CHAPTER XXV

THE GARDEN OF YOUTH

CHAPTER I

THE URSULINE LOSES A PUPIL

"If the ship sails at dawn, then I must hasten to tell my mistress of

the departure, and--of her father's letter."

"I am loath to let yonder tide take her away so soon, Janet."

"But my master's words are a positive command to leave Quebec at

once," and Janet's eyes fell to the imperative line at the close of

her letter which read: "In God's name, good nurse, take my baby to

England in all haste."

"Aye, our noble patron's desire must be carried out!" and the Mother

Superior without further lament went from the small cell.

When the last echo of her footsteps had died away, Janet Wadham

cautiously opened the inner door and passed to the cell adjoining, and

to the low couch upon which lay her mistress in sound slumber.

Fondly she noted the beauty of her charge; the heavy waving hair

gleaming in the fading light a bronze-like amber, the white forehead,

the arched brow, the glow of health upon lip and cheek, the slender

neck, the slope of shoulders, and the outline of a perfect form.

Then the maid stirred and opened her eyes. Her whole body thrilled

with the awakening.

"Ah, 'twas like the bursting of a bud! How dost feel now, Mistress?"

"I am not ill at all. I am a martyr to thy imagination. Dost remember

the time, Janet, I drowsed in the chapel and thou didst make me drink

bitterwort for a fortnight?" and the girl's voice rung out in soft

laughter.

"Aye, I have not forgotten, nor why thou wert drowsy either, Mistress

Penwick."

"Nay, thou didst not know."

"I did so. Thou hadst a book of tales and read nights with the candle

shaded by thy mother's landskip fan, and I gave thee aloes for thy

folly."

"Thou dost always find me out, Janet; I shall be glad when I become a

woman as big as thou."

"Thou art a woman to-day, and thou wilt never be as big as I; so,

having age and not a hulking servant's body, be content. I have a

letter from my master, and in it is much that concerns thee--"

"Isn't there always much that concerns me?"

"But not such important concernings. He has gone on a long journey and

proposes one for thee, my lambkin." Katherine raised herself in bed.

"Nay, thou must not stir or I hush my tale! Thy father has provided

thee with a guardian and 'tis to him I take thee. We go to England

by the first boat,--nay, lay back, calm thyself or I take my wagging

tongue away; if thou dost so much as stir again, I leave thee. Thou

art to go to a great house over there and see grand folks with fine

airs and modish dress. Wilt be glad to see outside of convent walls?

'Tis nine years since I brought thee here a babe of six, and have

nursed thee well to this hour, and thy strength and health and beauty

show the care given thee." She suddenly arose and went to the window

to hide if possible her agitation; but when she looked forth on the

snow-covered city and on beyond at the long range of forest that lay

low and black against the arctic sky, she turned from the gloomy scene

and went again to the couch, quickly suppressing all thoughts save

those that were purely selfish: she would be glad to bid adieu to this

great, still northern world and leave behind forever old Quebec, even

though she must divide her treasure.

"I have been a mother to thee, child, and now I must divide my rule

with a cantankerous Scot--"

"Nay, a Scot and lives in England?"

"He lives in England and thy father speaks of bending somewhat thy

quick temper to the mould of self-control as a safer parry to Scotch

thrust; so I conclude the gentleman must be a Scot."

"Janet, 'tis these awful men that wear skirts like women. I remember

many years ago when I was in Sister Agnes' room, of seeing some of

those dreadful pictures of skirts and bandy-legs. They are unseemly

things for men to wear; it is as though one were uncivilised. I hate

him already for it!"

"Lambkin, thou must remember thy teachings. Sister Agnes would

admonish thee for saying hate. Besides thou dost not know the man, he

may be a second father to thee and cajole and pamper thy whims. He

may even eschew plaid frocks and don modish garments--that would

hide bandy-legs still less! Thy father said I must enjoin upon thee

respect, for his lordship's age; regard, for his wishes, and thou art

to obey his commands, as 'twas not possible for him to direct thee

otherwise than good. If at any time he should find thee in fault, be

the matter seemingly beneath notice, acknowledge thy wrongness, for he

hath a temper and might goad thee to greater blunder. His blood flows

hot and fast, and thou must cool and swage it with thy gentle dignity.

Inasmuch as thy moneys and estates are in my Lord Cedric's control,

thou art to receive such income from him without question. Thy father

further directs perfect submission to Lord Cedric in matters of

marriage, as he will bring suitors of high degree for thy choice and

thou wilt find among them a lover to thy liking." The rosy red flew

into the maiden's face and she trembled with a sweet new emotion she

did not understand.

"This is the first time thou hast ever spoken to me of lovers, Janet.

Indeed very strange things seem to be happening to-day. I feel like a

bird about to fly forth from its cradle-nest, I have forgotten how the

world appears. 'Tis broad and vast; it makes me dizzy to think between

these cramped walls that never seemed so narrow heretofore!" She

lay for a moment in deep thought, then,--"Where didst say father

journeyed?"

"He said not, but intimated 'twas a place of safety where he was

happy to go from political intrigue and war, and where he shall meet

friends."

"Why did he not inscribe some words to me?"

"He speaks of an epistle of welcome--and farewell to be given thee

by Lord Cedric upon thy arrival in England. 'Twill give thee greater

pleasure then."

"But Janet; a Scot! A blustering, red-faced Scot with petticoats! Hast

ever seen one outside of pictures?"

"Aye, Lambkin, and 'twas the unseemly kilt that was the better part;

for I have met a blustering red-faced Scot as thou sayest; and he

was boisterous and surly, giving vent to a choleric temper by coarse

oaths; and 'twas his plaid denoted a gentleman of high rank withal.

The long hair that swept his shoulders was as florid as his face, as

was also his flowing whiskers and mustachio, the latter being bitten

short and forming a bristling fringe over a slavering mouth,--what is

it, Mistress, thou art pale, has pain taken thee?"

"Nay, 'tis nausea, an awful loathing; I wish to remain here. Send at

once my desires to my father. I will not go to England, Janet!"

"'Tis better thou shouldst think of something else beside my Lord

Cedric, for instance, his great demesne, Crandlemar Castle, the most

beautiful of his several seats; the splendid horses and equipages;

and, thyself, Lambkin, think of thyself bedecked in gorgeous hued

brocades; be-furbelowed in rare lace and costly furs. And thou wilt

have a maid to build thy hair, tie shoulder knots and make smart

ribbons and frills, and furbish bijoux and gems. And thou wilt wear

perfume, and carry a nosegay and fan. And thou wilt sweep the most

graceful courtesy and queen it everywhere with thy sweet graciousness.

Thy father says thou shouldst become an idol to the old man's heart,

as my lord is without wife or daughter."

"If his demesne be in England, 'tis but right he should become as far

as possible a genuine Anglo-Saxon, and if I can turn him, I will. How

soon does the boat sail?"

"Within forty-eight hours we shall be upon the sea and thou wilt

have begun to whimper and bemoan its awful swell. 'Twill have more

evacuating power than teeth-curtailed mustachios upon thy heretofore

staunch stomach."

"Nay, I will not believe my Lord Cedric such a man; and yet thou hast

drawn a picture that will be ever before me until I see him. Sister

Agnes would say,--'there is a sinfulness in doubt and anxiety,

inasmuch as such thoughts lash the soul to uneasiness and draw it

from celestial contemplations. Think not on it!' neither will I,

but rather, I will fancy the morrow's sun glinting upon myriad

white-capped waves; the bosom of the ocean swelling with emotion

and--didst say 'twould make me ill, Janet?"

"I am afraid of it, 'twill be glorious if thou art not; for 'tis a

wonderful thing to see the rise and fall of sun and moon, and witness

storms that seldom fail to lend their fearfulness to the voyagers of

so long a journey."

"Wilt thou be afraid, Janet?"

"Nay, not I; 'twill be the elixir of ambrosia to breathe salt air

again, and the stronger and more mist-laden the better to knock out

foul exhalations sucked in these nine years from musty walls. 'Twill

be sweet to have the wind rap from us the various fungi that comes

from sunless chambers. Ah, a stiff breeze will rejuvenate thy fifteen

years one month to a lusty, crowing infant and my forty all-seasons to

a simpering wench."

"How splendid, Janet!" Katherine threw out her arms and drew a long,

deep breath. "'Twill be glorious to breathe pure, free air!"

"Aye, my Lambkin, and thy chest will broaden and be larger by two good

inches ere we see chalk cliffs and English waters. Thou wilt open

like a rose to the sunshine of the outer world. But, we are

anticipating--let us speak of the present. To-night we go to vespers

for the last time, and thou must bid thy friends adieu before I tuck

thee in thy cot as we arise and are off before day-dawn. Let thy

farewells be briefly spoken as if thou wert to be gone but a day.

'Twas thy father's wish thou shouldst not grieve at parting with thy

companions, or the Sisters or Mother. 'Tis best to leave them the

remembrance of a face happy, rather than one steeped in sorrow. Say

to them what thy heart dictates, but with a quick tongue and bright

countenance; 'twill tend to suppress tears and numb the pain at thy

heart. When thou art thus engaged I will prepare us for journeying.

Wilt thou wear thy Sunday gown?"

"'Tis none too good! couldst put on a ribbon to relieve its greyness?"

"Ah, Lambkin, thou hast begun already with thy fine lady's notions!

thou wilt be crying for high-heeled boots and built-up hair and stays,

stays, Mistress, stays wilt be thy first cry--oh, Lambkin, thou art

heavy-hearted and I am turning myself into a fool to physic thy

risibles;--I wish we were upon the sea at this moment; if it were

possible I should have taken thee while thou wert in sleep; but nay,

I could not; for thou art a maiden grown and art plump and heavy with

all. If I had taken thee so, thou wouldst have wept anyway, perhaps;

for 'tis thy nature to have thy own way. 'Twould be a cross to thy

father could he see thee now. I doubt not 'twould turn the Scot's

bull-scaring face to ashen hues, 'tis possible--" Katherine's soft

rippling laugh interrupted her, and at its sound Janet leant and

kissed the maid's pink-palmed hands as they lay upon the coverlet,

and taking them within her own fondled them, saying,--"And thou

wilt surprise my lord and his friends by thy rare playing of the

clavichord, and 'tis possible so great and wealthy a man will own a

piano-forte of which we have heard so much; and mayhap thou will be

presented at Court, and in great London town thou mayest see many

musicians from France, for 'tis not improbable they are brought over

the channel at the instance of his Majesty. Is it not grand to think

of all these things, Lambkin?"

"Aye, 'tis glorious! But Janet, let me up and dress me--ah, it seems

an age until the morrow!"

'Twas with greater care than usual Janet made ready her Mistress. And

after sundry admonitions about cold corridors and draughts, opened the

door and watched her in silence as she passed through, and down the

hall to vespers. And when evening prayer was over and Katherine had

gone to say adieu, Janet began to pack the chests for their early

flight; her heart exultant, save for the sorrow of not seeing her

master again as she believed and having some little fear of the new

one she was about to encounter.

CHAPTER II

THE LORD OF CRANDLEMAR

The adieux had been said, the night had come and gone, and with the

dawn the tide drew away carrying with it a large vessel upon the deck

of which stood Janet and Katherine wrapped in long traveling capes.

"'Tis the most wondrous sight I ever beheld! Thinkest thou the

Bethlehem Star could have been more beautiful than yonder Lucifer.

Indeed it seems, Janet, we see in all nature the reflection of the

Christ; the birth of dawn; the presence of the star; these black

waters. 'Tis awesome! Listen, Janet, thou must acknowledge thou

hearest something more than plaint of ocean. 'Tis something more than

sound. It fills me with an exultation I cannot analyze. Dost feel it,

Janet?"

"I cannot tell what I feel, Mistress." And Janet covered her mouth

to smother her laughter; first of all because she felt seasick, and

secondly the child's words stirred in her no such youthful enthusiasm.

She was not yet rejuvenated.

"And with all this glory of nature filling me I can less understand

Sister Phelia's words at parting. Her eyes seemed to burn to my very

soul as she said: 'Dost not feel as thou art leaving these sacred

walls that thou art passing from a retreat where the Blessed Virgin

ever guides thee?' 'I have felt her presence ever, said I. 'But 'tis

better to renounce the world and have strength to live in seclusion,'

she answered. I made bold and replied that I thought it required much

greater strength to go on the battlefield of the world and be good

than live within the impenetrable walls of a cloister where bin cannot

come. 'But, child, thou wilt see beautiful things made by the hand

of man that will fill thy heart leaving not room for the Divine

Presence.' 'Nay,' said I, 'I shall see God's work in every beauteous

thing and I shall trust Him for the gift of penetration to see through

filthy rags and distorted body the beauty of the soul.' 'Twas her wish

that I should write her once a year of my spiritual condition and to

think of her as being happy in her isolation. And with this strange

light about us, the farewell recurs to me and I wonder that human

beings could shut themselves from so beauteous a thing as Nature in

their fear of contamination by sin!"

"My Lambkin, 'they talk strongest who never felt temptation;' thou

art going into a world thou hast not seen, much less, felt its

power. Sister Phelia is right. We acknowledge the Divine Presence is

everywhere; she intimated thou wert leaving a place where sin was not,

to go where it abounded. There is one place, however, we may always be

sure of finding the divine atom whether we be in seclusion or abroad;

'tis in our own heart and called before the ages, 'Holy Ghost.' Many

of us fail to recognize it; others cry 'insolvency'; but the better

part draw on it with confidence. It honours our call and gives us

on demand, conscience, with which we can withstand all sin if we so

desire."

