Part 7 (1/2)
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 pa.s.sed 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 a.s.sured her illness was not feigned, in order she might s.h.i.+rk 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 pa.s.sing 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 pa.s.sed to the bedside and leant over and kissed her.
She flushed red as she met his eyes--now cold and unimpa.s.sioned--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?”