CHAPTER XIII
PROUD DAYS FOR THE OLD HALL
Of course the queen's approaching visit threw Haddon Hall into a frenzy ofscrubbing and furbishing. Aunt Dorothy was the busiest woman in England.Floors were newly polished. Draperies were taken down and were carefullywashed with mysterious concoctions warranted to remove dirt without injuryto color. Superfine wax was bought in great boxes, and candles were madefor all the chandeliers and candelabra in the house. Perfumed oil waspurchased for the lamp in the state bedroom. Elizabeth, by the way, whenshe came, did not like the odor of the oil, and with an oath tossed boththe oil and the lamp out of the window. The fattest sheep, kine, and hogswere chosen from the flocks and were brought in to be stall-fed in suchnumbers that one might have supposed we were expecting an ogress who couldeat an ox at a meal. Pipers and dancers were engaged, and a merry fool wasbrought down from London. At last the eventful day came and with it cameour queen. She brought with her a hundred yeomen of her guard and a scoreof ladies and gentlemen. Among the latter was the Earl of Leicester, whowas the queen's prime favorite.
Prior to the queen's announcement of her intention to visit Haddon SirGeorge had, with Dorothy's tacit consent, fixed a day upon which the Earlof Derby and his son, Lord James, should be received at the Hall for thepurpose of signing the marriage contract. Dorothy, of course, had nointention of signing the contract, but she put off the evil hour ofrefusal as far as possible, hoping something might occur in the meantimeto help her out of the dilemma. Something did occur at the last moment. Iam eager to tell you about it, but it must wait its turn. Truly would thestory of this ingenious girl's life make a romance if it were written by apoet. In her Guinevere and Elaine were moulded into one person with thetenderness, purity, and fierceness of each.
To postpone further the time of the Stanley visit, Dorothy suggested thatthe betrothal should take place in the presence of the queen. Sir Georgeacquiesced, and in his heart grew less eager for the Stanley match asDorothy apparently became more tractable. He was, however, engaged withthe earl to an extent that forbade withdrawal, even had he been sure thathe wished to withdraw.
At the time of which I speak the Earl of Leicester was the most exaltedsubject of the realm. He was ardently devoted to the cause of the ladies,and, although he had fixed his hope on Elizabeth and longed for a seatbeside her on the throne, his inflammable heart was constantly catchingfire from other eyes. He, of course, made desperate efforts to concealthese manifold conflagrations from the queen, but the inflammable tow ofhis heart was always bringing him into trouble with his fiery mistress.
The earl's first glance toward Dorothy was full of admiration. The secondglance was full of conflagration. The second day of the queen's residencein Haddon I was astonished, grieved, and angered to see that our girl hadturned her powerful batteries upon the earl with the evident purpose ofconquest. At times her long lashes would fall before him, and again hergreat luminous eyes would open wide, shedding a soft radiance which no mancould withstand. Once I saw her walking alone with him upon the terrace.Her head was drooped shamelessly, and the earl was ardent though restless,being fearful of the queen. I boiled with rage against Dorothy, but by astrong effort I did not boil over until I had better cause. The bettercause came later.
I failed to tell you of a brief conversation which occurred between SirGeorge and me after my cousin first saw the Earl of Leicester. Sir Georgehad gallantly led the queen to her apartments, and I had conductedLeicester and several of the gentlemen to their various rooms. Sir Georgeand I met at the staircase after we had quitted our guests.
He said: "Malcolm, that fellow Thomas whom I knocked in the head looked nomore like Leicester than I do. Why did you tell me there was resemblance?"
"I do not know," I answered. "Perhaps your words suggested the thought ofa resemblance. Perhaps I had lost all memory of Leicester's features. Icannot answer your question."
Then an expression of anger came to Sir George's face, and he said:--
"I believe Dorothy lied to me when she said that the fellow Thomas was ofnoble blood."
The next day a servant reported that Thomas had been seen loitering nearBowling Green Gate, and Sir George ordered Dorothy not to leave the Hallwithout his permission.
