He was deceiving himself. He was feigning an interest in the garments. His thoughts were elsewhere. He knew he had come close to death and now he was looking the future starkly in the face.

His heir was twelve years old, and he had always believed the boy would have grown to a mature age before he ascended the throne. Little Edward was not yet fitted to be a king. He was not prepared at all. He had been kept at Ludlow, living by a set of rules, governed solely by his Woodville relations. He should never have allowed the Queen to have such influence over the boy. Why had he allowed it? Because Elizabeth had always been so understanding about the life he led, had never complained about his numerous mistresses, had never reproached him and had always received him graciously when he came to her; it was a rare quality in a woman. He had repaid her by letting her honour her family, by setting them in high places. So they surrounded the future king. She had made sure that when her son came to the throne his greatest friends would be his maternal relations.

He had shrugged it aside, telling himself that when the boy grew older he would take him in hand. Perhaps when he was

fourteen he would supervise his education, take him about with him, guide him, mould him, teach him all of the wily subterfuges which had to be practised by kings. There is time, he had told himself.

And then suddenly it had been brought home to him that there might not be time.

He was going to dance this Christmas as much as he ever had; he was going to drink and be merry. But this was for a reason—to show the people that he was not as ill as rumour might have had it. It was true he had had some sort of attack but it was nothing. He was as strong as he ever was. They must go on believing that. He must go on believing it.

He was glad that Richard was coming for Christmas. The sight of his brother did him good. He would confide in him as he could to no other. Poor Anne looked delicate and Edward wondered whether the harsh North was the place for her. He had always marvelled that Warwick—that bold strong man—had only been able to produce two sickly daughters. Richard proudly presented his son—another Edward. A pleasant boy, with clever looks like his father's and the same rather delicate build. So different from the King.

But how glad he was to see him!

Edward was filled with emotion as his eldest son stood before him. He looked so young—rather small for his age which was surprising. People had marvelled at Edward's height when he was his son's age. Young Edward would never match his father in stature. The doctors murmured something about his bones which did not grow as quickly as they should; they thought it was due to something . . . they knew not what. Richard was almost as tall as his brother. Richard looked more healthy. The brothers were pleased to be together. Perhaps it would have been better for them to have been brought up together instead of putting Edward in that establishment at Ludlow.

His thoughts were in turmoil since the realization that he could have died suddenly leaving the affairs of the country in anything but a settled state.

He must go on living for a few years yet. Edward must be of age before he became King.

The festivities progressed and none would have thought the King was in the least disturbed. It appeared that he had shrugged off the perfidy of the King of France, the loss of a pension for

himself and the crown of France for his daughter. He looked magnificent. His colour was a little deeper but that looked like good health. His garments were a wonder to all who beheld them. The sleeves of his handsome robe were very full and flowing, lined with the most expensive furs.

People said that rarely had he looked more handsome. There he was surrounded by five beautiful daughters, his two good-looking sons and his Queen who was reckoned to be one of the most beautiful women in the country.

He danced with his eldest daughter and both he and she seemed to have forgotten that she had just lost one of the most important titles in Europe.

They were all completely entranced by the special Morality which was performed for their enjoyment and the King applauded loudly and rewarded the players more handsomely than they could have hoped for in their wildest expectations.

It was a very happy Christmas. It was only to Richard that Edward spoke of his misgivings.

He made it clear that he wished to be alone with his brother and took Richard to his apartments.

'Richard,' he said when he had assured himself that none could hear them, T am deeply disturbed.'

Richard was surprised, having noticed that Edward had been behaving with exceptional gaiety.

T fear, Richard, that I have failed.'

'Failed?' Richard was amazed. 'You . . . why, you are the most successful King we have had since the third Edward.'

'I have been but I look to what this country is brought to now. If I live all will be well. But Richard, am I going to live?'

'What has happened to you? You are strong. . . .'

'I came near to death a short while ago.'

'But you are fully recovered now.'

'I am unusually healthy but I have impaired my health some would say. Too much riotous living. Too much excitement with the ladies. Too much rich food and wine. . . . You see how I have grown, brother.'

'You could lead a more abstemious life.'

'I was never made to be a monk.'

'There is no need to be a monk. You could eat less, drink less and be faithful to your wife.'

'Ah, there speaks my good brother Richard. You find it difficult to understand men such as I am.'

'You have lost Louis' pension and he is marrying his son elsewhere. Well, you have had worse setbacks. Do you remember when you had to flee the country? As I recall you were not so very worried then.'

'I was young then . . . not so weighed down with responsi-bihties.'

'You will live long yet. The fact that you threw off this attack shows how strong you are.'

'That may be so, but I want to be prepared. I am going to use what hme is left to me to set my affairs in order. I reproach myself.'

'You reproach yourself! You who have brought the country out of anarchy! Order prevails now as hardly ever before. You have brought trade to the kingdom. You scared the King of France into paying you a pension. Forget that he will no longer do so. He did it for a time which was more than we could expect. You have the good will of the people. They love and admire you. You have a family of beautiful children and you seem to have remained pleased with the Queen.'

'Ah, I detect the inflection in your voice when you speak of the Queen. You never liked her, Richard.'

Richard was silent.

'Come,' said Edward, 'this is a time for frankness.'

'She was too low-bom for you,' said Richard.

'Oh come. Who was Warwick before he married and got his lands and title? Yet you considered Anne a worthy bride.'

'I have not been in the position to grant such possessions to her family that they might take over all the important offices in the land.'

'Ah, the Woodvilles! They are your grievance, Richard, as they are to so many others.'

'They are overbearing and arrogant for the most part as should be expected of those who come up suddenly from little.'

'I like them, Richard. They are good company. Handsome people. I like them about me.'

'And you like to please the Queen.'

'We should all try to please our wives, brother.'

'But now I sense this is the reason for your lack of ease.'

Edward was silent.

They have brought up the Prince/ went on Richard. They have imbued him with the idea that the Woodvilles are the most important people in the country.'

'If I should die/ said Edward, 'there might be trouble between the Queen's family and certain nobles/