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"Let me see if she can teach and comfort me. Ever since Guy of Ashridge visited Kilquyt, I seem to have been going further from comfort every day. Canst thou lead me to the Grey Lady's cell?" "I could; but she is not now there, Lady." "When will she be there?" "To-morrow, when the shadow beginneth to lengthen," replied Elaine, who was evidently well acquainted with the Grey Lady's proceedings.
But whatever may have been Philip's designs, the time had not as yet come for their realization; the final disappointment of the Queen's hopes of childbirth set Elizabeth free, and in July she returned to her house at Ashridge. From this moment her position was utterly changed.
Besides the instances I have already given, and many others which I may have forgotten, he was heard of, during the earlier part of this decade, as the guest of Lord Carnarvon at Highclere Castle, of Lord Shrewsbury at Alton Towers, of Lord Brownlow and his mother, Lady Marian Alford, at Belton and Ashridge.
A siren sits in the upper basin and sings to the music of her lute. Three little cupids sit on dolphins, and listen to her music. For some years Miss Hosmer has been preparing a golden gateway for an art gallery at Ashridge Hall, England, ordered by Earl Brownlow. These gates, seventeen feet high, are covered with bas-reliefs representing the Air, Earth, and Sea.
It only remains to be added, that the fictitious characters of the tale are Giles de Edingdon and Guy of Ashridge, the nurse Alina, Agnes the lavender, the nuns Laura and Senicula, and the woodcutter's children Elaine and Annora.
"Because it is your nature to love sin, and it is His nature to love holiness. And what we love, we become. He that loveth sin must needs be a sinner." "I do not think I love sin," rejoined Philippa, rather offended. "That is because you cannot see yourself." Just what Guy of Ashridge had told her; but not more palatable now than it had been then. "What is sin?" asked the Grey Lady.
"I am one of the Order of Predicant Friars." "From what house?" "From Ashridge." "Who sent you forth to preach?" "God." "Ah! yes, but I mean, what bishop or abbot?" "Is the seal of the servant worth more than that of the Master?" "I would know, Father," urged Philippa. The monk smiled. "Archbishop Bradwardine," he said. "Then Ashridge is a Dominican house? I know not that vicinage."
With the widower Earl, however, inhabiting now his town-house in Barbican, and visiting but seldom his country mansion at Ashridge, Herts, there still remained his youngest daughter, the Lady Alice of Comus, verging on her twenty-fifth year, and Mr. Thomas Egerton, the younger of the boy- brothers in Comus, now a youth of about twenty.
"He is afar off, and will come no nearer." "Or you are afar off, and will go no nearer? Which is it?" "I think it is the first," she answered; "Guy of Ashridge will have it to be the second. I cannot get at God that is all I know. And it is not for want of praying. I have begged the intercession of my patron, the holy Apostle Saint Philip, hundreds of times."
Guy of Ashridge, she thought, would have preached a sermon on that text. But no answer came from the veiled figure, only her head drooped upon her hand as if she were tired. "Now I am wearying you," said Philippa reproachfully. "I ought to have gone when I first thought thereof." "No," said the Grey Lady.
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