Dorothy replied to her father's command, "I shall obey you, father."
To me there was a note of danger in her voice. Such docile submissivenesswas not natural to the girl. Of course all appearance of harshness towardDorothy was suppressed by Sir George during the queen's visit to the Hall.In truth, he had no reason to be harsh, for Dorothy was a meek,submissive, and obedient daughter. Her meekness, however, as you may wellsurmise, was but the forerunner of dire rebellion.
The fourth day of the queen's presence at Haddon Hall was the oneappointed for the visit of the Stanleys, and Sir George thought to make agreat event of the betrothal by having the queen act as a witness to themarriage contract. As the day approached Sir George became thoughtful,while Dorothy grew gleeful. The girl was frequently seen with Leicester,and Sir George could not help noticing that nobleman's pronouncedadmiration for his daughter. These exhibitions of gallantry were nevermade in the presence of the queen. The morning of the day when theStanleys were expected Sir George called me to his room for a privateconsultation. The old gentleman was in a state of excitement, not unmixedwith perplexity and trouble.
He said, "I have great and good news to impart to you, Malcolm; yet I amin a dilemma growing out of it."
"Tell me the good news first, Sir George," I replied. "The dilemma maywait."
"Is Doll a very beautiful girl?" he asked eagerly.
"I believe she is the most beautiful woman in the world," I answered.
"Good, good," he replied, rubbing his hands. "Is she so fascinating,brilliant, and attractive, think you--of course I speak in jest--but thinkyou she might vie with the court ladies for beauty, and think you shemight attract--for the sake of illustration I will say--might she attracta man like Leicester?"
"Unless I am much mistaken," I answered, "Leicester is over his ears inlove with the girl now."
"Ah, do you believe so, Malcolm?" replied Sir George, laughing andslapping his thigh, as he walked to and fro across the room. "You haveseen so much of that sort of thing that you should know it when it comesunder your nose. Eh, Malcolm, eh?"
"I should suppose that any one, however inexperienced in such matters,could easily see Leicester's infatuation for Dorothy. If you wish me totell you what I really believe--"
"I do, I do," interrupted Sir George.
"I should say," I continued, "that Dorothy has deliberately gone in forconquest. Leave the girl to herself, Sir George. She can conduct thecampaign without help from any one. She understands the art of suchwarfare as well as if she were a veteran."
"Gad, but she does, but she does. I believe she could give Venus herselfsome good points in the matter. But let me tell you, Malcolm,"--the oldman dropped his voice to a whisper,--"I questioned Doll this morning, andshe confessed that Leicester had spoken words of love to her. Would it notbe a great match for our house?"
He said "our house," mind you, not "our Doll." I might call his conditionof mind patrimonial selfishness. Simple old man! He did not know thatwords of love are not necessarily words of marriage.
"Has Leicester spoken to you?" I asked in alarm for John's sake.
"No, no, he has not spoken," returned my cousin; "for that, of course, hemust have the queen's consent. But he will speak, I am sure, all in goodtime, Malcolm, all in good time."
"How about the Stanleys?" I asked. "They will be here this afternoon."
"That's the devil's finger in the matter," cried Sir George. "That's wheremy dilemma lies. How shall I put them off, and still retain them in casenothing should come from Leicester? Besides, I am in honor bound to theearl."
"I have a plan," I replied. "You carry out your part of the agreementwith the earl, but let Dorothy, at the last moment, refuse to give herconsent. Let her ask for more time, o
n the plea that she does not know hermind. I will suggest to her, if you wish, the part she is to play; but Iwill conceal from her the fact that you are a party to it."
