THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA
 
 "It was Theodora's fixed intention to charm 
 Lord lermor at that moment ' 
 
 (page 313)
 
 The Marriage of 
 Theodora 
 
 By MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL 
 
 Author of " Children of Destiny," " T e House ot 
 Egremont," etc. 
 
 WITH FRONTISPIECE 
 BY THE KINNEYS 
 
 A. L. BURT COMPANY 
 PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1910, BT 
 DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 
 
 Published, March, 1910
 
 Ota the bear mtmorg 
 of 
 
 'And sweetly , from the far-off years 
 Comes borne the laughter, faint and low, 
 The voices of the long ago 
 My eyes are met with tender tears." 
 
 2229160
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I A MODERN ENGLISHMAN .... 1 
 
 II THEODORA 12 
 
 III REGENERATION 27 
 
 IV THE BREAKING FROM BONDAGE . . 43 
 
 V EXPIATION 56 
 
 VI THE PORTAL OF THE HEART ... 70 
 
 VII THE PERPLEXITIES OF LADY SUSAN . 88 
 
 VIII WEAVING AND UNWEAVING .... 101 
 
 IX KING'S LYNDON TELLS ITS STORY . . 101 
 
 X THE OLD, OLD ENGLAND .... 119 
 
 XI WHAT DREAMS WILL COME . . . 128 
 
 XII VISITORS AT KING'S LYNDON . . . 141 
 
 XIII SUNRISE ..,-'. 154 
 
 XIV LORD CASTLEMAINE is PUZZLED ,. . 169 
 
 XV LIGHT! MORE LIGHT! 182 
 
 XVI THE SOUL AND THE HEART . . . 1P7 
 
 XVII THE COMEDY OF FATE 212 
 
 XVIII BATTLES OF THE SPIRIT .... 222 
 
 XIX THE DARKNESS AND THE LIGHT . . 235 
 
 XX THE CRUCIBLE 254 
 
 XXI THE RECKONING DAY 265
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 XXII THE HEART OP A WOMAN ... 
 
 XXIII THE COUNCILS OF FRIENDS . . 
 
 XXIV Tnn TRUCE OF LOVE . . .. . 
 XXV GOD AND MANY MEN 
 
 XXVI THE HONOURS OF KING'S LYNDON 
 
 XXVII THE HOSTS OF KING'S LYNDON . 
 
 XXVIII TRIUMPHANT DEMOCRACY . . 
 
 XIX THE DAWN 
 
 XXX IN THE MORNING GLOW .
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 A MODERN ENGLISHMAN 
 
 THE rosy dusk of a June evening lay upon great 
 London town. The trees in Hyde Park loomed large 
 in the soft, still twilight, and the Serpentine, dark 
 and quiet, reflected the stars that stole into the 
 purple sky. The noises of traffic had ceased, and the 
 laughter, the lights, and the gaiety of the evening 
 had not yet begun. Nearly every house in the wide 
 and spacious Queen's Gate was illuminated. The bal- 
 conies and windows were masses of pink and white 
 blooms, whose delicate odour made the summer night 
 fragrant. 
 
 Three great houses, in a row, however, showed 
 no signs of festivity. On the drawing-room balcony 
 of the middle one, Castlemaine House, Lady Susan 
 Battle, tall, broad and oracular, was laying down 
 the law and the prophets to her brother, the Earl of 
 Castlemaine, and the heir presumptive, Lord Fermor. 
 
 "I protest," cried Lady Susan wrathfully, ar- 
 ranging her satin draperies of a violent red, " the 
 next thing I expect to hear is that some American 
 has taken Buckingham Palace for the season and 
 converted Westminster Abbey into his private 
 chapel. What do you think that good-looking, 
 painted Jezebel, Flora Bellenden, told me to-day?
 
 2 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 That this man Seymour, who lives next door, had 
 taken King's Lyndon on a seven-years' lease. I 
 told her she didn't know what she was talking about 
 but nothing can abash that woman." 
 
 At the mention of Mrs. Bellenden's name, Lord 
 Castlemaine gave Lord Fermor a significant half- 
 glance which, however, discovered nothing. Fer- 
 mor, the perfect type of a slim, sinewy, high-caste 
 Englishman, did not so much as wink an eyelash 
 at the mention of the lady's name, which he might 
 be supposed to defend from the charge of being a 
 painted Jezebel. 
 
 Lady Susan, having mounted her hobby, which 
 was detestation of Americans, proceeded to lash it, 
 and spur it. Lord Castlemaine listened with a grin. 
 He was not without sympathy for the Lady Susan 
 Battles of England. It was a grievous thing that 
 with hordes of unmarried girls in England, and a 
 scant supply of men, the Americans should cull the 
 best of the crop of husbands. Lord Castlemaine, 
 himself, admired American women aesthetically, 
 and preferred shamelessly to have an American sit 
 next him at dinner. But he had no especial fancy 
 for the splendid uncertainties of an American heir- 
 ess' fortune. It was invariably too well secured to 
 the wife, and the husband sharing it depended too 
 much upon his good behaviour. Nevertheless, Lord 
 Castlemaine was willing to proclaim an entirely dif- 
 ferent set of sentiments, for the pleasure of harassing 
 Lady Susan. Fermor listened to the conversation
 
 A MODERN ENGLISHMAN 3 
 
 abstractedly; he was not much interested in Ameri- 
 cans. 
 
 The father and son were singularly alike in spite 
 of the gap of thirty years between them. Lord 
 Castlemaine carried his sixty-five years with cour- 
 age. He had lived hard, gambled hard, drank and 
 dined much and often, and, what was more, had 
 worked hard. He was endowed with great wit and 
 great passions and he used the one to gratify the 
 other. One of his strongest passions was for the 
 House of Lords. He would leave Newmarket at any 
 moment when there was a field night on in the Upper 
 House. And he had been known to abandon Monte 
 Carlo, in the height of the season, to make a series 
 of fierce assaults upon Gladstone's ministry. Lord 
 Castlemaine was by nature a Tory, but, unlike 
 most Tories, he had no expectation of revolutions 
 turning backward, and fought the advancing hosts 
 of the great Demos, with his back to the wall. He 
 might, however, be classed with the destructive 
 rather than the constructive statesmen. He had 
 never held office and professed a disdain for it. 
 As a matter of fact, his bitterness of tongue, 
 his brilliant invective, his appalling and dangerous 
 candour, his pitiless logic, made him more feared as 
 an ally than as an opponent. He was still slim, if 
 not sinewy, but the strenuous life had left its mark 
 upon him. In his youth he had been thought to re- 
 semble the young hero, his head looked as if he had 
 picked it up on a battle field. Fermor, at thirty-five,
 
 4 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 had the appearance of clean living and the reputa- 
 tion of something else. 
 
 It was Lord Castlemaine's habit to listen with de- 
 light to his sister Lady Susan's vapourings and to 
 encourage her in perpetual scheming for things 
 which never came to pass. At forty-five, Lady 
 Susan had married Joshua Battle, a small, meek 
 and amazingly rich man, from Birmingham. Lady 
 Susan's (juarterings made up for the fact that 
 Joshua Battle had begun life as an ironmonger on a 
 large scale, and his money atoned for his having five 
 maiden daughters, when he married Lady Susan. 
 It became the dream of Lady Susan, who was a good 
 step-mother after her lights, to marry one of the 
 Battle girls to her nephew, Lord Fermor. She had 
 tried him with Jane, Eliza and Sarah Battle, but 
 had failed signally with each. There were two others 
 still in the hands of governesses and masters, and 
 Lady Susan, undaunted by her three previous de- 
 feats, confidently reckoned that either Rebecca or 
 Amelia would be the future Countess of Castlemaine. 
 
 Meanwhile, Lord Fermor showed no inclination 
 to marry anybody, and as Mrs. Bellenden, the lady 
 described by Lady Susan ais the " good-looking, 
 painted Jezebel," was already provided with a 
 husband, there could be no question of his marrying 
 her, for the present at least. Fermor must marry 
 money; that was well understood. Castlemaine was 
 a poor earldom, as earldoms go, with a big town 
 house and two great country places, which cost a
 
 A MODERN ENGLISHMAN 5 
 
 fortune to keep up and consequently were allowed 
 to go down. King's Lyndon, the finest of these 
 places, lay in one of the beautiful midland counties 
 of England, and had been practically closed for 
 ten years. The repairs and refurnishings would have 
 swamped Lord Castlemaine completely, and so it had 
 gone untenanted, except for an occasional month or 
 two when Lord Castlemaine or Fermor would occupy 
 three or four rooms in a corner of one wing of the 
 vast house. Lord Castlemaine was an open and con- 
 fessed Londoner, unashamed and unafraid. He was 
 the soul-brother of Macaulay and Dr. Johnson and 
 those men to whom the great surging city thun- 
 dered a perpetual message. No matter how much 
 King's Lyndon and Longstaffe might go to rack 
 and ruin, Castlemaine House was always kept up to 
 the mark, and its dinners were still good in spite of 
 the fact that like everything else Lord Castlemaine 
 possessed, it was covered with mortgages, to which 
 Fermor had calmly, if not cheerfully, agreed. To- 
 night there was no dinner on at Castlemaine House ; 
 Lord Castlemaine and Fermor were both dining out 
 and Lady Susan had stepped in for her daily visi- 
 tation to her brother and nephew. Finding that 
 Fermor did not pick up the gage of battle cast at 
 his feet by the mention of Mrs. Bellenden's name, 
 Lady Susan proceeded to take her grievance to walk 
 as the French say. 
 
 "The Americans simply own London during the 
 season. Everywhere you go they are there those
 
 6 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 little women with their insignificant features and 
 their ridiculous little white shoes, and their heads 
 held up in the most impertinent manner, eyeing their 
 betters. If I had brought up Mr. Battle's daughters 
 to be so bold in their air and carriage I should con- 
 sider that I had been most deficient in my duties as 
 a step-mother." 
 
 " The American women have indeed a most un- 
 common carriage of the head and a quite indescrib- 
 able courage in their eyes. God knows, none of your 
 girls have it," responded Lord Castlemaine. 
 
 " Look," continued Lady Susan, pointing an in- 
 dignant finger at a strip of red carpet spread from 
 the door of the next house across the sidewalk, " I 
 daresay that American now, Seymour, and his 
 daughter next door, are expecting royalty this very 
 evening. The way the King runs about to those 
 American houses is simply disgraceful." 
 
 That no such honour was intended for the Ameri- 
 can neighbours, was now made plain by the appear- 
 ance of a handsome empty brougham at the door. 
 Lord Fermor, who had an eye for a horse, leaned 
 over the balcony with its masses of pale pink hy- 
 drangeas, and noticed the clean-limbed, perfectly 
 matched chestnuts, who stood motionless like bronze 
 horses before the strip of red carpet. 
 
 "Remarkably correct," said Lord Castlemaine, 
 his eye glancing over the whole equipage. 
 
 At that moment the door of the great mansion 
 opened and a lady appeared and walked down the
 
 A MODERN ENGLISHMAN 7 
 
 red carpet to the carriage, where the footman 
 held the door open. She was of medium height, 
 but very slender with a figure of a girl of twenty 
 moulded into an exquisitely fitting white bodice. A 
 filmy billowy train like a cloud floated behind her, 
 and from her skirts peeped, not the small white shoes, 
 abhorred by Lady Battle, but an aggravation of the 
 offence little shoes of cloth of silver, embroidered 
 in pearls. The evening was warm and around her 
 shoulders was only a thin white scarf. The grace of 
 movement, the slight figure, the gentle haughtiness 
 of the upraised, bare, dark head, fixed the attention 
 of Fermor. He had the consciousness of having be- 
 fore seen that face with all its elusive charm, but he 
 could not recall when or where. 
 
 When the lady reached the carriage door, she 
 turned and waved her hand to an elderly gentle- 
 man standing on the balcony of the house. Her face 
 was clearly visible. It was finely finished with deli- 
 cate eyebrows, dark eyelashes over darker eyes and 
 thin red lips. She was not a girl so much was 
 plain although there was about her the char- 
 acteristic girlishness of the American type. Her 
 age hovered somewhere about thirty; she had 
 reached a period that was like the veiled brilliance 
 of a summer noon, when it is neither morning nor 
 evening, but which has the glow of the morning and 
 the melancholy sweetness of the evening. It was dif- 
 ficult to say whether she was beautiful or not, but 
 she radiated charm. So much was this the case that
 
 8 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 Lady Susan was beginning another diatribe against 
 Americans, when it was cut short by the arrival of 
 Lord Castlemaine's brougham, to take him to din- 
 ner at the Prime Minister's. 
 
 The elderly gentleman still lingered in full view on 
 the balcony of the next house. He was as distinc- 
 tively an American as Lord Castlemaine and Fer- 
 mor were Englishmen. His air, grave and suave, his 
 small and slightly stooping figure were not sug- 
 gestive of the American plutocrat, but rather of a 
 man who had suffered some hard blows from the 
 iron hand of destiny. 
 
 Fermor rose and went down the broad imposing 
 stairs with Lord Castlemaine. 
 
 " Perhaps," he said, " you will give me a lift as 
 far as Chester Street, where I am dining. We can 
 save the estate one cab fare anyhow." 
 
 Once inside the brougham Lord Castlemaine, 
 turning full on Fermor, said suddenly : 
 
 " The estate is in rather better case to-day than 
 it was last week. I saw Stratton this morning and 
 he says that the whole matter of King's Lyndon 
 was settled yesterday by Seymour, the American, 
 in half an hour. He went down, looked over the 
 place, came back, and offers to take it on a seven- 
 years' lease with the privilege of buying within six 
 months, paying the whole sixty thousand pounds in 
 cash. That will clean Longstaffe and the town 
 house and leave a balance, and by the blessing of 
 God I shall spend next season at Monte Carlo, like
 
 A MODERN ENGLISHMAN 9 
 
 a gentleman, which I have not been able to do for 
 the past five years. I have no sentiment about 
 King's Lyndon or any other place, thank God." 
 
 Fermor remained silent, his sombre grey eyes 
 fixed before him. He had a sentiment about King's 
 Lyndon. There he was born, and there were clus- 
 tered the few faint recollections of his mother, a 
 pale, silent, devoted creature, who had faded out of 
 life as quietly as she had passed through it. He 
 had been a boy of twenty-three in the Guards when 
 he had agreed to join in cutting the entail. Now 
 twelve years afterward, when he knew what he was 
 doing, he was called upon to take the consequences. 
 The sale of the place would very much diminish his 
 interest in the county, for Fermor had inherited his 
 father's passion for public life. He had always 
 meant to make it his career, but many things, in- 
 cluding lack of money and Flora Bellenden, had pre- 
 vented. Of late, however, a silent change, a wordless 
 revolution, had been going on within him. Perhaps 
 it was because Mrs. Bellenden had reached the stage 
 when she dyed her hair and wrote him incessant and 
 insistent notes a phase which is inevitable in the 
 Flora Bellendens of this world. 
 
 According to logic and general usage Fermor 
 should have hated his father, but he did not. In 
 many respects they were alike, with equal gifts. 
 Fermor was the better balanced of the two, and 
 he had been born in a better age for the mid- Vic- 
 torian age was only a trifling improvement, in mor-
 
 10 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 als and manners, on the early Victorian period which 
 inherited a frightful legacy of corruption from the 
 Georgian era. 
 
 Lord Castlemaine had a few intermittent im- 
 pulses of generosity and affection ; Fermor had a 
 heart. One of these rare impulses of generosity 
 seized upon Lord Castlemaine. He glanced at Fer- 
 mor and observed that he was no longer young; 
 there were fine lines around his eyes and his hair 
 was growing thin on the temples. So far he had 
 been balked of the wish of his heart, to enter Par- 
 liament, and that too for want of money. 
 
 " I said there would be a balance left over if the 
 place is sold, as Stratton considers certain, and I 
 think it only fair that you should have a reasonable 
 sum for your expenses if you wish to stand for the 
 House. From what the doctors say about old 
 Whitby there will be a vacancy pretty soon in the 
 division." 
 
 Fermor, surprised and touched, turned to Lord 
 Castlemaine and said: 
 
 "Thank you." 
 
 It was not much, after all ; but it was more than 
 he expected. It moved both of them so much that, 
 like true-born Britons, they scurried away from the 
 subject by mutual consent. 
 
 " How do you suppose the story leaked out about 
 the lease of King's Lyndon ? " asked Fermor. 
 
 '' Through a woman, of course. They have a devil- 
 ish ingenuity for finding out and betraying secrets.
 
 A MODERN ENGLISHMAN 11 
 
 That is to say, all the sex except your Aunt Susan. 
 Her mind leaks like a sieve, but she couldn't find out 
 anything to save her life. She has not yet discov- 
 ered that none of Joshua Battle's daughters will 
 ever become Countess of Castlemaine. Nevertheless, 
 my boy, you have got to marry money." 
 
 Fermor smiled grimly at this, but made np reply. 
 
 " But not an American," continued Lord Castle- 
 maine energetically. " With that ridiculous Ameri- 
 can daughter-worship, the American father keeps 
 a tight rein on his daughter's money and expects 
 everything he gives her to be used for her sole bene- 
 fit." 
 
 " Perhaps Birmingham would be better, after all," 
 answered Fermor, laughing. 
 
 And soon they had reached Chester Street, the 
 brougham pulled up and Lord Fermor got out. 
 Lord Castlemaine gave no indication that he knew 
 Fermor was going to Mrs. Bellenden's house to din- 
 ner. He had large tolerance in such matters, re- 
 quiring much indulgence himself, but, like all men of 
 his kind, although he condoned the lapses of his fel- 
 lowman toward women, he never thought the par- 
 ticular woman in the game worth the candle.
 
 THERE was a big dinner on at the Prime Minister's, 
 and when Lord Castlemaine entered the first of the 
 three great drawing-rooms it seemed quite full of per- 
 sons. He was among the last arrivals and the 
 hostess immediately began apportioning the ladies 
 to the gentlemen who were to take them down to din- 
 ner. Lord Castlemaine, on whom was bestowed a 
 dowager duchess, caught the sound of a name be- 
 hind him, Madame Fontarini, whom Marsac, one of 
 the secretaries of the French Embassy, was invited 
 to hand down. Madame Fontarini proved to be 
 the lady of the white gown and silver shoes. 
 
 Lord Castlemaine had a photographic mind, and 
 while listening with a grin to the duchess's artless 
 prattle as they moved down the splendid staircase, 
 he was rapidly assembling enough facts to identify 
 Madame Fontarini. It was one of the best names 
 in Roman society, belonging to the " Black " sec- 
 tion. There was a Cardinal Fontarini who had a 
 nephew, Pietro, a scamp of the first water, and said 
 to be the handsomest young man in Rome. Ten or 
 twelve years before this Pietro married a young 
 American girl with a great fortune. The posses- 
 sion of money had made Pietro Fontarini a worse 
 
 19
 
 THEODORA Id 
 
 man than ever before, and after a stormy career, of 
 a few years, which narrowly verged on crime, he 
 had died of his excesses. Lord Castlemaine never 
 remembered to have heard the name of Fontarini's 
 wife mentioned since her husband's death, but he 
 thought the chances were that this Madame Fonta- 
 rini was the lady in question. He was rather pleased 
 when he found his left-hand neighbour at the long 
 and glittering table to be Madame Fontarini. 
 
 Lord Castlemaine was a connoisseur in feminine 
 beauty, as well as in horses, although no woman 
 could acquire an ascendency over him any more 
 than could the finest steed of Araby. One compre- 
 hensive glance at Madame Fontarini showed that 
 she could stand the closest inspection. If the di- 
 rector of the Grand Opera at Paris had studied 
 how to show her off to the greatest advantage he 
 could not have chosen better. All the women pres- 
 ent were of the large high-coloured type, dressed 
 chiefly in heavy satins and velvets, and blazing with 
 jewels which added splendour to the mise en scene 
 of the noble apartment, the magnificent dinner- 
 table radiant with lights and flowers and the serv- 
 ants in gorgeous liveries of maroon and gold. 
 Madame Fontarini was by no means the handsomest 
 woman present, but unquestionably the most dis- 
 tinguished in appearance. With her dark hair, white 
 skin, and delicately cut features she looked like a 
 cameo in an exhibition of terra-cotta busts. Her 
 filmy white gown, with its billows of lace, made the
 
 14, THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 other women look as if they were upholstered. Noth- 
 ing sparkled upon her gown or in her hair, but 
 around her slender throat was an antique pearl 
 necklace. This absence of jewels gave the effect of 
 disdaining rivalry and calmly assuming superiority. 
 Her dark hair, in which there were a few silver 
 threads, was dressed as simply as a wood nymph's, 
 whose only mirror is the fountain of the forest. The 
 hair of the other women was dressed most elaborately 
 and gave Lord Castlemaine the impression that they 
 had bought their heads out of a hairdresser's win- 
 dow. 
 
 Before he had finished his soup he began a con- 
 versation with Madame Fontarini. Circumstances 
 favoured him, for the duchess was frankly afraid of 
 him and openly preferred the ambassador on the 
 other side. 
 
 "I think we are neighbours," said Lord Castle- 
 maine. 
 
 " Yes," responded Madame Fontarini, turning 
 upon him her large, clear, dark gaze, " I have 
 known you by sight ever since we took our London 
 house," then she added, smiling, " and also by name. 
 You are Lord Castlemaine." 
 
 "And you are Madame Fontarini," said Lord 
 Castlemaine. " I knew a cardinal of that name while 
 in Rome years ago." 
 
 " He was my husband's uncle," replied Madame 
 Fontarini. She spoke quietly enough, but there was 
 an expression upon her mobile face and a note in
 
 THEODORA 15 
 
 her voice which gave warning that the subject was 
 not to be pursued. 
 
 " I always liked the Romans, but I own I never 
 could understand them," continued Lord Castle- 
 maine, shying away from the personal note. 
 
 " No one can, except a Roman," answered Ma- 
 dame Fontarini quietly. " I spent six years of my 
 married life in Italy. I knew the Italians little 
 in the beginning; I knew them still less in the 
 end." 
 
 " The modern Italians, you mean. We all 
 know the old fellows who harangued in the Capitol, 
 and sought office worse than a Liberal ironmonger 
 with a pot of money." Lord Castlemaine had in 
 mind his brother-in-law, Joshua Battle, who had 
 visions of being a Lord of the Admiralty or possibly 
 Postmaster-general and who was egged on by Lady 
 Susan. " And the generals who took good care that 
 their campaigns in Gaul and Africa should be known 
 to the Senators." 
 
 " And the Romans of the Middle Ages," said Ma- 
 dame Fontarini. " I think they had not learned so 
 much of artifice as the Italians of to-day." 
 
 " Oh, my dear lady, yes they had. Machiavelli 
 says, you know, that the French always beat the 
 Italians in war and then the Italians beat the 
 French in diplomacy." 
 
 " Perhaps it is because I am an American that I 
 understand Romans so little, nor any of the Italians, 
 for that matter," was Madame Fontarini's response.
 
 16 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 '* You know they are very diverse, just as the French- 
 men of the North differ from the Frenchmen of the 
 South, and the Parisian is a type by himself." 
 
 " I see you know Europe well. You are among the 
 Americans who pay us the compliment of preferring 
 to live among us." 
 
 " Pray acquit me of the bad taste of preferring 
 any other country to my own," replied Madame 
 Fontarini, softly smiling, but decisive. " My father's 
 affairs have made it necessary for many years past 
 that he should live abroad. We are established in 
 England for the rest of our lives, as far as we can 
 now see, and we hope and expect to like it, but we 
 do not belong to the class of voluntarily expatriated 
 Americans. It is my father's particular quarrel 
 with Fate that he cannot live in America, but we 
 have determined to make the best of our enforced 
 residence in England." 
 
 Lord Castlemaine opened his eyes at this. He 
 never remembered hearing the same sentiments from 
 any of the numerous Americans who had great town 
 and country houses in England. Madame Fonta- 
 rini's air of gentle courtesy robbed the words of 
 anything like impertinence, but it tickled Lord 
 Castlemaine that she should speak of a residence 
 in England as a sacrifice which she was prepared to 
 make gracefully. 
 
 Then her neighbour, Marsac, claimed her atten- 
 tion. He was a handsome, vivacious Frenchman, 
 who had made his way by wit and good sense from
 
 THEODORA 17 
 
 the ranks of working journalists in Paris, to be 
 secretary of the Embassy at London. He was 
 evidently charmed with Madame Fontarini, and her 
 smiles and soft laughter showed that she was not 
 insensible to his brilliant attractions. It was a quar- 
 ter of an hour before Lord Castlemaine had an op- 
 portunity to strike into the conversation again. 
 Marsac and Madame Fontarini were discussing 
 country life in England, and Madame Fontarini 
 turned to Lord Castlemaine. 
 
 " It is all changed," he said ; " country life in 
 England was the finest thing in the world when the 
 late Queen was snubbing Sir Robert Peel, and peo- 
 ple waited for good weather to cross the Channel. 
 Then the great houses were occupied all the year 
 round, except for two months during the season. 
 Now the more great houses there are in a given 
 locality the worse off it is for society. Half the peo- 
 ple are off yachting, or on the Continent, or in 
 [America or South Africa. The other half depend 
 upon London to furnish them with guests for week- 
 end parties. For my part I fly in the face of all 
 tradition and say London is the place, after all." 
 
 " Yes," put in Marsac, " London is England, but 
 all of you have not yet waked up to the fact." 
 
 " I have," replied Lord Castlemaine, laughing. 
 " London is the only place in England where men 
 are found in appreciable numbers." 
 
 " I have noticed no lack of them," said Madame 
 Fontarini.
 
 48 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 " Of course not," answered Lord Castlemaine gal- 
 lantly, " * Where the bee sucks,' etc., but I predict 
 you will like the town better than the country in 
 the end." 
 
 " Pray," said Marsac, " do not disparage country 
 life to Madame Fontarini, who has been telling 
 me of the pleasure she expects in the country house 
 which her father, Mr. Seymour, has leased. I was 
 just begging her for an invitation to visit her as 
 soon as she is established as chatelaine." 
 
