstead, with orders to bring her up, alive or dead. They got there at ten at night, when she was sick in bed.
The prayer was answered, but not then. "What shall I call you?" asked Philippa, when the monk rose to depart. "Men call me Guy of Ashridge," he said. "I hope to see you again, Father," responded Philippa. "So do I, my daughter," answered the monk, "in that other land whereinto nothing shall enter that defileth. Farewell." And in five minutes more, Guy of Ashridge was gone.
Thomas de Cantilupe, 1282, who died at Civita Vecchia, near Florence, on his way to Rome, August 25th, 1282. His heart was sent to Ashridge in Buckinghamshire, part of the body was buried near Orvieto; and the bones were brought to Hereford and deposited in the Lady Chapel. The pedestal is in shape a long parallelogram, narrower at the lower end.
Elizabeth's uncle, Admiral Lord William Howard, Sir Edward Hastings, and Sir Thomas Cornwallis, were sent to escort her from Ashridge to Westminster, with two physicians who were to decide whether she were well enough to travel.
There shall be an end to her torment then. It is something to think that there shall be no end to his." So, in a tone of bitter, passionate vindictiveness, Joan La Despenser closed her story. Philippa sat silent, wondering many things. If Guy of Ashridge knew any thing of this, if Giles de Edingdon were yet living, if Agnes the lavender had ever found out what became of her revered mistress.
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