"No," said the old man, "that would be bad faith toward the earl." After apause he continued doubtingly: "No, do not speak to Doll. I believe sheneeds no suggestions in the matter. I fear that mischief is in her mindalready. Her easy acquiescence in my wishes have of late had a suspiciousappearance. No, don't speak to her, Malcolm. If ever there lived a girlwho could be perverse and wilful on her own account, without help from anyone, it is my girl Doll. God bless you, man, if she but knew that I wantedher to reject Stanley, she would have him in spite of hell itself. Iwonder what she means by her docility and obedience? No, don't speak aword to her on the subject. Let her believe I am serious regarding thismarriage, and she will have some plan of her own to raise the devil. Ihave been expecting signs of it every day. I had determined not to bearwith her perversity, but now that the Leicester possibility has come upwe'll leave Doll to work out her own salvation, Malcolm. Don't interfere.No man living can teach that girl a new trick in deviltry. Gods, Malcolm!I am curious to know what she will be doing, for she certainly will bedoing something rather than sign that contract of betrothal."
"But suppose out of obedience to you she should sign the contract?" Iasked.
"Malcolm, you don't know Doll," he replied. Then, after a pause, "Neitherdo I. I wish she were well married."
When I left Sir George, I found Dorothy in close consultation with thequeen and two of her ladies. I heard the name of Lord James Stanley spokenamid suppressed laughter, and I suspected Dorothy had on foot some pranktouching that young man, to which her Majesty was a party.
After dinner the Stanleys came a-wooing. The party consisted of father,son, and four retainers, who looked as if they had been preserved inalcohol for the occasion, so red were their faces.
The Earl of Derby was a fine old gentleman of the rural type. His nobleson was an uncouth rustic, who had no thought above a stable boy or tavernmaid, nor any ambition above horse trading. His attire was a wonder tobehold. He wore a ruff of stupendous proportions. His trunks were sopuffed out and preposterous in size that they looked like a great paintedknot on a tree; and the many-colored splendors of his sleeves, his hat,his hose, and his shoes were dazzling to the eye. Add to this wondrousraiment feet and hands that could not be satisfactorily disposed of, andan unrest of manner painful to behold, and you may possibly conceive thegrandiose absurdity of Dorothy's wooer. The sight of him almost made SirGeorge ill; and his entrance into the long gallery, where the queen wasseated with her ladies and gentlemen, and Sir George and his friendsstanding about her, was a signal for laughter in which her Majesty openlyjoined.
I shall not lead you through the tedious ceremony of presentation andintroduction, nor shall I tell you of the pompous manner in which one ofthe earl's retinue, a lawyer, read the marriage contract. The fact thatthe contract was read without the presence of Dorothy, whom it so nearlyconcerned, was significant of the small consideration which at that timewas given to a girl's consent. When all was ready for the signing, Dorothywas summoned.
Sir George stood beside the Stanleys, and his nervousness was painfullyapparent. Two servants opened the great doors at the end of the longgallery, and Dorothy, holding up the skirt of her gown, bounded into theroom. She kneeled to the queen, and turned toward her uncle Stanley andher lover-cousin with a low bow. Then she courtesied and said--
"Good even, uncle, and how do you do, cousin. Have you come to inspect me,and, perchance, to buy?"
Sir George's face bore an expression of mingled shame, wonder, and alarm,and the queen and her suite laughed behind their fans.
"It is well," continued Dorothy. "Here am I, ready for inspection."Thereupon she began to disrobe herself before the entire company.Leicester laughed outright, and the queen and her ladies suppressed theirmerriment for a moment, and then sent forth peals of laughter withoutrestraint. Sir George stepped toward the girl and raised his handwarningly, but the queen interposed:--
"Silence, Sir George, I command you;" and Sir George retreated to hisformer place beside the Earl of Derby. Dorothy first removed her bodice,showing her shoulders and a part of her arms, clothed in the fashion of atavern maid.
Leicester, who stood by me, whispered, "God never made anything morebeautiful than Mistress Vernon's arms."
Sir George again spoke angrily, "Doll, what are you doing?" But the queenby a wave of her hand commanded silence. Then the girl put her handsbehind her, and loosened the belt which held her skirt in place. The skirtfell to the floor, and out of it bounded Dorothy in the short gown of amaid.