 Madame Fontarini remained silent ; the allusion 
 was somewhat awkward, as she knew Lord Castle- 
 maine to be the owner of King's Lyndon, but that 
 unabashed person responded at once : 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Seymour has done me the favour to 
 lease a place of mine, King's Lyndon. I wish him 
 joy of it," he added, smiling to Madame Fontarini, 
 " and in particular, I don't wish, in case the place 
 is given up, that it shall be restored to me in exactly 
 the condition in which I let him have it." 
 
 The duchess then claimed Lord Castlemaine's at- 
 tention, desiring! to know what kind! of soil he 
 thought best adapted to developing the colour of hy- 
 drangeas. Lord Castlemaine, who did not know a 
 hydrangea from a turnip, gravely advanced an 
 opinion that a light soil heavily imbued with phos- 
 phates would cause a hydrangea to grow blue. He 
 talked so learnedly on the subject that the duchess, 
 as usual, suspected him to be laughing in has sleeve, 
 a suspicion which became a conviction when Lord
 
 THEODORA 19 
 
 Castlemaine assured her of his passion for attending" 
 flower shows. 
 
 In the midst of it, Lord Castlemaine caught a 
 ripple of laughter from Madame Fontarini. 
 Marsac was telling her some of his escapades in 
 Paris, when he and his friend, Fontaine, played the 
 famous trick of an imaginary uncle Maurice, who 
 turned out to be a real person. Lord Castlemaine 
 glanced at Madame Fontarini, whose style was dis- 
 tinctively il penseroso. Her eyes were sparkling, 
 and an elusive dimple showed in her pale cheek. 
 She was like a fountain in the heart of the for- 
 est, on which the sunshine suddenly strikes, turning 
 its shadowed beauty into a glory of laughing bright- 
 ness. Lord Castlemaine was surprised at himself for 
 turning so frequently toward her. He often found 
 American women amusing, but not always interest- 
 ing in the highest degree, and she was slightly dif- 
 ferent from any American woman that he had 
 so far met. He wondered if she had the charac- 
 teristic American humour, and presently, satisfied 
 himself that she had. 
 
 Marsac, who was a brilliant talker, continued 
 to absorb so much of Madame Fontarini's attention 
 that Lord Castlemaine, at sixty-five years of age, 
 felt himself chagrined for the first time in forty 
 years that another man had beaten him out in the 
 good graces of a charming woman at dinner. 
 
 Meanwhile, Fermor's adventures were quite dif- 
 ferent from Lord Castlemaine's. He had arrived
 
 20 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 in Chester Street ten minutes in advance of the 
 time, and strolled down a side street where he could 
 not be seen from Mrs. Bellenden's window. He had 
 experienced a great deal of that unauthorised hen- 
 pecking which women like Mrs. Bellenden fall into 
 invariably. She would be certain, if she saw him, to 
 reproach him bitterly for neglecting the opportu- 
 nity of a ten-minute tete-a-tete with her, as well as 
 for other neglected opportunities. So Fermor de- 
 termined that she should not see him, if he could 
 help it. As he walked around the square, he saw in 
 advance of him, another man, like himself marking 
 time before dinner. It was Ashburton, his best, and, 
 Fermor thought sometimes, his only friend. Ashbur- 
 ton had exchanged into a line regiment, alleging 
 that he could not afford the Guards, as his mother 
 and sisters had but a scanty income. Fermor reck- 
 oned this conduct on Ashburton's part to be one of 
 heroic virtue and ever afterward felt himself hon- 
 oured by Ashburton's friendship. During a long 
 service in India, Ashburton had kept up an inter- 
 mittent correspondence with Fermor. Then suddenly 
 Ashburton inherited a considerable fortune. His 
 mother was dead, his sisters married, and he resigned 
 from the army. He kept modest chambers in Lon- 
 don, frequented the "Rag," and did nothing so far 
 as Fermor knew in the way of spending his money. 
 
 Flora Bellenden had contrived to meet Ashburton 
 by a cleverly arranged accident, but in spite of her 
 most determined efforts Ashburton declined to call
 
 THEODORA 21 
 
 in Chester Street. He went out occasionally in soci- 
 ety, a silent, plain man, who bestowed his atten- 
 tion chiefly on elderly dowagers and neglected spin- 
 sters. Fermor often wondered what Ashburton did 
 with his time, his money, and himself. As the two 
 men caught sight of each other at the same moment, 
 Ashburton pulled out his watch. 
 
 " Twenty-two minutes past," he said ; " we have 
 eight minutes more." 
 
 " I can stand the delay," said Fermor. 
 
 He was in a very bad humour and not averse to 
 showing it. Ashburton grinned. He could put two 
 and two together, and as in his heart he loved Fer- 
 mor, he was glad to observe that Mrs. Bellenden was 
 growing to be an almost intolerable bore to him. 
 They talked a moment or two, walking together, 
 then they came to a wall with an iron gate in it. 
 Through the iron bars they could see a small garden, 
 and the open glass doors revealed a large, plain 
 room with two or three men in clerical dress seated 
 about it reading or writing. 
 
 " Look," said Ashburton to Fermor, " those are 
 the men who live, after all. They are the priests of 
 a Catholic parish around here. It is a poor parish, 
 I believe, the parishioners being generally servants 
 and small shopkeepers. These men rise at five 
 o'clock, dine at one, and the day's work is over for 
 them at seven. I know them all. That short, grey- 
 haired one was a chaplain in my regiment in India. 
 He broke down and came home, and he now thinks he
 
 22 THE MARRIAGE OE THEODORA 
 
 is in Paradise, with a parish of his own and a roof 
 over his head and a hundred pounds a year. He 
 is the man I envy and would wish to imitate." 
 
 Fermor was surprised. There were times when 
 even the most reserved of men feel the need of con- 
 fidence, and that hour seemed to have come for 
 Ashburton. It was as if he were looking for some- 
 one to whom he should open his heart when this 
 brief, accidental meeting with Fermor occurred ; and 
 with Fermor it was the same. He, too, had one of 
 those rare moments of expansion, but there was now 
 no time for confidences. 
 
 "Will you be going to the reception at Peter- 
 sham House to-night ? " Ashburton asked Fermor. 
 
 " Yes, if you are there we can walk back together. 
 Like you, I fancy the quiet streets at night." 
 
 Then Fermor turned away and in three minutes 
 more was bowing over Mrs. Bellenden's hand in her 
 drawing-room. 
 
 She was very tall and fair and had been the 
 beauty of her season, and might have been a beauty 
 still but for the obvious artificiality of her gold-col- 
 oured hair, her pencilled eyebrows and the touch 
 of rouge upon her cheeks; all of which are things 
 that cannot be concealed. Her manner was drama- 
 tic, just as her appearance was spectacular, and she 
 was slightly in advance of the age in every respect. 
 She motored, shot, rode, did everything with an in- 
 tensity which befitted her role of a beautiful, des- 
 perate and neglected wife. Bellenden, a handsome,
 
 fHEODORA 23 
 
 stupid country gentleman of modest fortune, who 
 was completely dislocated by being transplanted to 
 London, loved his wife, shut his eyes to her conduct, 
 obeyed her implicitly and was mortally afraid of her. 
 To Fermor, Mrs. Bellenden assumed to have lived a 
 life of domestic bliss with Bellenden until Fermor 
 crossed her orbit. As a matter of fact Fermor was 
 the fourth or fifth man whom Flora Bellenden had 
 beguiled. The others had broken away from her in 
 time. She held on tenaciously to Fermor, her first 
 youth being past, and he, being more of a gentle- 
 man at heart than the other men, had refrained from 
 throwing her off. She bitterly resented having been 
 married to Bellenden in her first season, believing 
 that she could have married a duke if only she had 
 been properly jockeyed. 
 
 In default of that she meant to be, if possible, 
 the next Countess of Castlemaine. Not that Fer- 
 mor had ever said so much. He was not wholly 
 bad, nor wholly good, but he respected his name 
 and he respected also a faint shadowy memory of 
 his mother. There was a time in the beginning 
 when Flora Bellenden's beauty bewitched him and 
 when he believed the stories she told him with dra- 
 matic force of the injuries she suffered at Bellenden's 
 hands. These were long since exploded and Fermor 
 felt a kind of grotesque sympathy with the un- 
 lucky Tom Bellenden. 
 
 Nothing is more difficult than for a man, with a 
 show of decency, to rid himself of a woman like
 
 24 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 Flora Bellenden. It was in vain that Fermor 
 showed her the door; she would not go out. Act- 
 ually, Flora Bellenden was as much in love with 
 Fermor as a woman of her kind can be in love with 
 a man. She admired his long, graceful body, his 
 agreeable voice, the little touch of coolness about 
 him in all he said and did. He interested her and 
 piqued her; and infuriated her, and without him 
 she was bored. Above all, he could make her some 
 day Countess of Castlemaine, provided a divorce 
 could be arranged between Tom Bellenden and her- 
 self. But on this point Fermor maintained a grim 
 silence. He was not credited with many scruples, 
 but he had a scruple, backed by an adamantine prej- 
 udice, against marrying a divorced woman. 
 
 For more than two years past a deep and silent 
 resentment had been steadily growing in his mind 
 against Mrs. Bellenden. The sophistries were melt- 
 ing away and he saw her as she was. But that did 
 not make it any easier for him to refuse her invita- 
 tions, avoid her, and, in short, to be rid of her. He 
 had reached that point when any strong influence 
 brought to bear upon him would have made him 
 break with Flora Bellenden. So far there had been 
 no such influence, except his own disillusionment. 
 That was now complete. 
 
 Another fact was fixed. He hated divorces and 
 the divorced. For this, he could give no particular 
 explanation any more than he could for the unvary- 
 ing force of gravitation. But it had grown and de-
 
 THEODORA 25 
 
 veloped in him, first from the determination not to 
 make Flora Bellenden his wife until he reached the 
 point of resolving never to marry a divorced woman. 
 
 As he took his hostess down to dinner, followed by 
 half a dozen other couples, and watched her preside 
 at her own table, he thought he had never seen a 
 woman with less personal dignity. The dinner was 
 bad, and Mrs. Bellenden lost her temper with the 
 soup and did not recover it until the dessert ap- 
 peared. Poor Tom Bellenden, patient and shame- 
 faced, bore it all with a kind of stupid dignity. 
 
 When dinner was over Fermor reckoned upon slip- 
 ping out and getting off to Petersham House, 
 leaving an excuse for his hostess. The Fates, how- 
 ever, would not have it so. Mrs. Bellenden was go- 
 ing to Petersham House too, and having intimated 
 so much, her guests left early and she appeared in 
 the smoking-room, where Fermor and Bellenden sat 
 smoking. There was an assumption of friendship 
 between the two men to which honest, stupid Tom 
 Bellenden hung on tenaciously. 
 
 "Will you be going to Petersham House?" Mrs. 
 Bellenden asked of Fermor. "Of course it will be 
 a bore to Tom and he will be glad enough if you can 
 take me in a hansom." 
 
 " Oh, no, it won't be a bore," said Bellenden sud- 
 denly, " I'll take you, Flora." 
 
 " And drag me home within half an hour." 
 
 " I will stay as long as you like." 
 
 Mrs. Bellenden glanced from her husband to Fer-
 
 26 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 mor and back, with vexation in her heart. Fermor's 
 look was unmistakably one of relief. 
 
 " Then I won't detain you," he said, rising. " I 
 have got to look in for half an hour and I shall see 
 you there. Meanwhile, au revoir." 
 
 Once out in the street Fermor swore at himself 
 with heart and soul. The time had come when he 
 could stand no more of Flora Bellenden. She bored 
 him, she annoyed him, she humiliated him. He hud 
 been to blame too, but, looking the matter in the 
 face, he saw that interest and a sordid ambition 
 were at the bottom of all that Flora Bellenden 
 professed for him. He had been as lavish of money 
 to her as he could ; indeed, there was a kind of virtue 
 in the way he had denied himself, in order that this 
 harpy of a woman could not at least call him mean. 
 She had wrested from him more than money she 
 had contaminated his life, balked his honest ambi- 
 tions and made him, at thirty-five, a mere pawn 
 upon the chess-board. But it should be so no longer. 
 These thoughts were bitter, but in them was a kind 
 of elation which comes from a strong purpose reso- 
 lutely embraced. Henceforth, he was a free man. 
 He would go into public life, he would take up the 
 responsibilities of his position, and he would live 
 uprightly.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 REGENERATION 
 
 FERMOR'S head was full of these thoughts when he 
 came to the door of Petersham House. It was splen- 
 didly illuminated and the great staircase was 
 blocked with half London in gala dress. In the 
 midst of the crowd, the lights, the gorgeousness, the 
 thought that he had broken his chains was still in 
 Fermor's mind, and gave a new animation to his 
 somewhat cold and impassive face. He reached his 
 hostess, paid her the compliments of the evening, and 
 then made his way through the crowded rooms, 
 speaking to acquaintances right and left. He no- 
 ticed how blooming many of the girls looked with 
 that rose-like English freshness; he had enough of 
 painted women. He experienced a strange, new feel- 
 ing almost like happiness. The people about him, 
 who in general had no interest for him, suddenly 
 grew interesting. He saw, or thought he saw, in 
 them, minds at ease, energies well directed, good 
 relations between man and man; between man and 
 woman. The sense of freedom became a dumb ex- 
 hilaration. He was self-contained, but not cold, 
 and, like rnot human beings who can think, he could 
 also feel. 
 
 Mrs. Bellenden, he knew, had arrived, and in com- 
 87
 
 28 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 mon decency he must speak to her sometime dur- 
 ing the evening. An hour passed, however, be- 
 fore he began to look for her. Then he caught 
 sight of her tall figure at the farther end of the 
 three superb drawing-rooms. He felt no unwill- 
 ingness at going to her, because he was sure that 
 in some way he could make his new resolve known to 
 her, and believed by her. When he had got within 
 a few feet of her, he noticed standing, close by, the 
 lady of the white gown and silver shoes, whom he had 
 seen get into the carriage earlier in the evening. She 
 was in front of an open window, her graceful head 
 and delicate contours outlined against the dark 1 
 foliage of a tree that was almost pushing its way 
 into the opening. Again Fermor had the feeling of 
 reminiscence, of a vague, unplaced memory of her. 
 As at the dinner, Madame Fontarini's surroundings 
 accentuated her soft and pensive beauty. She was 
 speaking with Marsac and his wife, an agreeable 
 Frenchwoman, and her air was exquisitely gracious. 
 From Madame Fontarini, Fermor glanced toward 
 Mrs. Bellenden. Never had Flora Bellenden looked 
 so artificial, so wholly demoralised, as at this mo- 
 ment. She was engaged in a running fire of rather 
 pronounced conversation with two or three men 
 who were laughing at her bold sallies. She wore 
 an air of triumph as she saw Fermor, as much as to 
 say: 
 
 " See, I can keep men around me." 
 
 Fermor, with a bow and smile, that implied
 
 REGENERATION 29 
 
 " You are too much engaged for me to intrude my- 
 self," turned and spoke to Marsac and Madame 
 Marsac. They were very cordial and Fermor found 
 himself in the same group with his next-door neigh- 
 bour. 
 
 At her first words he perceived that she was an 
 American. Her accent, although perfectly correct, 
 had the subtle, transatlantic difference. So had her 
 conversation. The group talked together for a few 
 minutes, closely watched by Mrs. Bellenden. Seeing 
 that Fermor was in no hurry to come to her, she dis- 
 missed her court and walked up to him. She knew 
 Marsac, as she knew everybody in London, and to 
 him she immediately began : 
 
 " You have treated me shamefully of late. You 
 have not once been to me on Sunday, and I am think- 
 ing of cutting you out of my motoring party to 
 Richmond next week." 
 
 Marsac, who was the embodiment of gentlemanly 
 impudence, replied smiling: 
 
 " Thanks, Mrs. Bellenden, but I did not know 
 that I was in your motoring party." 
 
 Instantly a kind of chill fell upon the group, 
 which had been talking so pleasantly before. Ma- 
 dame Fontarini moved off, shaking hands with Ma- 
 dame Marsac, whom she asked to luncheon with her 
 the next week, and bowing gracefully to Marsac 
 and Fermor. Marsac, as if to emphasise his snub 
 to Mrs. Bellenden, asked plaintively of Madame 
 Fontarini :
 
 30 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 " Do you mean to ask my wife to luncheon and 
 leave me out? I feel sure it is an unintentional 
 omission." 
 
 Madame Fontarini shook her head with smiling 
 resolution. 
 
 " You are too brilliant and entertaining," she said ; 
 " when you are present Madame Marsac and I do 
 nothing but listen to you, and forget all that we 
 intended to say to each other. No, I shall not let 
 you come to luncheon Tuesday." 
 
 Mrs. Bellenden advanced a step and attempted 
 to engage Marsac in conversation. She liked to be 
 seen talking with him, as he was reckoned one of 
 the great wits of the diplomatic corps. But Marsac, 
 with perfectly well-bred diplomacy, slipped off, after 
 having given her a parting shot, which might be 
 delicate trifling, or else scathing impertinence. Mrs. 
 Bellenden chose to take it as the latter. 
 
 Anger generally turns women into fools, and this 
 was the case with Mrs. Bellenden at that moment. 
 
 " I think," she said to Fermor, " under the cir- 
 cumstances, that I have a right to ask you to show 
 Marsac he cannot address me in that manner with 
 impunity." 
 
 Mrs. Bellenden had spoken in low tones and 
 Fermor and herself were far enough apart from the 
 rest of the throng not to be overheard. Neverthe- 
 less, instinctively they moved toward the conserva- 
 tory at the farthest end of the room. Fermor, hav- 
 ing taken his resolution, was glad of an oppor- 
 tunity to put it into execution. The man in him
 
 REGENERATION 31 
 
 rose and overpowered the gentleman. Looking Mrs. 
 Bellenden in the eye, he replied suavely: 
 
 " I shall do no such thing." 
 
 The blood poured into Flora Bellenden's face un- 
 der the rouge upon her cheeks. 
 
 " Do you mean " she stammered. 
 
 " Exactly what I say," answered Fermor. 
 
 There was a pause, and the other persons in the 
 room, glancing toward the two, saw that Mrs. Bel- 
 lenden was red and Fermor pale. 
 
 "Will you come to me to-morrow morning?" she 
 asked hurriedly. 
 
 " Certainly," said Fermor, *' and for the last 
 time." 
 
 Then, by mutual consent, they turned back to- 
 ward the groups of persons standing about the well- 
 filled rooms. 
 
 The man and the woman had reached the parting 
 of the ways, and the moment had come, with a 
 shock, suddenly, and at the most inappropriate of 
 times. The elemental passions are all unmannerly 
 and take no heed of man's convenience, or woman's, 
 either. 
 
 One person present had observed, and understood, 
 the whole scene between Fermor and Mrs. Bellenden, 
 which seemed a mere casual conversation. This was 
 Lord Castlemaine, who said to himself for the hun- 
 dredth time: 
 
 " Fermor will have a reckoning yet with Mrs. Bel- 
 lenden. God forgives and men forget, but women 
 never do either."
 
 32 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 There was a fourth hand, the devil, in the compli- 
 cation with Bellenden and his wife and Lord Fer- 
 mor, for in the perilous game of progressive pas- 
 sion the devil is on hand at the beginning, the middle 
 and the end. 
 
 Then Fermor, saying good-by to those about him, 
 including Mrs. Bellenden, went out of the room, 
 passing his father. There was a laughing devil in 
 Lord Castlemaine's eye which reinforced Fermor's 
 resolution, already strong, to break for ever with 
 Flora Bellenden. He had made a fool of himself 
 for the last time about her, or any other woman. 
 He longed to get out of the crowded and heated 
 rooms, into the chill, fresh air of the night, and to 
 have the companionship of a man like Ashburton, 
 single-minded, and simple-hearted. He caught sight 
 of Ashburton in the drawing-room and signalled to 
 him, and the two men left at the same time. 
 
 The night was sharp, for June, and they struck 
 off at a rapid gait through the quiet streets. Neither 
 man spoke, although each was in the mood to make 
 and receive confidences. Presently they found them- 
 selves walking past the locked gates of the Park, 
 through which could be discerned the black masses 
 of the trees, and the wide expanse of grass upon 
 which a silvery moon threw dappled shadows. A 
 cool night wind was blowing up the river from the 
 salt seas. It rustled the tree-tops, which whispered 
 anxiously among themselves, in the cool, mysterious 
 night.
 
 REGENERATION 33 
 
 " Come, my boy," said Ashburton, " you are go- 
 ing too fast for me. Let's halt a while." 
 
 Fermor stood still and looked meditatively down 
 upon the ground, his hands in his pockets. It was 
 long after midnight, every house in sight was dark, 
 and except the occasional rolling of a belated cab or 
 carriage, there was no sound to break the silence of 
 the streets. 
 
 " I did not know I was racing," he said ; " the 
 truth is I feel a sense of relief, of escape, that a man 
 naturally takes out in walking. I am a free man, 
 Ashburton, free from this night forward." 
 
 No name passed between them, but Ashburton 
 understood in a flash what Fermor meant. To make 
 sure, however, he asked deliberately: 
 
 " Free to marry, do you mean ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Fermor, " not that I am thinking 
 of it ; far from it. But I am free to do it now, the 
 first time in ten years. I have given up the Capuan 
 delights. I have other matters on hand. There will 
 probably be a bye-election in Midlandshire within 
 a month, and I shall stand for the seat. You know 
 my desire has always been to go into public life, 
 but I had not the money, or had other uses for it. 
 Now the chance has come, after ten of my best years 
 are gone." 
 
 " Yours is only the average loss in a man's life," 
 replied Ashburton ; " mine is much greater. I knew 
 very well what to do with my life when I had a small 
 allowance and a mother and sisters who needed help.
 
 34 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 Then, all at once, a lot of money came to me, and 
 those who had just claims on me no longer needed 
 help. I think I was free-handed enough, but I 
 was not such a fool as to begin the wholesale demor- 
 alisation of all the young men in my family, by hand- 
 ing them out money. I tried to help them judi- 
 ciously. I don't think any of my gifts hurt them. 
 But then came the great question after doing for 
 others, what to do for myself? I am not an idealist, 
 like you, but a practical man, a soldier, a man 
 strongly addicted to order and discipline. When I 
 wake up in the morning at seven o'clock, I wish to 
 know what I shall do at nine, twelve, six, that day. 
 I like to execute orders in detail." 
 
 " It is that spirit which fills the Trappist monas- 
 teries with ex-military men," replied Fermor with 
 a smile, looking at Ashburton's strong, homely face, 
 which the keen and piercing expression redeemed 
 from commonplaceness. 
 
 " I felt myself a part of the great machinery of 
 the universe. I know that idea has been expressed 
 grandly and poetically, before. I don't trouble my- 
 self about the universe, it is this England of ours, 
 this town of London, that concerns me. I wish to 
 be doing something here under orders from a supe- 
 rior, not from a board of managers I never believed 
 in councils of war. When things have got to that 
 pass that the commanding general does not know 
 what is best to do it is time to put another man in 
 his place. A month ago I met the man I showed
 
 REGENERATION 35 
 
 you this evening Brown, who had been a chaplain 
 in my regiment. Good working name, that of 
 Brown. I made him talk about himself. I swear 
 to you, Fermor, I long to change places with Brown. 
 But, see the good sense of the whole system. They 
 choose their recruits just as we choose ours in the 
 army. I was too old. I did not have the spirit of 
 a postulant. I did not wish to learn, but to do." 
 
 Ashburton's ordinary face was lighted up, not so 
 much with enthusiasm as with resolution. His voice 
 grew tense like a man describing conditions to a 
 subordinate. Fermor listened intently. He, him- 
 self, wished to be, more than to do, but he under- 
 stood Ashburton's next words. 
 
 '* I wish to do, not to be. It is said of Christ 
 that He went about doing good, not merely being 
 good. This being good is a matter of great uncer- 
 tainty to everybody, including the individual man 
 himself. I found I could join the Third Order of 
 St. Francis and yet remain in the world, for I am no 
 ascetic, no dreamer, not the man to dig in a mon- 
 astery garden. I like my club, I wish to live like 
 a gentleman, though without extravagance, and to 
 put me in a cassock would be to turn me into a 
 hypocrite. A fortnight ago I made my resolve and 
 went and told Brown, a practical fellow and not 
 given to talk, about it. I don't think altogether we 
 have spoken ten minutes upon the subject, but I am 
 now a member of the Third Order of St. Francis and 
 I have something to do, and I do it."
 
 86 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 "What is it?" asked Fermor, deeply interested. 
 " The idealist, you know, must give us something 
 practical and the practical man must give us some- 
 thing ideal." 
 
 " I found something practical immediately. A 
 couple of poor devils at Aldershot got in a drunken 
 row and gave a publican a blow, from which he 
 died. I went down, by Brown's orders, and saw 
 those men in the military prison. At first they both 
 protested their innocence, which was a lie, and I 
 knew it. Before I left one had broken down what 
 do I say? He had risen up to the full stature of 
 a man and said to me, ' I did it, sir, my pal had 
 nothing to do with it.' And the other fellow, not 
 to be outdone in generosity, proposed to lie like a 
 horse, when the trial came on, in order to save his 
 comrade." 
 
 Ashburton gave a short laugh. The form which 
 self-sacrifice took in the trooper's primitive mind 
 was amusing enough. 
 
 " After that success I began to wonder whether 
 I could speak to you, Fermor, about things in your 
 life, which needed mending. I talked with Brown 
 about it and he said ' No ' flatfooted. He accused 
 me of having the zeal of a convert, which made me 
 swear at him. But see you have spoken to me. 
 You have broken away from the things that held you 
 back." 
 
 " But it was not from any impulse of goodness," 
 replied Fermor. " I am sick of the whole business."
 