The second day upon the water Janet fell a victim to _mal-de-mer_, and

'twas Katherine who turned nurse; and after four or five days

Janet grew better and was half ashamed, veiling her confusion with

self-accusation: "'Tis good enough for me, 'twas wrong to be eating

pork, 'tis positively forbidden us. I lay it to that! I gave myself

over to eating to make up for a fast of nine long years. Thou hadst

not a qualm because thou hast been fed on wine and porridge and beef

gruel and whey. The clearness of thy body speaks for a pure stomach.

Let the awfulness of my condition warn thee. Thou must never grumble

when I take from thee weightier food than thou hast been used to. But,

Lambkin, we have had a glorious voyage inasmuch as we have had both

calm and storm; had I been privileged to do the ordering, we could not

have had better weather."

Janet and her mistress walked the deck when 'twas possible, from rise

to set of sun, and Katherine expanded until her convent dress became

straightened, and she retired to her bed while Janet let out seams,

augmenting it to her mistress' further comfort and development.

It was almost with regret that they espied land; for Janet was

anxious, and Katherine was apprehensive of the Scot, and as the white

cliffs appeared to rise higher they each wished the sea journey had

just begun.

At last they stood upon English soil, and so bewildered was Katherine

she could only cling to Janet's dress like a frightened child; there

was such a clamour, 'twas like pandemonium. The poor frightened thing

was inclined to believe that the people were mad and raving, and was

hardly called to concentration of thought when Lord Cedric's Chaplain

stood before them dumbfounded by her beauty.

He was a pale, little man, who managed with difficulty to collect his

senses and lead them to an equipage of imposing richness that stood

not far away. And immediately after chests and sundry articles of

travel were placed upon the coach, the rolling wheels carried them

through the town and on beyond, over plains and hills and lonely

moors, through forests of oak and beech, coloured in the grey of

winter. Nor did the ponderous vehicle stop save for a hurried

refreshment or a short night's rest at some wayside inn.

Lord Cedric's orders were not being strictly carried out. The Chaplain

was to bring back to the castle Janet Wadham and baby. Here was the

first-named, but where was the child? The little man was fearful he

had made some mistake, and grew exceedingly nervous when they at last

spied the battlements of Crandlemar Castle, and the child for whom he

had gone must be accounted for.

Night was falling as the equipage bearing Mistress Katherine and her

attendants passed between the massive stone pillars of the gate

into the long avenues bordered by leafless trees; and when yet some

distance from the castle, the occupants could catch glimpses of many

lighted windows. Katherine lay back on the cushions tired, timid,

half-fearful, wondering. Not so Janet; she craned body and neck

fearful lest some small detail of the visible grandeur might escape

her. In a moment more they had stopped at the great entrance, and

immediately the ponderous doors were thrown wide by two ugly little

dwarfs in magnificent livery. Out trooped other menials of perhaps

less age and greater dignity, quickly gathering from the equipage the

chests and bags and other articles of less cumbrousness. Mistress

Katherine, with Janet by her side, was so blinded by the glare of

lights and furbished gildings, she saw naught, but followed on up

winding stairs, stepping twice upon each broad step; through corridors

and alcoves and winding halls, and in her ears was the sound of men's

and women's soft laughter, and she breathed the perfume of flowers,

and inhaled as they passed some half-open door, the odour of _paudre

de rose_ and jasmine.

A woman older, less comely than Janet, and having the smirk of a

perfunctory greeting upon her flabby face, stood within the room

assigned to Mistress Katherine. As her eyes fell upon the maid, she

stepped back surprised, and with a confusion she essayed to hide in

her coarse voiced acknowledgment of their presence.

"The child, madam, where's the child? 'is Ludship sent me to take

charge of the hinfant and 'er nurse."

Janet's voice rang like steel as she said,--"Thou canst fondle me to

thy heart's content, but the 'hinfant his' a maiden grown and well

able to look after her own swathings; 'twould better serve thee and us

to get thee below and prepare thine 'hinfant' grown some meat and

wine with etceteras, and plenty of them, for she hath a lusty and

ever-present appetite. But stay, where wilt thou cradle thy babe's

nurse, in this room beyond the closet?" With a superhuman effort, as

it were,--the woman, confident of the importance of her position,

and the forbearance such an one should have in dealing with the less

consequential,--suppressed her choler and raised her eyebrows, and

spoke with the coldness of her betters.

"Thou wilt sleep there for a time, at least until 'is Ludship's guests

'ave gone; the nurseries 'ave been turned into guests' rooms,--'is

Ludship 'as Royalty beneath 'is roof and bade me take the--the child

to the furth'rest room and keep hits squawking 'ushed!" With a

deprecating gesture, she shuffled from the room.

'Twas a great square apartment, with low ceiling, a small hearthstone

and an immense bedstead with tester and outer coverings of flowered

chintz. The light from the two small candles upon the high

mantel-shelf were dimmed by the greater light from the hearth.

With a long, heavy sigh, which ended in a quiet half-hearted laugh,

Katherine flung herself back in a huge chair and said,--

"Art not afraid to lash tongues with a trusted servant of my Lord

Cedric? She may give thee an ill name."

"Nay, rather, if I had boxed' er hears' 'twould have been better.

Indeed, if thou hadst been absent I should have brawled it with her.

'Ludship'--'tis the cant of a pot house wench,--'is Ludship' to me,

who has been consorting with Sister Agnes and Phelia and Drusah and

the Mother Superior of the Ursuline. Wilt let me dress thee now?"

"Nay, Janet, I will cleanse my face and hands, have my supper--for I'm

nearly famished, and jump into yonder bed that hath a lid--"

"Why, Lambkin, that is a tester, 'tis the first thou hast seen! But,

Lambkin, I would have thee don thy pretty white dress and go down to

more cheerful surroundings."

"Nay, Janet, I could not raise courage. Have my supper brought up!"

"My blessed Lambkin, I will take thee down and see that they give thee

proper food for thy coach-jostled stomach. Thou shalt have a room and

table to thyself. I'll see to it. I thought upon it coming up to this

sky-begotten chamber. The toddy would freeze stiff and the pheasants

grow to clamminess on so long and frigid a journey. I will dress thee

and then will find my way down and make things ready for thy comfort

and privacy."

'Twas a soft, white, clinging gown, high-necked and long-sleeved, with

the perfume of incense in its folds, Janet vested her mistress in. The

thick rolls of hair framing her face glinted with bronze and amber

sheen. Her warm youthful blood coloured her countenance with the tints

of the peach blossom. Thus she stood gloriously beautiful; ready for

conquest.

Janet went below, nor was she gone long ere she came again to her

mistress' side.

"Didst see any signs of petticoats. Janet?"

"Nay, mistress," and her voice was sober and intense. "I tried to find

a servants' stairway, but it seemed all were grand and confusing. And

every moment lackeys rushed by me bearing trays of smoking viands,

and not even so much as looking my way. At last I found one I thought

would take the time to answer a question and I asked him the way

below. He answered me civilly and conducted me saying the while, that

'twas a grand party his Lord Cedric was having; members of the Royal

family being present; he even mentioned the Dukes of Buckingham and

Monmouth. The boy was so filled with good sense I am sure, Mistress,

he spoke truly and that we are within a very great man's house. I

found old flabby, and she took me to a cosy little room with a table

ready spread. So come, my Lambkin, when his Lordship finds not a baby

but a rare gem for his costly setting, his heart will bound with

pleasure and he will regret he did not prepare for a great lady

instead of an infant."

Timorously the maid followed Janet through intricate windings to the

broad stairway.

"Janet, take me through the servants' passage for this once!"

"Nay, thou art a lady, and as such must keep to the grand aisles." So

on they went traversing lofty corridors. In one of these they suddenly

came upon a young gallant of youthful beauty; a mould of elegance and

strength; his countenance was flushed and shaded by curling black hair

that fell loose upon his shoulders. In his shapely, white, bejewelled

fingers he held a blood-red rose, and as his eyes fell upon the most

beautiful face he had ever beheld, he caught his breath and held the

rose to his face to hide his devouring glances as she swept by him

under the soft light cast by the sconces above her head. In a moment

he was upon the stairway, breathless and panting, and leaning over,

dropped the rose at her feet. Her face grew as rosy as the thing

itself, but passing on made none other sign.

"'Tis a conquest thou hast made the first hour, and thou acknowledged

thy victory with naught but a modest maiden blush. But, Lambkin, his

body was not a match for thine; 'twas inclined to be too slender. I

shall pick for thee a beau like Sir Williams's Romeo."

They had now come to where the table awaited Katherine, and Janet

bustled about handing things for her mistress' convenience; then

hurried out to send in the warm food from the oven.

"Janet, didst say the bird was a pheasant?--'Tis grand tasting!"

"Aye, Mistress, and there was a score of other things that I would not

let thee eat; 'twould make pimples on thy snowy neck and shoulders."

"Dost think perchance the young man upon the stairway was the Duke

of Monmouth? He was very handsome, Janet, I think he was very, very

handsome."

"Thou dost have the names of the great upon thy tongue as commonly

as thou sayest Janet; 'tis more than probable he is a country squire

and--"

"Dear Janet, go get thy supper and get back to me, for I would rather

remain here alone than in yonder chamber. 'Tis grand to live in so

great a house, 'tis better than--than the convent. How soon shall

I have fine frocks and jewels and--a beau like yonder one on the

stairway?"

"Thou art becoming exercised prematurely; his Lordship may not

condescend to visit his puling babe before his guests depart. In such

case, thou wilt have time to cool thy haste. I will go now. Do not eat

too much, Lambkin." Janet looked back admiringly as she left the room;

her eyes upon her mistress' daintily ruddy face, smiling at her from

between two tall candles.

Every appointment of room and table was essentially English, and

Mistress Katherine cast her eye about wondering if 'twas so, or, were

they Scotch? She inclined to the former, and a sigh of relief and

happiness escaped her.

Suddenly there was a sound of hurrying footsteps with an accompanying

one of broad Scotch oaths in no low key. A lackey carrying a bag-pipe

rushed into the room and out again without noticing its occupant.

At his very heels was a big Scotchman of large and ridiculous

proportions; red hair, red face, red whiskers, red mustachios, and

bandy-legs, petticoats and all; and a tongue ripping out hot oaths.

In a moment Katherine was upon her feet, her eyes flashed forth

indignation. The keen eyes of the Scot saw her at a glance. He looked,

stared, then bent almost to the floor before her and waited thus for

her to speak. She, not accustomed to the masculine courtesies of

polite breeding, thought his attitude was too prolonged for either a

bow of homage or humiliation; and she straightway in a voice that was

tremulous with emotion, said:

"Has the bitterness of thy tongue taken root in thy stomach?" Quickly

he raised himself at her first word and gazed with enamoured looks at

the amber folds of hair, her glowing face; and with panting breath his

eyes rested upon the round fulness of her form as it palpitated with

rightful perturbance.

"Betake thyself before I inform Lord Cedric of thy presence!" And

she rapped smartly her knife-handle upon the table. "Betake thyself,

begone!" He did not stir nor find breath until she stood forth from

the table and he saw her beauteous being from head to dainty toe of

convent sandal. Then he found voice, and in broad Scotch begged her

clemency, advancing toward her the while and almost kneeling in his

humility.

"If I did not know the queen--"

"'Tis presuming for thee to speak of knowing her; thou dishonourest

the noble plaid thou wearest. Begone from me, sir, instantly. Begone,

I say!"

"Nay, I shall not begone. Tell me who thou art, I know thee not!"

"Tell thee? Nay, 'twould displease my lord if he knew I held converse

with thee thus. He would no doubt send thee from the castle."

"But who is thy lord, pray?"

"Lord Cedric of Crandlemar!"

"Ah, ah,--but it does not displease him. Lord Cedric says thou shalt

talk to him the balance of his days." The maid shrunk further from him

in sheer loathing. At the moment Janet entered, and the rough Scot

turned upon her, and in a voice of command, said,--

"Who is this maid, woman?" Janet scanned him for a moment and a bit of

truth flashed upon her.

"'Tis the honoured daughter of Sir John Penwick," and she bowed to the

floor.

"Ah! ah!!" He retreated in dismay and for a moment was silent,

encumbered with emotions of surprise, admiration, wonderment and

doubt. "Then thou art my ward and thou hatest me already--"

"Thou, thou Lord Cedric, the master of this great house?" And

Katherine in the confidence of Janet's presence, laughed in scorn and

swept from the room disdaining his commands to remain longer. For a

moment he stood stunned as it were; then started toward the door and

looked after their retreating forms, exclaiming the while,--

"Ah!--ah!! Thou a convent baggage ordering the lord of the castle from

thy presence. Never have I been so talked to before. Damn me, I love

thy gorgeous self, thy beauteous body; thou my ward to have and to

hold. I may if I choose say to thee, thou shalt, or thou shalt not.