"You will be better able to judge of me in this costume, cousin," saidDorothy. "It will be more familiar to you than the gowns which ladieswear."
"I will retract," said Leicester, whispering to me, and gazing ardentlyat Dorothy's ankles. "God has made something more beautiful than MistressVernon's arms. By Venus! I suppose that in His omnipotence He might beable to create something more beautiful than her ankles, but up to thistime He has not vouchsafed to me a vision of it. Ah! did any one everbehold such strength, such perfect symmetry, such--St. George! the gypsydoesn't live who can dance like that."
Sure enough, Dorothy was dancing. The pipers in the balcony had burstforth in a ribald jig of a tune, and the girl was whirling in a wild,weird, and wondrous dance before her lover-cousin. Sir George ordered thepipers to cease playing; but again Elizabeth, who was filled with mirth,interrupted, and the music pealed forth in wanton volumes which floodedthe gallery. Dorothy danced like an elfin gypsy to the inspiring strains.Soon her dance changed to wondrous imitations of the movements of a horse.She walked sedately around in an ever increasing circle; she trotted andpaced; she gave the single foot and racked; she galloped, slowly for awhile, and then the gallop merged into a furious run which sent the bloodof her audience thrilling through their veins with delight. The wondrousease and grace, and the marvellous strength and quickness of hermovements, cannot be described. I had never before thought the human bodycapable of such grace and agility as she displayed.
After her dance was finished she stepped in front of her cousin anddelivered herself as follows:--
"I am sound from ear tip to fetlock. There is not a blemish in me."
"No, by my faith, I will swear there is not!" cried the Earl of Leicester.
"I have good wind," continued Dorothy, "two good eyes. By night or by dayI can see everything within the range of my vision, and a great deal thatis not. I shy, at times, when an uncouth object suddenly comes upon me. Iam warranted gentle if properly handled, but otherwise it is unsafe tocurry my heels."
Sir George could no longer restrain himself, and again tried to preventDorothy from proceeding with her terrible insult to the Stanleys. Thequeen, however, was determined to see the end of the frolic, and shesaid:--
"Proceed, Mistress Vernon, proceed."
Dorothy, nothing loath, continued: "As for my disposition, it might bebetter. It probably will improve with age, if it doesn't grow worse. Ihave all the gaits a horse should have. I am four years old, I have neverbeen trained to work double, and I think I never shall be. What think you?Now what have you to offer in exchange? Step out and let me see you move."
She took the poor youth by the hand and led him to the middle of thefloor.
"How old are you? Show me your teeth," she said. The heir to Derby smileduneasily, and drew his hand across his nose.
"Ah, you have a touch of the distemper, I see. Are you subject to it?"
Stanley smiled, and the earl said:--
"Sir George, this insult has gone far enough."
"Stand back, my Lord Derby," said the queen. "Do not interfere with thisinteresting barter."
The earl reluctantly lapsed into silence. He remembered the insult of herMajesty's words all his life.
"Now step off," said Dorothy to Lord James.
The young man stood in helpless confusion. Dorothy t
ook a step backwardfrom him, and after watching Stanley a moment said:--
"What! You can neither trot, pace, nor gallop? I don't believe you caneven walk alone." Then she turned toward Sir George. A smile was on herlips, but a look from hell was in her eyes as she said:--
"Father, take a lesson from this day. I gave you fair warning. Bring me nomore scurvy cobs for barter nor trade." Then she turned to the Earl ofDerby and to her cousin Lord James, made a deep courtesy, and said:--
"You can have no barter with me. Good day."
She ran from the room, and a great peal of laughter from all save SirGeorge and the Stanleys followed her as she passed out through the doubledoor. When the laughter had subsided, the Earl of Derby turned to SirGeorge and said:--
"Sir George, this insult is unbearable, and I shall expect satisfactionfor it." Then he turned to the queen: "I beg that your Majesty will giveme leave to depart with my son."