 REGENERATION 37 
 
 " Never mind, you have broken away. There is 
 daylight ahead for you." 
 
 Without saying another word they resumed their 
 walk together. Fifteen minutes brought them to 
 the open space of Queen's Gate. Ashburton, with 
 a brief " Good-night " turned into one of the small 
 side streets, while Fermor went on to where the great 
 houses stood dark and massive in the night of black 
 shadows and white moonlight. He felt a powerful 
 influence at work within him. Ashburton, he had al- 
 ways liked and respected, and the simple and prac- 
 tical nature of the man made him a good guide. It 
 was as if in starting upon a difficult and hazardous 
 journey, he had found a travelling companion upon 
 whom he could rely. 
 
 Fermor let himself into the great dark house 
 and made his way to the smoking-room in the back. 
 There he found Lord Castlemaine. It was an un- 
 welcome jar in his present mood. Lord Castlemaine 
 was the farthest man on earth removed from Ash- 
 burton. . 
 
 Lord Castlemaine had been trained in the school 
 of selfishness formed by the law of primogeniture. 
 It was remarkable that so much of generosity re- 
 mained in him that he would occasionally, as in the 
 matter of Fermor's election expenses, deprive him- 
 self of anything whatever. He did not, however, re- 
 gret his promise in this instance, but it rather 
 inspired him with the wish to do something more for 
 Fermor,
 
 .38 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 Lord Castlemaine, stretched out on the broad 
 leather lounge, was watching the blue wreaths of 
 smoke from a strong cigar. Fermor, sitting in a 
 great arm chair, trifled with a cigarette. Lord 
 Castlemaine, whose eye was always seeking to be 
 pleased, looked at his heir with approval. Fermor 
 could not be described as handsome Lord Castle- 
 maine hated what is called beauty in a man but 
 Fermor was thorough-bred, with all the marks of 
 race upon him. This reflection gave Lord Castle- 
 maine the opening he desired. 
 
 " I am thinking," he said, " of starting a mission- 
 ary society to show women how to make the best of 
 their beauty and the least of their ugliness. This 
 fashion of dyed hair among women is enough to 
 drive any man into voluntary celibacy like St. 
 Paul." 
 
 Fermor said nothing, but lighted another ciga- 
 rette: 
 
 " You know how one of the American comic jour- 
 nals described the modern woman, ' A woman of 
 sixty, who looks fifty; who thinks she is forty; 
 dresses like she is thirty; and acts like she is 
 twenty.' This exactly describes one-half the women 
 I saw to-night." 
 
 " Most Americans are amusing," said Fermor, 
 thinking this a safe and general proposition. 
 
 " I sat next one to-night at dinner who could not 
 be called amusing, but who was most interesting. 
 Oddly enough she turned out to be the daughter of
 
 REGENERATION 39 
 
 Seymour, who lives in the next house, and who in 
 God's good time, I hope, will become the purchaser 
 of King's Lyndon. She is the lady whom we saw 
 get into the carriage this evening." 
 
 Fermor recalled her with faint interest, his mind 
 being on other things. 
 
 " She is a Madame Fontarini. Did you ever hear, 
 in Rome, of that Pietro Fontarini, nephew of the 
 Cardinal., and who was known as a bad hat from the 
 beginning? " 
 
 " Yes," answered Fermor, " I recollect now, the 
 last time I was in Rome, six or seven years ago, hear- 
 ing of a frightful thing about Pietro Fontarini, and 
 I also now recall that his wife was an American. 
 There was a boy, an only child, about five years 
 old. One day during Madame Fontarini's absence 
 Fontarini took the child out and was gone several 
 hours. The weather was bad and when the little 
 fellow came back he had a violent chill and died 
 within a week. It turned out that Fontarini had 
 him driving for several hours, up and down the 
 Pincio, in an open carriage with Sacco the dancer, 
 and himself. That was too much for Roman so- 
 ciety, and Fontarini was declasse after that." 
 
 " I recall it all now," added Lord Castlemaine. 
 " Pietro Fontarini was hissed in the theatre, and 
 Sacco was obliged to leave Rome. Fontarini's uncle, 
 the Cardinal, cut him dead in public, and directed 
 his servant not to let Pietro Fontarini in the 
 house."
 
 40 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 Suddenly it came back to Fermor where he had 
 seen Madame Fontarini. He remembered the golden 
 spring afternoons of that year when, in the Borghese 
 Gardens, he had often seen the Cardinal, a stately 
 old man, walking with a young women draped in 
 black, or sitting with her upon a stone bench in the 
 sunshine. Sometimes, the girl, for she was little more 
 than that, would throw aside her heavy black veil, 
 and her face, pale, grief-stricken and abstracted, was 
 the face of Madame Fontarini, whom Fermor had 
 seen that night with all the charm of gala dress. But 
 in her dark eyes and upon her sensitive mouth were 
 the traces of the bygone tragedy. 
 
 Lord Castlemaine went on speaking : 
 
 "Fontarini luckily is dead, and it seems a pity 
 he was ever born. Madame Fontarini has evidently 
 returned to her father, and appears to be an only 
 child. She has a great deal of charm and dignity. 
 It occurred to me, to-night, she would make an ad- 
 mirable Countess of Castlemaine." 
 
 " For yourself? Let me know the date and I will 
 cheerfully do the handsome thing and will be best 
 man." 
 
 " Oh, Lord, no ! I was thinking of you ! " 
 
 " But I have often heard you declare that Amer- 
 ican heiresses were a very risky investment." 
 
 " So they are so they are as a general rule, 
 but this woman has been married before. Seymour 
 expects, so his daughter told me to-night, to live in 
 England, and, of course, if his daughter marries
 
 REGENERATION 41 
 
 again he will have to make a settlement on the good 
 old British plan the man to be rewarded for his 
 sacrifice." 
 
 " All you say," said Fermor, laughing and rising, 
 " would apply equally well in your own case." 
 
 " Possibly, but I am acting the part of a pater- 
 nal pelican toward you. At all events, I shall cul- 
 tivate the father, as well as the daughter, and if I 
 meet Seymour, I shall ask him to call. Madame Fon- 
 tarini was by long odds the best dressed woman at 
 the dinner." 
 
 " I admit, as regards clothes, the American women 
 generally leave the daughters of Albion at the 
 starting post." 
 
 " This one was more than well dressed. She had 
 about her the note of personal distinction, and she 
 was not hung all over with gew-gaws, like an In- 
 dian begum. Well, good-night. Let me know to- 
 morrow morning whether you are inclined to enter 
 the running with Madame Fontarini." 
 
 Lord Castlemaine went out of the room. Fermor, 
 left alone, sat down again and began to smoke and 
 to think. Hope welled up in his heart, although 
 he had before him that hateful half hour next day. 
 He was sure of himself in any event but one. If 
 Flora Bellenden should weep he never could resist 
 a woman's tears. He had never seen her weep, and 
 he did not think she could. Anything else, re- 
 proaches, taunts, appeals, he could withstand. It 
 might end by Tom Bellenden putting a bullet
 
 42 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 through his head or through Fermor's heart, for Bel- 
 lenden was a primitive man, and if he chose to see, 
 there was no reckoning upon what he might do. He 
 had not seen, and suspicion in his mind, dominated 
 by his wife, had never taken shape. One of the 
 worst things about the whole business, to Fermor, 
 was Bellenden's confidence in him, a confidence at 
 once pathetic, grotesque and lethargic. The thought 
 of that nerved Fermor even against Flora Bellen- 
 den's tears, if she should shed any. 
 
 Then, as a relief from the painful anticipations 
 of the next day, Fermor turned his mind upon Ma- 
 dame Fontarini. There indeed had been a tragedy. 
 It had often occurred to him that periods in the lives 
 of human beings came to an end, were closed like 
 books and laid away upon the shelf never to be re- 
 opened again. The first volume of Madame Fon- 
 tarini's life had the simple, direct and inevitable 
 tragedy of Greek drama. Now it was done with and 
 the next volume might be all delight and joy. 
 
 And Ashburton he, too, was beginning a new 
 volume rather late in life, for he would never see 
 forty again. Fermor determined to look up in the 
 encyclopedia exactly what the Third Order of St. 
 Francis might mean. It was something good, and 
 full of consequence, or Ashburton would never have 
 troubled himself about it. With these reveries 
 Fermor staved off more unpleasant ones, until he 
 went off to bed, at three o'clock in the morning. 
 Thoughts of the morrow kept him wakeful-
 
 THE clock was striking eleven next morning when 
 Fermor entered Mrs. Bellenden's drawing-room. 
 The day was dull and cold, for the season, and the 
 light was grey in the Chester Street drawing-room. 
 Flora Bellenden was waiting for him, and Fermor 
 was forced to admit that she had, or should have 
 had, great and striking beauty. She was taller than 
 most women, but perfectly lithe and graceful. Her 
 gown was sumptuous and becoming, and her effects 
 would have been good except that she studied them 
 too much. As Fermor was announced she rose, and 
 he could not but admire the stateliness of her figure 
 and bearing. 
 
 No woman deliberately enters upon such a scene 
 as lay before Mrs. Bellenden without looking care- 
 fully to her ammunition. Flora Bellenden's ammuni- 
 tion was of a worthless sort, for she was made up 
 more artfully, and consequently more odiously, than 
 common. She greeted Fermor with her usual famili- 
 arity, calling him " Reginald." Fermor used the 
 Englishman's ordinary and invincible weapon, si- 
 lence, and waited for Mrs. Bellenden to speak. 
 
 " We had an unlucky tiff last night," she said, 
 trying to smile and giving Fermor a look which Vol- 
 
 43
 
 44 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 taire describes as the " long, reproachful, haggard 
 glance of a jealous woman," " but I suppose we 
 are both of us ready to make up again this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 " That was not my understanding of it," replied 
 Fermor coldly. 
 
 " I will admit I was in the wrong," presently said 
 Mrs. Bellenden. 
 
 There was a long pause. Fermor had given her a 
 chance to dismiss him, but her last speech showed 
 that she had no intention of doing so. 
 
 " There is no division of right or wrong," he said 
 in reply ; " we have both been in the wrong. I am 
 willing to take my share of the blame but the end 
 has come." 
 
 No woman ever hears, unmoved, these words from 
 a man ; rage, shame and despair are usually her por- 
 tion then. Flora Bellenden felt rage and despair, 
 but suffered no pang of shame. She rose and took 
 a seat near to Fermor. 
 
 " I know I have often been tiresome," she said 
 softly. " I know my temper is trying, but think 
 what I have to bear! My husband " 
 
 Fermor stood up. " Let us not speak of him," he 
 said ; " it ill becomes us to do so. Whenever I am 
 in that man's presence or under his roof I feel my- 
 self to be a scoundrel. It is not a particularly pleas- 
 ant feeling, hence I have concluded to be a scoundrel 
 no longer." 
 
 He had meant to say something courteous and
 
 THE BREAKING FROM BONDAGE 45 
 
 even chivalrous then, but she gave him no chance. 
 She poured forth reproaches, threats and taunts, 
 walking excitedly up and down the floor. Nothing 
 she said could force a word from Fermor. After ten 
 minutes of this he went up to her, and drawing from 
 his pocket a great, glittering diamond ornament, 
 put it in her hand. 
 
 " This is a parting gift," he said. 
 
 These were not the words which he had pondered 
 over on his way to Chester Street. In parting from 
 a woman a man desires to say something regretful 
 to maintain the old tradition of being dismissed, but 
 all of Fermor's soft words deserted him. His native 
 honesty seemed to rise up and throttle him, and 
 keep him from uttering the falsehoods a gentleman 
 is expected to tell in such circumstances. 
 
 If Flora Bellenden had showed indignation at the 
 gift, if she had felt herself insulted by its offer, if 
 she had shed tears, Fermor's ruin might not have 
 been averted then, but she took the ornament readily 
 enough, while making a ridiculous feint of not want- 
 ing it. Nor did she shed a single tear. Thus did 
 fortune look kindly upon Lord Fermor. 
 
 " Good-bye," he said, " I beg you will always 
 consider me as a friend, but I can never come here 
 again." 
 
 There was a finality in his tone which convinced 
 even Flora Bellenden. The interview had lasted 
 barely fifteen minutes. This then was the parting 
 after ten years. The wound to Mrs. Bellenden's
 
 46 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 vanity was very great, and it also meant the wreck 
 of many ambitions, but in the midst of this tumult 
 of soul, the streak of barbarism and of childish- 
 ness, which dwells in women like herself, made her 
 glance furtively and with satisfaction at the dia- 
 mond ornament. It must have cost at least five hun- 
 dred pounds, a large sum for a man in Fermor's posi- 
 tion. 
 
 " The time may come, perhaps, when you will re- 
 gret having deserted me," she said after a moment; 
 "you will at least shake hands with me." 
 
 She offered Fermor her free hand and he took it 
 and made as if he would kiss it, then dropped it 
 suddenly, with a strange expression of repulsion on 
 his face. The next moment the door had closed after 
 him. 
 
 Mrs. Bellenden stood motionless until she heard 
 the street door shut. Fermor was indeed gone. At 
 once her mind leaped to the conclusion that there 
 was another woman in the case. The thought threw 
 her into an agony of anger and a passion for re- 
 venge. Through it, nevertheless, her eyes remained 
 fixed upon the dazzling ornament in her hand. A 
 new difficulty occurred to her; how was she to 
 account for having an ornament so splendid, and 
 without accounting for it she dare not wear it. 
 She held it up to the light, watching the diamonds 
 flashing and burning, and suddenly her husband 
 stood at her elbow. His florid, handsome face had 
 in it a kind of dull suspicion. He had not heard
 
 THE BREAKING FROM BONDAGE 47 
 
 voices in the drawing-room, nor did he know that 
 Fermor had come and gone. 
 
 "What do you think of this?" asked Mrs. Bel- 
 lenden, coolly, handing the ornament to her hus- 
 band. " Is it not a wonderful imitation? " 
 
 Blellenden glanced at the glittering thing. He 
 knew nothing of jewels and was ready and willing 
 to believe anything his wife might tell him on that 
 or any other subject. 
 
 " Some fellows at the club last night were saying 
 it was hardly worth while for women to wear genuine 
 jewels now-a-days, the imitations are too good," he 
 replied. 
 
 " Yes. The pearls, you know, have to be weighed 
 to tell the sham from the real. This thing is ten 
 pounds. I can exchange it if I like. I thought I 
 would show it to you and Fermor and a few others, 
 and ask what you thought of it before I decided to 
 keep it." 
 
 " I hate shams," replied Bellenden, " but I am 
 not such a fool as to meddle with my wife's taste in 
 dress." 
 
 " I think I shall keep it," said Mrs. Bellenden. She 
 had spoken all through with perfect composure, a 
 composure which had saved her in many tight places 
 before. 
 
 Bellenden was going to ride in the Park, and his 
 wife, as a good strategic move, offered to ride with 
 him. It was the first time in years that she had done 
 such a thing, and poor Tom accepted it gratefully.
 
 48 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 Half an hour afterwards they were cantering to- 
 gether along the Lady's Mile. The morning had 
 suddenly brightened and the sun was shining, and 
 the Park was full of that smart crowd which fills 
 the green chairs on sunny mornings and afternoons 
 during the season. Among the loungers in the green 
 chairs were a number of men and women who laughed 
 at the spectacle of Flora Bellenden riding with her 
 own husband. Lord Castlemaine was on foot. He 
 liked his morning stroll in the Park as much as Dr. 
 Johnson loved his walk down the Strand. The after- 
 noon was the time for riding, Lord Castlemaine de- 
 clared, when the carriages were full and the beauty 
 show was on. 
 
 Never had Lord Castlemaine seen more animation 
 in the space between Queen's Gate and Apsley 
 House, than on this June morning. All smart Lon- 
 don seemed to be there. It was almost as good as 
 the London of Lord Castlemaine's youth, as described 
 in Disraeli's novels, only the scenes of one's youth 
 are always better than the scenes of one's old age. 
 At every turn Lord Castlemaine met acquaintances 
 who congratulated him on his looks, for no man in 
 London carried sixty-five years better than he. A 
 monocle was still good enough for him, and his keen 
 eyes travelled over the crowd, scarcely missing a 
 face. Bellenden and his wife riding together did 
 not escape Lord Castlemaine. Mrs. Bellenden looked 
 remarkably well on horseback and her secret agita- 
 tion gave her more animation than usual. Still
 
 THE BREAKING FROM BONDAGE 49 
 
 Lord Castlemaine's inward comment did not vary. 
 Why did a fellow as clever as Fermor allow him- 
 self to be hauled and pulled about by a hussy like 
 Flora Bellenden? He forgot, after the manner of 
 men, that he had been hauled and pulled about a 
 good deal in his time by ladies not unlike Mrs. Bel- 
 lenden. 
 
 As Bellenden and his wife passed out of view, 
 Lord Castlemaine caught sight of a lady and gen- 
 tleman sitting on a bench together, near Albert 
 Gate. They were his neighbours, Madame Fontarini 
 and her father, Seymour. Madame Fontarini looked 
 as well in the morning as in the evening. She was 
 in a white toilette of the crisp, fresh, fine, delicate and 
 expensive sort which is a unique possession of the 
 American woman, and her white gloves, shoes, hat 
 and parasol shouted out her nationality. She looked 
 younger, more girlish than the night before. Lord 
 Castlemaine at once made his way toward her and 
 greeted her in his most charming manner. 
 
 " And this, I believe, is Mr. Seymour," he said, of- 
 fering his hand to Seymour. " I think we may 
 claim acquaintanceship through our friend Strat- 
 ton." 
 
 Seymour shook hands courteously and Lord Cas- 
 tlemaine, without waiting for an invitation, seated 
 himself on the other side of Madame Fontarini. He 
 began talking to her in his most brilliant and amus- 
 ing style. Seymour listened gravely with an oc- 
 casional smile. As Madame Fontarini was quite
 
 50 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 different from the usual type of Anglicised Ameri- 
 cans, so was Seymour slightly different from any 
 American Lord Castlemaine had yet seen, among 
 the class who have town houses and big places in 
 the country. He was a gentleman, obviously, with- 
 out having about him the marks of race, the air of 
 the highest breeding, which distinguished his daugh- 
 ter. His hair and moustache and peaked imperial 
 were quite white, and he gave the impression of a 
 man prematurely aged. The expression of his light 
 blue eyes was beautiful and peculiar. It was the 
 look of modesty, of deprecation, of gentle humility, 
 of the deepest kindliness, an expression rare in men 
 and women, but sometimes seen in the eyes of chil- 
 dren. Seymour's manner corresponded with his 
 looks ; it was quiet, retiring and shrinking. The 
 first glance revealed that Madame Fontarini was 
 an idolised daughter. The relations between them 
 seemed curiously reversed. It was Madame Fon- 
 tarini, whose attitude was one of tender protection, 
 of affectionate consideration. She frequently turned 
 to her father and addressed him with gentle respect. 
 He replied in kind, but briefly and without contrib- 
 uting much to the conversation. 
 
 Lord Castlemaine understood perfectly well, from 
 Madame Fontarini's presence that night before at 
 the Premier's dinner, that she had access to the best 
 society in London. 
 
 The name of Fontarini would give her that. He 
 led the conversation, artfully, upon the Italian
 
 THE BREAKING FROM BONDAGE 51 
 
 Ambassador, and was not surprised when Madame 
 Fontarini replied coolly that she had no acquaint- 
 ance with the Ambassador, as she had never called 
 at the Embassy. 
 
 Lord Castlemaine had been talking with his new- 
 found acquaintance quite half an hour, when he 
 caught sight of Fermor, walking briskly past. 
 
 " May I introduce my son, Lord Fermor? " he 
 asked of Madame Fontarini, and without waiting 
 for permission, beckoned to Fermor, who advanced 
 and was introduced. Theodora Fontarini was famil- 
 iar enough with the English customs to know that 
 this was a proceeding quite out of the ordinary. But 
 so was Lord Castlemaine out of the ordinary, and 
 Fermor also. 
 
 The proceeding, which would have flurried any 
 unmarried woman in England, bringing up at once 
 dazzling visions of the future coronet of Castlemaine, 
 had no such effect upon Theodora Fontarini. She 
 was American enough to regard it as a mere act of 
 civility, but she remembered the meeting with Fermor 
 the night before, just as Fermor had been impressed 
 by her. Madame Fontarini made a smiling allusion 
 to their meeting at Petersham House, twelve hours 
 before, and then the conversation turned on Marsac, 
 of the French Embassy. 
 
 The group was standing in the full light of the 
 bright noon, all blue and gold. Madame Fontarini's 
 dazzling white costume, of the sort unknown in Eng- 
 land, made her conspicuous. Fermor, glancing
 
 52 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 toward the roadway, saw a lady and gentleman 
 walking their horses. It was Tom Bellenden and his 
 wife. Fermor could have left the group at any 
 moment, but Madame Fontarini's soft charm, the 
 delicate but distinct differences between her and the 
 English woman, were not lost on Fermor. He felt 
 very much inclined to linger, and when he saw Mrs. 
 Bellenden his inclination became a resolve. The con- 
 viction shot into Mrs. Bellenden's mind when she saw 
 Fermor and Madame Fontarini walking through the 
 cool green Park, followed by Lord Castlemaine and 
 Seymour, that here was her rival. 
 
 Mrs. Bellenden was tolerably well informed con- 
 cerning Seymour and his daughter, as her informa- 
 tion to Lady Susan Battle had indicated. She un- 
 derstood, or thought she understood, the whole 
 thing. It was the American, with her millions, her 
 calm, assured air in speaking to men, her distinctive 
 toilettes, who had lured away Fermor. Mrs. Bellen- 
 den hated all Americans, and the sight of Fermor 
 walking with Madame Fontarini, who took it, as 
 Mrs. Bellenden thought, in a ridiculously cool man- 
 ner, made her hate them all the more, as a woman 
 only can hate. 
 
 Another person was surprised and annoyed at the 
 sight. This was Lady Susan Battle, who from the 
 balcony of her house watched Fermor accompany 
 Madame Fontarini to her own door. Lady Susan, 
 accustomed to British conventions, concluded that 
 when the heir to an earldom walked in broad day-
 
 THE BREAKING FROM BONDAGE 53 
 
 light from Hyde Park to Queen's Gate with an un- 
 married woman, that a marriage had already been 
 arranged between them. With wrath and chagrin, 
 she said as much to Jane Battle, her eldest step- 
 daughter. 
 
 " I should think," replied Jane calmly, " it would 
 be a very good thing for Lord Fermor. The Ameri- 
 cans have such oceans of money." 
 
 Lord Castlemaine always declared Jane to be the 
 least objectionable of the Battle girls. As a 
 matter of fact Jane possessed both good sense and 
 good looks, and though by no means averse to Lord 
 Fermor, had suffered no pangs of disappointed love 
 when Lady Susan had admitted that Fermor could 
 not be induced to take the notion seriously of an 
 alliance with the house of Battle. 
 
 " But why can't Fermor marry an English 
 woman? " Lady Susan demanded of Jane, as if Jane 
 were responsible. " These American women, every- 
 body knows, are thoroughly spoiled and lead their 
 husbands a dance. But it is all the King's fault. 
 If he had never taken up with them, we would not 
 have seen these American duchesses and countesses 
 elbowing one at every turn. There are not enough 
 men in England to go around, and it is a hardship, 
 I say, that the Americans should have the choice of 
 them, and the King has something to answer for to 
 British mothers." 
 
 Jane, being a discerning girl, was studying Ma- 
 dame Fontarini's costume, as she stood, her fluffy
 
 '54 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 white parasol tilted back, smiling into the faces of 
 the three men grouped around her. 
 
 " I think, mamma," said Jane, " I should like to 
 have a white gown like that, but I don't know where 
 I could get it. I should not venture on the white 
 shoes? my feet are not small enough." 
 
 " I should think not," agreed Lady Susan. " I 
 consider those white shoes enough to compromise 
 any girl's character." 
 
 The group in the street separated, Seymour and 
 his daughter going into their own house, while Lord 
 Castlemaine and Fermor went into Castlemaine 
 House. A part of the unspoken gratitude which 
 Fermor felt for his father for offering him money, 
 showed itself in his going home and lunching with 
 him. 
 
 Lord Castlemaine's quick eye had caught sight 
 of Lady Susan Battle upon the flower-decked bal- 
 cony, under the awning, and he said, laughing, to 
 Fermor : 
 
 " Your Aunt Susan witnessed our stroll with our 
 neighbours, and she will probably take it out on me. 
 I do not know why it is, but she seems a little afraid 
 of you." 
 
 Fermour laughed. 
 
 " My aunt is a good woman, but very diverting," 
 he said. 
 
 The father and son went together upstairs to 
 the drawing-room. The day had grown hot as well 
 as bright, and the balcony, cool and shaded, was a
 
 THE BREAKING FROM BONDAGE 55 
 
 pleasant place. Lord CastJemaine picked up a news- 
 paper which lay on the table, while Fermor took up 
 one of the quarterlies. After five minutes' reading, 
 Lord Castlemaine laid down his newspaper and said 
 to Fermor quietly, as if continuing their conversa- 
 tion of the night before: 
 
 " It is the best marriage that could be arranged 
 for you. The lady is charming, the fortune is large ; 
 and if King's Lyndon is a part of the arrangement, 
 it will more than maintain the family interest in Mid- 
 landshire." 
 
 Fermor laid down his magazine across his knee 
 and lighted a cigarette, but said nothing. If anyone 
 had told him at sunrise that before night he would 
 meet a woman who would interest him, he would have 
 gibed at the notion ; he thought he had had enough 
 of the feminine sex to last him the rest of his life. 
 But just as Lord Castlemaine had unexpectedly 
 changed his mind on the subject of American heir- 
 esses, since meeting Theodora Fontarini, so the 
 thought of another feminine element in his life did 
 not altogether displease Fermor. Nothing more 
 was said and they sat reading on the balcony for 
 half an hour. Then from Seymour's house, came 
 the soft strains of a violin, touched by the delicate, 
 skilful bow of a woman. Lord Castlemaine listened 
 closely ; he was no mean judge of music, and when 
 the violin-playing ceased he looked significantly at 
 Fermor, who glanced away as if he had not observed 
 the music. He had heard every note.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 EXPIATION 
 
 THEODORA FONTARINI on entering her house went 
 into the first of the three great drawing-rooms which 
 made a long vista of splendour. The lofty room was 
 cool and redolent of flowers, placed lavishly about in 
 it. Madame Fontarini seated herself in an armchair 
 in front of the glass door that opened upon the bal- 
 cony, shaded like those of its neighbours, and a riot 
 of colour with its blooming plants. 
 