Hey, hey, there, Christopher!" He knocked loudly upon the panelling

of the door. A lackey entered trepidated. "Go and bring in haste from

Wasson the letter written by Sir John Penwick. Haste thee, mind!" He

turned to the table as if the shadow of her being still rested there

and spoke the continuation of his thought. "'Tis a bit of paper,

Mistress Katherine, that has become of more worth than a king's

ransom. The last will and testament of Sir John Penwick bequeathing to

my father a priceless property,--Thou wert slow, Christopher, but I

forgive thee." He tore the letter from the lackey's hands and sat upon

the chair drawing the candle to his convenience and read aloud:

"'Cedric: When we parted twenty odd years ago 'twas in anger. I hope

thou hast forgotten it as I have.' My poor father had forgotten and

yearned to tell him so. 'I'm upon my death-bed and my consolation is

the remembrance of our mutual faith plighted to each other a short

time before our quarrel. 'Twas the bit of Scotch blood in thee that

brought us to contentious wrangle. I 'minded thee at the time thou

wouldst grieve for thy hot words, and 'tis a balm I send thee for thy

grieved heart; 'tis my baby Kate'--Baby, baby of course I thought

her so and sent her to a nurse's nookery at the top of the towers

to silence the wench's squawkings, and gave Stephen the care of the

freshest young heifer, that the youngster might not lack for proper

food, 'now under her nurse's care in the Ursuline Convent at Quebec.

The child has been environed with all that is pure and good, and will

come to thee with the sweet incense of the cloister clinging about

her. I have heard but once of thee, and 'twas that thy young wife died

leaving thee without heirs. If such be so, thou wilt find a solace in

my baby. Guard her as thine own. I have only enough gold to send her

with her nurse to thy protection.' She will be obliged to come to me

for all things, and I will spoil my own pleasure by giving her before

she asks. 'In my epistle to Janet Wadham I spoke of moneys and estates

being in thy hands. 'Tis a lie that will bring to thy mind more

vividly than aught else my personality--_suppressio veri_; but if thou

findest a like propensity in my babe, thou wilt deal gently but firmly

with her for its correction. I give into thy keeping more than house,

lands or titles. I would direct clemency toward my beloved servant;

she has proven most faithful. My wife truly loved her and at her

child's birth was constantly tended by the vigilant Janet; and 'twas

her desire she should remain always with the babe. Enclosed thou will

find a letter to be given to my daughter upon her arrival to thy care;

'tis a letter of both welcome and farewell. Some day thou must tell

her I am gone on my last journey, tell her when she is surrounded by

pleasant distractions that she may not grieve. She knows naught of

trouble, neither would I have her know. 'Tis possible she may have

some religious ideas that are not identical with thine. She may be

laden with all sorts of shrines, picture-books, candles, crosses and

beads; these religion's playthings thou of sterner mould wilt hardly

consider. My last wish and the one of greatest import to my child is

that thou find for her a spouse of rank and fortune; 'tis my desire

that she marry early to such an one. Ah, Cedric, if thou had hadst a

son, their union would have been our delight; for when thou seest my

Kate thou wilt see the most beautiful thing in life.'

"Aye, she is the most beautiful thing in life. She is mine, my very

own, her father gives her to me for marriage--marriage, and 'tis a

speedy one he asks, and she shall have it. I love her, love her, my

whole being throbs with mad desire. She is the sweetest maid on earth,

and I drink from the cup upon which her rich, red lips have rested;

ah, 'tis sweet!" He poured a bumper and drank, then flung from the

room with great strides.

CHAPTER III

THE BALL

Meanwhile Mistress Katherine sat before the fire in the tower nookery

while Janet unpacked the luggage.

"'Twould not be fitting for Lord Cedric to have such a man within his

house as guest!"

"Neither has he, Lambkin; 'tis his Lordship himself." Her voice rang

truth and Katherine turned dismayed,--

"Nay, Janet, the man was a drunken fool! Surely, surely thou dost not

mean thy sayings. He is not a fit person to be in so great a castle.

Thou art shamming!"

"I mean every word; 'tis my Lord _en masque_, for to-night there is to

be a great and magnificent spectacle."

"And what does that mean, Janet?"

"It means there is to be a masque ball, and my Lord Cedric is in his

costume, and he does not look like that at all. We may be sure he

appears quite the opposite when apparelled in his usual dress."

"But his tongue, he cannot change that!"

"Thou wilt have to wait and see for thyself, and fortune favours, for

now thou wilt not have long to wait. I saw his wicked young eyes--too

young for so old a man, as it appeared--directing enamoured darts upon

thee."

"But art thou not afraid of so oath-beladen tongue? He is dreadfully

profane!"

"He has already seen his peril and will drop his oaths like jetsam and

wilt come to thee with flotsamy oglings and tender nothings and bow

and smirk; and thou wilt find thyself an old man's sweetheart."

"Janet, can we not find some point of observation where we may look

upon the maskers unseen?"

"Thou art speaking my own mind. I will look about and find some

seclusion that thou mayest look and sate thine eyes upon Royalty; and

thou wilt gaze and gaze and make mental annotations, and to-morrow

thou wilt begin to preen thy feathers preparatory to flying forth; but

first thou must lie down and sleep three full hours, 'tis then the

ball will be at its height, and thou wilt feel refreshed and ready to

amuse me with thy observations. 'Twill be the grandest sight for thee.

I have seen many but none so gorgeous as this is to be."

Janet went upon a tour of exploration and finding what she desired in

the way of a quiet corner returned for Katherine. They passed down

flights of steps, through halls, and came to a large corridor that

opened upon a gallery which encircled the ballroom, save where it was

cleft by a great stairway. As they stood looking over the railing,

'twas like looking down upon an immense concave opal, peopled by the

gorgeously apparelled. Myriad tints seeming to assimulate and focus

wherever the eyes rested. Gilt bewreathed pillars, mouldings,

shimmering satin, lights, jewels, flowers, ceiling, gallery and

parquetry appeared like a homogeneous mass of opal. Mistress Katherine

could not speak, her perturbed spirit was silent, she held to Janet

and the curtain that hung at the arch, and breathed in the perfume.

"Canst see thy lord yonder?"

"Nay, I see all collectively, but nothing individually; my eyes fail

to separate this from that."

"Perhaps if thou couldst whip them to his ugly frame, 'twould prove an

antidote."

"'Twill come in time,--I can now discern that 'tis the folk that art

moving and not the flowers and lights. I see a red figure seeming

to hurry among the dancers, looking this way and that, peering and

peeping; he has lost something."

"'Tis more probable he is looking for what he has found; 'tis thy

stairway-beau with the rose; he has retrieved it and is hot upon the

chase again. He is looking for thee.--'Tis vain my lord-devil, thou

hadst better use the time to swathe thy feet in asbestos-flax."

The music of the passacaglia floated up and Katherine drank in its

minor sweetness. Presently the dance changed into the chaconne with

its prominent bass theme, again turning to the poetic and stately

sarabande.

"Now I do see the Scot; he is by far the most homely figure anywhere,

and yet, he is graceful, and it must be a very great beauty with him.

How could the master of so great a house look so?" The music changed

into a sprightly gavotte, Katherine's ears fairly tingled with the

confusion of sound. She lay her head upon Janet's bosom as if drunk

with the surfeit of music.

"'Tis more than I could have dreamed. Didst ever see anything so

beautiful before? It seems years ago since we were within convent

walls!"

"'Twill bring thy seeming nearer if thy lord proposes a speedy return

to the cloister."

"Nay, I would not go."

"Ah, then, enjoy the present and think of moments and not cycles. Here

thou shalt sit on this low divan, behind this tripod of roses; there,

thou canst hear what they whisper when the music ceases." They sat

ensconced in flowers and drapings of satin brocade, looking down

upon splendidly and wonderfully dressed princes and dukes, lords

and counts, with their ladies dancing the gavotte. There was the

perfection of beauty and stateliness and romance. The few unmasked

faces were smiling and bright with powder and rouge; dainty hands

flourished fans; and there was the low click of high heels upon

the parquetry. Jewels flashed and brocades gleamed; a shimmering

accompaniment completing the symmetry of the brilliant dance. It was

not long before Janet called her companion's attention to the lord of

the castle. He was dancing now with a very beautiful woman, even more

so than the one before.

"He steps lightly, being so bandied. Now I think on it, 'twere

possible his legs were cushioned thus to hide a senile thinness!

'Tis human nature when badgered by excess of limit to flounder into

limitless excess. Look upon the Burgomaster at thy feet with a surfeit

of good round legs, he is unfortunate for being in excess, he cannot

whittle down. 'Tis a queer being with whom he dances,--here comes a

queen, see, she stops beneath thee,--sh--'Constance,' my lord devil

calls her, 'Constance'; what thinkest thou, is she not beautiful?"

"See the bones in her neck, Janet, they protrude like pulpy blisters,

and she looks flat of chest for a waist so abbreviated."

"I see thine eyes are ever upon nature, and 'tis best if thy gaze can

penetrate the heart as well."

"Surely we have intuition, and I like not Constance."

"How about my lord with the rose?"

"I like him."

"Oh, impressionable youth! 'thou art the gilded sand from which the

kiss of a wave washes every impress.' Tune thy myriad atoms to imitate

the rock, and gird thyself with strength to meet the battery of

onrushing breakers that grind against thee! Be careful, my Lambkin,

fall not in love with the first handsome face thou seest." The music

ceased; there was naught of sound, but a babble of voice and soft, gay

laughter. The guests passed up the grand stairway, and between the

pillars that guarded the entrance to the vaulted gallery beyond.

Immediately beneath, where Katherine and her nurse sat, were Constance

and her Mephistophelian consort. The former was saying:

"And thou dost say she is extremely beautiful? In what particular is

this queen of thine so entrancing, is it in face or form?"

"Her face is divine, and her form ravishes one with delight."

"She is indeed fortunate to be such a goddess. If she is a

lady-in-waiting to the Royal suite she will depart to-morrow!" and

there was relief in the supposition. Constance continued: "I saw my

kinsman's list of invitation, and among them all there was not one

fitting thy description of this paragon, Adrian!"

"She had the bearing of a princess; she must be a person of note!"

"Adrian,"--and she grasped his arm tightly,--"dost think, thou knowing

the ways of men, Cedric could have some bright being here to keep

him from the dumps, and when guests are present, hides her in some

remoteness?" There was more in Constance' meaning than what she said.

"Nay, nay, any man would be proud to--yet, if Cedric loved he would be

very jealous!"

"Thinkest thou so?"

"I am positive. To-morrow, Constance, I will watch the departure of

the guests, and, if I find not the maid, I will let thee know, and we

will pounce upon my Lord Cedric and have him bring her to our notice."

"Nay, Adrian, I'll tell thee a better way. If she departs not with the

company to-morrow, I will search the castle and find her; for I know

every cranny. I will bring about a meeting, so thou mayest beau her

privately and win her love before Cedric knows aught; 'twill be a

grand joke to play upon him, and 'twill pay him back for trying to

hide from us the gem of his castle." They looked into each other's

eyes but an instant, and they each understood the other.

"'Tis a compact, Constance. 'Twill be sweet to meet her in secret.

God grant she may be a member of my lord's household!" Like a prayer

Constance uttered after him, as they traversed the room to the great

stairway,--"God grant it may not be so!"

"Unlike Hamlet's prayer, their words and thoughts both fly up, and to

such a prayer they will undoubtedly receive an answer; but whether

'twill be satisfactory to the one or the other, remains to be seen,

as the destination of their supplications was a long way this side of

heaven--" said Janet, as she wrapped her mistress in her grey convent

cape and led her without the gallery.

"Is it possible I was the object of discussion, Janet?"

"'Tis probable. The first trophy thou hast gained without appearing

upon the field."

"And what is that?"

"A woman's hate; thy rival hast given thee the first token of

success." They had reached the tower chamber and Janet began to

prepare her mistress for bed.

"I cannot understand thee, I cannot grasp thy meaning."

"Neither would I have thee understand; for if I took from thee thy

innocent mind, I would deprive thee of thy best weapon. Thou hadst

better chatter of thy poor, grey frock thou wilt don on the morrow."

Katherine stood before a small mirror divested of her outer garments.

The soft white thing that bound her graceful, sloping shoulders, had

fallen loose displaying her glorious white neck and bosom. Janet

caught the mirrored reflection and understood and answered,--

"Nay, thou hast no pulpy blisters, neither shalt have while I feed

thee on pap and rub thee with oil; nor yet a flat chest for thy

shoulders are sunk from prominence by its fulness."

"Shall I wear a low bodice thus, Janet?"

"Aye, Lambkin."

"And high-heeled boots and stays,--I must have stays before I appear

at my lord's table."

"Thou shalt not have that 'twould squeeze thy beauteous mould." The

faithful Janet unbound her nursling as if she had been a tiny babe and

swathed her in a soft, warm thing, and bade her get to bed. Katherine

jumped to the middle and lay panting, with happy eyes that had naught

of sleep in them, until on a sudden Janet's voice rung like a menace

on her ears.

"Thou hast forgotten thy rosary; thou hast neither said an _Ave Maria_

or a _Pater Noster_ since our arrival. Thou wouldst neglect thy

religion, and 'tis thy own, sweet precious self that will pay the

penalty."

"Nay, nay, Janet, I will say them ten times to make up for my

forgetfulness." She sprung from her bed.

"To bed, to bed; thou shalt not kneel upon the floor in this ice-bound

chamber. Here, take thy beads and say them once and close thy azure

eyes." Janet watched until the wax-like lids drooped, then softly made

fast the doors. She flung herself into a great chintz-covered chair

and fell asleep before the bright fire.

CHAPTER IV

HIS LORDSHIP'S PROPOSAL

She did not waken until aroused by the grinding of wheels upon the

gravel beneath the window. A servant brought coals and wood and

built a roaring fire that warmed her chilled bones. She ordered her

mistress' breakfast for eleven o'clock, and locking the door upon the

retreating lackey, settled herself in the chair again and fell asleep.