"Granted," answered Elizabeth, and father and son started to leave theroom, moving backward toward the great doors. Sir George asked the earland Lord Stanley to remain, and in the presence of the company who hadwitnessed the insult, he in the humblest manner made abject apology forthe treatment his distinguished guests had received at the hands of hisdaughter. He very honestly and in all truth disclaimed any sympathy withDorothy's conduct, and offered, as the only reparation he could make, topunish her in some way befitting the offence. Then he conducted the gueststo the mounting block near the entrance tower and saw them depart. Dorothyhad solved her father's dilemma with a vengeance.
Sir George was not sure that he wanted to be angry at Dorothy, though hefelt it was a duty he owed to himself and to the Stanleys. He had wishedthat the girl would in some manner defer the signing of the contract, buthe had not wanted her to refuse young Stanley's hand in a manner soinsulting that the match would be broken off altogether.
As the day progressed, and as Sir George pondered over Dorothy's conduct,he grew more inclined to anger; but during the afternoon she kept wellunder the queen's wing, and he found no opportunity to give vent to hisill-temper.
Late that night he called me to his room. He had been drinking during theevening and was poised between good-humored hilarity and ill-temperedferocity. The latter condition was usually the result of his libations.When I entered the room it was evident he was amused.
"Did you ever hear or see such brazen effrontery?" he asked, referring toDorothy's treatment of the Stanleys. "Is there another girl on earth whowould have conceived the absurd thought, or, having conceived it, wouldhave dared to carry it out?"
I took a chair and replied, "I think there is not another."
"I hope not," continued Sir George. He sat in thought for a moment, andthen broke forth into a great laugh. When he had finished laughing hesaid: "I admit it was laughable and--and pretty--beautiful. Damme, Ididn't know the girl could do it, Malcolm! I didn't know she had it inher. There is not another girl living could have carried the frolicthrough." Then he spoke seriously, "But I will make her smart for it whenthe queen leaves Haddon."
"Sir George, if you will allow me to suggest what I feel on the subject, Iwould say that you have no reason whatever for desiring to make Dorothysmart. She may have deeper designs than we can see."
"What designs do you suppose she can have? Tell me, Malcolm," asked SirGeorge.
I remained silent for a moment, hardly knowing how to express my thought."Certainly she could not have appeared to a better advantage than in hertavern maid's costume," I said.
"That is true," answered Sir George. "Though she is my own daughter, Imust admit that I have never seen any woman so beautiful as she." The oldgentleman laughed softly for a moment and said: "But wasn't it brazen?Wasn't it shameless? I have always given the girl credit for modesty,but--damme, damme--"
"Her beauty in the tavern maid's costume fired Leicester's heart asnothing else could have done," I said. "He stood by my side, and was inraptures over her charms."
Sir George mused a moment and said something about the "Leicesterpossibility," which I knew to be an impossibility, and before I left himhe had determined to allow the matter to drop for the present. "I ammaking a damned pretty mess of the whole affair, I fear, Malcolm," hesaid.
"You don't seem to be clearing it up, Sir George," I responded.
After talking over some arrangements for the queen's entertainment, I saidgood night, and left my cousin brooding over as complicated a problem asman ever tried to solve.
The next morning I told Dorothy how her father felt with respect to the"Leicester possibility." She laughed and said:--
"I will encourage father in that matter, and," with a saucy twinkle in hereye, "incidentally I will not discourage my proud lord of Leicester. Iwill make the most of the situation, fear not, Malcolm."
"I do not fear," said I, emphatically.
There it was: the full-blown spirit of conquest, strong even in alove-full heart. God breathed into Adam the breath of life; but into Evehe breathed the love of conquest, and it has been growing stronger in thehearts of her daughters with each recurring generation.
"How about John?" I asked.
"Oh, John?" she answered, throwing her head contemplatively to one side."He is amply able to protect his own interests. I could not be reallyuntrue to him if I wished to be. It is I who am troubled on the score ofinfidelity. John will be with the most beautiful queen--" She broke off inthe midst of her sentence, and her face became clouded with an expressionof anger and hatred. "God curse her! I wish she were dead, dead, dead.There! you know how I feel toward your English-French-Scottish beauty.Curse the mongrel--" She halted before the ugly word she was about to use;but her eyes were like glowing embers, and her cheeks were flushed by theheat of anger.