 Madame Fontarini gazed into the wide, sunny 
 street, but her brooding eyes saw nothing. A change, 
 faint indeed, but noticeable, seemed to have come into 
 her life during those few weeks in England, and to- 
 day she recognised it for the first time. At last, her 
 tragic past seemed to be melting a little in that 
 twilight of forgetfulness which is on the horizon of 
 every human life. 
 
 Like all women, Theodora cherished her griefs, 
 and they had been great, as had also her vicissitudes. 
 On her marriage, at eighteen, with Pietro Fontarini, 
 a splendid fortune was bestowed on her, and every 
 precaution taken by her father that she should con- 
 trol it, but Pietro Fontarini was not the man to let 
 his wife have any money and be at peace. At first 
 he laughingly requested it of her, and she gave it 
 
 56
 
 EXPIATION 57 
 
 to him willingly. Later, when she made a faint and 
 blushing protest, he demanded it of her violently, 
 and Theodora, although she had not a drop of 
 coward's blood in her body, was too bewildered, too 
 inexperienced to resist. With a noble ignorance she 
 sought to shame her husband by giving up to him 
 in haughty silence, all he demanded of her. Noth- 
 ing could have suited Pietro Fontarini better than 
 this. 
 
 Although Theodora had quickly and rashly yielded 
 to the soft seduction of love for the handsomest 
 young Roman of them all, common sense and her own 
 integrity of soul soon showed her Pietro Fontarini 
 as he really was. No woman's love could survive 
 that revelation. Pride and native dignity kept 
 Theodora silent, under outrages that an older and 
 more experienced woman would have made Pietro 
 pay for dearly. 
 
 When her child was born the young mother of 
 nineteen thought that compensation had at last 
 come to her. The boy was noble minded like his 
 mother, but the beautiful image of his father. The 
 thought that he might resemble Pietro in other 
 ways went like a knife to the heart of Theodora, 
 and then, overwhelmed with remorse and considering 
 it a crime to suspect a child of such latent iniquity, 
 she would clasp him in her arms and shower caresses 
 upon him. These things and the agony of the child's 
 death had haunted her continually for six years past, 
 and only lately, since she had come to England, had
 
 $8 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 she been able to withdraw her mind enough from them 
 to take any interest in the world around her. Dur- 
 ing all those years of sadness her father's tenderness 
 and patience had never failed, and it was for him 
 that Madame Fontarini at last roused herself from 
 the torpor of grief, and had taken up her life at the 
 point it had been dropped when she entered upon 
 those stormy years with Pietro Fontarini. 
 
 She had always been a great reader, and she re- 
 sumed her books, after having cast them aside with 
 bitterness for years, saying they could do nothing 
 for her. In her girlhood she had been devoted to her 
 violin, but that, too, had been abandoned till lately. 
 Her father loved to hear her play upon her instru- 
 ment, and since they came to London she had been 
 under a master and found her old skill returning. 
 
 Of deeper things, although Theodora's mind was 
 ever searching and weighing, she knew not what she 
 thought or believed. The God of goodness, in whom 
 she had trusted with childlike confidence until her 
 marriage, became to her a relentless tormentor of 
 souls. Pietro Fontarini reviled religion in every 
 form, and shocked as Theodora was in the beginning, 
 Fontarini's gibes and outpourings of contempt had 
 not been without their effect. His family made 
 great professions of religion and observed all the 
 outward and ostentatious forms of piety, but Theo- 
 dora had not seen in them much of the religion of 
 the Nazarene. 
 
 The Fontarini family looked upon the marriage
 
 EXPIATION 59 
 
 of Pietro as a purely commercial arrangement, the 
 exchange of rank for money, and inexperienced as 
 they were in women of Theodora's type, it is hardly 
 to be wondered that they held her partly accountable 
 for Pietro Fontarini's complete demoralisation. Car- 
 dinal Fontarini alone did the young wife complete 
 justice and gave her a degree of countenance and 
 support that put her position beyond question. He 
 had not forced religion upon her, seeing she was in 
 no mood to accept anything as truth which savoured 
 of mercy. But, deeply grateful, as Theodora was 
 for the Cardinal's unfailing kindness and steady 
 support, there was about him that aloofness, that 
 detachment of soul, of an ecclesiastic who believes 
 that sin is the only real evil. 
 
 Since she had been in England, Madame Fontarini 
 had occasionally slipped into the open door of a 
 church and remained a few moments. She had not 
 yet been brought to her knees, but she was nearer 
 submission than she had been for ten years past. 
 
 These things drifted dreamily through Theodora*s 
 mind as she sat still and silent, her inward gaze upon 
 herself; then, strangely enough, she found herself 
 thinking of other things, of the present and even of 
 the future. Being all a woman, she was conscious 
 of Lord Castlemaine's open admiration and marked 
 attention to her, and, knowing well who and what 
 he was, her woman's vanity was pleased. And Fer- 
 mor Madame Fontarini could not recall when she 
 had met a man who interested and pleased her so
 
 60 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 much upon a casual meeting. Even after that 
 chance encounter the night before at Petersham 
 House, she would have recognised him anywhere. 
 She was actually speculating upon whether Fermor 
 would call upon her or not, when her reverie was 
 broken by her father's step behind her, and Sey- 
 mour saying: 
 
 " Here is your music master, my dear." 
 
 Madame Fontarini rose at once and greeted Sig- 
 nor Barotti, the violin teacher. He was a small, 
 dark, ugly little man, lacking an eye, but the one 
 remaining was full of intelligence and playfulness. 
 Theodora had thought that nothing could overcome 
 her prejudice to the Italians, but Barotti's ami- 
 able temper and gaiety of heart conquered her good 
 will as much as his mastery of the violin and his ca- 
 pacity to teach it commanded her respect. He was 
 usually full of jokes, and this half-blind, poverty- 
 stricken, hard-working Italian seemed to be the 
 most cheerful person in London. Seymour was al- 
 ways present at the violin lessons, enjoying Barot- 
 ti's quips and cranks as much as the music. To- 
 day, however, the music master was silent and even 
 morose. Theodora, before taking up her violin, 
 went to a mirror and removed her white hat and 
 smoothed her hair. She was surprised by Barotti 
 saying, with some impatience: 
 
 "Pray, Madame, let us not lose time. I am late 
 to-day and we must work to make up for lost time." 
 
 Theodora took up her violin, and meaning to
 
 EXPIATION 61 
 
 please and surprise Barotti, dashed into a bit of 
 Brahms, full of wild harmonies mingled with a 
 soft-recurring melody all passion and sadness. This 
 was the music which floated into the next house, and 
 charmed Lord Castlemaine and Fermor. 
 
 When Theodora finished she looked smilingly at 
 Barotti, waiting for praise, but instead of a compli- 
 ment, Barotti only said, fretfully, in Italian: 
 
 " Yes, yes, you do it well, pretty well, but why 
 should you not? The violin is a greedy instru- 
 ment. It will have those who play it to eat well, 
 to sleep well, to have fresh air and not to degrade 
 the bow-arm with labour. But there are some of us 
 who have other masters to serve, than this greedy 
 violin, who must play for hours with hunger gnaw- 
 ing at us, and weakening the play of the bow-arm, 
 whose nerves are on the rack with sleepless nights, 
 and whose minds are on things the rich call sordid. 
 Oh, they are all alike, the rich ! " 
 
 Barotti's face was working; he seemed consumed 
 with rage and disgust at life. 
 
 Theodora set her violin and bow down on the 
 piano. A quick, angry colour came into her pale 
 cheeks, and she looked at Barotti in silence. Barotti 
 grew frightened ; he thought that she was offended 
 with him and that he should lose his best pupil, and 
 he stammered out something of the sort. 
 
 When Theodora spoke it was with gentleness. 
 
 " I think," she said, also in Italian, " that some- 
 thing must have gone very unfortunately with you
 
 62 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 to-day. It Is now two o'clock and luncheon is on 
 the table. Suppose you come and have luncheon with 
 us and finish scolding me at the table." 
 
 Then, turning to her father, she said in English: 
 
 " Come, papa, Mr. Barotti will have luncheon 
 with us." 
 
 At this Barotti suddenly laid his head down on 
 the piano and burst into a passion of weeping. 
 
 Theodora, touched and amazed, placed a soft 
 hand on the poor violinist's arm, but it was Mr. 
 Seymour who came up and said in a quick voice : 
 
 " Is there anything I can do for you? If it is a 
 question of money " 
 
 He dived down into his pockets as he spoke. 
 
 Barotti rushed away, through the second drawing- 
 room into the third, where, half hidden by a window 
 curtain, he gradually recovered his composure. In 
 the first drawing-room Seymour, with a light in his 
 usually sad eyes, was saying to Theodora: 
 
 " We must help the poor fellow. We can't let 
 him suffer, you know." 
 
 Theodora smiled and patted her father's hand. 
 
 " I believe, papa, you have made some sort of a 
 vow to help everybody that you can in distress." 
 
 " Not a vow, my dear, but an expiation " 
 
 Seymour suddenly stopped. Theodora asked no 
 questions. She had heard that word " expiation " 
 spoken more than once by her father, but he had 
 never offered any explanation of it and, with in- 
 stinctive delicacy, his daughter refrained from ques-
 
 EXPIATION 63 
 
 tion or comment. In her own mind, Theodora be- 
 lieved her father to have committed some venial 
 offence, and with the singular sensitiveness of con- 
 science which distinguished him, he had determined 
 to make of his life one long act of reparation. 
 
 In a minute or two, Barotti, somewhat composed, 
 returned to the first drawing-room. 
 
 "I will tell you," he said to Theodora, "what 
 breaks my heart to-day. My boy, Nicolo, has been 
 ill for long. He is all I have in the world, and as 
 fast as I made money I spent it on doctors and hos- 
 pitals for Nicolo. Two weeks ago he grew more ill, 
 and since it has been like tearing my heart from my 
 body to leave the boy. But I could not give up my 
 lessons. I think the lad is worse to-day, yet I was 
 forced to leave him as usual. That is what made me 
 so irritable to you, the kindest as well as the best of 
 my pupils." 
 
 " It was nothing," replied Theodora, smiling ; 
 " let us go to luncheon and talk it over." 
 
 " My dear fellow," cried Seymour to Barotti, 
 "why did not you speak of this before? Every- 
 thing necessary shall be done for the boy, without 
 cost to you." 
 
 Barotti was astounded at this, but Theodora took 
 it as a matter of course, being accustomed to it 
 from her childhood. 
 
 The three went down to the dining-room and Ba- 
 rotti recovered a little of his spirits in the atmos- 
 phere of kindness which surrounded him.
 
 64 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 As soon as luncheon was over Seymour ordered a 
 cab and went off in it with Barotti. Barotti's wide 
 mouth wore a broad grin of delight and his one eye 
 scintillated with joy and gratitude. 
 
 At five o'clock Seymour had not returned and 
 Madame Fontarini went alone for her drive in the 
 Park. The afternoon was glorious, and all gay Lon- 
 don seemed to have poured itself into the Park. 
 There was a blockade of carriages from Albert 
 Gate to the Achilles statue, and the crowd of well- 
 dressed men and women sitting in the chairs or 
 leaning over the railing enjoyed the sight, at close 
 quarters, of half the beauty of London. 
 
 Madame Fontarini, in her well-turned-out vic- 
 toria and pair, bore the scrutiny calmly. She 
 was accustomed, to the observation and even to the 
 free remarks of a Roman crowd, and the London 
 multitude was nothing to that. To this, however, 
 was one exception. At one point, where the line of 
 carriages going in opposite directions was halted, 
 an open carriage in which sat Mrs. Bellenden almost 
 locked wheels for five minutes with Theodora's car- 
 riage. Mrs. Bellenden recognised Theodora instantly 
 as the lady with whom Fermor had been seen walking 
 and talking in the morning. Theodora was a per- 
 sonality, and personalties are easily numbered, espe- 
 cially when they are in sharp rivalry with a jealous 
 woman. Mrs. Bellenden fixed a look of curiosity 
 upon Theodora which soon became impertinent. 
 Madame Fontarini had a goool memory, but if she
 
 EXPIATION 65 
 
 had been inclined to forget, Mrs. Bellenden's cool, 
 supercilious, but intense stare would have brought 
 her to mind. Madame Fontarini, although acutely 
 conscious of it, gave not the least sign of annoyance, 
 but sat back in her victoria, apparently in calm un- 
 consciousness of Mrs. Bellenden's fixed gaze. From 
 mere impertinence it grew insulting; hatred and re- 
 sentment were in it. 
 
 Theodora felt a shock of surprise and a sudden 
 consciousness that this handsome spectacular-look- 
 ing woman was an enemy. She was on her mettle, 
 and when the carriage ahead of her moved and her 
 coachman did not at once proceed, she was enough 
 mistress of herself to give no order to him, but she 
 was glad when she was out of the reach of Mrs. 
 Bellenden's eyes. 
 
 It was after seven o'clock before Theodora re- 
 turned home. No word had been received from Mr. 
 Seymour. This somewhat disturbed Theodora. She 
 knew her father's passion for doing charity, and it 
 had happened more than once before that, going to 
 see some sick person, he had remained the night and 
 even several nights. 
 
 Madame Fontarini dressed for dinner and sat down 
 alone to the table in the gorgeous dining-room. 
 After dinner she went up into the dusky drawing- 
 room, and declining to have the lamps lighted, sat 
 alone in the twilight. It was quite nine o'clock and 
 the light was fading out of the western sky, when 
 a gentleman was announced at the door of the draw-
 
 66 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 ing-room Major Ashburton. Theodora rose as he 
 advanced. His air and manner were those of a man 
 of the world, and though he was short and plain he 
 was far from insignificant so much Theodora 
 recognised at the first glance. 
 
 "Allow me to introduce myself Major Ashbur- 
 ton, and this, I believe, is Madame Fontarini." 
 
 Madame Fontarini bowed and asked Ashburton 
 to have a seat, which he took and continued: 
 
 "I have come with a message from Mr. Sey- 
 mour. He desires me to say that, on going to the 
 lodgings of Barotti, the music master, he found the 
 boy, Nicolo, very ill with scarlet fever. The nurse, 
 whom Barotti had hired, deserted the boy, and Mr. 
 Seymour felt that his services were needed on the 
 spot. He remained, therefore, until the doctor and 
 another nurse were secured by telephone, but, of 
 course, after having been several hours in the room 
 with the boy, Mr. Seymour is in quarantine. I spoke 
 with him from the door, as I was not allowed to 
 enter the room, and he asked me to say to you, 
 with his love, he would communicate with you every 
 day and would return as soon as it was safe to 
 do so." 
 
 " I was afraid of something of the sort," cried 
 Theodora. " It is so like my father." 
 
 " Meanwhile," continued Ashburton, " Mr. Sey- 
 mour directs that his man shall put up some clothes 
 and other things desired, and I will take them in 
 my cab, which is waiting,"
 
 EXPIATION 67 
 
 " Thank you very much," replied Theodora, 
 quickly, " I accept your favour gratefully." 
 
 She rang the bell, and sending for Seymour's 
 valet, ordered him to put up the necessary things 
 and take them down to the cab. Then she returned 
 to Ashburton. 
 
 " It is very good of you, too," she said, smiling, 
 "to do so much. I think we all would help Signer 
 Barotti, or any one else in a like emergency, but some 
 people, like my father, seem to have the knack of 
 finding out emergencies." 
 
 To this, Ashburton said nothing. He was a 
 natural celibate and not much interested in women, 
 but Madame Fontarini appealed to him as being 
 rather finer and stronger than the average woman. 
 Besides she was of a type so different from English 
 women that she attracted notice like an unusual 
 flower in a garden. Ashburton's remark, however, 
 was not of a poetic sort. He said : 
 
 " There is an immense deal of scarlet fever about. 
 I have heard of a dozen cases within a week." 
 
 Madame Fontarini was a little puzzled. Was 
 this gentleman a doctor? She remembered that 
 army surgeons were in England given military 
 titles. 
 
 " Perhaps your profession," she said, " brings 
 you in the way of finding out about these things." 
 
 " My profession is, or was, the army," replied 
 Ashburton. 
 
 Madame Fontarini smiled with a pretty air of
 
 68 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 knowing something which her companion did not 
 wish her to find out. 
 
 " I understand," she said ; " you are like my 
 father, one of those men who like to do good, and 
 search for occasions." 
 
 Ashburton's face flushed crimson up to the roots 
 of his sandy hair. In truth, he hated to be found 
 out. 
 
 " All of us must do some good," he began blun- 
 deringly. 
 
 " Oh, yes," answered Madame Fontarini, easily, 
 " but all of us do not hunt up scarlet fever cases. 
 Not that one need really be so afraid of it, unless 
 
 there are children " she stopped suddenly and a 
 
 change came over her face. 
 
 "Perhaps," said Ashburton, misunderstanding 
 her and rising hastily, " you may be afraid for your 
 children. I assure you I was not in the room." 
 
 " I have no children," responded Madame Fon- 
 tarini, and repeated in a low voice, " I have no 
 child." 
 
 Something in her tone told that she had once 
 had a child, and it was no more. Ashburton said 
 nothing, but, looking into Theodora's eyes, a kind 
 of psychic understanding came to both the 
 man and the woman. The craving for sympathy 
 and the consciousness that Ashburton was sympa- 
 thetic in the highest degree, made Madame Fonta- 
 rini say in the same low voice:
 
 EXPIATION 69 
 
 " I had a child, a beautiful man-child. If he 
 were alive he would be quite as tall as my shoulder." 
 
 Then Tompkins, Mr. Seymour's valet, passed down 
 the stair, carrying his master's portmanteau. 
 Madame Fontarini, going to a vase of roses, took 
 from it three beautiful red roses. 
 
 " Give this one to my father with my love," she 
 said, smiling and handing one to Ashburton, " and 
 give him this one with my dear love, and the third 
 one with my dearest love." 
 
 Ashburton's shrewd eyes expressed surprise. He 
 had never known an English daughter on quite 
 these terms of affectionate intimacy with her father, 
 which Theodora's words suggested. He had been 
 struck before by Seymour's tender solicitude for his 
 daughter, and the whole thing was as beautiful as it 
 was unusual to Ashburton, who knew nothing of 
 American daughter-worship. He bowed himself out, 
 and Theodora, for the second time that day, felt a 
 sensation of interest and admiration concerning a 
 man.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE PORTAL OF THE HEAET 
 
 SEVERAL days passed and Seymour remained ab- 
 sent, but every day Theodora received a letter from 
 him. Ashburton, however, did not again call, which 
 Theodora regretted, feeling a desire to know him 
 better. And, although going out in society gave 
 her no particular pleasure, she accepted invitations 
 and paid visits as a relief from the sharp introspec- 
 tion, which she now shrank from for the first time 
 in years. Theodora also laid aside certain books, 
 like those of Pascal and Amiel, which she had read 
 too much, seeing in them the reflection of her own 
 questioning and despondent soul. She began to wish 
 for friends, and determined to cultivate those persons 
 who showed a kindly interest in her. The first of these 
 were the Marsacs, and Theodora really enjoyed the 
 day when Madame Marsac lunched with her. Madame 
 Marsac's French grace and her quick Gallic sympa- 
 thy appealed to Theodora. Marsac, who knew every- 
 thing, knew Theodora's history and had told 
 Madame Marsac. This gave Madame Marsac much 
 insight into Theodora's character. 
 
 In passing to and from her carriage in the after- 
 noon and evening and in going for her morning 
 walk in the Park, Theodora was often seen by her 
 
 TO
 
 THE PORTAL OF THE HEART 71 
 
 neighbours, including Fermor. His masculine eye 
 could not but be pleased by Madame Fontarini's 
 exquisite naturalness of appearance and her air and 
 manner; they were those of a girl of twenty. Ma- 
 dame Fontarini, though, was no girl, but a woman 
 who had lived through storms and tempests that 
 would have wrecked most women. Once or twice 
 they met, in the street, and talked for a few min- 
 utes. But, as Fermor had not seen fit to avail him- 
 self of Seymour's cordial American invitation to 
 call, Theodora did not linger in Lord Fermor's com- 
 pany. 
 
 As for Fermor, he was more sensitive to Madame 
 Fontarini's charm than she suspected, but, like a 
 true-born Briton, he postponed everything concern- 
 ing women for what he considered more important 
 affairs. At that moment he was deep in county poli- 
 tics, as it was obvious that there would very soon 
 be a vacancy in the division. Of course he was bom- 
 barded with frantic letters from Flora Bellenden, 
 which he regularly threw unread into the fire. She 
 would have waylaid him if she could, but Fermor 
 was resolute, and when he saw her, passed by on 
 the other side, gazing straight at her and smiling, 
 so there could be no pretence that he did not see 
 her. 
 
 Two persons, Mrs. Bellenden and Lady Susan 
 Battle, expected daily the announcement of Fer- 
 mor's engagement to Madame Fontarini, to whom 
 he had not so far paid a single visit.
 
 72 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 One rainy afternoon, during the week of Sey- 
 mour's absence, Fermor determined to pay a visit of 
 ceremony to Madame Fontarini, but, just as he made 
 his resolve, he saw Lord Castlemaine wending his 
 way next door. Fermor promptly concluded to wait 
 until he should see his father emerge from Madame 
 Fontarini's door. 
 
 Theodora, sitting at her solitary tea table, in 
 the vast suite of drawing-rooms, watched the grey 
 rain come down in sheets. On the table beside her 
 lay an open volume of Amiel, to which the sad 
 grey day had once more drawn her. A longing 
 was in her heart for companionship, and it was with 
 a sensation of pleasure she heard Lord Castlemaine 
 announced. He entered, bringing with him the at- 
 mosphere of strength, power and interest which 
 was ever his own. 
 
 " I meant to call long before," he said, " but 
 there is an attorney in town by the name of Strat- 
 ton who seems to own me as Mephistopheles owned 
 Faust. However, to-day I claimed my freedom and 
 determined to come in and pay my respects to 
 you." 
 
 Then Madame Fontarini explained that her 
 father was not at home and went on, quite as a 
 matter of course, to tell the story of Barotti's 
 stricken child. 
 
 " In my youth," said Lord Castlemaine, receiving 
 his first cup of tea, " nobody ever heard of these in- 
 cursions upon the poor, and we didn't know such
 
 THE PORTAL OF THE HEART 73 
 
 a place as the East End existed. Now, it is some- 
 thing like the days of John Wesley. I shouldn't 
 be surprised to see my son, Lord Fermor, going 
 around bare-footed in a brown habit with a straw 
 rope around his waist." 
 
 " Has Lord Fermor any ascetic leanings ? " asked 
 Theodora in good faith. 
 
 " Oh, Lord, no ! Not that ever I heard, only this 
 is the age of extremists and of everybody med- 
 dling with everybody else's business. I am a re- 
 actionary. I don't believe in A and B deciding be- 
 tween themselves that C shall assume the moral and 
 financial responsibility for D." 
 
 " That is not my father's way," replied Madame 
 Fontarini, laughing ; " he himself shoulders A, B, 
 C, and D without asking any one to help him." 
 
 " Then I consider Mr. Seymour may be classed 
 as a dangerous person and an enemy of society. If 
 he carries out these practices at King's Lyndon I 
 shall have Longstaffe burned over my head by the 
 farm labourers because I will not do like Mr. Sey- 
 mour. By the way, I think you will like King's 
 Lyndon that is, if you like the country." 
 
 " I love the country," answered Theodora. 
 
 " So do I, when I can get enough people from 
 town down there to make me feel that London is 
 not so far away, after all. Are you reading this?" 
 He picked up from the table the volume of Amiel 
 which Theodora had been reading. 
 
 " Yes," she replied.
 
 ^74 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 " Old Montaigne is a better man to read than 
 Amiel, and Voltaire best of all. Forty years ago I 
 would have been chased out of a London drawing- 
 room for saying so much, but now the ladies have 
 invaded our libraries, just as they have the smok- 
 ing-room." 
 
 "My reading is not very profound," said Ma- 
 dame Fontarini. " I read, as I suppose all women 
 do, to find out in books some reflection of my own 
 mental and moral portrait." 
 
 " My dear lady, you are much too candid ; you 
 will never be able to pass as a superior person as 
 long as you say things like that." 
 
 "What is a superior person?" 
 
 " My sister, Lady Susan Battle, for example. She 
 married a Birmingham man with five daughters, 
 and Susan labours in the London season, and out of 
 the London season, to get those girls married." 
 
 Madame Fontarini looked shocked; she was not 
 yet fully accustomed to the English frankness con- 
 cerning marriage. Lord Castlemaine saw this and 
 laughed. Madame Fontarini, with her distinction 
 of bearing, if not actual beauty, and her father's for- 
 tune, would perhaps not understand either the diffi- 
 culty or the necessity of marrying off the five plain 
 Battle girls, each with ten thousand pounds to her 
 fortune. He continued, much amused at the uncon- 
 scious amazement which shone in Madame Fontarini's 
 eyes. 
 
 " It would be easy enough to get young stock-
 
 THE PORTAL OF THE HEART 75 
 
 brokers and rising barristers for those girls, but my 
 sister Susan is ambitious. She wants all her 
 step-daughters to marry the eldest sons of dukes. 
 For some occult reason she thinks that I could bring 
 it about, and regards me as a brute because I don't. 
 You must know Lady Susan excellent person. I 
 will make her call on you." 
 