She was next awakened by a smart rap upon the door. The servant stood

upon the threshold gazing at the vision of beauty that had raised upon

her elbow in the bed, and was looking with inquiring eyes.

"His Lordship begs Mistress Penwick to step to the library after her

breakfast."

"Step, to be sure, thou hadst better bring a chariot to cart her

there, and 'twould be out of the question for her to go before getting

anything into her stomach to strengthen her for the journey."

"Shall I tell him so, mum?" said the servant, with a look of roguery

in his eyes.

"'Twould become thee better to tell him without asking if thou

shouldst. Avaunt, get thee gone on thy mission." Then turning to

Katherine,--"'Twould have to come sooner or later and 'tis best sooner

I'm thinking," and Janet stepped to draw the curtains to let in but a

sickly grey light. "Ah, there is a great snowstorm! and there seems to

be a large party about to set forth a hunting." And indeed there arose

to their ears a great noise of baying hounds and the tramping of

horses in the courtyard, and voices were raised high and merry. There

was a rattle of spurs and champing of bits; and as the two women

looked from the window the party set forth.

"Thou wilt go with me, Janet?"

"As far as the library door. I will listen and peep through the

keyhole when no one is passing."

A lackey came to conduct Mistress Katherine below. He looked surprised

at Janet as she followed them, neither was his curiosity appeased when

Mistress Penwick passed through the library door, and the severe-faced

Janet sat down upon a ponderous chair in the corridor just outside.

'Twas a great room with enormous fireplaces, and in front of one of

them stood Lord Cedric. There was a smile on his face as he noted

his ward's surprise. She looked upon him with interest and finally

spoke,--

"Lord Cedric sent for me; he is not here," and she retreated as if to

leave the room.

"Nay, do not leave until thou hast become acquainted with Cedric of

Crandlemar." He held out his hand to her longingly, pleadingly, and

stood thus before her; his figure of an Adonis silhouetted by the

flames that reached above his head in the great chimney behind him.

His face and form was a match for her own. A hunting-coat wrapped his

broad shoulders; his beauteous limbs were encased in high-field boots,

showing well his fine masculine mould.

"How many lords of Crandlemar are there?" she asked, almost

contemptuously.

"One, only," and he still held out his hand with a gesture of

entreaty. "I was the ill-humoured, boisterous man in Scotch attire

last night. I beg thee to forgive and forget it. Come--come--thou art

my ward."

"But my Lord Cedric is an old man, as old as my father, and is

Scotch."

"Thou art speaking of my father; he has been dead five years. Thy

father did not know of his death when he sent thee to England. And

my mother"--his voice trembled--"died when I was born. I was reared

without a woman's love. Angel was too old to teach me tenderness. She

has tried to guide me; but Kate--thy father calls thee so--I have had

no one to love me like thee. I have lived a wild, boisterous life in

Scotland most of the time, and after father died I went to France.

I have lived wickedly, Kate; I have given myself over to oaths,

and--and--and--drink;--'twas so last night when I saw for the first

time the woman I loved; who was as fair in face, form and soul, as all

I had ever pictured or dreamed. Wilt thou forget my course tongue and

try--try--to--to--to love me, Kate. Thou wilt say 'tis soon to speak

so to thee; but why keep back that 'tis best for me to say and thou to

know?" She could not mistake the ring of truth in his voice that was

now so pleading.

"Come, come,"--and as if a happy thought occurred, reached into his

pocket and drew forth a letter;--"here is thy proof that I am Lord

Cedric; thy father's letter," he held it toward her. She came and

reached her hand for it, timidly. His Lordship was one of the most

passionate of youths, nor could he restrain his ardour. He caught her

hand and drew her to him, meeting her graceful body with his own; his

hot breath was upon her hair, and he panted forth;--"Kate, Kate, I

love thee," his arm was reaching about her, when she called Janet

stoutly. The door was flung open and the nurse's face looked upon the

youth like an ominous thing of strength,--then surprise broke over it

and she spoke forth,--

"Who art thou, perfidious youth?"

"I am Cedric of Crandlemar, and I was saluting my ward." Janet took

her mistress from him as he half supported her, and sat down, drawing

her into her lap. Katherine fell to weeping.

"What has happened to thee, Lambkin?"

"I don't know," sobbed Katherine, "assure me if 'tis Lord Cedric."

"We will accept him, anyway, for 'tis a better subject than my Lord

Scot of last night." Thereupon Cedric fell upon one knee at Janet's

feet, and bent his handsome head to Katherine's hand and kissed it.

"Nay, nay, thy lips burn me, and I hate thee for it!" She wiped her

hand upon her dress, and turned her head from Janet's bosom and cast a

scornful glance through her tears.

"I love her, Janet, and she hates me. Her father gave her to me to

love and guard and--marry, 'tis in the letter so; and she shall--"

"Thou talkest too strong to so young a maid; thou must remember that

she is but fifteen, and never used to beaux. Thou art the first man

beside her father to so much as touch her hand."

"She fifteen, 'tis not possible!" and his enamoured glance swept her

form,--"'tis not possible." Mistress Katherine's colour blenched and

heightened, for the ardent masculine eyes made her like and hate

in turn; his countenance glowed with warm youthfulness which both

attracted and repulsed her; and she hid her face again upon Janet's

shoulder.

"'Tis rather young to become wife, but I cannot live away from her, I

must have her."

"Nay, thou must wait until she is past sixteen, and knows her own

mind."

"I cannot wait, Janet, I am too inflammable, she consumes me with her

beauty."

"Then I had better take her where thou canst not see her."

"Nay, nay, she shall not leave me for a day nor hour. She is mine

absolutely, and I'll have her. I have found what is more precious

than all else to me." As Katherine's eyes were hid, Janet placed her

fingers upon her lips, enjoining silence upon the passionate man

before her. 'Twas a simple thing, but Cedric knew from that moment

he had gained a powerful ally. He rose to his feet, and, in softened

tones, continued,--"'Tis the first time I have ever loved, and 'tis

natural I should be impetuous;" then in a tone that was full of

magnanimity,--"I will give thee time to rest from thy long journey

before we buy the wedding garments, I will give thee a whole week."

Then 'twas that Katherine spoke,--

"A whole week, indeed, I shall not marry thee at all, never, I hate

thee. Thou wilt give me my heritage and I will go from thy house; my

father gave it and me into thy father's care not thine, I will write

to him at once and tell him of this terrible mistake."

"Thy father is--" he caught himself in time.

"Thy father is--what?" And she looked at him closely.

"Is too far away over seas, and--might be hard to find."

"Then I will go to him."

"Thou wilt remain where thou art."

"Thou talkest like foolish children. 'Twould better become thee to

prattle of frocks and fixings for my Lady Penwick. Your Lordship will

see to it at once?" It was a happy suggestion. Cedric leant over

Katherine.

"Come, tell me what thou wilt have from London town? thou shalt have

all thy heart asks for."

"Thou art generous with my belongings." 'Twas an unfriendly cut.

"Come, Mistress, what will thou have, make out a list and I will send

it by a courier."

"I prefer to go myself."

"I have guests and cannot go with thee at the present,--and thou canst

not go without me; but thou shalt have the more for this very cause.

Come, tell me thy heart's desire. Be good to me Kate, I love thee so;

I must tell thee, it cuts me to the quick to have thee so set against

me. Thou wilt espouse me some day, sweet one?" Katherine stood up and

shot a withering glance full upon him.

"Nay, nay, nay,--thou wilt let me go from thee!"

"I beg thy pardon, Mistress Penwick, I will urge thee no more now; but

tell me thy wishes. Thou will have first of all, a beautiful hat with

feathers reaching to thy shoulder-tips, and dainty brocade gowns with

boots of the same hue, and jewelled fans, and ribbons and laces and

all kinds of furbelows, and I will give thee to-day some jewels,

rings, and--"

"And a necklace like Constance has?" put in Katherine, unthinkingly.

"Constance--where didst thou see her?" His voice and manner showed

annoyance. "Where didst see her, Kate?" There was a blush on her face

as she answered,

"At the ball."

"Thou wert not there," he said, incredulously.

"Janet and I looked on from the gallery, and Constance stood beneath

us. 'Twas a beautiful thing that encircled her throat."

"Aye, they were pearls; but thou shalt have a circlet that wilt not so

hide thy pink hued neck. To-day, Kate, I will give thee some gems

and thou shalt go with me to the great chests and see the laces they

contain;--and thy colours, Kate, what are thy favourite colours?"

"I love white and violet." A happy smile covered Cedric's face.

"'Tis my mother's choice and by that I hit upon thy fancy as thou

shalt soon see." Cedric racked his brain for more pleasant things to

say. "And thou shalt have a horse and learn to ride."

"Oh, Janet, to have a horse all my own! 'tis too good to be true; 'tis

a thing I have dreamt of." And the delighted girl flung herself at

Janet's feet and embraced her knees from sheer ecstasy. It seemed

peace had come to stay; and for a moment Cedric looked upon her with

eyes full of admiration and, yes, heart full of love; then,--

"Art sure thou hast thought of all thou wouldst have, is the list

complete, Janet; canst thou not suggest something more? I will send

it to one of the court mantua-makers and if thou sendest the proper

measurements our lady will soon be a modish butterfly." At the word

modish a sudden thought came to Katherine and she leant over and

whispered in Janet's ear; then Janet said:

"She must have a pair of stays with each frock."

"Nay, nay, she shall not have stays to pinch so fair a mould; she

shall not have stays, nay, nay, sweet Kate." 'Twas then Mistress

Penwick flew into a passion. She clinched her fists and her face grew

scarlet; she shook her head and threw glances like sword-thrusts at

Cedric, and said not a word but stamped her foot. As she did so, she

saw that in Cedric's eyes that made her calm her passion on a sudden.

'Twas steel against steel. It was Janet's voice that drew Katherine's

attention; for it had in it something it never had heretofore; it was

full of reproach.

"Lambkin, thou art too young for either stays or such a show of

passion. I beg thee to quench thy evil spirit, it does not become

thee." Katherine bent her head and turned from them toward the door.

Cedric called,

"Do not leave until we have all things settled! Kate, dost hear me

speaking?" She pretended deaf ears. "Kate," he said, with emphasis,

"dost hear me? Mistress Pen wick, hear me, heed, heed!" he thundered,

and stamped his foot, the spurs rattling upon the hearthstone. She

turned about reluctantly and rested her hand upon the great oaken

table, looking at Janet as if it had been she that had spoken. Cedric

drew himself up proudly, and spoke in a firm, full voice,

"I am thy father, brother, guardian, anything that love could be to

thee, and all that I have is thine, and when thou art with me thou

mayest do as thy heart dictates, but when thou shalt cross yonder

threshold thou shalt conduct thyself as becomes a daughter and

mistress of the castle. I have beneath my roof guests--my kinswoman,

Lady Constance, whom I have bidden to remain indefinitely, she being

so near of kin has been mistress here; but, from the moment thou

didst enter the portal of Cedric's house, 'twas thou became mistress,

thou--thou mistress of my home, and heart as well; thou wilt accept

the former mission, and I will fight with all of cupid's weapons until

thou dost accept the latter. 'Tis a pragmatic duty to follow my words

and understand them and demean thyself accordingly. To-night thou

wilt come to the drawing-room at the prandium hour, and 'twill be my

pleasure to seat thee at table, and 'twould be best if I acknowledged

our espousal."

"Nay, nay, I will not come then."

"Thou shalt come if thou art in the castle," Janet's scowling

face under cover of the high-backed chair stopped his lordship's

impetuosity, "hast a frock, Kate? thou shalt go to the chest and find

for thee some bright thing and I will send from Crandlemar a woman to

help thee with thy attire. Angel will come to take thee to see the

jewels, and thou shalt have those thou carest to take. I would see

thy choice, Kate. I can almost guess it now. So come, Kate, the storm

without should insure good cheer within; and with thy bright face the

castle will be aglow. Come, say _au revoir_, Kate." She held out her

hand and faltered forth _au revoir_. There was the language of the

convent in that one word and it rung sweet upon her ear. He took her

hand between his own and bent and kissed it tenderly, "_au revoir, au

revoir_" he said, then turned quickly from her.

Outside stood old flabby-face, as Janet pleased to call her, when

alone with Katherine, but designated by the servants as Sophia.

"His Ludship ordered Mistress Penwick's room changed."

"Thou dost mean, rather, he advised a change of room; 'twould be

difficult to convey the tower chamber elsewhere."

It was a beautiful room into which Sophia led them and beyond were

others belonging to the same suite, all in white and gold, with

mirrors and painted walls garlanded with cupids and floral wreaths,

and silken curtains at bed and windows; and cushions and beautiful

venuses and rare potpourri. And when they were quite alone Janet

strutted up and down the rooms enjoying the fulness of her cup.

"'Tis more than thou dreamed again, eh, Lady Pen wick? Thou hast

fallen heir to a queen's portion without the ennui of satiety."

"Truly 'tis a wondrous castle; but Janet can Lord Cedric espouse me

because he is my guardian?"

"Nay, child, but he loves thee, and he means to win thee if 'tis

possible. He is young and self-willed and passionful, and he will have

his own way. Dost like him, Lambkin?"

"Somewhat, but I hate him most."