"Did you not promise me, Dorothy, that you would not again allow yourselfto become jealous of Queen Mary?" I asked.
"Yes, I promised, but I cannot prevent the jealousy, and I do not intendto try. I hate her, and I love to hate her."
"Why should you hate her?" I asked. "If John remains true to you, there iscertainly no cause for you to hate any one. If he should be untrue to you,you should hate him."
"Hate him?" she exclaimed. "That, indeed, is pretty reasoning. If heshould be untrue to me, I should of course hate her. I could not hate him.I did not make myself love him. I would never have been so great a fool asto bring that pain upon myself intentionally. I suppose no girl woulddeliberately make herself love a man and bring into her heart so great anagony. I feel toward John as I do, because I must; and I hate yourScottish mongrel because I must. I tell you, Malcolm, when she comes toRutland, if I hear of her trying any of her wanton tricks on John therewill be trouble--mark my words!"
"I ask you to promise me this, Dorothy: that you will do nothingconcerning John and Queen Mary without first speaking to me."
She paced across the room angrily. "I promise you nothing, Malcolm, savethat I shall not allow that woman to come between John and me. That Ipromise you, on my oath."
Dorothy continued to shed her luminous smiles on Leicester, though she wascareful not to shine in the queen's presence. My lord was dazzled by thesmiles, and continually sought opportunities to bask in their dangerouslight. As a result of this smiling and basking the great Londonheart-breaker was soon helplessly caught in the toils of Doll, the countrymaiden. She played him as an angler plays a trout. The most experiencedcourt coquette could not have done the part better than did this girl,whose knowledge of the subject was wholly intuitive, for her life had allbeen spent amid the green hills and groves of Derbyshire. She so managedthe affair that her father should see enough of Leicester's preference tokeep alive in Sir George's mind the hope for the "Leicester possibility."Those words had become with her a phrase slyly to play upon.
One afternoon when the sun was graciously warm and bright, I induced Madgeto walk with me upon the terrace, that I might for a few moments feel thetouch of her hand and hear her whispered words. We took a seat by a largeholly bush, which effectua
lly concealed us from view. We had been therebut a few moments when we heard footsteps approaching. Looking between thebranches of the holly bush I saw Dorothy and Leicester coming toward usfrom the north end of the terrace. Dorothy's eyes were cast down demurely,and her head hung in the attitude of a shy, modest girl, who listenstimidly to words that are music in her ears. Never have I seen an attitudemore indicative of the receptive mood than that which Dorothy assumedtoward Leicester.
"Ah," thought I, "poor John has given his heart and has risked his lifefor the sake of Doll, and Doll is a miserable coquette."
But there was conduct still more objectionable to come from Dorothy.
Unconscious of our presence, Leicester said, "My fair beauty, my Venus,here is a settle under this holly bush, well hidden from prying eyes. Itinvites us. Will you sit here with me for one happy moment, and give me ataste of Paradise?"
"I fear I should not sit with you, my lord, however much I--may--may wishto do so. My father or the queen might observe us." The black lashes fellupon the fair cheek, and the red golden head with its crown of glory hungforward convincingly.
"You false jade," thought I.
"I ask for but one moment," pleaded Leicester. "The queen sleeps at thistime after dinner, and perhaps your father would not object if you were togrant this little favor to the first nobleman of the realm."
"You do not know my father, my lord. He is very strict regarding myconduct," murmured the drooping head.
"I ask for but one little moment," continued the earl, "in which to tellyou that you have filled my heart with adoration and love."
"I should not listen to you, my lord. Were I mindful of my happiness, Ishould return to the Hall at once," said the drooping lashes and hanginghead.
"You lying wench," thought I. By that time I was thoroughly angered.
"Only one little moment on the settle," pleaded Leicester, "that I mayspeak to you that which I wish so ardently to say."
