Chapters (28)
- A LADY OF QUALITY
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- Contents
- A Lady of Quality
- Chapter I - The Twenty-Fourth Day of November 1690
- Chapter II - In Which Sir Jeoffry Encounters His Offspring
- Chapter III - Wherein Sir Jeoffry's Boon Companions Drink a Toast
- Chapter IV - Lord Twemlow's Chaplain Visits His Patron's Kinsman, and Mistress Clorinda Shines on Her Birthday Night
- Chapter V - "Not I," Said She "there Thou Mayst Trust Me I Would Not Be Found Out"
- Chapter VI - Relating How Mistress Anne Discovered a Miniature
- Chapter VII - 'Twas the Face of Sir John Oxon the Moon Shone Upon
- Chapter VIII - Two Meet in the Deserted Rose Garden, and the Old Earl of Dunstanwolde is Made a Happy Man
- Chapter IX - "I Give to Him the Thing He Craves with All His Soul—Myself"
- Chapter X - "Yes—I Have Marked Him"
- Chapter XI - Wherein a Noble Life Comes to an End
- Chapter XII - Which Treats of the Obsequies of My Lord of Dunstanwolde, of His Lady's Widowhood, and of Her Return to Town
- Chapter XIII - Wherein a Deadly War Begins
- Chapter XIV - Containing the History of the Breaking of the Horse Devil, and Relates the Returning of His Grace of Osmonde from France
- Chapter XV - In Which Sir John Oxon Finds Again a Trophy He Had Lost
- Chapter XVI - Dealing with that Which was Done in the Panelled Parlour
- Chapter XVII - Wherein His Grace of Osmonde's Courier Arrives from France
- Chapter XVIII - My Lady Dunstanwolde Sits Late Alone and Writes
- Chapter XIX - A Piteous Story is Told, and the Old Cellars Walled In
- Chapter XX - A Noble Marriage
- Chapter XXI - An Heir is Born
- Chapter XXII - Mother Anne
- 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"
- Chapter XXIV - The Doves Sate Upon the Window-Ledge and Lowly Cooed and Cooed
"Anne! Anne!" she cried. "Sister Anne! Mother Anne of my children! You have known—you have known all the years and kept it hid!"
She dropped her queenly head and shielded the whiteness of her face in the coverlid's folds.
"Ay, sister," Anne said, coming a little back to earth, "and from the first. I found a letter near the sun-dial—I guessed—I loved you—and could do naught else but guard you. Many a day have I watched within the rose-garden—many a day—and night—God pardon me—and night. When I knew a letter was hid, 'twas my wont to linger near, knowing that my presence would keep others away. And when you approached—or he—I slipped aside and waited beyond the rose hedge—that if I heard a step, I might make some sound of warning. Sister, I was your sentinel, and being so, knelt while on my guard, and prayed."
"My sentinel!" Clorinda cried. "And knowing all, you so guarded me night and day, and prayed God's pity on my poor madness and girl's frenzy!" And she gazed at her in amaze, and with humblest, burning tears.
"For my own poor self as well as for you, sister, did I pray God's pity as I knelt," said Anne. "For long I knew it not—being so ignorant—but alas! I loved him too!—I loved him too! I have loved no man other all my days. He was unworthy any woman's love—and I was too lowly for him to cast a glance on; but I was a woman, and God made us so."
Clorinda clutched her pallid hand.
"Dear God," she cried, "you loved him!"
Anne moved upon her pillow, drawing weakly, slowly near until her white lips were close upon her sister's ear.
"The night," she panted—"the night you bore him—in your arms—"
Then did the other woman give a shuddering start and lift her head, staring with a frozen face.
"What! what!" she cried.
"Down the dark stairway," the panting voice went on, "to the far cellar—I kept watch again."
"You kept watch—you?" the duchess gasped.
"Upon the stair which led to the servants' place—that I might stop them if—if aught disturbed them, and they oped their doors—that I might send them back, telling them—it was I."
Then stooped the duchess nearer to her, her hands clutching the coverlid, her eyes widening.
"Anne, Anne," she cried, "you knew the awful thing that I would hide! That too? You knew that he was there!"