"Thou wilt impeach thy sweet tongue by that viscid 'hate'; thou hadst

better indulge in less of devil's warfare and leave room for digestion

of gentle peace. Thou hast bloomed into a beauteous maid, but thy

temper hath blown also. My lord hast seen many beauties that he could

have for the asking, and they are doubtless meek and gentle creatures

with soft and ready answer; but if thy cantankerous untowardness

continues he will set thee down as a shrewish wench and will heartily

dislike thee."

"Nay, I would not have any one dislike me."

"Then cease thy uprisings." There came a low knock, and an old

grey-haired woman stepped into the room with that in her face Janet

stood up to honour. She advanced to Katherine and in a trembling voice

said,

"Thou art my lord's ward,--ah, I remember thy father well; thou art a

Penwick over and over again, I could see it with half an eye. I knew

thy father when he was a mere lad, so high; he had as bonny a face as

one cared to see. They tell me thou didst expect to see here my poor

master; is't so? Aye,--well thou hast found his son, the blessedst man

that walks the earth. He has a wicked, bad tongue at times, but he

means nothing. I nursed him and his father, and am longing for a wife

for his lordship." Then: "I am Angel Bodkin, and have come to conduct

thee to the vaults." She led them forth, talking all the while.

CHAPTER V

BACCHUS AND BACCHANTES

Lady Constance had exhausted every means of procuring the desired

information concerning the strange beauty in her kinsman's castle; and

she became fretted and annoyed and was about to give up all hope, when

she came suddenly upon the object of her search in the corridor; and

the beauteous maid, grey-gowned and sandal-shoon, flitted by without

deigning so much as a look. And my Lady Constance swept by with hate

of this formidable creature in her evil heart. She felt it was almost

understood that Lord Cedric would espouse her; she, Lady Constance

Clarmot. To be sure, she was somewhat of riper years than he, but that

counted for naught since they had always loved each other. She was

of a great family and proud and had of her own, titles and estates

and--yes, beauty. She fell to thinking of the many ways in which

Cedric had shown his love for her. He had consulted her on all

occasions upon the most trivial matters until the present instance.

"Could it be possible she is some soft-natured wench that hath fallen

beneath his eye and charmed him, and he has brought her here? Nay,

nay, he would not bring such an one beneath his roof while I remained,

and yet I have but just come and he hath kept her hid; 'tis possible

he will send her away at once." She soliloquized thus until the

candles were brought, and the curtains drawn to shut out the storm,

and she sat beneath her maid's hands heeding naught save her bitter

thoughts. "What had become of Adrian? Why had he not been in to see

her; surely by this time he had learned something being out the

whole afternoon hunting, perhaps side by side with Cedric." Thus

she fretted, and scolded her maid until it was time to go to the

drawing-room. It was a picturesque scene; the ancient castle with

its crenellated tower, from which now pointed a tall flag-pole,

the British Royal Ensign bound closely about it, its colours being

distinctly visible through its casing of ice; for an immense

quadruple-faced light was placed high up in the fork of a tree

opposite the great window of the vaulted saloon, casting its beam to

the very pinnacle of the ensign-staff; lighting the castle from end to

end upon its northern side, where the great avenues converged. A shaft

reluctantly and gloomily effused the near density of the forest;

another ray gladdening the expectant eyes of the guest from Londonway;

while yet another broad gleam sped the departing traveler over the

threshold of the forest into the gloom-environed pathway beyond. Upon

every shelving projection of the unhewn stone structure was ice. The

entire walls scintillated with a fairy brilliancy, and the trees as

they swayed back and forth propelled by the unceasing wind caused such

a coruscation of sparkles it fairly blinded the spectator. Beneath

the spreading branches were a host of men, horses and dogs. The gay

costumes of the huntsmen showing resplendent in the ice-bespangled

light. The horns were lowered, and there was a confusion of tongues

between groomsmen and lackeys; and there were shouts of welcome from

the wide-open doorway of the servants' hall; for 'twas here the game

was brought and laid upon the stone floor or hung upon pegs on the

wall for the inspection of the guests. Lord Cedric leapt from his

horse, throwing the reins to a waiting groom; strode into the hall

with rattling spurs and flung through the rooms and up the stairway to

his Lady Katherine's bower, and rapped smartly upon the panelling of

the door. The vision that met his amorous eyes sent him hot and cold;

and 'twas with difficulty he restrained himself from encircling her

full, glowing body.

"The hours I have been from thee have seemed weeks, and I was of no

use in the field; my gun would entangle in the low-hanging boughs;

and on the wold my steed's feet were caught in the dry gorse, until I

could not get near enough to shoot anything. On the other hand, Cupid

has arrowed me to the death, and I come,--a shade for thee to put life

into; and the sight of thee is a life-giving thing." Katherine's face

flamed with his warm words, and the consciousness of the beauty of her

new adornment; for she stood before him in an amber shimmering stuff

that clung to her lithe limbs, hiding not her slender ankle and her

arched satin shoe, as her dress caught about a stool that held it. The

short round waist betrayed the fulness of her form, and Cedric turned

his eyes away from sheer giddiness, drunk with love. He spoke to

Janet with quick breath:--"Bring her down to see the game."--Then,

suddenly,--"Where are thy jewels, Kate?" He espied a casket, and

hastening to it took from it rings, fitting them upon Mistress

Penwick's tapering fingers, until her hand was heavy. Of other jewels

she'd have none. "But thou must have a shoulder knot," said Cedric,

and he took from the casket a glittering shoulder brooch of opals and

clasped it in the satin of her frock, and drew from a tripod of white

and gold a flaming jacqueminot and gave it into her hand and led her

forth, followed closely by Janet. Down the great stairway he led

her proudly, through corridor and passage, until they reached the

servants' hall, where the clamour of voices and baying hounds was like

pandemonium; and at the sound Mistress Penwick drew back with fear.

For a moment Cedric was sorely tried to keep from bending to those

rose-bowed lips. She saw him hesitate, and stammered forth:

"Lead on, my lord!"

He swung open the door and instantly all eyes were set upon his fair

ward. First his Lordship's face was exultant, then seeing Mistress

Penwick's glances that pierced every masculine heart, and her dazzling

beauty drunk in by all; his face grew dark, and jealousy possessed

him, and fear crept in, and he vowed to wed her at the earliest

moment.

"'Tis Sir John Penwick's daughter, Mistress Katherine Penwick, my

father's ward," and he led her to their midst.

"She is a wondrous beauty," many murmured as they saw her.

"Dazzling, by God!" whispered some of the masculines that stood apart,

and there were others that spoke not a word, but stood spell-bound

at her majestic mien. A gorgeously apparelled figure swept to his

Lordship's side, and a little hand crept into his and black flashing

eyes looked up, and a soft voice whispered,--

"Thou didst never speak of--this, the most charming of thy

possessions, heretofore, Cedric. I knew not thou didst inherit so

beauteous a being from thy father. But Sir John,--England has not

heard of his death--"

"Sh! sh! she does not know," Cedric answered.

"Not know--ah!" and Lady Constance drew from him and looked at

Katherine with malice and thought evil; "'tis not Sir John's daughter,

'tis some trick Cedric plays upon his guests and me; it goes to show

that his relations to her are ill, and his intentions are to raise her

to our level. Nay, nay, Cedric, I will lift thee beyond such a thing.

When he has time alone, I will gain his ear and taunt him with a

debauched youth; free from heart or conscience; a rake to betray; and

I will win him from beauteous, youthful Bacchante. 'Tis his pleasure

to swear and swagger; but at twenty-three he should not begin to

carouse with female beauty. 'Tis time, and I will tell him so, for him

to bring a lady as wife to the castle. I will speak to him at once. He

has gone too far."

Lord Cedric drew Katherine to inspect the trophies of the chase, and

explained their kind and the mode of capture. She with others followed

him; the gentler folk raising frocks from pools and streams of blood,

thereby displaying high-heeled shoe and slender ankle and ruffles of

rare lace; and they gathered close about Mistress Penwick, drinking in

her simple convent ways of glance and gesture and fresh, young spirit.

Then his Lordship led them to the grand saloon. It was the glory

of the castle, this great room of forty feet in width and sixty in

length. The ceiling supported upon either side by slender Corinthian

pillars, was panelled and exquisitely frescoed with nude female

figures that were reflected in the highly polished floor of marquetry

woods. The walls were covered with old tapestries and rare pictures.

There were two immense windows; the one at the south end of the room

was quite twenty feet square of Egyptian style. The one to the north

reached from floor to ceiling and from side to side. It was draped by

a single ruby-coloured velvet curtain that was so artistically caught

by rope-like cords of silk that, by a draw, could be lifted upward

and to either side in luxurious folds, exposing the entire window. At

present the great saloon was lighted by seven immense lustres of fifty

candles each, and with twenty sconces each bearing fifteen candles.

The effulgent gleam cast from these myriad flames upon polished woods,

busts, statues, unique bric-a-brac, gildings, glass and ruby velvet

produced the perfection of old-time splendour. And now, as the gallant

beaux led in fair maidens, it gave the picture life. The great

north window disclosed the ice-bound trees in all their primitive

ruggedness. The snow and sleet were vigorously driven by the wind that

howled continuously. The light from the forked-tree cast through

the window rays that resembled moonlight, as they mingled with the

radiance within, while outside it twinkled with the sprightliness of

old-fashioned humour.

Cedric of Crandlemar was noted among beaux old and young of his

intimate acquaintance for the spicy diversions with which he

entertained his friends, when they were so fortunate as to be present

at his stag parties. Arriving home after a long absence, he opened

his castle upon St. Valentine's eve with a ball, wherein his guests

appeared in full court costume, in honour of the Royal guests. The

weeks following had been filled with stately entertainment; and now

his Royal and formal guests had departed, and the throng that passed

into the great saloon were youths and maidens of neighbouring

counties; some college friends and kinsmen. They entered with gay

abandon. The beaux were whetted to great curiosity, for 'twas

whispered among them that after a short evening with the ladies, there

were to appear a bevy of London-town dancing girls, who would give

them a highly flavoured entertainment; and, as if Bacchus had

prematurely begun to disport himself in brain and leg of each beau, he

set about to ogle and sigh and wish and--pull a stray curl upon some

maiden's forehead or touch her glowing cheek with cold fingers, and

some began to illustrate the _modus operandi_ of taking certain game,

while another danced a clog or contra-dance or Sir Roger de Coverley.

The maidens caught the spirit and answered back glance for glance, and

being equipped for conquest let go the full battery of their woman's

witchery. It made a charming spectacle of young and noble blood

indulging in the abandon of the hour. There were dames that set the

pace for modest maidenhood, that ogled with the younger beaux,--(as

they do to this day). Lady Bettie Payne swept her fingers over the

keys of an Italian spinet, that was ornamented with precious stones,

and sat upon a table of coral-veined wood; she sung soft and tenderly

of the amours of Corydon, and neither her voice nor the low tinkling

of the spinet reached to the further end of the room where Adrian

Cantemir played upon the grand harpsichord a dashing piece that was

intended to charm at least, the beauteous Katherine, who stood near.

Lord Cedric leant over and begged the Russian count to change the tune

to a gavotte. He did so, and Cedric brought forth Katherine and placed

her fair to watch his step till she might catch the changes. Thus he

trained her carefully and with precision, and when Cantemir saw the

trap that held him where he was and gave Lord Cedric the upper-hand,

he fell into the spleen and played out of time, and Cedric flung

around and caught his spur in Dame Seymour's petticoats, and he swore

beneath his breath, and Katherine smiled at his discomfiture and her

own untutored grace, and she made bold and took a step or two on her

own dependence. Then there chimed eight from the old French clock of

black boule that sat upon a cabinet of tortoise-shell, and it stirred

the swains to think of donning 'broidered waist-coats and high-heeled

shoon preparatory to the prandial hour, when fresh game and old wine

would strengthen stomach and head; and they bowed low over tapering

fingers and cast a parting dart at female hearts, and climbed the

great oaken stairway to don their fine beaux' dress.

'Twas eleven o' the clock when the gay company again entered the

saloon; gentlemen in fresh curled periwigs and marvels of laces and

'broiderings. They were gay with post-prandium cheer and flushed with

wine.

Lord Cedric clapped his hands and immediately from some curtained

passage or gallery there was music; each instrument seeming to lead

in contrapuntal skill. His Lordship led forth Katherine and others

followed in the movement of the passacaille. Mistress Penwick was

beneath a great lustre that shone down and set her shoulder knot

ablaze with brilliancy, when Lady Constance passed and noted it.

She bit her lip from sheer pain, for 'twas Cedric's mother's prized

brooch, and through her heart fell a thunderbolt of fear; for now she

knew he would not allow a baggage to wear a thing so valued by the

mother whose memory he so loved. She began to fear this beauteous

thing could not be ousted so easily from her kinsman's castle; and her

heart rebelled at thought of losing him for spouse. She raged within,

reproaching herself for not hastening in woman's way his avowal; then

she trembled and grew sick at heart, as she saw his glances that were

so full of love; glances for which she would give the world to win.