 Just then the door was opened and Marsac was 
 announced. He seated himself, and demanded tea 
 and silence, while he told a thrilling tale. 
 
 " This afternoon I demanded liberty of my chief, 
 who would have kept me at the Embassy. I re- 
 volted when Madame Marsac would have shut me 
 up in a brougham and taken me around to pay 
 duty calls. I said, ' No, I go to Madame Fonta- 
 rini's to pour out my soul to her.' Madame Marsac 
 accepted this meekly, seeing a furious determination 
 in my eye. I have met a couple of Americans 
 not Anglo-Americans, nor Franco-Americans, nor 
 any other hyphenated Americans, but the unadul- 
 terated Americans." 
 
 " How lucky," murmured Theodora. 
 
 " It was in the train coming up from Brighton, 
 day before yesterday. A young man got in un- 
 mistakably American also his sister, Dot. Dot 
 is about six feet tall, with glorious black eyes, wide 
 apart, superb teeth, such as you Americans affect 
 I understand that Americans are in the hands of 
 dentists from the cradle to the grave. Dot, how- 
 ever, was charming, that I must admit, and ordered
 
 76 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 her brother around with a Napoleonic air also, the 
 common heritage of the American woman. The young 
 man, Wyndham, I soon found out was a journalist, 
 and as I have always yearned after my early pro*- 
 fession, I began to talk with him. And Dot imme- 
 diately hurled herself into the conversation. They 
 were a brother and sister travelling in Europe, with 
 oceans of money to spend. The rich journalist, 
 you know, is also peculiar to America. " Dot, who 
 is only eighteen, and who has not yet been presented 
 to society, appears to be in charge of her brother, 
 who is about thirty. Wyndham spoke the American 
 language in all its purity. He had been in Paris 
 and had met a number of French journalists there. 
 I asked him if he felt at home among them, to which 
 he replied: 
 
 " ' No, I felt like a ham sandwich at a Jew picnic.' 
 " Dot promptly reproved her brother ; she herself 
 spoke a delightful mixture of English and Ameri- 
 can. The curious part of it was that I understood 
 every word and phrase of the American language. 
 For instance, when Wyndham told me that a certain 
 banking concern had * busted,' I comprehended at 
 once. Dot reminded her brother that he should 
 say 'bursted,' but Wyndham replied that the best 
 authorities agreed that the ' r ' in bursted was su- 
 perfluous, and * busted ' was the classic form of 
 the word. I had never understood so fully what is 
 called the Oriental spaciousness of the American 
 mind, until I talked with Wyndham."
 
 THE PORTAL OF THE HEART 77 
 
 " I am always delighted to hear my country- 
 people praised," said Theodora. 
 
 "Living in England is the crumpled rose leaf 
 in your fate," remarked Lord Castlemaine. 
 
 " I was so fascinated," continued Marsac, " with 
 Wyndham and Dot, who, by the way, was exquis- 
 itely dressed, like all the rest of your country women 
 that I have ever met, Madame, that I gave Wynd- 
 ham my card. He handed me his in return. He and 
 Dot are stopping at one of the swellest London 
 hotels. Dot has neither maid nor chaperon, but ap- 
 pears entirely superior to both. Wyndham, it seems, 
 has very good letters of introduction, and the two 
 have been to some excellent houses. Imagine my 
 pleasure, when, last night, at a great dinner given 
 by the editor of a big London newspaper, I found 
 Wyndham and Dot on hand. Dot wore a magnifi- 
 cent gown, which Madame Marsac admired so much 
 I fear it has wrecked my domestic peace for ever, 
 and was aglitter with diamond brooches and pins, 
 and things all over her. In the drawing-room 
 before dinner, Dot engaged in conversation with a 
 member of parliament and a retired major general. 
 Her aplomb was perfect. She looked thoroughly 
 disgusted when she was handed over to a nice boy, 
 Jack Thornycroft, to be taken down to dinner; I 
 think she expected the member of parliament, at 
 least." 
 
 " My sister, Lady Susan Battle, was there," said 
 Lord Castlemaine, laughing. " She had with her
 
 78 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 Jane, her eldest step-daughter, who really is not 
 so bad, after all." 
 
 " I saw Lady Susan and Mr. Battle and the 
 young lady. I have the honour of their acquaint- 
 ance," replied Marsac. 
 
 " Lady Susan was raging this morning be- 
 cause your friend, Dot, was given to the Thorny- 
 croft boy, who is the eldest son of a baronet. Lady 
 Susan likes eldest sons." 
 
 Marsac, demanding a second cup of tea, pro- 
 ceeded : 
 
 " The boy appeared to succumb immediately to 
 Dot's black eyes and brilliant smile, and loftily su- 
 perior manner. Meanwhile, my friend Wyndham, 
 who had taken Miss Battle down, seemed equally 
 charmed with her." 
 
 Lord Castlemaine chuckled at this, without men- 
 tioning what amused him ; the notion of Lady Su- 
 san with an American son-in-law would have made a 
 graven image smile. 
 
 " 1 should like very much to know my interesting 
 compatriots," said Madame Fontarini. " I should 
 be glad if Mr. Wyndham would call to see me." 
 
 " What an amusing people you are, after all ! " 
 cried Lord Castlemaine. "You never saw or heard 
 of these people before, yet, with your American so- 
 cial recklessness, you are ready to rush into an 
 acquaintance with them. Marsac, of course, is an 
 outlaw and prides himself on knowing all the knife- 
 grinders and rat-catchers in town."
 
 THE PORTAL OF THE HEART 79 
 
 Lord Castlemaine had known and liked Marsac 
 for twenty years and they often sharpened their 
 wit, one upon the other. 
 
 " But you can't expect so much conservation of 
 us, as of you," answered Madame Fontarini. " I 
 am willing to take M. Marsac's word, for both Mr. 
 Wyndham and his sister Dot, and what is more 
 natural, than that exiles as we are, my father and 
 I, we should be eager to meet some of our own 
 country-people ? " 
 
 Lord Castlemaine, amused and incredulous, shook 
 his head. 
 
 " I have long ago come to the conclusion," he 
 said, " that no one born in a monarchy can under- 
 stand one born in a republic; and no one born in a 
 republic can understand one born in a monarchy. 
 Your country-people, my dear Madame Fontarini, 
 are full of quaint surprises, and that is what makes 
 you so charming." 
 
 The visit of Lord Castlemaine and Marsac was 
 long and agreeable, and when Lord Castlemaine 
 rose to leave he insisted that Marsac should go, too, 
 declaring he could not leave his reputation in Mar- 
 sac's hands. The two went down the staircase 
 arm in arm, laughing and chaffing each other. 
 Madame Fontarini's parting injunction to Marsac 
 was to be sure and bring Wyndham and Dot to 
 call. 
 
 The mental exhilaration produced by the con- 
 versation with two such men as Lord Castlemaine
 
 80 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 and Marsac lifted Theodora out of her mood of 
 loneliness and despondency. She did not return to 
 her book, but taking up her violin played a soft lit- 
 tle air upon it, as she walked up and down the large 
 room. 
 
 The afternoon was closing in and a little fire on 
 the hearth threw a red light upon her graceful 
 figure and trailing gown of pale yellow. She did 
 not hear, upon the thickly carpeted staircase, the 
 step of the footman who escorted Lord Fermor to 
 the door, nor even the first announcement of his 
 name. Fermor had a good view of her for half a 
 minute as she stood drawing her bow with a long 
 graceful motion over the strings. She showed no 
 surprise at his entrance, but laying down her violin, 
 greeted him with perfect ease. 
 
 One of the things which Fermor disliked most in 
 his social life was the rapture with which he, the 
 prospective heir to an earldom, was received in a Lon- 
 don drawing-room. He also rebelled against the 
 strange convention of English society, by which an 
 eligible bachelor is practically forbidden to pay the 
 smallest civility to an unmarried woman without 
 having his intentions eagerly canvassed. He recog- 
 nised instantly that Madame Fontarini, composed 
 and unaffected, was neither embarrassed nor elated 
 at his visit. She offered him a cup of tea and Fer- 
 mor, for the first time in his life, felt himself en- 
 tirely at ease when alone with a lady who might 
 consider him a desirable parti.
 
 THE PORTAL OF THE HEART 81 
 
 " Lord Castlemaine was kind enough to call to 
 see me this afternoon," said Theodora, following a 
 short pause. 
 
 " So I know," replied Fermor. " I was in the act 
 of coming myself, when I saw my father leaving the 
 house, and, as I did not wish to have a collision, I 
 postponed my visit until his was over." 
 
 Then Theodora, busying herself with the tea- 
 cups, explained to Fermor, as she had explained to 
 Lord Castlemaine, the reasons for her father's ab- 
 sence, and Fermor, like Lord Castlemaine, was se- 
 cretly surprised. Something in the atmosphere and 
 soft firelight, the vast silent house, made their con- 
 versation grow personal and almost intimate, from 
 the beginning. Lord Fermor spoke of King's Lyn- 
 don, saying: 
 
 " I am glad to know that the place will be in the 
 hands of persons who will maintain it as it should 
 be. It has been a regret to me to see it going to 
 rack and ruin, and it was not in my father's power 
 to restore it." 
 
 Madame Fontarini, with her woman's wit, dis- 
 cerned in Fermor's guarded word that he was at- 
 tached to King's Lyndon, and giving it up perma- 
 nently would be to him a sacrifice, necessary, it is 
 true, but none the less painful. 
 
 " I was charmed with the place when I saw it," 
 she said. " My father, of course, insisted that I 
 should see it before he leased it, so I went down with 
 him and we spent the day there."
 
 82 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 " Wonderful are American fathers," thought 
 Fermor. 
 
 " I believe in restoration, but not changes," con- 
 tinued Madame Fontarini. " We concluded to live 
 in the west wing. There is a charming little draw- 
 ing-room, opening on the terrace, and I determined 
 that it should be mine. Everything in it pleased me 
 and I shall have it restored exactly as it was origin- 
 ally." 
 
 " That was my mother's morning room," answered 
 Fermor. " She died when I was a little chap, only 
 five years old, and my only recollection of her is 
 sitting in that room and walking up and down the 
 terrace, holding me by the hand. King's Lyndon came 
 to us through my mother. Longstaffe, our other 
 place, is only ten miles off, so I shall ask the privi- 
 lege of paying my respects to you when you are 
 established at King's Lyndon." 
 
 " It will give my father and me much pleasure, 
 and I hope we shall be good neighbours." 
 
 Then the conversation turned upon Rome. Theo- 
 dora spoke readily in general terms of Roman life, 
 font sedulously avoided any allusion to her own un- 
 happy Roman experience. Fermor, pleased and 
 soothed as men are by a sympathetic woman, was 
 beginning to feel that Lord Castlemaine's sug- 
 gestion concerning Madame Fontarini was far 
 from preposterous. He was wearied and scepti- 
 cal concerning what, in his own life, women had 
 called their love for him, and thought when
 
 THE PORTAL OF THE HEART 83 
 
 he married he would rather like the arrange- 
 ment to be one of friendship and suitability. The 
 French plan had always seemed to him rather more 
 promising of happiness than the English plan. 
 He felt tolerably sure that if a woman possessed 
 enough of charm, of breeding, of intelligence, to 
 make him willing to spend the rest of his life with 
 her, she would in the end become mistress of his 
 heart. Girls had been thrown at his head, as they 
 are at the heads of all men in England of Fermor's 
 rank. This is a thing universally detested by all 
 men, but most of all by Fermor. 
 
 Madame Fontarini, with her attraction of person 
 and fortune, would have a large choice in marriage, 
 and Fermor, while listening to her tea-table talk, so 
 different from that of the Englishwoman, was think- 
 ing it was certainly much more flattering to be 
 chosen from others by a woman like Madame Fon- 
 tarini, than to become the quarry of a man-chasing 
 mother and daughter. In the midst of their quiet 
 talk fell a bomb. 
 
 "Will you pardon me for asking," said Madame 
 Fontarini, " if the lady with whom I saw you talking 
 at Patersham House is Mrs, Bellenden, of Chester 
 Street?" 
 
 Fermor put down his tea cup, and, schooled though 
 he was, Theodora saw unmistakable surprise on his 
 part. 
 
 " Yes," he answered briefly. 
 
 "I meant to ask the question of M. Marsac,"
 
 84 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 said Theodora, with a frank smile, " but forgot 
 it. I have met Mrs. Bellenden several times in driv- 
 ing, and she has always stared at me, I think most 
 disagreeably. You may imagine my surprise when 
 to-day she left cards upon me. I was not at home 
 and did not see her, but I questioned the servant, 
 and there is no doubt the visit was meant for me. I 
 shall leave my card on her, but I don't intend to be- 
 gin a visiting acquaintance with Mrs. Bellenden. 
 Her air is very insolent." 
 
 Fermor was silent and Madame Fontarini con- 
 tinued, laughing as she spoke: 
 
 " I see you are quite shocked at my mentioning 
 Mrs. Bellenden's name. Nobody ever mentions 
 names in England, but remember I am an American 
 and have been in England only a little while, and 
 many things are still strange to me." 
 
 Fermor grasped in an instant Mrs. Bellenden's 
 motive, for the mere fact that Madame Fontarini 
 lived in the next house to Castlemaine House and 
 would preside over King's Lyndon, certainly for the 
 next six months, was enough to start rumors, which 
 Mrs. Bellenden had heard or isurmised. It was 
 hateful to Fermor that he could not keep wholly clear 
 of Flora Bellenden. He felt a strong desire to warn 
 Madame Fontarini against Mrs. Bellenden, but he, 
 of all men, could least do that. The silence was 
 becoming awkward, when the sound of a cab stop- 
 ping at the door and a step upon the pavement was 
 heard.
 
 THE PORTAL OF THE HEART 85 
 
 " That is my father ! " cried Theodora, rising 
 and going to the window. " Major Ashburton is 
 with him. You may know," she said, turning to 
 Fermor, who had risen also, " he has been just as 
 much interested in Barotti's child as my father." 
 
 Nothing could surprise Fermor any more that 
 afternoon, not even the deeply affectionate greet- 
 ing between Madame Fontarini and her father, who 
 entered the drawing-room as Fermor was about to 
 leave it. 
 
 " I am delighted to see you," cried Seymour, 
 shaking hands warmly with Fermor. " We are 
 neighbours not only in town, but shall be in the 
 country." 
 
 And then, before he could carry out his inten- 
 tion of introducing Ashburton to Fermor, the two 
 men greeted each other like old friends. 
 
 " Come," cried Theodora to her father and Ash- 
 burton, whom she was sincerely glad to see, " let 
 me give you some tea, and hear all about Barotti's 
 boy, and your own heroism. Papa, I have had a 
 levee this afternoon, Lord Castlemaine first, and 
 then M. Marsac, Lord Fermor, Major Ashburton 
 and yourself." 
 
 She showed so much animation that Seymour was 
 delighted. It was long since he had seen her so in- 
 terested. A few months ago she would have refused 
 with languor and indifference to see anyone. 
 
 " You really must remain," said Seymour, in 
 his hearty American way, to Fermor, and Fermor
 
 86 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 for the first time in his life sat down again after 
 making his adieux. Seymour and Theodora did 
 most of the talking. Ashburton was naturally a 
 silent man, and Fermor's brain was still busy with 
 the annoyance of Mrs. Bellenden's visit. 
 
 Barotti's child was getting quite well, with every- 
 thing done for him, and as soon as the boy was 
 able he was to be taken to Bournemouth. Seymour 
 declared he had quite enjoyed his quarantine, which 
 had been mitigated by visits from Ashburton. It 
 was plain the two men understood each other well 
 and had become friends. Quite half an hour passed, 
 from the time Seymour and Ashburton arrived, un- 
 til Fermor and Ashburton departed together. 
 
 A family Vidocq, in the person of Lady Susan 
 Battle, had seen from her own drawing-room win- 
 dow, Fermor enter the Seymour house and leave 
 it, after what Lady Susan considered a scandalous 
 length of time. 
 
 " It is all settled," she remarked despairingly to 
 Jane. " There is not even a chance of you being 
 bridesmaid at the wedding, because widows don't 
 have bridesmaids. It is entirely the King's fault 
 and he will have a heavy reckoning to answer for 
 in letting the best matches in England go to these 
 Americans. Of course, a spoiled minx, as this 
 Madame Fontarini must be, can never get along 
 with Fermor. They will disagree in a year, and 
 mark my words, in less than five years there will 
 be a separation and Fermor will not be five thousand
 
 THE PORTAL OF THE HEART 87 
 
 pounds better off than if he had never married an 
 American fortune. Then, there will be a horrid 
 scandal and it will reflect upon the whole family con- 
 nection, and the King will be at the bottom of it. I 
 shall not hesitate to say that everywhere." 
 
 Fermor, however, was not thinking about Amer- 
 ican fortunes, or the sins of King Edward VII. He 
 was cursing himself and Mrs. Bellenden from the 
 bottom of his sincere heart.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE PERPLEXITIES or LADY SUSAN 
 
 LADY SUSAN'S troubles and perplexities concerning 
 Americans were by no means confined to Lord Fer- 
 mor and Madame Fontarini, but came even nearer 
 home. With a suddenness that appalled not only 
 Lady Susan, but honest Joshua Battle, Wyndham 
 and his sister, the tall beauty who went by the 
 name of Dot, seemed to become inexplicably en- 
 tangled with the Battle family. 
 
 Nothing would have induced Lady Susan to call 
 on Miss Wyndham, or to allow her in the splendid 
 Battle house, but destiny, in a spirit of dread play- 
 fulness, arranged that the Battles and the Wynd- 
 hams should meet six days running, at different 
 garden parties, at flower shows, in picture galleries, 
 at Hurlingham, and, in short, it seemed that Jane 
 Battle and Wyndham were together on all occasions. 
 
 Lady Susan's idea of a New York journalist was 
 an individual who earned something like two pounds 
 the week, and was purchasable at a low rate by any 
 political party. Wyndham dressed well and lived at 
 a good hotel, all of which Lady Susan supposed to 
 be acquired by nefarious means. When she discovered 
 that he had a good suite of rooms at a first-class 
 hotel, she at once concluded that the hotel gave him 
 
 88
 
 PERPLEXITIES OF LADY SUSAN 89 
 
 his living free in order to get the advertising. Dot's 
 gowns and hats, which were really works of art, 
 Lady Susan concluded were got by the same means, 
 and she easily convinced herself that Wyndham 
 and his sister were a couple of dangerous adven- 
 turers, from whom her flock of step-daughters should 
 be rigidly guarded. She was scarcely surprised 
 when at a very large and smart garden party, the 
 first persons she saw were Wyndham and Dot. 
 Lady Susan turned a warning eye upon Jane, who 
 had been previously notified to keep Wyndham at 
 bay if possible. Jane honestly meant to obey, but 
 she had no way of avoiding Wyndham except by 
 frankly running away, when he made straight to- 
 ward her, and engaged in animated conversation. To 
 make the matter worse, at that very moment Jack 
 Thorny croft appeared and was promptly confiscated, 
 according to Lady Susan's opinion, by Dot. It was 
 plain, however, that he was a willing captive as he 
 walked with her toward the tea table. He was 
 not, however, allowed to enjoy his prize long, for 
 in ten minutes Dot had left him absolutely in the 
 lurch, in favour of an Under Secretary of State, old 
 enough to be her grandfather. 
 
 Lady Susan turned from this revolting spectacle 
 to find Wyndham deep in conversation with Jane, 
 When Lady Susan made a prompt and determined 
 sortie, meant to rescue Jane, Wyndham executed 
 a flank movement, by which, before Lady Susan 
 knew it, she was seated at the same table with him
 
 90 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 and Joshua Battle's eldest born, who was destined 
 never to become Countess of Castlemaine. It was 1 
 all very simple. Wyndham, who was by nature a 
 strategist of the first order, hailed a passing waiter, 
 found a little table in the greenest and coolest 
 corner of the garden, and carried Jane off under 
 Lady Susan's indignant eye. Then, having se- 
 cured his Sabine prey, he returned to Lady Susan, 
 standing wrathful and astonished in the garden walk, 
 and said in the most insinuating manner: 
 
 " I asked for tea for three, and it is there on the 
 table. Permit me to escort you." 
 
 It was quite impossible that Jane should be 
 allowed to have tea alone with an American jour- 
 nalist in full sight of the smartest people in London ; 
 so Lady Susan was forced to go with Wyndham 
 in order to protect her step-daughter, as she felt 
 it in her own mind. 
 
 By way of preventing Jane from being beguiled 
 by this handsome and oily-tongued American, for 
 so Lady Susan was forced to admit Wyndham to 
 be, she herself took charge of the conversation. 
 
 " I suppose everything in England is very new 
 and interesting to you," she said sternly. 
 
 " Very interesting," replied Wyndham, " but 
 hardly new, as I have been here fifteen or twenty 
 times before." 
 
 " Then," said Lady Susan majestically, " you must 
 have spent the best part of your life here, for I 
 see you are still a young man.'"
 
 PERPLEXITIES OF LADY SUSAN 91 
 
 " Sometimes," said Wyndham, laughing, " I have 
 made the round trip between London and New York 
 in three weeks." 
 
 "Have you good hotels in New York?" asked 
 Lady Susan. 
 
 " Pretty fair," answered Wyndham. 
 
 Lady Susan then making some inquiries as to 
 the population and resources of the United States, 
 Wyndham proceeded to give her a rapid statistical 
 account of which she believed not one single word. 
 Even Jane, with innocent eyes fixed on Wyndham's 
 mobile and expressive face, felt a faint doubt of him 
 when he wound up by saying that the United States 
 could put fourteen millions of fighting men in the 
 field. Could it be that Wyndham was, as she had 
 heard all Americans were, a braggart? The sus- 
 picion carried a pang to Jane's gentle heart. 
 
 There was triumph in Lady Susan's eye. The 
 statements that the United States had fourteen mil- 
 lions of men capable of bearing arms, and had one 
 hundred cities each with over a hundred thousand 
 population, were, to her, gross and palpable 
 lies, like the Father who made them and all other 
 lies. 
 
 " It is a great pity," said Lady Susan, however, 
 " that you can't get decent people to go into 
 politics in your country." 
 
 Wyndham laughed at this. 
 
 " May I ask," he said, " how you got your infor- 
 mation ? "
 
 92 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 " From several Americans who live in England," 
 responded Lady Susan promptly. 
 
 " I should say," responded Wyndham, " that most 
 expatriated Americans ought to be in jail." 
 
 " Do you mean that they are criminals ? " cried 
 Lady Susan, who was ready to believe anything of 
 Americans. 
 
 " No, I didn't say they could be put in jail, I 
 merely said they ought to be in jail. They are the 
 disseminators of false information about their own 
 country, of which they generally know very little 
 and care less." 
 
 Then Wyndham turned the conversation toward 
 Jane in a manner which Lady Susan thought simply 
 scandalous. This consisted in paying the girl adroit 
 compliments, and, what was really alarming, Jane 
 seemed to like them. 
 
 Lady Susan rose, determined to take her step- 
 daughter out of such dangerous company, but she 
 found Wyndham not easily thrown over. He re- 
 mained by Jane's side, where he had been ever since 
 she entered the garden. This meant, in the eyes of 
 Lady Susan and her world, but one thing, that the 
 man in the case was prepared to make the girl an 
 offer of marriage at the first convenient season. 
 Anything more horrifying, Lady Susan could not 
 contemplate. The daughters of Joshua Battle would 
 each have on her marriage ten thousand pounds 
 down, a sum not to be despised, and more at the 
 death of their father. It was Lady Susan's am-
 
 PERPLEXITIES OF LADY SUSAN 93 
 
 bition that her step-daughter should profit by their 
 connection with the house of Castlemaine. But 
 if people should see this American savage, for so 
 Lady Susan reckoned Wyndham to be, whose mother 
 was probably a chambermaid, and his father a 
 bootblack, it would be enough to ruin Jane's pros- 
 pects for that season, if not for ever. The one thing 
 left was to take Jane away, which, Lady Susan 
 promptly proceeded to do. 
 
 Wyndham escorted them to the carriage and bade 
 them a cordial farewell, promising to send Jane a 
 book on America out of which she could get some 
 facts, instead of the pipe dreams, as he called them, 
 which prevailed in England on American matters. 
 
 Once in the big landau, Lady Susan's wrath ex- 
 ploded. 
 
 " I have read in the newspapers," she said in- 
 dignantly to Jane, " that Americans were presump- 
 tuous, and now I know it. Anything to exceed the 
 presumption of that young man I have never seen 
 in my life." 
 
 " He did not do anything, mamma, except be 
 civil to us," said Jane meekly. Though meek, Jane 
 was not timid. She liked Wyndham and could not 
 be terrorised into saying she did not. 
 
 " Remember this, however," said Lady Susan, in 
 what Lord Castlemaine irreverently called her 
 parade-ground voice, "there is to be no repetition 
 of what occurred this afternoon. It was most detri- 
 mental to you, my dear, from every point of view."
 
 94 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 Jane said nothing. Something of Wyndham's 
 own free and independent spirit, his frankness, his 
 open liking for her, had communicated itself to her. 
 The germ of independence was stirring in her gentle 
 breast, and she made no promises to keep Wyndham 
 at a distance. To her clearer understanding, Wynd- 
 ham's attentions, although far more significant than 
 he supposed them to be, were not what Lady Susan 
 understood them. 
 
 " Mr. Wyndhant says," she said to her step- 
 mother, as the carriage rolled through the Park, 
 " that in America it is quite natural for men and 
 girls to be good friends, without meaning anything 
 more. I think it must be very pleasant to be able 
 to know an agreeable man and talk with him, without 
 anybody remarking upon it, or wanting to know if 
 he wishes to marry one. That is what I hate," 
 cried Jane, with sudden courage. " If people would 
 only stop talking about one! Every time a man 
 looks at one of us, people are wondering whether he 
 knows about our ten thousand pounds, and what 
 kind of a settlement he can make, and if the match 
 will be too grand for our father's family, or not 
 grand enough for yours, mamma." 
 
