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Chapters (28)
  1. A LADY OF QUALITY
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  3. Contents
  4. A Lady of Quality
  5. Chapter I - The Twenty-Fourth Day of November 1690
  6. Chapter II - In Which Sir Jeoffry Encounters His Offspring
  7. Chapter III - Wherein Sir Jeoffry's Boon Companions Drink a Toast
  8. Chapter IV - Lord Twemlow's Chaplain Visits His Patron's Kinsman, and Mistress Clorinda Shines on Her Birthday Night
  9. Chapter V - "Not I," Said She "there Thou Mayst Trust Me I Would Not Be Found Out"
  10. Chapter VI - Relating How Mistress Anne Discovered a Miniature
  11. Chapter VII - 'Twas the Face of Sir John Oxon the Moon Shone Upon
  12. Chapter VIII - Two Meet in the Deserted Rose Garden, and the Old Earl of Dunstanwolde is Made a Happy Man
  13. Chapter IX - "I Give to Him the Thing He Craves with All His Soul—Myself"
  14. Chapter X - "Yes—I Have Marked Him"
  15. Chapter XI - Wherein a Noble Life Comes to an End
  16. Chapter XII - Which Treats of the Obsequies of My Lord of Dunstanwolde, of His Lady's Widowhood, and of Her Return to Town
  17. Chapter XIII - Wherein a Deadly War Begins
  18. Chapter XIV - Containing the History of the Breaking of the Horse Devil, and Relates the Returning of His Grace of Osmonde from France
  19. Chapter XV - In Which Sir John Oxon Finds Again a Trophy He Had Lost
  20. Chapter XVI - Dealing with that Which was Done in the Panelled Parlour
  21. Chapter XVII - Wherein His Grace of Osmonde's Courier Arrives from France
  22. Chapter XVIII - My Lady Dunstanwolde Sits Late Alone and Writes
  23. Chapter XIX - A Piteous Story is Told, and the Old Cellars Walled In
  24. Chapter XX - A Noble Marriage
  25. Chapter XXI - An Heir is Born
  26. Chapter XXII - Mother Anne
  27. Chapter XXIII - "In One Who Will Do Justice, and Demands that it Shall Be Done to Each Thing He Has Made, by Each Who Bears His Image"
  28. Chapter XXIV - The Doves Sate Upon the Window-Ledge and Lowly Cooed and Cooed

"I love him," she wept—"I love him so—I cannot leave the place where he might be. He was so beautiful and grand a gentleman, and, sure, he loved me better than all else—and I cannot thrust away from me that last night when he held me to his breast near our cottage door, and the nightingale sang in the roses, and he spake such words to me. I lie and sob all night on my hard pillow—I so long to see him and to hear his voice—and hearing he had been with you that last morning, I dared to come, praying that you might have heard him let drop some word that would tell me where he may be, for I cannot go away thinking he may come back longing for me—and I lose him and never see his face again. Oh! my lady, my lady, this place is so full of wickedness and fierce people—and dark kennels where crimes are done. I am affrighted for him, thinking he may have been struck some blow, and murdered, and hid away; and none will look for him but one who loves him—who loves him. Could it be so?—could it be? You know the town's ways so well. I pray you, tell me—in God's name I pray you!"

"God's mercy!" Anne breathed, and from behind her hands came stifled sobbing. My Lady Dunstanwolde bent down, her colour dying.

"Nay, nay," she said, "there has been no murder done—none! Hush, poor thing, hush thee. There is somewhat I must tell thee."

She tried to raise her, but the child would not be raised, and clung to her rich robe, shaking as she knelt gazing upward.

"It is a bitter thing," my lady said, and 'twas as if her own eyes were imploring. "God help you bear it—God help us all. He told me nothing of his journey. I knew not he was about to take it; but wheresoever he has travelled, 'twas best that he should go."

"Nay! nay!" the girl cried out—"to leave me helpless. Nay! it could not be so. He loved me—loved me—as the great duke loves you!"

"He meant you evil," said my lady, shuddering, "and evil he would have done you. He was a villain—a villain who meant to trick you. Had God struck him dead that day, 'twould have been mercy to you. I knew him well."

The young thing gave a bitter cry and fell swooning at her feet; and down upon her knees my lady went beside her, loosening her gown, and chafing her poor hands as though they two had been of sister blood.