She, on a sudden, was famishing for this love she had heretofore held

aloof from and yet would rather die than loose, aye, die a thousand

deaths. In her heart she vowed vengeance on that 'twould come between

them, and the thought strengthened her for battle, and when again she

saw Cedric's eyes gazing with ardent desire upon Katherine, it was

with comparative calmness. There appeared also a strange thing to her,

that this beauty did not appear to notice Cedric--that is, with the

notice due so handsome, rich and titled beau. There was not another

in the room with so elegant and fine shape; of so great vigour and

strength; none that could be so shaken and yet tender with passion;

none that could so command with a look; none that had such pure, noble

blood. And strange to say, for the first time she saw his weaker side;

she saw he was both jealous and selfish; she could find a thousand

matters pertaining to his lands and estates that she could find fault

with. He was exacting and heartless with his tenants; not providing

for their welfare as he should, being so great a lord. He hardly

allowed them religious privileges. The church was attached to the

castle by a passage leading from the landing of the stairway in the

library, and he had complained that the singing and preaching annoyed

him, and had frequently closed the chapel for this cause, and yet

a woman that held sway over such a man's heart could mould him to

anything. Why, why had she not married him ere this? She would set

about it at once and bring all these matters concerning his estates

to his notice; 'twould look so noble; 'twas time the castle had a

mistress, and who would better grace it than the fair Lady Constance

of Cleed Hall? And in Adrian Cantemir she had an ally, for he was

madly and desperately in love with Lord Cedric's ward. "I should like

her for cousin; she would make Adrian a fine wife, indeed I think I

should become quite proud of her," said Constance, as if the matter

was already quite settled.

After dancing the stately gavotte, it appeared that the whole company

became heavy and wished for retirement; it might have been a ruse on

the part of beaux, and the fair ones fell into the trap; be it as it

may, the ladies retired. Janet had been waiting at the top of the

stairs for her mistress; but her smile of welcome turned to one of

disgust as she saw her appear with Lady Constance' arm about her.

"Thou art commencing early, Lady Judas; I have not preened my eyes

for nothing, and this I well know, thou art hot in pursuit of my Lord

Cedric, and thou shalt not have him. 'Tis Mistress Penwick that will

queen it here and make a noble consort for his Lordship," said Janet.

"May I come in a minute? Thou hast learnt I am Cedric's cousin, and I

feel as though I must know thee at once for his sake."

"Aye, thou art most welcome, Lady Constance," replied Katharine.

And they sat over the fire laughing and chatting. Katherine was all

excitement and full of clatter, for 'twas her first "company," and she

was a young lady and could now boast of tender looks and words from

beaux. And her volubleness led her to tell of her convent life, of her

sudden surprise and pleasure of coming to England; and on and on; and

blushing, she thought with Constance that Adrian Cantemir was indeed

very charming, and having become better acquainted with him, she felt

sure she admired him quite as much, or more than, any one else; and

she was so fond of music he fairly entranced her when he played.

"To-morrow he is to teach me battledore and shuttlecock in the

library."

"'Tis great sport and a game that requires some skill," said

Constance. And thus they talked for one good hour, and in the

adjoining room Janet fumed and fretted; for 'twas far past her child's

bedtime.

"Such late hours are not conducive to youthful roundness and a clear

colour," she grumbled. Constance yawned and declared she must retire;

but she was thirsty and must have a drink, and yet she supposed she

must do without, for all the maids and lackeys were abed.

"But the more I think of it, the more I want it. I will get it

myself."

"And I will accompany thee, for I would like not to go alone in so

great a house, when there is no one astir," said Katherine.

They started forth adown the stairs; and following silent, noiseless

like a wraith was Janet, expectant, eager; for she felt she was to

see the opening of a great battle. Constance led the way, carrying a

taper. As they traversed some passage, their ears caught the sound of

music. They listened a moment, then Constance proposed they snuff the

candle and draw near the sound; "for very like the beaux were having

an orgy," she said. And Katherine, full of adventure and deeming it a

fine, young lady's trick--she had heard talk of such things among the

older girls at the convent--opined "'twas the thing to do." And

they followed the passage until an arched and curtained doorway but

screened them from that 'twas within the grand saloon, and Constance

made bold to draw aside a finger-breadth of the sweeping curtain and

peep within.

"Ah! ah! 'tis a beauteous sight!" and she turned from what she saw

and drew the curtain to a generous opening; and the two with heads

together looked through.

Every candle had been snuffed and through the great north window came

the rays from the light in the forked tree that fell like moonlight

athwart the saloon. In the centre of the broad gleam was a sylph-like

form, keeping time to the music in a sort of phantom style of

movement; twisting, shimmering folds that appeared to effuse a

scintillation of opal shades. 'Twas the chaconne; slow, graceful and

full of romance, the full major lifting and seeming to float, at last

dying imperceptibly into the minor passacaille. About were seated,

carelessly and after the manner of men who had pulled at the bottle

for hours in the hunting field and were now somewhat overcome by

warmth and _ennui_, beaux old and young, 'suaging their appetite of

mouth and eye by wine and women.

"'Tis the King sets the pace!" said one, close to the curtain.

"Egad!" said another. "He not only sets it, but carries it along. He

has fine wenches at his beck and call." 'Twas evident 'twas but the

beginning of revelry; a sort of bacchanalian prelude to what might

come later. No sooner was this dance finished than another began.

Some lithe creature came forth to dance, in bright scarlet, the

passacaglia. The glasses were refilled and the noise became more

boisterous; and the scandal more flagrant. The candles were set aglow

again and tables were brought for those wishing to gamble. And one

richly dressed and full of wine sprung upon a table and held aloft a

glass and called forth:

"Here, here is to his Lordship of Crandlemar and to a long life of

free and easy celibacy." Now 'twas said Lord Cedric could drink more

without becoming undignified than any other man of his company, but it

seemed he gave himself to the spirit of the moment and had drunk deep.

When the young blood upon the table offered the toast, Cedric sprung

as if shot to the table, where he staggered and would have fallen, had

it not been for the youth who bore him up. Holtcolm, in his drunken

anxiety for his neighbour's steadiness, stood near him and with

tender, maudlin solicitude began to flick the grains of bergamot

scented snuff from the lace of Lord Cedric's steenkirk. At the same

time from the glass he held there spilled on his Lordship's brocaded

coat of blue and silver a good half-pint of wine. Cedric upon being

balanced had forgotten what he wanted to say, and turned to his

supporter.

"What was it Holt-colm--I was goin' to shay?" Neither could remember,

so his Lordship continued with what seemed to weigh upon his mind:

"'Tis thish: 'tis my deshire thish should be made a memorable--a night

worthy of remembrance. I'm about to espoushe my fair ward--and this is

positively my lasht appearance _en bout_--I know and am fully aware

_abondance de bien ne nuit_ until a better comes. To-night will be my

finale de-bauch--sho; tell the red beauty to come here." He sat down

upon the table and gazed with heavy, drooping lids upon the dancing

girl that came toward him. "Thou art a saucy baggage; but--hic--thou

art false of colour and--hic--flesh. Thy lips and cheeks are stained

with rouge--hic--and thy flesh--is--hic--pushed to prominence by high

stays--by God, it turns my stomach to--nausea." And he turned over and

lay flat upon the table. "Bring on another--shay--we must have the

moonlight beauty again." Katherine was well frightened and made

several efforts to persuade her companion to go away. It was part of

Constance' programme to cause Katherine's disgust at sight of Cedric's

wantonness. She felt it had been accomplished, and as there were other

matters to be about, she turned with her and together they groped back

up the stairs in the darkness, and found Janet feigning sleep in a

chair before the fire, Constance yawned and declared herself to be

tired out, and bade Katherine _adieu_. Janet closed the door after her

and in haste began putting her mistress to bed. And after giving her a

bath and rubbing, she snuffed the candles and went to her own room to

slip out again and go below stairs and find the curtained doorway,

there to watch and wait for that which was to come. She had seen as

much as Constance and Katherine, and she determined to see even more.

She would know how Lord Cedric appeared in his cups. There was nothing

anomalous in what was before her; 'twas as she had often seen in the

grand house in which she had served as maid; the same licentiousness,

wild riot and debaucheries that have been since the world stood. She

saw 'twas Cedric that drank as deep as any, and could rip out oaths

as trippingly as his swollen tongue would allow; but he was neither

vulgar nor lewd. Janet looked with pride at his clear flushed face,

so handsomely featured; his jewelled hands and fine round legs that

tapered to slender ankles. 'Twould be a fine pair when he espoused her

mistress, and she would help him to it as soon as he liked. Her heart

went out to him the more when she saw he cared not for the favours

offered him by the dancing wenches as they touched his flowing black

curls with caressing hands. He turned upon his stomach on the table

and hid his face in his hands and remained thus until the candles were

again snuffed and a maid came out into the improvised moonlight in

gipsy dress and a fortune-teller's cup and wand. She wore a masque and

veil tight wrapped about her head. She danced with less skill than

any that had come before. She lisped forth 'twas her trade to tell

fortunes, and thereupon a fop reached forth and pulled her to him, and

she began a startling story that had somewhat of truth in it; and to

each one her assertions or predictions had so much of truth in them it

provoked interest among them all. Lord Cedric called from the table:

"The wench tells ear-splitting truths; send her here, she shall give

my pasht, present--and future." If they had not been so blinded by

wine, they might have noticed her haste to go to his bidding. She

looked closely at his hand and the sediment of his wine-cup.

"Thou art madly and blindly in love!" said she, lispingly.

"Good! good!" was sent forth from those about; and Cedric struck his

fist upon the table,--

"'Madly'--yes; but by God not 'blindly'! haste on, wench."

"She loves admiration--"

"She would not be half a woman if she--"

"She is in love with one of Russian birth," went on the gipsy. Cedric

frowned and held quiet. "There is one who hast loved thee from early

childhood--a--a kinswoman--she would make thee a noble spouse and love

thee well with a warm nature to match thine own."

"Thou tellest false, for I know not such an one. I have loved many

kinswomen since childhood, and they have loved me, but not to

espousal!"

"'Tis here--her name--'tis--C-o-n-s--"

"Constance, by God! but there thy lisping tongue prattles ill, for she

loves me as a brother, and I love her as if she were my sister." Now

the gipsy drew back as if the man before her had stricken her, then

hastened to cover her emotion with a sudden look into the cup and an

exclamation of--

"Ah! ah!"

"What seest thou?" said Cedric.

"A thing that means more to thee than aught else; 'tis an awful thing

if thou shouldst choose wrong!"

"Haste, wench, what is it?" Cedric was growing impatient.

"Thy kinswoman will bring thee a fine heir--"

"By God, the other will bring me a dozen then!"

"Nay, 'tis not so, she--" She stepped close to his ear and whispered.

"Thousand devils, thou infernal, lying pot-house brawler--" and Cedric

glared fiercely upon her and bent forward, his hand falling upon his

sword-hilt; then he grew red at his hot action, and looked about to

see if 'twas noticed. "Get thee gone, thou saucy, lisping minx." The

poor thing was well-nigh distraught with fear of this man whose anger

came like a thunderbolt, and she fell heavy upon the lackey who

conducted her forth. She slipped through the corridors like a fast

fleeting shadow, and Janet followed her close and saw her enter a

certain chamber apart where she was met by one of the dancers; and

'twas Lady Constance that threw from her the gipsy attire and put a

bag of gold in the celebrated Babbet's waiting fingers; and with a

warning pressure of finger-on-lip, she came forth and fled to her own

grand apartments, and Janet watched until the latch clicked upon this

great mistress of beauty, title, wealth and virtue.

CHAPTER VI

JANET'S PHILOSOPHY

"This world of ours hangs midway 'twixt zenith and nadir: the superior

and inferior: the positive and negative; and 'tis a pertinent thought

that susceptible human nature takes on the characteristic of the one

or the other. One is away up in zenithdom or away down in nadirdom,

one is not content to go along the halfway place and see the good that

lies ever before them. But, again, there are natures that are not

susceptible to extremes; as a simile: a maid whose soul is ever

vibrant with the ineffable joys of the world to come, walks by the

seashore and mayhap beholds the full moon rise from the water and cast

to her very feet a pathway of gold, and she will quickly join herself

to those who see like visions, and pathway will lie against pathway

and produce a sea of gold; on the other hand, if she be a foolish

virgin and looks not before her, but tosses high head in pride or

walks with downcast eyes and smiles and blushes and smirks and flings

aside thoughts of deity, until she becomes submerged; on a sudden

Gabriel will blow and the world will cease revolving, and then--where

wilt thou be, oh, maid that hath fluttered from sweet to sweet and

forgotten thy prayers?" There came a great happy sigh from the

testered bed--

"Thou hast powerful breath, Janet, and 'twas an immense bitterwort

bush thou were beating about. I am sorry I forgot my prayers. I will

say them twenty times to-day, to make up."

"And it's the heathen that repeateth a prayer oft; thou hadst better

say 'God, have mercy upon my untowardness!' once, from thy heart, than

to say thy rosary from now until doom with thy mind upon a bumptious

Russian."

"What is the day, Janet?"

"'Tis as bleak and stormy as one could wish."

"What is the hour?"

"Eleven."

"Eleven? and I was to meet Count Adrian at this very hour. He is to

teach me battledore and shuttlecock."

"'Tis a fussy game, played more with the heart than hand; canst give

it up; let me rub thee to sleep again?"

"Nay, for I would not disappoint him or--myself."

An hour later she stood opposite the count in the great library,

swinging the battledore with grace. There was much soft laughter and

gay repartee; and Adrian followed the movements of Katherine's lithe

form, clad in the soft, clinging grey of the convent. She became

remiss; for Adrian's glances were confusing, and intentional laches

were made by him, that he might come near her, almost touching her

hair in bending to recover the ball. She was flushed and eager,

triumphant of a fine return, when the door flew open and in came a

number of gallants, among whom was Lord Cedric. His face flushed a

warm red and he shot a glance of jealousy at Adrian as he bent low

over Katherine's hand. After a few commonplace remarks, they passed on

up the stairway to the broad landing, on which was an arched door that

led to the passage opening into the organ loft of the chapel. In a few

moments there came the sound of the organ. Katherine swung low her

battledore and breathed forth:

"Let us listen; 'tis sweet, who plays, dost know?"