 Lady Susan was amazed. The modern way of 
 a girl asserting herself was very painful to ladies 
 of the early Victorian type, and Lady Susan felt 
 it her duty to check it. Jane had always been so 
 respectful, so admirable a step-daughter, that it was 
 hard for Lady Susan to find fault with her. How-
 
 PERPLEXITIES OF LADY SUSAN 95 
 
 ever, she was sternly admonished to avoid Wyndham 
 in future. Jane received these commands in silence, 
 but not acquiescence. 
 
 Next morning Jane came into Lady Susan's 
 morning room, bringing a book. 
 
 " This is what Mr. Wyndham sent me by post 
 this morning," she said. " It is all about America, 
 and I have looked at it and, really, what Mr. Wynd- 
 ham was telling us yesterday was perfectly true." 
 
 Lady Susan examined the book carefully to make 
 sure that there was not a love letter concealed among 
 its pages of statistics, but finding nothing, she only 
 remarked, as she handed it back: 
 
 " Recollect, Jane, that man is capable of any- 
 thing. I see plainly that he intends to ask you to 
 marry him very shortly, and you must make him 
 understand when he forces his offer upon you that it 
 cannot be considered for one moment." 
 
 "I don't think he means to make an offer," re- 
 marked Jane, blushing deeply. " He has never said 
 anything to me except what was merely friendly." 
 
 At that moment Lady Susan's attention was dis- 
 tracted by a splendid touring car stopping in front 
 of the house, from which descended Dot, while 
 Wyndham remained seated in the car. There was 
 no time to tell the footman that the ladies were not 
 at home, and before Lady Susan or Jane could catch 
 breath, in marched Dot. There was something 
 splendid and overpowering in her personality. It 
 was not the soft, seductive charm of Madame Fon-
 
 96 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 tarini, who had known sorrow and shame and loss, 
 and who had been worsted in her conflict with the 
 world, and knew its cruel power. This tall young 
 beauty, so far, had everything her own way and had 
 taken the world by storm. She swept into the room'; 
 her dress ruthlessly elegant, her manner determinedly 
 affable. 
 
 " I must beg your pardon," she said, smiling, while 
 her black eyes fearlessly examined Lady Susan, " for 
 presenting myself at such an hour of the morning, 
 but I wish to engage a maid who has given you as a 
 reference." 
 
 Lady Susan was staggered. Hotel rooms and 
 fine clothes and even automobiles may be had without 
 payment, if used as advertisement, so Lady Susan 
 had heard, but maids could not be had without 
 money, and what use could the sister of a journalist 
 have for a maid anyhow? 
 
 Miss Wyndham's questions concerning the maid 
 would have done credit to forty instead of eighteen, 
 in their comprehensiveness. When she had figura- 
 tively turned both Lady Susan and the maid inside 
 out, she rose to go, saying to Jane, who felt that 
 same strange affinity with this beautiful barbarian 
 that she had with Wyndham himself. 
 
 " It was so nice to see you at the garden party 
 yesterday. My brother was perfectly charmed with 
 you." 
 
 Then she was gone, and the motor car whirled 
 away from the door magnificently.
 
 PERPLEXITIES OF LADY SUSAN 97 
 
 " Such impertinence," gasped Lady Susan, " to 
 intrude herself into this house ! No doubt she wished 
 an invitation to call, but she got none." 
 
 " She didn't say anything that looked like it," 
 responded Jane. "Her errand was quite legiti- 
 mate." 
 
 Lady Susan glanced suspiciously at Jane. Was 
 it possible ? No, the idea was not to be enter- 
 tained. 
 
 Jane, however, did not think it necessary to men- 
 tion she had said to Wyndham that on the present 
 afternoon she was going to an exhibition of pictures 
 in Bond Street, and Wyndham had intimated he 
 would be likely to want to see those identical pic- 
 tures himself. 
 
 By the time Lady Susan had recovered from the 
 shock of Wyndham's attentions the day before, and 
 Dot's apparition in the morning, and the flock of 
 Battle girls had chirped and twittered over Wynd- 
 ham's attentions to Jane, the afternoon came and 
 Lady Susan marshalled her step-daughters to the 
 picture show. And there, towering over most of the 
 men present, was Dot, radiantly dressed, and her 
 brother, whose sleek dark head just reached her 
 shoulder, was on hand. 
 
 Lady Susan tried to protect Jane, but could not 
 prevent a subtle interchange of remarks between her 
 and Wyndham, which was dangerously near an ap- 
 pointment to meet later in the week. Wyndham 
 boldly inquired where Jane would be found on the
 
 98 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 Saturday afternoon, and Jane promptly replied 
 that she would be at Hurlingham. 
 
 " So will I," said Wyndham, looking her in the 
 eye with that solemnity which Jane had discovered 
 Americans adopted when making a joke. 
 
 At the end of ten days, Wyndham's persecution of 
 Jane, so Lady Susan called it, compelled her to lay 
 the matter before her brother, Lord Castlemainc. 
 She had laid it before Joshua Battle at the rate of 
 three times a day during the whole ten days, but Mr. 
 Battle had declared, with perfect truth and candour, 
 that if Lady Susan could not stop the affair, cer- 
 tainly he could not. 
 
 Lady Susan then called upon Lord Castlemaine to 
 forbid Wyndham to speak to or look at Jane. 
 
 " Why ? " asked Lord Castlemaine, laughing. 
 " With five unmarried girls on your hands I should 
 think you would hail Wyndham's advances." 
 
 Lady Susan explained that Wyndham was prob- 
 ably an adventurer; that his salary could hardly be 
 more than a hundred pounds a year; that he no 
 doubt got his rooms at a first-class hotel, his clothes 
 and his motor as advertisement ; that no doubt he 
 was after Jane's ten thousand pounds, and, worse 
 than all, he was an American. 
 
 " And so far," said Lady Susan majestically, 
 looking full at Fermor, who was present, " our fam- 
 ily has escaped an American connection. I should 
 regret very much if the first introduction of that 
 undesirable element should occur through me."
 
 PERPLEXITIES OF LADY SUSAN 99 
 
 " Oh Lord ! " said Lord Castlemaine. " Here am 
 I doing everything I can to introduce an American 
 element into the family through Madame Fontarini 
 and Fermor." 
 
 Fermor took this allusion with great outward 
 calmness, but inwardly he rather resented that any- 
 thing so delicate and intangible as the feeling which 
 was dawning in his heart toward Theodora should 
 be dragged out and exhibited in Lord Castlemaine's 
 usual fashion. 
 
 " American money may be useful and even neces- 
 sary in some cases," replied Lady Susan, "but not 
 in the case of Mr. Battle's daughters." 
 
 " It is not altogether money," continued Lord 
 Castlemaine. " Madame Fontarini herself counts for 
 a good deal in the game. She does not look like 
 most women. I like that black hair of hers done up 
 so simply, and the way she avoids rings and chains 
 and earrings. Besides, she is a very interesting 
 woman. I expect to keep up a visiting acquaintance 
 with her when she is established at King's Lyndon, 
 and I shall go to her garden party next week. All, 
 of course, with a view of fostering an alliance be- 
 tween our two houses." 
 
 Lord Castlemaine grinned as he fired this last 
 shot, and Fermor rose. 
 
 " Really," he said, " this is getting too personal 
 for a bashful man like myself. I feel obliged to 
 leave." 
 
 Then, by way of finishing up Lady Susan and the
 
 100 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 conversation at the same time, Lord Castlemaiiie 
 remarked : 
 
 " The only difficulty in the way is whether Ma- 
 dame Fontarini will take Fermor or not, and whether 
 an alliance with the house of Castlemaine is good 
 enough for her." 
 
 This sentence acted exactly as Lord Castlemaine 
 wished, and reduced Lady Susan to amazed and in- 
 dignant silence.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 WEAVING AND UNWEAVING 
 
 IT was now late in June, and the season gained im- 
 petus as it rushed toward its conclusion. 
 
 Theodora and her father were eager to get away 
 from town, but King's Lyndon had been suffered to 
 fall into such decay that workmen were necessary 
 to make even one wing fairly comfortable. Theo- 
 dora had been sufficiently roused from her sadness 
 to go out a little into society, but not enough to, 
 open the splendid town house and entertain as her 
 father would have wished. She agreed, however, 
 to give a small party in the spacious garden at the 
 back of the mansion, and at this evidence of her 
 renewed interest in life Seymour rejoiced. 
 
 When Madame Fontarini made out her list of 
 invitations, she smiled slightly at some of the names. 
 Major Ashburton, she particularly wished to come. 
 There was something in him which to her sensitive 
 mind gave dignity to any company in which he ap- 
 peared. But she knew instinctively that he did not 
 often go to garden parties, and in sending him a 
 card she wrote a pretty little note besides. She 
 felt a secret desire that Fermor should come, and an 
 inward conviction that he would be there. 
 
 In looking over her visiting book, she found the 
 
 101
 
 102 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 name of Mrs. Bellenden. Theodora glanced at it, 
 and then with her small firm hand drew a line 
 through the name. She had heard nothing, and 
 knew nothing of Mrs. Bellenden, except the im- 
 pertinence of her stare, and her unexpected visit. 
 Madame Fontarini had returned the visit upon a 
 day other than the one named on Mrs. Bellenden's 
 card, and within ten minutes of having seen Mrs. 
 Bellenden driving in the Park. This species of 
 snub, known only to women and diplomats, but per- 
 fectly understood by them, was quite intelligible to 
 Mrs. Bellenden, but she did not so well understand 
 the person with whom she was dealing. She classi- 
 fied Madame Fontarini as a woman accustomed to 
 primitive social conditions, which Mrs. Bellenden 
 thought prevailed in America, and as a person who 
 could be intimidated. She would go again to the 
 house in Queen's Gate, and take her chances of 
 getting in. 
 
 Not once had she seen Fermor except to bow to 
 him from her carriage, since their parting. Two 
 or three times Tom Bellenden had asked her what 
 had become of Fermor, and to this Mrs. Bellenden 
 replied readily that she supposed Fermor was of- 
 fended with her because she had spoken rather freely 
 concerning Madame Fontarini, and it was said that 
 Lord Castlemaine not only meant to sell King's 
 Lyndon to Seymour at a high price, but to sell Fer- 
 mor's rank as well. 
 
 " It seems to me ? " said Bellenden, in his slow fash-
 
 WEAVING AND UNWEAVING 103 
 
 Ion, " it would be a good thing for Fermor to marry 
 and go into public life. I noticed he has been rest- 
 less for a long time. I am sorry, however, that you 
 and he have fallen out." 
 
 It was on that same afternoon that Mrs. Bellen- 
 den determined to repeat her visit to Madame Fon- 
 tarini. A number of carriages and motors were in 
 the street, but there were other houses open besides 
 Madame Fontarini's, and the season was coming 
 down the home stretch. 
 
 The great doors opened at Mrs. Bellenden's ap- 
 proach, and she was invited, somewhat to her sur- 
 prise, through the ground floor suite and into the 
 great green garden beyond. It was very beauti- 
 ful, as even a city garden may be when there is 
 openness and space. Against the rose-red walls 
 were rows of dwarf trees, gladiolus and oleanders in 
 tubs, while great masses of azaleas and other splen- 
 did flowering plants made a riot of colour. In the 
 midst of the green expanse of velvet turf stood 
 Madame Fontarini and Seymour, receiving their 
 guests. 
 
 Mrs. Bellenden realised at once that she was an 
 uninvited guest, but the policy of rashness was hers. 
 She advanced through the groups of gaily dressed 
 women and more men than she had ever seen at a 
 garden party before, to Theodora, and made an 
 explanation. 
 
 " I came to pay you a visit," she said, smiling, 
 " and I see you are having a party."
 
 "I am very glad to see you," replied Theodora, 
 but in her voice was that intonation which a woman's 
 ear can always catch, and which means, " Don't do 
 it again." 
 
 Seymour, however, with overflowing hospitality 
 and kindness of heart assured Mrs. Bellenden of 
 their great pleasure that she had happened in at 
 this time, and no doubt a card had been sent her 
 which she had not received. 
 
 Then, Mrs. Bellenden, smiling and full of sharp 
 curiosity, glanced about her. The party was very 
 distinguished, there was no question. The American 
 Ambassador and Ambassadress were present, and 
 other persons of the first fashion, but there were 
 also persons who were more interesting than fash- 
 ionable Major Ashburton, for example. 
 
 Lord Castlemaine was in great form, and Lady 
 Susan Battle, in a splendid purple satin gown and 
 loaded with jewels, was majestically convoying 
 Joshua Battle, who followed her at a respectful dis- 
 tance. Two of the Battle girls, Jane and Sarah, 
 were in her wake, and Lady Susan had found it im- 
 possible to keep at a distance Wyndham, who was 
 one of the first to arrive. 
 
 Miss Wyndham, having discovered that Mr. 
 Battle was an M. P., had descended upon him in all 
 the glory of her nineteen years, and a gorgeous 
 gown, hat and parasol fresh from the Rue de la 
 Paix, and was proceeding to discuss the Educational 
 Bill with him.
 
 WEAVING AND UNWEAVING 105 
 
 Marsac and his wife were there, but Mrs. Bellen- 
 den had no mind to give Marsac another chance to 
 repeat what she considered his insolence to her. 
 
 There was no sign of Fermor. Mrs. Bellenden, as 
 an accidental guest, made her visit short. It has 
 been said that no one knows pain who does not know 
 jealousy. Mrs. Bellenden was familiar with that 
 particular pain. She had the yearning of the primi- 
 tive woman for luxury, money, clothes, establish- 
 ments, and a retinue of servants. Here, everything 
 was splendidly and perfectly done, as who could not 
 do it well with unlimited wealth, such as Mrs. Bel- 
 lenden thought all Americans possessed? 
 
 As she was about to make her adieux, Wyndham 
 came up and spoke to her. He rather liked Mrs. 
 Bellenden's striking and effective style. She seemed 
 to him as primitive in her way as Seymour was in his. 
 She lived an artificial life in a natural manner. Mrs. 
 Bellenden was not averse to cultivating Americans 
 at that moment, as she was eager to find out if pos- 
 sible something concerning her host and hostess. 
 Therefore, she made another tour of the garden 
 with Wyndham after having said her farewells. She 
 was full of interest about Wyndham's profession, 
 and frankly curious to know how he could afford to 
 live in the way he did. 
 
 " That's easy enough," replied Wyndham, laugh- 
 ing. " You see, my father had a hand in what is 
 called high finance. I never had the least interest 
 in the subject. I was born with what is called
 
 106 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 a nose for news. At the University I edited the 
 student journal, and fought my way into journal- 
 ism afterward. I like to find out things. Marsac, 
 that agreeable French fellow, and I have it out 
 about three times a week on the subject of journal- 
 ism. He knows nothing about American journalism, 
 and I know nothing about French journalism, so 
 you may imagine we go round in a circle like a 
 squirrel in a cage. But we are jolly good friends 
 for all that." 
 
 " Are you finding out anything in England this 
 time? " asked Mrs. Bellenden, turning full upon him 
 her large blue eyes, and what was undoubtedly a 
 dazzling smile. 
 
 " Yes, indeed," answered Wyndham. " I am try- 
 ing to pick up the thread of a story that sounds like 
 what you call a * shilling shocker.' Do you know 
 what a ' trusty ' is? " 
 
 Mrs. Bellenden shook her head smilingly. 
 
 " Some strange American thing, I imagine," she 
 said. 
 
 " I think they are common everywhere," replied 
 Wyndham. " It was the Spaniards who found out 
 this system. I daresay you think that the Span- 
 iards never found out anything. Well, they had the 
 best penal system as well as the best system of 
 emancipation of slaves that the world ever saw, and 
 they knew a hundred years ago that tuberculosis 
 was a communicable disease. You see I've been trav- 
 elling in Spain, trying to find out about the * trusties.'
 
 WEAVING AND UNWEAVING 107 
 
 " But you haven't told me what a ' trusty' is? " 
 
 " It is a convict who has had a previous good rec- 
 ord and the warden of the jail sends him out on 
 errands. Of course, the man has to wear ordinary 
 clothes ; if he wore prison clothes he'd be jumped 
 on the instant he got out of the jailyard. They 
 very seldom violate their liberty because they are 
 intelligent enough to know that it means another 
 term in prison. But in the case of my ' trusty,' he 
 did everything according to contrary. He was a 
 model prisoner, who was serving a short term for 
 manslaughter hit a man and inadvertently killed 
 him. Just before his term expired, he was sent one 
 day to a little town two miles off. He disappeared 
 and apparently the earth opened and swallowed him 
 up. If a * trusty ' is fifteen minutes behind time his 
 absence is known, and so the hue and cry was raised 
 immediately. Now, it seems that friends of this 
 man had been working for his pardon with the Gov- 
 ernor of the State, and the pardon came just four 
 hours after the man disappeared." 
 
 Wyndham had a peculiarly effective and dramatic 
 way of telling things, and Mrs. Bellenden stood 
 still at the foot of the stone steps that led into the 
 garden, and leaned upon a marble vase to listen to 
 him. 
 
 " He was caught in the end ? " she asked. 
 
 " No, although he did the very thing of all others 
 most likely to lead to his detection. At the end of a 
 year a letter came from him somewhere in the West,
 
 enclosing a sum of money in gold to the warden to 
 be given to aid the discharged prisoners. Every 
 year for twenty years this money has come, and of 
 course it is impossible to trace gold pieces. For 
 many years past the money has been sent from vari- 
 ous countries in Europe. Then a vague rumour 
 grew current in the State that this man had made a 
 great pile of money. I became interested in the 
 yarn, and concluded to turn myself into a discov- 
 erer, and find this man in Europe, as Stanley found 
 Dr. Livingston in Africa. That is why I have been 
 in Spain. The man is generally regarded as the 
 most astute of escaped prisoners, but my theory 
 is exactly the contrary. I think his achievement 
 is altogether beyond that of the professional ab- 
 sconder, just as certain great lines are written, 
 not by great poets, but by men who did the trick 
 once, but knew not how they did it, and could not 
 repeat it. I think that the man is entirely without 
 art, and that his success in keeping out of the way 
 is due to a stupendous fluke." 
 
 " How very interesting," murmured Mrs. Bellen- 
 
 "You are the first person who said so," replied 
 Wyndham, laughing. " I have the reputation of be- 
 ing the greatest bore in the profession on the 
 strength of my Vidocq story, as I call it. The men 
 in the club in New York swore to have me turned 
 out if I mentioned the subject again. It is to get 
 even with these fellows, as much as anything else,
 
 WEAVING AND UNWEAVING 109 
 
 that I want to produce the man and take him back 
 in handcuffs to America. Every rich American of 
 respectable appearance whom I meet in Europe 
 I examine carefully to see if it is my man, but so 
 far he has eluded me." 
 
 Wyndham felt so grateful to Mrs. Bellenden for 
 listening to his pet story, that he accepted at once 
 an invitation she gave him to call. As Mrs. Bel- 
 lenden's carriage rolled away from Seymour's door, 
 Lord Fermor entered it. This was not a pleasant 
 sight for Mrs. Bellenden.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 KING'S LYNDON TELLS ITS STOEY 
 
 Two days after the garden party, Seymour and 
 Theodora found themselves at King's Lyndon. On 
 the first morning that Theodora awoke in the large 
 airy bedroom with its two great windows looking 
 over the beautiful but unkempt gardens, the green 
 and rolling park, she felt in her heart a sensation of 
 peace and rest, which she had scarcely known be- 
 fore in her life. Until her marriage she had ever 
 felt restless in Europe, yearning to return to Amer- 
 ica, and having all those golden illusions which 
 haunt the mind of a young girl concerning the na- 
 tive land that she had left when she was in the morn- 
 ing glow of childhood. 
 
 After her marriage there had been no peace or 
 rest for Theodora, and among the things hardest for 
 her to endure from Pietro Fontarini were the insults 
 he lavished upon his wife's country and country- 
 people. 
 
 In the first overwhelming years of her grief over 
 the death of her child, places mattered nothing to 
 her. Within the last year or two the desire to re- 
 turn to America had stirred strongly within her, 
 but it was the one wish of hers that Seymour did 
 not try to gratify. She had discovered in her 
 
 110
 
 KING'S LYNDON TELLS ITS STORY 111 
 
 father, who had heretofore seemed unable to say 
 nay to her, a fixed determination to remain in 
 Europe. The determination seemed strange to 
 Theodora, who with the eyes of a woman of thirty 
 saw that Seymour had little sympathy with any- 
 thing European; but Seymour for once declined to 
 gratify a wish of Theodora's. 
 
 She herself being given to thinking, had discovered 
 that there is an impassable gulf between the Amer- 
 ican and the monarchical view of everything from 
 farcical comedies up to the highest theories of gov- 
 ernment. Not all her European education had been 
 able to eradicate that innate haughtiness of republi- 
 canism which made her at eighteen unable to 
 feel any sense of elevation when she was admitted 
 into one of the oldest and greatest of Roman fam- 
 ilies. It was that, perhaps, which had made her see 
 Pietro Fontarini in his true light at an age when 
 a European girl would have accepted anything at 
 its assessed value. Deep in Theodora's heart was 
 a sharp sense of disappointment when she realised 
 that her life must henceforth be spent in an alien 
 land and among strangers who, however kind to her, 
 would yet ever be strangers and aliens to her. True, 
 she knew of no relations that she had in America, 
 but it was one of her sweetest dreams that could she 
 go there but once, she would find a family connec- 
 tion, people of her own blood, from whom she could 
 claim that family kindness and intimacy which she 
 had never known in her life. Now all this seemed
 
 impossible, and Theodora thought, as she lay in her 
 large canopied bed with faded red silk hangings, 
 that renunciation of this dream of home, perhaps 
 had brought her peace, as renunciation often brings. 
 But she was not without dreams. 
 
 Later in the morning, when Theodora and her 
 father walked about the house for the first time 
 with a sense of proprietorship, she felt a just in- 
 dignation against Lord Castlemaine. The picture 
 gallery, a splendid and lofty apartment running the 
 full length of the house, was absolutely bare. The 
 story of how the Romneys and Gainsboroughs, and 
 the entire accumulations of two hundred years, had 
 been eaten and drunk and gambled away, on horses, 
 cards and stocks, was one of the blackest marks 
 against Lord Castlemaine. Seymour spoke of this 
 to Theodora, as they stood together in the great 
 despoiled gallery, which looked as if an army of 
 Goths had camped there over night. 
 
 " This will be the most difficult part of the whole 
 thing to restore," said Seymour. " I don't know 
 anything about pictures, but I've seen enough of 
 them in Europe to know that objects of art can't be 
 bought like potatoes. What shall we do, my dear? " 
 
 Theodora shook her head. 
 
 " Let us go outside," she said, " and think about 
 it." 
 
 Nature is stronger than even a vandal like Lord 
 Castlemaine, and, like a cunning contriver, had 
 turned even neglect to her own advantage. The
 
 KING'S LYNDON TELLS ITS STORY 113 
 
 grass-grown terrace, the weather-stained statues, the 
 green old Italian gardens lying in the stillness of a 
 July noon, might have been the abode of the princess 
 who lay sleeping for ever. There were many dove- 
 cotes about, and the doves stepped with a kind 
 of timid boldness upon the balustrade of the ter- 
 race, and broke the silence with their soft cooing. 
 
 The house itself was a copy of the Little Trianon 
 in white free-stone. At the back, which faced the 
 gardens, was a long balustraded terrace of broken 
 flags upon which the rooms on that side opened. The 
 tall urns were empty and cracked, and a Naiad 
 stood dry and forlorn in a marble basin in which no 
 water swirled and danced. Below, stretched a noble 
 vista of lawns with gardens on either side. At the 
 foot of the lawns lay a piece of ornamental water, 
 the colour of the wings of the doves that tripped 
 watchfully on the terrace. At the farther end the 
 columns of a small Greek temple shone against the 
 tall, unkempt yew alleys, in which there was a 
 dim, green darkness in the brightest noon. Upon 
 the water, close to the edge, a group of water fowl, 
 bent on grave business, moved meditatively back and 
 forth. 
 
 The peace of the scene entered deeply into Theo- 
 dora's soul. The place had been ravaged and then 
 let alone. It bore a likeness to Theodora's fate. It 
 could be restored to all its original beauty, the love- 
 lier because of its mournful history. Theodora 
 asked herself if such might not also happen to her
 
 114 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 and was surprised to find a little wave of hope 
 surging in her heart. 
 
 As far as the interior of the house was concerned, 
 both Seymour and Theodora refrained from asking 
 too many questions and looking too closely into 
 things. The care-taker, who might also be called 
 the housekeeper, was Reyburn, a tall, dark, silent 
 woman who, Theodora speedily recognised, was by 
 no means the usual type of prim English upper 
 servant. Her husband, a shoemaker in the market 
 town of Lyndon, was the founder and leader of a 
 socialist club, which was a thorn in the flesh of both 
 political parties and of the church as well as the 
 state. The shoemaker had been paralysed in his 
 lower limbs and plied his trade and preached his 
 doctrines from a wheeled chair the gift of Lord 
 Fermor, as Reyburn herself promptly informed 
 Theodora. 
 
 "My husband," she said as she showed Theodora 
 over the ground floor, " is a sober, hard-working 
 man, and makes a fair living, although the gentry 
 and the townspeople are prejudiced against him on 
 account of his being a socialist. But that never 
 has made any difference with Lord Fermor, ma'am, 
 and I must say, when Lady Susan Battle wanted 
 Lord Castlemaine to discharge me because of 
 my husband's club, his lordship refused to do 
 it." 
 
 Theodora found that this usually reticent, elderly 
 woman could talk freely enough about the two sub-
 
 KING'S LYNDON TELLS ITS STORY 115 
 
 jects nearest her heart her husband and Lord 
 Fermor, who had been her nursling. 
 