"Can you not speak while we walk, my lord?" asked Dorothy.
I felt a bitter desire to curse the girl.
"It is difficult for me to speak while we walk," said Leicester,cautiously taking the girl's hand; so she permitted him to lead her to thesettle under the holly bush, on the opposite side of which Madge and Iwere sitting.
The earl retained the hand for a moment after he and Dorothy were seated,but she gently drew it away and moved a little distance from his Lordship.Still, her eyes were drooped, her head hung low, and her bosom actuallyheaved as if with emotion.
"I will tell John of your shamelessness," I said to myself. "He shall feelno more heartaches for you--you wanton huzzy."
Then Leicester poured forth his passion most eloquently. Poesy, verse, andrhetoric all came to help him in his wooing. Now and then the girl wouldrespond to his ardor with "Please, my lord," or "I pray you, my lord," andwhen he would try to take her hand she would say, "I beg you, my lord, donot." But Leicester evidently thought that the "do not" meant "do," forsoon he began to steal his arm about her waist, and she was so slow instopping him that I thought she was going to submit. She, however, arosegently to her feet and said:--
"My lord, I must return to the Hall. I may not longer remain here withyou."
The earl caught her hand and endeavored to kiss it, but she adroitlyprevented him, and stepping out into the path, started slowly toward theHall. She turned her head slightly toward Leicester in a mute but eloquentinvitation, and he quickly followed her.
I watched the pair walk up the terrace. They descended the steps to thegarden, and from thence they entered the Hall by way of the porch.
"Was it not very wicked in Dorothy to listen to such words fromLeicester?" asked Madge. "I do not at all understand her."
Madge, of course, knew only a part of what had happened, and a very smallpart at that, for she had not seen Dorothy. Madge and I returned to theHall, and we went at once to Dorothy's room, hoping to see her, andintending to tell her our opinion of the shameless manner in which she hadacted.
Dorothy was in her room alone when we entered. She clapped her hands, ranto the door, bolted it, and bounded back toward us.
"I have the greatest news to tell you," she cried laughingly,--"thegreatest news and the greatest sport of which you ever heard. My lordLeicester is in love with me."
"Indeed, that is very fine," I responded; but my irony met its usual fate.She did not see it.
"Yes," continued Dorothy, brimming over with mirth, "you should have heardhim pleading with me a few moments since upon the terrace."
"We did hear him," said Madge.
"You heard him? Where? How?" Her eyes were wide with wonder.
"We were on the opposite side of the holly bush from you," I answered. "Weheard him and we saw you."
"Did you? Good. I am glad of it," said Dorothy.
"Yes, we saw and we heard all, and we think that your conduct wasshameless," I responded severely.
"Shameless?" demanded Dorothy. "Now pray tell me what I did or said thatwas shameless.".
I was at a loss to define the wrong in her conduct, for it had been of anintangible quality which in itself was nothing, but notwithstanding meanta great deal.
"You permitted him to hold your hand," I said, trying to fix on somethingreal with which to accuse her.
"I did nothing of the sort," said Dorothy, laughingly. "He caught my handseveral times, but I withdrew it from him"
I knew she spoke the truth regarding her hand, so I tried again.
"You--you hung your head and kept your eyes cast down, and you looked--"
"Oh, I hung my head, I cast down my eyes, and I looked?" she answered,laughing heartily. "Pray let me ask you, Master Fault-finder, for what useelse are heads and eyes made?"
I was not prepared to say that the uses to which Dorothy had put her headand eyes were not some of the purposes for which they were created. Theyare good purposes, too, I admit, although I would not have conceded asmuch to Dorothy. I knew the girl would soon wheedle me into her way ofthinking, so I took a bold stand and said:--
"It is my intention to tell John about your conduct with Leicester, and Ishall learn for what purpose he thinks eyes and heads are created."