"'Tis St. Mar, a fine fellow; a soldier, duelist and gallant."

"'Thou dost flank duelist by two words that should scorn being so

separated!'"

"'Twas a happy wording; for if thou shouldst meet him, thou wilt

fall but two-thirds in love, whereas, if otherwise worded 'twould be

altogether."

"Thou art giving my heart an evil reputation; for after all 'tis not

so easy won."

"'Tis true, as I know, more than any one else, for my heart misgave

me from the moment I first set eyes on thy beauteous countenance; and

since I have been in wild despair, not knowing if thou hast a heart

for any save thy nurse and my Lord Cedric; for 'tis to them thy heart

seems bent." There was neither shadow nor movement of fair expression

on Mistress Penwick's face, as she answered calmly,--

"Thou sayest well. I love my nurse--she has been mother too, and I

honour Lord Cedric as a good man should be honoured, and one whom my

father chose to be his daughter's guardian and holder in trust of her

estates."

"Estates"--'twas a grand word and went straight to Cantemir's heart;

for 'twas something to espouse so beautiful a maiden that had demesne

as well.

Katherine was listening to the chords of the organ, and she bent

forward eagerly. Her thoughts flew back to the convent where she had

enjoyed a pure religious life undisturbed by the trammels of the great

outer world.

"Let us go," said she, "I would see who 'tis that plays!"

She led the way up the broad stairs and through the passage into the

organ loft, and at first sight of her Cedric was well-nigh beside

himself with delight; for he took it, she had come to be with him.

There was a young fop at the organ in rich and modish attire, but

otherwise of unattractive and common appearance.

Katherine cast upon him her entire attention, and there came that

in her face that drew the glance of every eye. 'Twas as if she was

entranced with the player, as well as the sounds he brought forth from

the organ. Cedric be-thought him 'twas an unfortunate oversight to

have learnt not to thrum upon some sort of thing wherewith to draw the

attention if not admiration of such a maid as this. And he straightway

made avowal to send at once for tutor and instrument; a violin, when

played as he might learn to, would perhaps be as successful in its

lodestone requirements as any other thrumming machine. "'Twas an

instrument could be handled to such an effect. A man could so well

show white, jewelled fingers; display a rare steenkirk to pillow it

upon; and withal, a man could stand free and sway his body gracefully

this way and that; yes, 'tis the thing to do; she may yet look at me

as she now looks at St. Mar!" so thought Cedric. The piece was soft

and gentle, with a pathetic motif running through it. Katherine became

so rapt she drew closer and closer, until at last she stood beside St.

Mar. He became confused and halted, and finally left off altogether

and turned to read the admiration in the azure blue of her eyes.

"Thou art from France, and dost thou know many of the great

musicians?"

"Aye, a great many--"

"Hast thou met the great Alessandro Scarlatti? I understand he created

a _furore_ as he passed through Paris from London."

"'Tis true, and I was most fortunate to hear him play portions of

'_L'Onesta nell Amore._' Queen Christina herself accompanied him to

Paris, and wherever he played she was not far away."

"We used much of his sacred music at the convent; 'tis such warm,

tender and sympathetic harmony. He must be a very great man!"

"He hath a son, Domenico, not two years old, who already shows a great

ear for his father's music; and they say he will even be a greater

musician than his father. It is possible Alessandro will visit

London."

"'Twould be wondrous fine! I will go and hear him play, surely

"--Cedric interrupted their musical converse,--

"'Tis cold for thee, I fear, in this damp place; I beg thee to allow

me to lead thee to the library." And without further words he led her

away, through the library and on beyond to the saloon, where he begged

her to favour him with songs he was quite sure she could sing, naming

those he most wished to hear.

Then in came Lady Bettie Payne with three or four others, and they

babbled and chattered, and as Lord Cedric stood near he heard them

speak of Lady Constance' indisposition.

"Ah, poor Constance, I was not aware she was ill!" said he, and he

went forth to inquire of her condition and find if aught could be done

for her enlivenment to health and spirits. When he returned and

saw Katherine so surrounded, and his guests engaged at cards and

battledore and music, and some in converse as to whether they should

ride forth to the chase, he was somehow stirred to think of Constance

lying alone in her chamber; and there recurred to him the tale of the

night before; 'twas she that loved him. He felt sorry for her if such

a thing were true; but 'twas not possible, and to convince himself he

would go to her and give her the brotherly kiss as heretofore, and

take notice if there was aught in her manner to denote verification of

the miserable gipsy's story. He would put an end to such feeling, if

'twere there. He sent word if he might see her for himself, and be

assured her illness was not feigned, in order she might shirk the

duty--like a wicked sister--of presenting her fair face for the

enlightenment of the gloom that seemed about to penetrate, from

without, the castle walls.

Constance lay propped amongst pillows, in a gorgeous _peignoir_ of

lace, arranged for the moment to display advantageously her plump arms

and a slender white neck encircled with pearls. Her brow was high and

narrow; her dark hair was carefully arranged in wavy folds upon

the pillow; her eyes, under drooping lids, glittered coldly and

imperiously. The nose was straight, and too thin for beauty. Her lips,

touched with rouge, were also thin and full of arrogance. There she

lay, impatient for the love of this one man, who was e'en now at the

door.

When Constance was a baby, she had watched Cedric upon his nurse's

knee taking his pap, and a little later amused him with her dolls. She

had played with him at bat and ball; had ridden astride behind him

upon a frisking pony; had learned and used the same oaths when none

were by to note her language but grooms and stable-boys--always when

Angel, the head nurse, was not about. She would outswear the young lad

and then tease him because he could not find words to equal hers.

They had played at "Lord and Lady," and rode about the terraces in

a miniature sedan chair, and cooks and scullions winked and nodded,

wisely and predictively. And when they came to man's and woman's

estate, Cedric's regard for her was as a brother's; but hers for

him, alas! was deep love. It seemed to her as if the world was just

beginning; a bright, glorious world full of untold wealth of love,

when she thought perhaps she might yet win him for her own; and indeed

she thought, as already possessing him. On his part there was

being born in his heart a great joy: that of a new and first love.

Heretofore he and Constance had known all things in common, and now

suddenly he was satiate of her. But Katherine, he had thought, was

so young and bright and beautiful; a child that had lived within the

cloister and had grown to maidenhood in sweet innocence. 'Twas like

finding in some tropic clime, embowered and shaded by thick, waxy

leaves, a glorious, ripe pomegranate, which he would grasp and drink

from its rich, red pulp, a portion that would cool and 'suage a

burning thirst; while Constance, by the side of Katherine, was like a

russet apple, into whose heart the worm of worldly knowledge had eaten

its surfeit and taken all sweetness away, and the poor thing hung low,

all dried and spiritless upon a broken bough to the convenience of any

passing hand. "Nay, nay; give me only the rich, ripe pomegranate; my

Katherine, Kate! Kate!" and blinded thus by the fever of desire to

possess only his sweet Kate, he swung wide the door of Constance's

room and passed to the bedside and leant over and kissed her.

She flushed red as she met his eyes--now cold and

unimpassioned--looking into the very depths of her own. He saw the

sudden scarlet that mantled her face, and knew--knew she loved him.

And his heart went out to her, for he was attached to the russet

thing, an attachment heretofore unnamed, but now--now suddenly

christened with that parsimonious appellation--pity; the object

of which is never satisfied. But he had naught else to give, for

Katherine had suddenly impoverished him.

"'Tis generous of thee, Cedric, to break from thy gay company; what

are they engaged in?"

"Various,--some at cards, others at music--"

"And what was thy pastime that thou couldst sever thyself so

agreeably?"

"I was listening to Bettie, and she on a sudden remarked of thy

indisposition. I straightway came to note thy ailing. I have talked

not with thee in private since thy arrival, and there is much news.

Hast seen her, Constance, to talk with her?"

"Whom meanest thou? There are many 'hers' in the house!"

"The beauty that flew to me over seas, of course; whom else could I

mean?"

"Oh! oh! to be sure; the maid from Quebec. Aye, I talked with her

some. Thou sayest she is Sir John Penwick's daughter?"

"Aye, and she's a glorious beauty, eh, Constance?"

"But how camest thou by her?"

Cedric reached to that nearest his heart and drew forth Sir John's

letter and gave it opened into Constance's hand. She read it with

blazing eyes and great eagerness; for 'twas a bundle of weapons she

was examining and would take therefrom her choice. She flashed forth

queries as to the probability of this or that with a semblance of

interest that disarmed Cedric and made him wonder if this woman

loved to such an extent, she could fling aside her own interests

and submerge all jealousy, all self-love into the purest of all

sacrifices, abnegation?

"What! no estates? That looks ill, for at one time Sir John was

affluent, for Aunt Hettie has told me of him many a time."

"But he lost it all, as I've heard ofttime from father; he has spoken

not infrequent of Sir John's high living; he had great demesne, a

great heart and great temper; and 'tis the last named that has fallen

clear and uncumbered to his daughter; and the heart will be found by

careful probing, no doubt; and the demesne she will have when she

condescends to take me as spouse."

"Thou, thou espouse her?" and Constance feigned surprise, as if 'twere

a new thing to her, when in reality she had suffered agony from its

repetition.

"Aye, and why not, pray? Am I not of ripe years and know my mind?"

"And why so?--because thou shouldst wed one of high degree and fortune

and worldly wisdom."

"Nay, thou art wrong. 'Tis enough that she is of noble blood from

father and mother; and I have fortune for us both; and worldly

wisdom--bah! Constance, dost thou expect her to know all the intrigues

of court, when she is but lightly past fifteen?"

"Fifteen?--Now by heaven, Cedric, thou wouldst not lie to me?"

"Nay, Con, I would not--I have no object in this case, 'tis a truth."

"Fifteen, and indeed she is well-formed for such youth!"

"And what a beautiful and innocent face she has, too?"

"Beauteous, admitted; but innocent of what?"

"Innocent of all we know; she knows naught of this great world. Janet

keeps all evil from her. We cannot conceive of such innocence in any

one. The child has eaten the simplest things all her life; milk and

gruel and beef-whey; 'tis no great wonder she is so pink and strong;

Janet says in hand-to-hand battle in their convent chamber, the child

hath thrown her oft in fair wit of strength;--such rough sport was not

indulged in openly and Janet taught her thrusts and flings to broaden

her chest and strengthen hip and back; she is stout and strong, and

yet she makes one think of a beautiful flower until she falls in

anger; then she shows a stout temper as well, and is wilful to all

save Janet, who governs her by some strange method I ne'er saw before;

for 'tis odd to see servant lead mistress. But, 'twas an awful thing

happened me; I knew not, or had forgotten rather, the arrival of the

babe Sir John speaks of. As thou knowest, I came home unexpectedly,

and I found the letter here. It had arrived some time before, and

I read it hastily, told Wasson my duty and passed the letter to a

convenient pocket, and thence until the night of the _masque_ forgot

all about the arrival of the infant. I was masqued, mad and raving at

Christopher for not mending my bag-pipe, and I rushed swearing after

him and Mistress Penwick heard my oaths, my broad Scotch ones thou

knowest I love to use when in anger. She hates me for it, and I can

do naught to win the confidence due me as her rightful guardian. So I

have settled upon an immediate espousal--"

"Immediate? Thou marry a child,--'tis unseemly--"

"Nay, 'tis not unseemly; 'tis the most proper thing to do. Janet

says so, too, and will urge her to accept me as soon as I wish to

wed--which shall be at the earliest moment."

"Janet, indeed! What right has a servant to forward the doings of

master and mistress? Thou hadst best wait and have her Grace of

Ellswold present her at Court and give the child at least one season

in London to improve her convent ways."

"Nay, Constance, if she were to grow one whit more beautiful, 'twould

kill me dead."

"I am afraid thou art easily slain; indeed, I never knew beauty was so

murderous before. Thou art surely beside thyself; she here alone in

this great castle without a mother's love to guide! No one to whom she

can tell her troubles! How must the poor child feel to be forced into

a marriage she most like--hates;"--and her ladyship's voice took

on such a tone of pity one would think she was about to break into

tears,--"'tis a barbarous act for thee to talk of marriage so soon to

a helpless being."

"There is nothing helpless about Kate, she can take her own part. She

hath wit and temper for a half dozen."

"But thou wilt acknowledge if she will have _her_ way she must leave

the castle; for thou art bent upon _thy_ way--thou wilt not listen to

reason; so, see to it, and wed her straightway if--if thou canst." He

was about to answer her with an oath, when suddenly Katherine stood in

the half-open door smiling over the top of a great bunch of roses.

On Constance' face was a look of triumph, as she noted Cedric's

confusion; but Katherine's words put Cedric at ease.

"I was told thou wert ill and that Lord Cedric was uneasy and had come

to thee; and I reproached myself for not coming earlier to see if thou

wert in need of aught." She placed the vase of roses on a table close.

Constance thanked her and took the tapering fingers and hugged them

between her own. Katherine looked down upon her thin, arrogant lips;

and as there always comes to the innocent--when dealing with those of

other mould--a warning, a feeling of repulsion, took possession of her

and she withdrew her hand, and, in a moment, her presence.