 It was plain that Reyburn had a complete list in 
 her mind of all Lord Castlemaine's misdoings, re- 
 garding his son and heir, and everything else, and 
 revealed as much as she could within her limits. At 
 every spot from which a piece of furniture, a pic- 
 ture, an ornament had been ravaged, she would 
 mention : 
 
 "Lord Castlemaine sold this on such a date," or 
 " His lordship removed this to Castlemaine House 
 at such a time." 
 
 The inspection of the house took up the entire 
 morning. When luncheon was over, Theodora 
 walked up and down with her father on the long 
 sunny terrace. Seymour liked his cigar in the open 
 air, and it was Theodora's custom to walk with him 
 while he smoked. 
 
 " It is a very knotty problem," he said, " what a 
 man may do with certain household effects, with and 
 without the consent of his heir, but I should judge 
 that our friend, Lord Castlemaine, has pretty well 
 looted his place, with or without the consent of Lord 
 Fermor, and I should say that it was an infernal 
 outrage." 
 
 " Imagine you looting a place in which I might 
 be supposed to have some rights," said Theodora, 
 slipping her arm through her father's and laying 
 her cheek against his shoulder. " You would be 
 much more likely to loot somebody's else place, and
 
 116 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 supply me with what you thought I fancied. Thank 
 Heaven, I have you, and not Lord Castlemaine, for 
 my father." 
 
 " One thing is certain," continued Seymour, " this 
 place can't be restored in a month or perhaps six 
 months. There are a good many things on which 
 I should like very much to have Lord Fermor's opin- 
 ion. He probably knows how it was originally, but 
 I hardly like to ask him, under the circumstances, to 
 give me his assistance. It must be pretty hard lines 
 for him to come here at all, and to see how he has 
 been robbed of his patrimony." 
 
 " Yes," replied Theodora, " it must be hard." 
 
 She felt an inward conviction that Fermor had 
 given up many things, not from weakness, for there 
 was no indication of weakness about him, but in 
 the beginning from inexperience, and in the end 
 from the disinclination of a proud man to engage 
 in a sordid controversy. She herself had given up 
 much in trying to avoid sorded controversies with 
 Pietro Fontarini. 
 
 When Seymour finished his cigar, he and Theo- 
 dora made the complete tour of the park. Every- 
 thing told the same story of neglect and wreckage. 
 The park was completely forsaken, but luckily the 
 price of timber being low, little of it had been felled, 
 and it required more clearing up than planting. At 
 every step the necessity for a reconstruction of the 
 estate, as it were, became more obvious. The gen- 
 eral aspect of things presented an appearance not
 
 KING'S LYNDON TELLS ITS STORY 117 
 
 unlike that of Lord Castlemaine himself. They 
 retained all the evidences of original beauty, but 
 so battered and abused that it was plain they had 
 been at war with circumstance. 
 
 It was quite tea time before Theodora and her 
 father returned to the house. The question of a 
 housekeeper was uppermost in Theodora's mind. 
 The London housekeeper had been left behind to take 
 care of the town house. Theodora and her father 
 discussed the subject during their walk, and Theo- 
 dora suggested that Reyburn be offered the post. 
 It was evident that she was honest and intelligent 
 and what little had been done to keep things to- 
 gether in the mansion was due to her efforts. 
 
 After tea, therefore, when Theodora went into 
 the little morning room, which had been Lady Cas- 
 tlemaine's, she sent for Reyburn and offered her the 
 place at good wages. Reyburn accepted with sub- 
 dued eagerness. It was a personal triumph for her 
 and a victory over Lady Susan Battle. 
 
 Next morning Theodora began in earnest to have 
 her own and her father's rooms arranged before be- 
 ginning the great work of rejuvenation, which would 
 be put in the hands of capable men from London. 
 The little morning room was shabby, but Theodora 
 wisely determined to consider well before she made 
 any changes. Her own pictures, ornaments and 
 books she placed skilfully. There were a few pic- 
 tures hanging on the walls, chiefly stained old en- 
 gravings, and a sketch in water colour of a boy still
 
 118 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 in dresses, holding a bird in a cage. It was stiff, 
 affected, and amateurish in style, but there was 
 something about it that indicated it to be a genuine 
 likeness. 
 
 "Do you know who this is?" asked Theodora 
 of Reyburn. 
 
 " That is Lord Fermor, Madam," replied Rey- 
 burn. " It was done by Lady Castlemaine herself. 
 I think there is some writing on the back." 
 
 Theodora took the picture out of the frame and 
 found written on the back: 
 
 " Reginald George John Lyndon, Lord Fermor, 
 aged five and a half years. Painted by his devoted 
 mother, B. Castlemaine." 
 
 Theodora put the picture back gently into the 
 frame and placed it in the drawer of her desk, say- 
 ing: 
 
 " I shall send this to Lord Fermor." 
 
 Reyburn's eyes, which were somewhat hard and 
 set in expression, filled with tears. This silent, nar- 
 row and intense woman had a passionate affection 
 for her nursling, and could not conceal it.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE OLD, OLD ENGLAND 
 
 THERE are few things more interesting than the 
 rehabilitation of a house and grounds, and when 
 one's taste is good and money is plentiful, the dif- 
 ficulties and perplexities in the way only add to the 
 pleasure. Seymour was delighted at the interest 
 that Theodora showed in the work, and congratu- 
 lated himself upon his purchase of King's Lyndon. 
 
 Everything was to be restored, even the great 
 bare ballroom, with its rusty lustres, and moth-eaten 
 curtains. The experts from London could show 
 how everything should be done, but Theodora re- 
 fused to give them a free hand, and saved the 
 fine old house from becoming a mere museum. In 
 vain were the names invoked of countesses and even 
 duchesses who had allowed the decorators and re- 
 storers to work their will unchecked. Theodora 
 calmly declared, with the characteristic American 
 courage, that the house was designed to be lived in, 
 and she wished to impress her own individuality 
 upon it. The work, however, was speedily put in 
 hand and progressed rapidly. Nevertheless, it would 
 require at least six months before the restoration 
 could be completed. 
 
 The neighbourhood was one of those common 
 enough in the England of to-day, with splendid es- 
 
 119
 
 120 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 tates, of which only half the houses were open. The 
 cost of maintenance, the passion for travel on the 
 part of their owners, kept them closed for all ex- 
 cept a few months in the year. The people who were 
 in the neighborhood all called upon Seymour and 
 Theodora, and they were invited to the usual round 
 of garden parties. Theodora's grace and affabil- 
 ity were much admired by the men, but as the case is 
 to-day in England, the women felt a secret and per- 
 fectly natural hostility to the American woman. 
 
 When they wished to compliment her, they told 
 her they would never have taken her for an Amer- 
 ican. 
 
 This was quietly resented by Theodora, and made 
 her adopt a gentle aloofness of manner which was 
 not conducive to intimacy. But Theodora had learned 
 to live much within herself and, besides, there were 
 now many claims upon her time in her new surround- 
 ings, as Seymour habitually referred everything to 
 her. Barotti came down twice every week to give 
 her a violin lesson, and the present resources of the 
 establishment enabled her to have Ashburton, Wynd- 
 ham and the tall and lovely Dot and the Marsacs 
 down for occasional week-ends. Every day seemed 
 to bring Theodora nearer to peace and resignation. 
 
 The death of her child was still a poignant mem- 
 ory. In imagination she could see him at her side 
 as she walked through the Italian gardens and the 
 glades of the park, and she could almost feel his 
 warm little hand in hers. But the sharp reflection
 
 THE OLD, OLD ENGLAND 
 
 which had pierced her heart like a knife that this 
 child had in him the blood of Petro Fontarini, with 
 all its terrible chances, often recurred to her. If 
 she could have felt the inward conviction of faith 
 that her child was now in the happy fields of Para- 
 dise, and that she should see him again, she thought 
 she could be reconciled to the separation, but Theo- 
 dora's mind was of the sort which puts questions 
 and demands answers. In her life she had suffered 
 so much that she had but little time to think. Now, 
 however, her brain, naturally active, was beginning 
 to work. She asked herself if all that she had un- 
 dergone were really an economic waste; if it were 
 of design or whether it were the work of a vast, ir- 
 responsible, blundering, bungling Power, which took 
 no thought of waste of energy, and which created 
 passionate affections only to be frustrated; which 
 implanted the splendid hope of immortality only 
 to befool the helpless creatures of His making ; which 
 gave consciousness only to withdraw it, and made 
 man merely to destroy him. Her own intelligence 
 strongly denied this, and she longed to believe in 
 design and ordered liberty. She began to cast about 
 for a practical system of philosophy by which to 
 live, and turned naturally to religion. The Church 
 of England impressed her like a great building, 
 half a cathedral and half a parliament house. The 
 unquestioned supremacy of the State over the 
 Church alarmed her, and the ruthlessness with which 
 it was exercised shocked her. There was no Catho-
 
 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 lie church nearer than Hillborough eight miles 
 away. 
 
 In all her miserable years in Italy, the only real 
 impress the Catholic religion had made upon her 
 was the presence of the Sacrament upon the altar. 
 She had never entered the great basilicas or the 
 humblest chapel without feeling herself in the actual 
 Presence of the Lord; but with it came bitterness of 
 soul because Christ, being there and seeing her, took 
 no thought of her, either to teach her or comfort 
 her. 
 
 Once, Ashburton, being at King's Lyndon, on 
 Sunday morning did not appear until ten o'clock. 
 He explained that he had risen early and taken the 
 train to Hillborough in order that he might be present 
 at the early mass, and had missed his train on re- 
 turning. This was the first intimation Theodora 
 had that Ashburton had become a Roman Catholic. 
 It had a good effect upon her. Had Ashburton 
 been a mystic, a dreamer, she would not have been 
 half so much impressed. But he was the perfect 
 type of a modern Englishman, hard-headed and 
 practical, with a very real knowledge of the dis- 
 advantages of going counter to the religion of the 
 state. 
 
 Ashburton was again at King's Lyndon for the 
 week-end, as were also the Marsacs. Early, on the 
 Sunday morning, a beautiful August sunrise, when 
 the motor came to the door to take Marsac and 
 Madame Marsac and Ashburton to Hillborough to 
 mass, Theodora appeared, dressed to go with them.
 
 THE OLD, OLD ENGLAND 123 
 
 " I think I should like to go," she said simply. 
 
 When they reached the little old town, all green 
 and grey, and ivy-grown, they found the little 
 church, also, green and grey and ivy-grown. Ash- 
 burton and the Marsacs went within, but Theodora 
 remained in the churchyard instead. It was just 
 eight o'clock, and the dewy freshness of the morn- 
 ing was upon the soft earth and the sombre yew 
 trees of the churchyard. 
 
 Theodora remained walking about, and looking 
 at the graves of the little children. She yearned to 
 go within the church to see the Sanctuary lamp with 
 its undying light before the door of the tabernacle. 
 Still she shrank from it with an instinctive fear that 
 she might be entering a path of difficulty and con- 
 flict. Too lately had she known anything like re- 
 pose to wish to jeopardise it by any great and im- 
 mediate change. As she stood hesitating, the rich 
 light of the morning falling upon her slender black 
 figure, the faint echo of the bell that announced the 
 elevation of the Host, floated out in a wave of deli- 
 cate music. It seemed to Theodora like some great 
 cathedral bell thundering out in music its majes- 
 tic call to prayer. Theodora's feet turned toward 
 the door, and before she knew it she was on her 
 knees in the dim little church. She made no prayer, 
 but in her heart was a great reproach. 
 
 " Lord, Thou knowest I wish to believe, but Thou 
 hast not given me belief. Thou gavest me my child 
 only to take it away. Thou hast helped others ; me, 
 Thou hast not helped."
 
 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 When all was over, and the congregation came 
 out, Ashburton and Marsac and his wife were smil- 
 ing and in good spirits. They seemed to have had 
 increase of peace and happiness from their devo- 
 tion. Only Theodora remained sad and abstracted. 
 
 Theodora sent to Fermor, with a graceful note, the 
 little water colour of himself, made by his mother. 
 In reply, she had a few lines full of gratitude, and 
 a promise to call as soon as he returned to Long- 
 staffe from London. 
 
 The death of the sitting member for the division 
 of the county occurred during this month, and it 
 was published in the London newspapers that Lord 
 Fermor would stand for the seat. Seymour men- 
 tioned to Theodora that he understood the sale of 
 King's Lyndon had very much lessened Fermor's 
 interest with the landed people, but that in small 
 places and especially in a large manufacturing town 
 in the division, the labouring and working people 
 were well inclined toward him, partly through the 
 influence of Reyburn and his socialistic club. 
 
 "I hope Lord Fermor will succeed," said Sey- 
 mour. " He represents a condition one sees all over 
 Europe, of a man chained down by traditions and 
 customs, from following his natural bent. He is 
 getting his own way now when he is thirty-six years 
 old. I should say that so far his life had been hard 
 and disappointing." 
 
 Reyburn's passionate attachment to Fermor kept 
 him continually before Theodora's mind. Reyburn
 
 THE OLD, OLD ENGLAND 125 
 
 had a strange power of conveying much in a few 
 words, and Theodora was readily able to gather 
 from Reyburn's words a picture of the lonely and 
 sensitive boy and his neglected mother living mea- 
 grely in the great house while Lord Castlemaine 
 maintained state in London. Fermor had interested 
 Theodora from the beginning, far more than she 
 had ever supposed any man could, and she found 
 herself listening to Reyburn with attention when 
 Fermor's name came up in the matter of rehabilitat- 
 ing King's Lyndon. 
 
 Fermor was dividing his time between London 
 and Longstaffe, ten miles away from King's Lyndon, 
 and was as hard worked as a man could be, making 
 his first contest for a parliamentary seat. Lord 
 Castlemaine did not let him forget that Madame 
 Fontarini would be, by long odds, the most advan- 
 tageous person for him to marry, thus flatly going 
 against the advice he had previously given Fer- 
 mor. King's Lyndon, moreover, was a valuable fac- 
 tor in the district, and Theodora herself was charm- 
 ing. Fermor felt himself not unwilling for the mar- 
 riage. He had the outlook of an Englishman of 
 his class, but he realised that Madame Fontarini 
 would require more courtship than the heir to an 
 earldom is usually required to make. He felt a 
 strong desire to see Theodora, and one afternoon 
 in July drove over to King's Lyndon. No one was 
 at home, but Reyburn, delighted to see him, in- 
 sisted upon giving him tea before he returned. A
 
 126 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 slight rain gave her an excuse to serve the tea in 
 the little yellow morning room which had been Lady 
 Castlemaine's. It still retained not only many mem- 
 ories for Fermor, but many objects which he recog- 
 nised. Reyburn, who, like all women from the 
 scullion to the princess, was a promoter of mar- 
 riages, had heard it hinted that a marriage might 
 be arranged between Fermor and Madame F,on- 
 tarni, and she proceeded to give the plan some ef- 
 ficient help. 
 
 She was full of praise of Theodora and her 
 father, and the sly suggestiveness of her talk made 
 Fermor smile. 
 
 After half an hour, he took the road again, his 
 mind somewhat occupied with Theodora. She was 
 certainly the antipodes of Flora Bellenden, and that 
 was in itself a powerful recommendation. Thank 
 God, he was delivered from the body of that death, 
 and like all men in the same circumstances, wondered 
 how he had endured it so long, and was amazed at 
 his own fault and folly. Mrs. Bellenden had at 
 least realised that Fermor would hold no further 
 communication with her, as he steadily declined to 
 answer her letter, and she no longer molested him. 
 He would tell any woman he might marry, about 
 Mrs. Bellenden, but it was an ugly story to put in 
 words, and, Fermor surmised, would be uglier to an 
 American than an Englishwoman. 
 
 Seymour went up to London once during the 
 month and saw Lord Castlemaine, who skilfully sug-
 
 THE OLD, OLD ENGLAND 127 
 
 gested a marriage between Fermor and Theodora. 
 Seymour was somewhat startled, but he told Lord 
 Castlemaine it was his wish to see Theodora 
 " happily married," as he put it, considering that 
 in the event of his death she would be utterly alone 
 in the world. 
 
 On his return from London, Seymour made some 
 guarded allusion to what Lord Castlemaine had 
 said, adding apologetically: 
 
 " You know, my dear child, things are differently 
 arranged over here, from what they are in America, 
 and when money and rank are considered, they are 
 frankly estimated." 
 
 Theodora laughed a little and made some daugh- 
 ter's joke with her father upon his anxiety to be rid 
 of her, but Seymour felt amazed by the fact that 
 she was not offended at the suggestion. 
 
 Theodora studied the subject from that point 
 of ingenious self-deception which every woman can 
 command. She succeeded in persuading herself that 
 if Lord Fermor should propose, it would be a judi- 
 cious marriage for both of them. They were no 
 longer boy and girl ; they could understand the mar- 
 riage of sympathy, friendship, respect ; there was no 
 occasion for either pretending to be in love with the 
 other. The one fact which she steadily ignored 
 was that, from the first meeting with Fermor, she 
 had found herself thinking of him with an astonish- 
 ing frequency.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 WHAT DKEAMS WILL COME 
 
 THESE things were passing through Theodora's 
 mind, when one morning in August, to escape the 
 army of workmen that swarmed over the house and 
 gardens, she walked to the farthest end of the park. 
 
 The morning was shadowed, rather than over- 
 cast, by a silvery mist, which hid the groups of 
 gnarled oak and beech trees like a muslin veil, and 
 lent a soft coolness to the air as it touched Theo- 
 dora's delicate cheeks, to which a girlish bloom was 
 returning. She had walked almost to the edge of 
 the park near the highroad when the mist sud- 
 denly turned to a hard shower. Theodora, taking 
 up her skirts, ran toward a niche with a stone bench 
 in the solid wall of cedars which marked the boun- 
 daries of the park. Over this niche a great Nor- 
 wegian fir extended its arms like a canopy. 
 
 Just as Theodora gained the refuge, she heard 
 the galloping of a horse's hoofs. The next moment 
 a horseman trotted under the fir tree, and Fermor 
 dismounted and threw the reins over a branch. 
 Then, turning toward the stone bench, which was 
 barely large enough for two, he saw Theodora 
 sitting in one corner of it, smiling and secure from 
 the rain. 
 
 128
 
 WHAT DREAMS WILL COME 129 
 
 Fermor came and sat down in the vacant place. 
 They were so close together that they could study 
 each other as never before. It was the first time 
 Theodora had seen Fermor in riding-dress, and he 
 looked well in it, and younger and fresher, more 
 boylike, than she had supposed possible. Fermor 
 noticed the same rejuvenation in Theodora. Her 
 month in the country had given her a new freshness. 
 The dampness had somewhat dishevelled her hair, 
 but its graceful disorder added to the youthfulness 
 of her appearance. 
 
 " I was on my way to see you and Mr. Seymour," 
 said Fermor, " when the shower caught me. I re- 
 membered this refuge, and have sat here many hun- 
 dreds of times in the days when I was a little boy." 
 
 " It must be very hard," said Theodora, " to see 
 strangers, even though they are friends, in one's 
 old home. I have felt that very much since we have 
 been at King's Lyndon." 
 
 " It isn't half so hard as to see the place going 
 to rack and ruin," replied Fermor cheerfully. " Be- 
 sides, we English are now being infected with some 
 of your American ideas. We are beginning to live 
 in the present. I have been so much taken up with 
 political concerns for the last few weeks that I have 
 not been able to give much thought to other af- 
 fairs." 
 
 " What are your prospects ? " asked Theodora, 
 smiling. 
 
 " Ask the committee," replied Fermor, laughing.
 
 130 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 "I am under instructions to promise everything to 
 everybody and to take the most optimistic view of 
 my own prospects. I have, however, a valuable and 
 unexpected helper in Ashburton. He is very strong 
 with the socialistic element, and I hope through him 
 they may be brought to tolerate me." 
 
 " You have a very earnest supporter in Reyburn," 
 said Theodora. " I am keeping her on as house- 
 keeper, and I have discovered that there is but one 
 correct way to do anything, and that is as Lady 
 Castlemaine did it, and as you have approved from 
 the time you were ten years old." 
 
 " It is a great thing to have even one human being 
 devoted to one. Reyburn, I reckon to be my best 
 and earliest friend among women. I am glad to 
 hear 'you like her. She is a faithful creature. Do 
 you like the place as well as you expected?" 
 
 " Quite as much," answered Theodora. " Some- 
 times I have the feeling that the people who once 
 lived here are the real people, and we are but the 
 shadows, the unrealities, but that, I suppose, is the 
 feeling that comes to everyone who lives in a place 
 like King's Lyndon." 
 
 They continued talking for a few minutes, when 
 Fermor inadvertently spoke of Rome. He cursed 
 himself for his want of tact when he saw the change 
 which came over Theodora's face. But she sur- 
 prised him and herself by saying: 
 
 " I try to think of Rome as seldom as I can. 
 Perhaps you have heard something of the terrible
 
 WHAT DREAMS WILL COME 131 
 
 sorrows I experienced there ! All the beauty of 
 Italy speaks to me only of sorrow. 
 
 " I often saw you in Rome," said Fermor quietly. 
 
 Theodora turned two startled eyes on him. 
 
 " In the Borghese Gardens ; sometimes the old 
 man, Cardinal Fontarini, was with you. You wore 
 deep mourning and were thin and pale and sad. The 
 change in you is very great. I hope it will be 
 greater as time goes on." 
 
 " I had no hope at all when we came to England," 
 replied Theodora in a low voice, " but since then, 
 time, and the desire to please my father, have given 
 me a little hope. I hope for peace, even if I have 
 no happiness in life. For I assure you," she con- 
 tinued, turning full upon Fermor, " I had no hap- 
 piness in my marriage, for so much as one week, 
 nor, as much as I loved my child, did I have much 
 happiness in him. I could be tortured through him, 
 and I was tortured through him by Pietro Fon- 
 tarini." 
 
 As she spoke her husband's name, the fire of re- 
 sentment burned in her eyes, and echoed in her low 
 voice. She hated the memory of Pietro Fontarini 
 as she had hated and despised the man after know- 
 ing him. This hatred came out in spite of herself, for 
 she recollected at once that she was speaking to a 
 comparative stranger, and stopped suddenly. 
 
 Fermor listened to this with approval. He had 
 no fancy for being any woman's second love, and for 
 feeling that there were secret memories and tender
 
 182 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 recollections In her heart which he of all men should 
 least know, things to be unspoken between them, 
 secrets to be sedulously guarded from him. Then 
 he said to Theodora boldly : 
 
 " Can any normal woman marry a man she does 
 not love? " 
 
 " Yes," answered Theodora with prompt direct- 
 ness. " What can an inexperienced girl of eighteen 
 know of love? Would you call the mere fancy of a 
 sentimental girl for a handsome face, a graceful 
 carriage, by the name of love? It is no more love 
 than the fancy for a picture, or a statue, or any- 
 thing else which a girl may idealise. In my case, 
 it was a man. My father, for some reason which I 
 do not now understand, was eager for the marriage. 
 I had no one to advise me, to hold me back. The 
 Fontarinis, all of them, tried to bring about the 
 marriage. I look back on myself with the deepest 
 pity." 
 
 The white rain was still coming down in sheets, 
 and Theodora's sudden confidences concerning the 
 tragedy of her life, made in a solitude almost as com- 
 plete as if they were alone in a world all their own, 
 touched Fermor deeply. He said a few words full 
 of meaning to her, and she, with ready under- 
 standing, comprehended. A deep blush flooded her 
 face as she listened to him. It was not exactly a 
 lover's pleading. Fermor was too sincere a man 
 to profess more than he felt, and least of all to a 
 woman of great wealth. But it was the offer of fidel-
 
 WHAT DREAMS WILL COME 133 
 
 iky, of honour, of all that had been lacking in Pietro 
 Fontarini. Something was lacking, too, in Fermor's 
 offer the deep affection for which Theodora 
 yearned, and of which she felt herself capable. But 
 something was there which was the last thing on 
 earth to be expected and which was exactly opposed 
 to outward appearances. This was disinterested- 
 ness. True it was, Fermor could not afford to 
 marry without money, but he was as little likely to 
 marry for money as any man living. 
 
 He did not press Theodora for an answer then, 
 asking her only to take it into consideration. This 
 Theodora promised, and would promise no more than 
 that, but deep in her heart was the conviction that 
 here lay her one chance for happiness. 
 
 They had sat nearly a full hour in the little ref- 
 uge before the rain ceased and the sun came out upon 
 a world all green and gold and diamond-studded. 
 
 " It was a fateful rain for me," said Fermor, 
 smiling, as they picked their way across the park to- 
 ward the house, Fermor leading his horse. " I should 
 not have had the courage to speak so soon but for 
 the chance of seeing you so unexpectedly alone, and 
 for what you told me." 
 
 " Remember," said Theodora with soft positiveness, 
 " not a word of this is to be said to anyone, least 
 of all my father. He must hear it from me." 
 
 Fermor was somewhat aghast at this. He had 
 expected to have an interview with Seymour directly 
 after luncheon, but wisely concluded that American
 
 methods were slightly different from English ones, 
 and thought it best to agree to Theodora's scheme. 
 
 Seymour met them on the terrace. 
 
 " I have been anxious about you," he said to 
 Theodora. " I would have sent the carriage for you 
 if I had known where you were, but I thought it 
 likely you had taken refuge in the village." 
 
 "I was quite safe, papa," answered Theodora, 
 smiling. " Lord Fermor and I sat in the little ref- 
 uge in the cedar hedge by the lower lodge, and were 
 perfectly sheltered from the rain." 
 