"Tell John?" cried Dorothy. "Of course you may tell John. He well knowsthe purposes of heads and eyes, and their proper uses. He has told me manytimes his opinion on the subject." She laughed for a moment, and thencontinued: "I, too, shall tell John all that happened or shall happenbetween Lord Leicester and me. I wish I could tell him now. How I wish Icould tell him now." A soft light came to her eyes, and she repeatedhuskily: "If I might tell him now; if I might tell him now. Why, Malcolm,I despise Leicester. He is a poor, weak fool. He has no more force norstrength than I have. He is not a man. He is no more attractive than awoman. He wanted to kiss me. He begged me to give him but one. It is but apoor kiss which a man gets by begging. Think you I would give him one? Hadhe but touched my lips, think you I would ever allow John to soil himselfagain by kissing them? Fear not, Malcolm. Fear not for John nor for me.No man will ever receive from me a favor, the granting of which would makeme unfit to be John's--John's wife. I have paid too dearly for him tothrow him away for a penny whistle that I do not want." Then she grewearnest, with a touch of anger: "Leicester! What reason, suppose you,Malcolm, have I for treating him as I do? Think you I act from sheerwantonness? If there were one little spot of that fault upon my soul, Iwould tear myself from John, though I should die for it."
Her laughing mood had passed away, and I feared to say that I could see noreason other than coquetry for her conduct, I feared the red-hairedtigress would scratch my eyes out.
"I have wanted to see you," she continued, "that I might tell you of myplans and of the way they are working out, but now since you have spokento me in this manner, Sir Malcolm Francois de Lorraine Vernon, I shalltell you nothing. You suspect me. Therefore, you shall wait with the restof the world to learn my purposes. You may tell John all you have seen andheard. I care not how quickly you do it
." Then with a sigh: "I pray God itmay be very soon. He will wish for no explanation, and he shall one dayhave in me a rich reward for his faith."
"Do you trust him as he trusts you?" I asked, "and would you demand anexplanation were he to act toward Mary Stuart as you have acted towardLeicester?"
"He could not act toward her as I did toward Lord Leicester," she saidthoughtfully. Then after a moment she laughingly continued: "Johncan't--he can't hang his head and--droop his eyes and look."
"But if--" I began.
"I want no more of your hellish 'ifs,'" cried the girl in sudden fury. "IfJohn were to--to look at that Scottish mongrel as I looked at Leicester, Iwould--I would kill the royal wanton. I would kill her if it cost mylife. Now, for God's sake, leave me. You see the state into which youhave wrought me." I left Madge with Dorothy and walked out upon BowlingGreen to ponder on the events that were passing before me.
From the time we learned that John had gone to fetch the Scottish queen Ihad fears lest Dorothy's inflammable jealousy might cause trouble, and nowthose fears were rapidly transforming themselves into a feeling ofcertainty. There is nothing in life so sweet and so dangerous as the loveof a hot-blooded woman.
I soon saw Dorothy again. "Tell me," said I, in conciliation, "tell me,please, what is your reason for acting as you do toward Leicester, and whyshould you look differently upon similar conduct on John's part?"
"I will not tell you my plans," she responded,--"not now, at least.Perhaps I shall do so when I have recovered from my ill-temper. It is hardfor me to give my reasons for feeling differently about like conduct onJohn's part. Perhaps I feel as I do because--because--It is this way:While I might do little things--mere nothings--such as I have done--itwould be impossible for me to do any act of unfaithfulness to John. Oh, itcould not be. But with him, he--he--well, he is a man and--and--oh, don'ttalk to me! Don't talk to me! You are driving me mad. Out of my sight! Outof my room! Holy Virgin! I shall die before I have him; I know I shall."
There it was again. The thought of Mary Stuart drove her wild. Dorothythrew herself on her face upon the bed, and Madge went over and sat by herside to soothe her. I, with a feeling of guilt, so adroit had beenDorothy's defence, left the girls and went to my room in the tower tounravel, by the help of my pipe, the tangled web of woman'sincomprehensibility. I failed, as many another man had failed before me,and as men will continue to fail to the end of time.