"'Tis a vision of loveliness more refreshing than the nosegay she

brought, thinkest thou not so, Constance?"

"Thou dost see with lover's eyes. How soon wilt thou espouse her;

thy house is somewhat taken up by company, who are to remain for

the summer, and how wilt thou get through the irksomeness of grand

ceremonies without great preparation, for much will be expected of thy

wealth and rank?"

"Damme, I'll have no pranks and ceremonies and entertainments; I

have not time. I must wed her at once. Canst thou not see, under the

circumstances, scandal-mongers will make eyes and prate of wrong for

me thus to have a young maid here alone?" Now indeed this thought had

not occurred to Constance in just this way; but now it struck her with

a mighty force, and she shot at him a piercing glance through the

half-closed imperious eyes.

"I had thought of it, but determined mine should not be the first

breath to breathe forth scandal, even in private converse with thee;

'twas an awful thing for her to come here knowing of thy youth."

"But she did not know, as that letter and thou thyself can testify."

"But the world--the Court where thou wilt go to hold sway--they know

not the circumstances."

"Now, by God, Constance, one would think thou wert an alien to King

Charles' Court. If Charles knew I had here this maid and had not yet

taken her to wife--why--why, he would take her away himself and laugh

me to scorn for my slothfulness. But all London knows by now, as I

have sent a message to my solicitors."

"But if she be set upon not marrying thee. What wilt thou do?" Lord

Cedric hung his head, as if in profound meditation; then, without

raising it, but remaining in a hopeless attitude, said:

"I will guard her from all evil. I will stand between her and harm and

wait. And thou must help me, Constance. Wilt thou persuade her?"

"Have I not always taken thy part, even--when thou wert in the wrong?"

When Cedric left Lady Constance, he sought Janet and poured into her

willing ears his woes. He feared lest some gallant should win his

Kate's love, and Janet must tell him of some way to win it for

himself.

Janet now loved Lord Cedric as if he were already Katherine's lord;

and she, knowing 'twould be one of the best matches in all England,

vowed 'twas best for them to marry at once; beside, Kate, being wilful

and having a tendency for men of foreign birth, with nothing in their

favour but a small share of good looks and some musical ability, might

see fit to plant her affections with such, and 'twas plain mischance

would kill Cedric outright, for he was passionate to self-destruction;

so when he said: "'Twould be instant death to me, Janet. What wouldst

thou advise me to do--thou dost so fully understand her?" she answered

him:

"'Tis somewhat the way with maidens to sigh for that not easily

attained, and it might serve thee to put forth an indifferent air and

incline thy attentions toward another and act a mighty cold lord and

coddle not her desires."

"That would take so long a time; I cannot wait. I will speak to her

once more, then I will be cold and indifferent as thou sayest. When

shall I have an opportunity to speak with her?"

"How soon dost expect the chests with my lady's raiment, my lord?"

"On the morrow they should be here."

"'Tis then she will think of thy goodness, and I will put in a word

for thee, and perchance thou wilt come to see if all things came, and

'twill give thee opportunity to speak of other things. She is wanting

many things for the Chapel; she wishes to reopen it; and 'tis in

matters of religion thy hot tempers will clash, for Mistress Penwick

is a Roman Catholic, and thou art of the English Church."

"Thou art a wise Janet! I will turn the people, and they shall become

Catholics."

"Nay, if thou dost undertake it, thy people will rise in arms against

thee."

"So be it, let her have her way. I'll bother her not in her simple

ideas of religion."

"Not so simple, my lord. Thou hast not seen the teachings of nine

years take root and spread and grow as I have. Dost think she would

allow thy Chaplain to bind thee to her? Nay, she will be wed by none

but a priest. But she is kindly intentioned and feels sorry for thy

poor Chaplain, who hath so hard a time to keep his flock together.

I look any day for her to carry in a cross and hang it behind his

pulpit, then--then he will faint away from fright of her."

"Nay, Janet, he will fall down and worship it, and--her."

CHAPTER VII

THE BRANTLE

Mistress Penwick sat in her chamber, trying to calm herself to reason;

for the chest had come from London-town laden with splendid raiment;

all had been unpacked and examined, and 'twas enough to cure all

grievances, the very sight of such adornings; but her ladyship

was disappointed that there were no stays. Janet for the time was

distraught and said:

"I would that had been sent that would mend thy untowardness and bring

thy temper to a comelier mould. 'Tis past time for thee to clothe

thyself in that in which thy noble lord hath seen fit to purchase for

thee; I heard some moments since the arrival of the hunters and it's

time--" There was a sounding rap and 'twas his Lordship's lackey

begging the admittance of his master. Janet bade Lord Cedric enter. He

came forth in riding-coat and field boots and rattling spurs. Mistress

Penwick vouchsafed a nod of recognition and turned her eyes away. The

hot blood mounted Cedric's face and at a look at Janet understood all

was not well; he essayed to speak with coolness:

"Art not happy with the contents of thy chest, Kate?"

"'Tis more than one could expect, but--sadly it lacked that I wished

for most--a thing that marks one as lady and not child in grown-up

people's clothes."

"And what might that be, Kate?" for indeed he had forgotten about her

order that stays be sent.

"Simple, modest, commonplace stays, my lord," and she said it slowly

and with a mighty air.

"Nay, nay--stays they did forget?" and he stamped his foot in seeming

wrath and broke forth:--"I'll thrash that damned lackey blue for

so forgetting!" and he turned as if to quit the room, but Mistress

Penwick ran to stay his hurry.

"Nay, thou wilt not hurt him, 'twas not his fault, 'twas not by his

hand the order was writ." And Cedric feigned further show of temper,

and Katherine's tapering fingers ventured upon either lapel of his

lordship's velvet coat, and he turned red and white and could hardly

contain himself with delight. Janet, fearing a confusion of her

master's words, put forth her arms and drew away Katherine's hands and

said, softly:

"His Lordship will not thrash the lad, if thou wilt don thy most

beautiful frock and forget the stays."

"That will I, if 'tis his desire; and--" she looked up into his

Lordship's face with a look that was almost tender--"thou wilt say no

word to the boy?" His voice was soft and pleading as he answered:

"Anything thou wouldst ask of me thus, thou couldst have it without

the asking."

"Then, my lord, when there is aught I would have, I may take it

without thy spoken yea?"

"Nay, not so; that would be highway robbery; for thou wouldst take

from me the dearest thing that has yet happened to me; 'tis thy sweet

pleading for that 'tis already thine."

"'Tis a generous thing for thee to say, but if I might have perfect

freedom to do all things as I desire--"

"And what are the 'all things' that thou wouldst desire?"

"I should like to have many changes made in the Chapel, and bring one

who is well able to play on the great organ. And 'twould be a wondrous

good thing to bring from the village of Crandlemar youths for the

training of a choir, such as I have heard are of much repute among the

poor lads for strength and sweetness of voice; and after all things

are made ready, have the Chapel opened again with pomp of priest and

solemn ceremony."

"If such are thy desires, I will put forward the work at once." Now

indeed Katherine forgot the sad lack of stays and for the moment

forgot all else save that the handsome Cedric stood before her flushed

and eager to gratify her every whim. He, one of the richest noblemen

in Great Britain, whom she could have for a look; the stretching out

of the hand. And she quite well knew that he was ready at the first

opportunity to renew the subject of marriage, and for this very thing

she turned from him thinking that some time she would consider his

proposal. So again he went from her presence with a throbbing in his

breast that was half-hope, half-despair and knew not what to do.

'Twas the last ball at Crandlemar Castle, for the hunting season was

over. A goodly company gathered from neighbouring shires, and Mistress

Pen wick was the mark of all eyes in a sweeping robe of fawn that

shimmered somewhat of its brocadings of blue and pink and broiderings

of silver. She had decorously plaited a flounce of old and rare lace

and brought it close about her shoulders and twined her mother's

string of pearls about her white throat, the longer strands reaching

below her waistband and caught low again upon the shoulder with a knot

of fresh spring violets. Cedric stood apart with his kinsman, his

Grace of Ellswold, who enjoyed the freedom of speech of all Charles'

Court; indeed it appeared that not only looseness of tongue but morals

also held sway in the most remote as well as the best known portions

of the kingdom. And at his Grace's first sight of Katherine he uttered

an oath and some other expression that savoured of common hackney; for

Cedric had been telling him of the soothsayer's words.

"The soothsayer spoke false and I'll wager thee the East Forest thou

hast coveted against thy Welsh demesne. I tell thee, Cedric, a jewel

hast thou found. Never have I seen her equal. And that is John

Penwick's daughter!" and he took a great pinch of snuff and looked

at Cedric. "She will make thee a fine wife,--but who is the man that

dangles after her now? Indeed, I would say thou hadst better watch out

for him. I do not like the look in his eyes; he is--"

"Egad, uncle! I would as soon think of being jealous of--of thee. He

is Constance' cousin from Russia, and as she is staying here for some

time, at her request I asked him also. Bah! I could never imagine him

as a rival!"

"Well, so be it; but how about the wager of the East Forest?"

"Thou art on the winning side. So thou couldst not wager without an

opponent, and 'twill be futile to find one, lest thou dost charge upon

some landless bumpkin."

"And how soon wilt thou espouse her?"

"At the first moment of her consent--"

"Consent 'tis thou art waiting for? Thou hadst better keep her close;

for if his Majesty gains inkling of such fresh, young beauty and finds

her out of bans, 'twill go hard with thee to sword thy way to a lady

in waiting or--perhaps----"

"'Sdeath, by God! I had not thought of that! 'Twould be too bold

and out of place, she being under my guardianship, to press her to

espousal without fair consent;--but I know best; 'twould be for her

own safety, is it not so, uncle?"

"If she knows naught of the frailties of all mankind and the Court in

particular, I should say as thou art her rightful guardian and the

suitor chosen of her father, and 'twas thy wish for her immediate

espousal, 'twould best serve thee to use all manner of means to gain

her consent, and if this prove abortive, I would abduct the maid and

have thy Chaplain ready to marry thee to her; and after he pronounces

thee man and wife, what can she do but love thee straightway for thy

strong handling; 'tis the way of women. I would marry such a beauty in

haste, ere another takes the vantage."

Lord Cedric chose Mistress Penwick for the brantle and led her forth.

They moved with such majestic grace, they attracted all eyes. It

seemed Cedric could not contain himself for love of Kate, and he vowed

to gain her ear this very night and know for a certainty if she would

ever marry with him.

It pleased Mistress Penwick to dance with Cedric, for she was more at

ease with him than any other, and she was hardly pleased when he bade

her rest and took her to another room, where they were quite alone.

But she would not sit down, and stood fanning and smiling up into his

face, saying half pettishly:

"Thou art soon tired; the brantle has just begun."

"Kate, hast thou patience?"

"Aye, but 'tis of dwarfish mould."

"Kate, dost love any human being?"

"Aye, 'tis a poor thing that loves not."

"Dost love me, Kate?"

"As a father or brother and as one should love her father's best

friend."

"Then--give me a--kiss as thou wouldst give thy brother." The hot

blood suffused her face. At sight of it, Cedric's heart leapt with a

mighty gladness.

"Not having had a brother, I know not how to give that thou

askest;--and 'tis unseemly of thee to ask for that that makes one

blush for very shame to be questioned of."

"Blushes are not always for shame--'tis for love, sometimes. Kate,

'tis time I knew thy heart, for thou knowest I am about to die for

love of thee. Dost not understand that thy father wished thee to marry

at an early age and to marry the son of his bosom friend to whom he

gave his daughter's keeping?"

"Nay, he said naught of my marriage with thee, as he knew not thou

wert in existence."

"Aye, of a truth he hath done so; it is here next my heart," and he

drew forth Sir John's letter. "Wilt read but the lines I show thee;

for there are secrets belonging to thy father and me alone?" He marked

the lines with his jewelled finger, his love locks falling against her

cheek as she read: "My last wish and the one of greatest import to my

child is that thou find for her a spouse of rank and fortune. 'Tis my

desire she marry early to such an one.--Ah! Cedric, if thou had hadst

a son, their union would have been our delight--"

"Ah! ah!" and Katherine's eyes grew wide. "Thou hast said naught of

this--as it appears here before me now; and it might have been too

late."

"Too late! What meanest thou?"

"The noble--nay, now I cannot tell thee, for 'tis a secret but half

mine."

"My God! who dares have secrets with thee save thy nurse and guardian;

whose damned heart hath played the lover to thee?" His hand fell upon

his sword and he drew it half way. "What guest hath so dishonoured

name as to make profit of that I have already made known as my

espoused? Tell me, Kate!" Seeing her frightened eyes, that were justly

so, he pushed back the jewelled hilt and threw his arm about her and

drew her close, so close she was well-nigh crushed by his warm and

passionate embrace and choked by pulverulent civet as her face was

pressed against the folds of his steenkirk. She felt the tumultuous

beating of his heart, and 'twas a great, new feeling came to her and

she trembled and swayed, and loved and hated both, in one brief moment

and drew from him and looked with angry eyes. "Kate, Kate, what saidst

the false lover; tell me every word. Did he ask thee for espousal?"

Now Mistress Penwick faltered and flushed, for she dare not tell him

who her suitor was and thought if she told him well what was said,

he would not press her for name, and 'twas meet she should tell him

truthfully. She feared his hot temper not a little, for she had heard

that one time he locked Lady Constance in the tower for two whole days

for telling him a falsehood.