 Fermor, accustomed to the ways of his own 
 countrywomen, was not a little surprised and even 
 piqued at the calmness with which Theodora took 
 what seemed to him the all-important event in a wo- 
 man's life. This was increased by Theodora's smil- 
 ing self-possession at the luncheon table. It was 
 as if she had put out of her mind completely, if 
 not entirely forgotten, the fact that she had been 
 invited to become one day Countess of Castlemaine. 
 But Fermor's native good sense, and good taste and 
 touch of humour, were all engaged by this novel re- 
 ception of his proposal. He had supposed that when 
 a man made an offer to a woman, it was clearly within 
 his rights to demand an instant reply, and Theodora's 
 cool postponement of a decision seemed to estab- 
 lish the truth of what he had heard that ac- 
 cording to the American plan, a man had no rights 
 that a woman is bound to respect. But the mere 
 fillip to his pride gave an unusual interest to the
 
 WHAT DREAMS WILL COME 135 
 
 situation. He realised that Theodora, if she mar- 
 ried him, would not do so for his title, just as Theo- 
 dora, with her sharp woman's instinct, had perceived 
 that Fermor was not selling himself at a price. 
 
 Anythng more unembarrassed than Theodora was, 
 could not be imagined when her father and Fermor 
 were smoking together on the terrace after lunch- 
 eon. It appealed to Fermor's latent sense of humour, 
 and he was secretly laughing at himself in the novel 
 and totally unexpected position in which he found 
 himself a probationer, as it were, upon Madame 
 Fontarini's pleasure, without even the privilege of 
 speaking to her father on the subject. He had never 
 heard of such an instance before, and the novelty 
 of it added zest to the situation. 
 
 There was always in Theodora something soft 
 and appealing. She did not take men by storm, as 
 the tall black-eyed Wyndham girl did, but in this 
 dove-like Theodora, now appeared that quiet sense 
 of humour, the birthright of every American, and a 
 calmness which made any other method of acting 
 seem ridiculous. 
 
 Fermor was on his mettle and showed the same 
 composure as Theodora did, ignoring any change 
 in their relations. He discussed his election pros- 
 pects with Seymour, and spoke of expecting con- 
 siderable help from Ashburton, who was strong 
 with the various socialist clubs which flourished in 
 all of the big market towns of the district. His 
 predecessor had been elected by a decreased majority
 
 136 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 due to these radical votes, which slightly but steadily 
 increased, and had been abused by both of the great 
 parties. This radical vote, which was made up 
 chiefly of the workers in shops, and the class of 
 poorly paid, but skilled mechanics, would listen to 
 Ashburton, who took much interest in the political 
 status of the working classes. 
 
 " My adversary," continued Fermor, smiling, 
 " has one great advantage over me, a charming 
 wife and two pretty daughters who will work and 
 speak for him." 
 
 " That is one thing I do not like in your British 
 elections," said Seymour, " the sight of women on 
 the platform. I should very much dislike to see my 
 daughter in such a position." 
 
 " As I understand," remarked Theodora, " that 
 the most sensible English women in electioneering, 
 content themselves with dressing well, and looking 
 charming, and praising their husbands or fathers 
 or brothers for whom they are appearing, I should 
 not think intelligent voters would be much im- 
 pressed by that sort of thing." 
 
 Every word Theodora uttered showed to Fer- 
 mor's observing mind that her ideas and ideals were 
 totally different from those of an Englishwoman, 
 and these ideas and ideals had for him the charm of 
 the unknown. 
 
 When he rose to go the only allusion he made to 
 the marked event of their meeting in the park, was 
 to say on shaking hands with Theodora:
 
 WHAT DREAMS WILL COME 137 
 
 " I shall be in this neighbourhood two weeks from 
 to-day, and perhaps you will allow me the privi- 
 lege of calling again? " 
 
 " Certainly," answered Theodora, and Seymour 
 with ready hospitality added: 
 
 " Come and dine with us, we shall like to know 
 how things are going in the division." 
 
 Fermor thanked him, without accepting or de- 
 clining the invitation, which he thought might be 
 most acceptable or exactly the contrary, according 
 to the answer he got from Theodora. 
 
 Seymour went with him down the stone steps of 
 the terrace into the courtyard beyond, where Fer- 
 mor's horse had been brought. As the two men 
 left the terrace, Theodora went upstairs with. her 
 quick, silent step to a great window in her bedroom 
 from which she could see anyone going down the 
 avenue of horse chestnuts to the highroad. 
 
 Fermor started out at a sharp canter, riding well, 
 and looking as a true horseman should, as if the 
 man and horse were one. In a few minutes he dis- 
 appeared under the shade of the trees, but there 
 was a point where the avenue ceased and the park 
 opened into a wide champaign. Theodora stood at 
 the window until she saw the distant figure of the 
 horseman come out upon this plateau. The after- 
 noon was radiant, and Fermor's figure w,as sil- 
 houetted against the green fields and unclouded blue 
 of the sky. His horse was walking slowly along, 
 the reins upon his neck. This was at a point where
 
 138 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 a fine view of the stately house and spacious gardens 
 could be had, and visitors were usually halted there 
 to get this splendid vista. 
 
 " If he is thinking of me," said Theodora to her- 
 self, with the ingenuity of a woman's mind, " he will 
 ride on without looking at the place, but if he is 
 thinking of once more being master of King's Lyn- 
 don, he will stop his horse and look back at the 
 house." 
 
 But Fermor did not stop and look back; he trot- 
 ted off rapidly out of sight. 
 
 Theodora, still standing at the window, sighed, 
 but did not smile at herself. The sigh was for her 
 lost girlhood, for the true dream of love, which she 
 had never known. She was a woman of thirty, and 
 had passed through the stress and storm. The ro- 
 mantic instincts of a girl still haunted her imagi- 
 nation, but she could not speak of them. She could 
 not tell Fermor what a girl, smiling and blushing, 
 would tell her lover. The proposed marriage was 
 all a cool, sensible arrangement that is, on Fer- 
 mor's part, and it must appear so on hers. Deep 
 in her heart, though, was a secret fancy for Fer- 
 mor. Like all women, she expected to live her own 
 love story. She admired Fermor and recognised his 
 vigour of mind and character, and relished the idea 
 of depending upon it. Her father was the most un- 
 sophisticated of men ; she often wondered how a man 
 with so little knowledge of the world could have 
 made and even kept a fortune. He had often said to 
 her:
 
 WHAT DREAMS WILL COME 139 
 
 " I made my money by a lucky hit, and I keep 
 it by not trying to be a financier, but a conserva- 
 tive investor." 
 
 Seymour was full of praises of Fermor at tea 
 time. Theodora listened silently. 
 
 After tea, in the cool, bright summer afternoon, 
 they went to walk. Theodora led her father to the 
 little refuge under the Norwegian fir tree. When 
 they were together in that green solitude, she put 
 her hand in his and told him what Fermor had said 
 to her. 
 
 " Papa," she said, fixing her dark and serious 
 eyes upon him, " here is the strange, the comforting, 
 thing; Lord Fermor would not be marrying me for 
 money or rather, for money alone. I can't tell 
 you how I know this. Of course he needs money, but 
 he would not sell himself. You may call this vanity, 
 but it is not, it is the truth." 
 
 Seymour caught his daughter to his heart. 
 
 " I believe it," he said. " How could any man 
 keep from loving you? I believe even that scoun- 
 drel, Pietro Fontarini, was in love with you after his 
 scoundrelly fashion, but this man ! My dear- 
 est, it is the best thing that could happen. Ash- 
 burton thinks highly of him, and Ashburton's word 
 about a man may be taken." 
 
 " Are you anxious to be rid of me, papa ? " asked 
 Theodora. It is the question which a fond daughter 
 asks of an adoring father. 
 
 " Yes," answered Seymour, with a strange solem- 
 nity. " I am anxious to see you with a man's
 
 140 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 strong arm between you and the world, anxious to 
 feel that if I were not with you, there would be 
 another and a better man " 
 
 Theodora put her hand over her father's lips. 
 
 " Hush ! " she cried. " Neither you nor anyone 
 else shall ever say such a thing as that. You are the 
 best man that ever lived. If Lord Fermor is only 
 half as good but no, he can't be. I must make up 
 my mind, if I marry him, to find him not so kind, 
 not so self-sacrificing as you, nor can he ever come 
 between us, or ever make it so that I can't come to 
 you if you need me." 
 
 All at once in this first moment that the thought 
 of a separation came to Theodora, the recollection 
 of her father's unceasing devotion, watchfulness, 
 and passionate affection overwhelmed her. The 
 large bright tears rolled down her cheeks as she 
 said brokenly: 
 
 " When I think of what you have been to me from 
 the time I can first remember until this moment, it 
 seems as if no daughter ever had such a father." 
 
 Seymour kissed her silently, the passion of father- 
 hood speaking in his face as the devotion of filial 
 love shone in Theodora's eyes. Father and daugh- 
 ter walked back through the purple twilight, Sey- 
 mour's arm within Theodora's. They always fell 
 into those attitudes in which Theodora seemed pro- 
 tecting the gentle old man.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 VISITORS AT KING'S LYNDON 
 
 ON the following Saturday, Ashburton, with 
 Wyndham and his sister, came to King's Lyndon 
 for the week-end. 
 
 Fermor's visit was mentioned, and Ashburton, in 
 spite of Seymour's reticence concerning the object 
 of it, surmised its meaning. The proposed mar- 
 riage was hinted in many quarters despite Lady 
 Susan Battle's fierce pronunciamento that no per- 
 son connected with the Castlemaine family would 
 condescend to an American alliance. Ashburton 
 was full of Fermor's election prospects, which he 
 hoped would result in benefit to the labouring classes, 
 of whom the late incumbent had been peculiarly for- 
 getful. It seemed to Ashburton as if Fermor's re- 
 habilitation would be complete if he was married to 
 a sweet and intelligent woman, and engaged in a 
 useful public life. 
 
 On the Sunday morning, Ashburton went to the 
 little church at Hillborough by train, and returned. 
 Theodora made no offer to go with him and he 
 thought she had probably acted on a mere impulse 
 in going on the previous Sunday. 
 
 In the afternoon Jack Thornycroft, who dogged 
 the footsteps of Dot Wyndham, appeared for tea 
 
 141
 
 142 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 with a plausible story of being on a visit to a great 
 aunt in the neighbourhood. He made every effort to 
 beguile Dot into a walk in the park alone with him, 
 but that young person, with cool disregard of the 
 sentimental advances of the eldest son of a baronet, 
 insisted in attaching both him and herself to the 
 whole party at King's Lyndon for a stroll after tea. 
 In going through the village they passed Reyburn's 
 cottage. In the garden Reyburn sat in his wheeled 
 chair under a great oak tree with his congregation 
 of socialists surrounding him, while he expounded 
 his notions of government. He spoke with great 
 civility to Seymour and Ashburton, and answered 
 politely Theodora's inquiries about his health. 
 
 " I should like very much," said Seymour to Rey- 
 burn, "to hear what you have to say on govern- 
 ment and religion. Would you let me have a place 
 on this bench? " 
 
 " A young workingman rose at once and offered 
 Seymour his place. Then, Theodora said smiling: 
 
 " Perhaps you would let us all stay too." 
 
 With much politeness, the whole party was accom- 
 modated with seats. Of the newcomers Theo- 
 dora was perhaps the one most distrusted by the 
 assemblage of thirty or forty clerks and shopkeep- 
 ers and mechanics gathered under the great, spread- 
 ing oak tree. They were accustomed to seeing the 
 wives and daughters of the aristocracy coming 
 among them and beguiling them, so Reyburn taught, 
 of their votes. They had no idea of Seymour's po-
 
 VISITORS AT KING'S LYNDON 143 
 
 litical affiliations, and being, as they supposed, 
 fabulously rich, they regarded him as a concealed 
 enemy. Wyndham and his sister, they observed with 
 keen curiosity, as Americans, and possibly in sym- 
 pathy with them. 
 
 Reyburn then continued his address. It was upon 
 the old, old subject of the rights of man, and was 
 a free adaptation of what he had read of Camille 
 Des Moulins and Danton. He had no understanding 
 of Jefferson and Franklin. Paine's " Age of Rea- 
 son " appeared to Reyburn to be a new dispensa- 
 tion. Nevertheless, his thinking and reading were 
 enough for him to present his case effectively. 
 
 When Reyburn had spoken for twenty mniutes, 
 Ashburton asked the privilege of making a short 
 reply. This Reyburn courteously agreed to and Ash- 
 burton was listened to with respectful attention. He 
 pointed out the dangers of dealing radically with 
 old-established things, overlaid by the traditions of 
 a thousand years, declaring himself a radical in 
 mind, but a conservative in action. What Ashbur- 
 ton said was full of pith and the sublime common 
 sense which distinguished him, but there was in it 
 nothing to captivate the imaginations of men who 
 had been pondering upon the great words of liberty, 
 enlightenment, republicanism. 
 
 Wyndham, his black eyes flashing, followed both 
 the discourses attentively. When Ashburton con- 
 cluded and sat down, Reyburn, looking toward 
 Wyndham, said:
 
 144 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 "Perhaps the gentleman from America will say 
 something to us?" 
 
 " With the greatest pleasure," replied Wynd- 
 ham, rising. " Do you want me to tell you the 
 truth or a pack of agreeable and diversified lies ? " 
 
 " The truth, if you please," said Reyburn 
 gravely. 
 
 " Very well then," continued Wyndham. " I have 
 sat here as an American listening to what has been 
 said. There was an American writer who said of 
 the English people sixty years ago that they were 
 still playing with toys with which we have finished. 
 It is as true to-day as it was then. You don't need 
 to get rid of property or to distribute it, or to 
 abolish your army and navy, or anything of the 
 sort. All you have to do is to abolish titles and he- 
 reditary honours and privileges. Rank is a very real 
 thing, even although it does not carry with it a seat 
 in the House of Lords. It means caste, which is a 
 fixed quantity, and very different from class, which 
 is a movable quantity. It is just the difference 
 between a fortress and a camp. Caste is a fortress 
 and class is a camp. Monarchy, you know, is a 
 primitive institution, and when you reach the point 
 when you have a constitutional monarchy and put 
 your king under bonds to behave himself, you ad- 
 mit the fact that you could do without him perfectly 
 well. There is no more real basis for a man's in- 
 heriting political power than ecclesiastical power. 
 To be consistent, the son of the Archbishop of Can-
 
 VISITORS AT KING'S LYNDON 145 
 
 terbury ought to be Archbishop of Canterbury as 
 soon as his father dies, and the daughters of Field 
 Marshal Lord Roberts, who are to inherit his title, 
 ought also to be field marshal. Monarchy, seen from 
 the republican point of view, is a grotesque ob- 
 ject. You had for sixty- two years an illustrious 
 lady as queen, who, in her own person, redeemed 
 the whole thing from ridicule. Now, the question in 
 every country in Europe is, * How long will mon- 
 archy of any sort last, no matter how sugar-coated 
 it is?' 
 
 " In England it will last a good while yet ; first, 
 because you have a government exactly suited to 
 3 r our needs, and which is very well administered; 
 secondly, because the rights of life and property are 
 very well protected here; and thirdly, because you 
 don't know what liberty is." 
 
 At that a rustle went round among the assem- 
 blage and a young clerk with a thoughtful face, 
 rose and said: 
 
 "Wherever the British flag floated, every man 
 was free long before Abraham Lincoln freed the 
 slaves in America." 
 
 " True, my friend," answered Wyndham. " One 
 doesn't obtain liberty at a bound, nor is it attained 
 without the shedding of oceans of blood. Don't 
 forget that. But I tell you, liberty is cheap at any 
 price. I know that many defects still exist in the 
 operation of our system in America. Our develop- 
 ment has been so much more rapid than the world
 
 146 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 has ever seen before, that great forces have come 
 into being faster than means of controlling them 
 have been created. But the means of controlling 
 everything lies in the hands of the people, and 
 affairs can be remedied just as fast and just in the 
 way the people choose. Here in England you have 
 a way of saying that you are more democratic than 
 we are in America. Now, in China, the law is more 
 rigidly administered than in England. The closer 
 the people are packed in a country, the more they 
 are forced to respect each other's rights. In China, 
 when a bank fails, all the officers of it are imme- 
 diately executed. There has not been a bank fail- 
 ure in China for six hundred years. The margin 
 upon which soul and body can be kept together in 
 China is so narrow, that the failure of a bank means 
 death to thousands of people. In England, if a 
 bank fails, it means a terrible catastrophe, want and 
 penury to thousands. If a bank fails in America, 
 it means that a lot of people who did nothing be- 
 fore, have to go to work, that's all. The conse- 
 quence is, that money is not the sacred thing in 
 America that it is in England, and in England it 
 is not the matter of life and death that it is in 
 China. 
 
 " As for what my friend Ashburton tells you about 
 being slow in repairing this old machine of yours, 
 don't believe a word of it. Major Ashburton is a 
 first-class fellow, and except that he doesn't under- 
 stand American jokes, I have no fault to find with
 
 VISITORS AT KING'S LYNDON 
 
 him, but there is no way of repairing an old worn- 
 out machine like monarchy. As Tom Macaulay 
 said : * There is no way of preparing people for 
 freedom.' Some very level-headed English public 
 men now talk about abolishing the House of Lords. 
 Now, when you have abolished the House of Lords, 
 you have got to abolish the State Church, and 
 the King God bless him! Nice man, King Ed- 
 ward is. He would make a fine President. I was 
 presented to him last week. He has a fine eye, and 
 is the son of his mother. Magnificent old lady, 
 Queen Victoria was. Greatest woman of the age. 
 I backed out of the King's presence with the highest 
 respect for him as a gentleman, and wondered how 
 he could go through the thing without grinning, but 
 he looked as sober as a judge. The old monarchical 
 machine will go on for a while yet. Some day it will 
 fall with a crash, just like a lot of other monarchies 
 in Europe. 
 
 " Meanwhile don't claim any liberty in England as 
 long as you require the housemaid to state her re- 
 ligion before you engage her, and allow a gentle- 
 man to legislate for you, because he had an ances- 
 tress who had not a rag of character, and became 
 the mistress of a king. Be satisfied with what you 
 have, good government, religious toleration and 
 heavy taxes. When you acquire the germ of liberty, 
 you will be astonished at the vast number of things 
 you will have to get rid of in this pleasant old 
 England."
 
 148 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 There was a silence as Wyndham sat down, and 
 Ashburton stroked his moustache in meditative tri- 
 umph. Reyburn politely thanked Wyndham for his 
 remarks and the party from King's Lyndon moved 
 on. 
 
 " You haven't done me any harm in the eyes of 
 my friends," said Ashburton, smiling. " When you 
 told them they did not know what liberty was, you 
 wounded their self-love, and that was enough." 
 
 " So I thought at the time," replied Wyndham, 
 laughing, " but when I speak as an American jour- 
 nalist I am the apostle of abstract truth. Abstract 
 truth is highly rarefied, you know, and the human 
 subject does not thrive on it can't stand much of 
 it, in fact. All truth has to be modified to make it 
 bearable; but by degrees people climb up from the 
 swamps and marshes of monarchy to the heights 
 of republicanism where the air is relatively pure." 
 
 Then Ashburton began speaking of Fermor's 
 candidacy, saying Fermor was likely to be useful 
 in Parliament. 
 
 " There is an instance," said Wyndham, " of a 
 man being held in bondage by his caste. That 
 man, you say, has a great aptitude and natural 
 fitness for political life, yet he passed fifteen of his 
 best years as a Guardsman because his father, his 
 grandfather, and his great grandfather, and I 
 don't know how many greats back, had done the 
 same thing. He had as little freedom to follow 
 his natural bent as this man Reyburn has, who
 
 VISITORS AT KING'S LYNDON 149 
 
 ought to have been a lawyer and an advocate, and 
 is a shoemaker." 
 
 The discussion kept on good-naturedly during 
 the whole walk. It is not to be supposed that Miss 
 Wyndham remained quiet while the talk was in 
 progress. She interjected various remarks of a pene- 
 trating, if somewhat crude nature, accompanied by 
 a dazzling smile and much graceful gesticulation 
 with an ivory-handled lace parasol. 
 
 Theodora said little, although she listened with 
 interest. The circumstances of her life had directed 
 her attention more to the moral aspect of life 
 than to questions affecting concrete things. She 
 was more interested in the liberty of the soul than 
 the social condition of the individual. One additional 
 idea she had gained, and that was a new view of the 
 responsibility of money. Heretofore, she had only 
 thought of it in its primitive conception, that all 
 rich people ought to give money to the poor. Wynd- 
 ham agreed with Ashburton that gifts might rob 
 a man of his self-respect. This had not occurred to 
 Theodora until then. She thought that by the ex- 
 ercise of tact and delicacy, a gift could be made 
 in some way to almost anyone. Then she pondered 
 over Wyndham's saying that in Europe people be- 
 gin at the wrong end of economic things, by with- 
 holding a living wage and giving a pension instead. 
 
 She asked some questions so intelligently that 
 Wyndham earnestly advised Ashburton to secure 
 Theodora's services on the platform for Fermor.
 
 150 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 The house guests left on the Monday morning, 
 and Theodora resumed her life of quiet reflection. 
 Outwardly, there was much to do, to think of, and 
 to decide, and the mansion resounded with noise of 
 workmen all day. But there was nothing of a dis- 
 turbing nature. Not only Theodora but her father 
 was thinking about the future. Like all women, 
 Theodora studied her own heart closely, and she at 
 once realised that Fermor had a powerful and grow- 
 ing attraction for her. He was ever in her mind, not 
 in his aspect of rank, because to marry him would be 
 no real elevation to Madame Fontarini. Her per- 
 sonality, her fortune, gave her entrance anywhere, 
 and, as in her first marriage to Pietro Fontarini, 
 she would lose, rather than gain. As an American, 
 she was in principle and in effect the equal of 
 any person whatever in rank, although not in prece- 
 dence. When she entered the Fontarini family, one 
 of the greatest in Rome, she acquired a certain 
 precedence of some, and subordination to others. 
 This would be the effect of her becoming Lady Fer- 
 mor, and eventually Countess of Castlemaine. But 
 this gave Theodora no concern. She had inherited 
 in an extraordinary degree the American sense of 
 perfect equality with the highest, and her foreign 
 education and marriage had served to accentuate, 
 rather than modify, this. 
 
 All women act upon much they cannot formu- 
 late. So did Theodora, and when the time came that 
 she must ask herself where she belonged in the social
 
 VISITORS AT KING'S LYNDON 151 
 
 order, it was already settled in advance. She gave, 
 therefore, no thought to the question of rank with 
 which the world credited her. So, by the same sing- 
 ular contradiction, Fermor was but slightly influ- 
 enced by Madame Fontarini's millions, and the ex- 
 change of rank for money had but a shadowy exist- 
 ence in the mind of either Theodora or Fermor. The 
 one real appeal which Theodora's money made to 
 Fermor was that it would be agreeable to live once 
 more at King's Lyndon, for which he had a se- 
 cret and sentimental attachment. But to live at 
 King's Lyndon with a wrangling wife, or with Flora 
 Bellenden Fermor felt a wholesome disgust at the 
 idea. Theodora pleased his taste, and she had that 
 indefinable difference, that attraction of novelty, 
 which has made so many international marriages for 
 American women. He could safely predict what an 
 Englishwoman would say and do under given cir- 
 cumstances, but he could never predict what Theo- 
 dora would, except that it would be in good taste. 
 He had the old-fashioned English conception of the 
 wife, a woman who would look well at the head of 
 his table. This conception, it will be noted, merely 
 referred to the woman's looks, and not to her con- 
 versation, but Fermor was modern enough to admit 
 that the time had come when conversation counted 
 for something. 
 
 He was very keen concerning his election, and 
 proved an excellent campaigner. His constituents 
 were surprised and pleased at his knowledge and his
 
 152 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 mastery of party affairs. He even proved himself 
 an effective speaker, though always brief and some- 
 what caustic. 
 
 Ashburton addressed many meetings in the large 
 manufacturing towns and was listened to with re- 
 spect, if not approval. The fact, however, that he 
 was a Roman Catholic was against him. The old 
 saying that the Roman Catholics in England were 
 made up of the highest and the lowest, applied ex- 
 actly to the division of Midlandshire. The voters 
 made far less objection to the old Roman Catholic 
 families than to converts like Ashburton. The Eng- 
 lish mind dislikes the idea of change, which it gen- 
 erally confounds with revolution, and thereby forces 
 those who would be satisfied with gradual changes 
 into becoming revolutionists. Ashburton was the 
 soul of conservatism, but the fact that he had 
 changed his religion gave him the popular char- 
 acter of an iconoclast. Reyburn was very ardent in 
 Fermor's cause, but his advocacy was of doubtful 
 advantage. 
 
 On the evening preceding the day when Fermor 
 had said he would return for his answer, Theodora, 
 for the first time in the two weeks, broke her silence 
 with her father on the subject as they sat on the 
 terrace in the summer moonlight. She felt herself 
 blushing like a girl when she said to Seymour: 
 
 " To-morrow, you remember, Lord Fermor comes 
 for his answer." 
 
 " Do you think I could forget it? " asked Sey-
 
 VISITORS AT KING'S LYNDON 153 
 
 mour. " When a father is considering the marriage 
 of an only child, the best of daughters, it is not 
 likely to be out of his mind for very long. I have 
 been praying and hoping that you will accept Lord 
 Fermor, but I haven't dared to say one word." 
 
 " I shall accept Lord Fermor," said Theodora in 
 a low voice. Seymour raised her tenderly. 
 
 " You don't know what it is to me," he said with 
 a curious ring of pathos in his voice, " to feel that 
 you will be safe with a man's strong arm between 
 you and the world. Money, such as you have, and 
 as I shall give you, is no safeguard. It is only an 
 additional danger. But for that money, you would 
 have been saved from Pietro Fontarini. I have great 
 confidence in Lord Fermor, and I believe at last the 
 great happiness which you deserve is beginning." 
 
 Like the true American father, it had never en- 
 tered into Seymour's mind that his daughter had 
 not aroused the most passionate attachment in Lord 
 Fermor, or that he would not be as considerate of 
 her wishes as an American man would be. 
 
 The father and daughter sat long upon the ter- 
 race talking together with that unbroken confidence 
 which had ever been maintained between them, and 
 when Theodora said good-night and went to her 
 room, Seymour suspected that her heart was more 
 deeply involved than she was willing to admit. The 
 thought gave him profound satisfaction and comfort.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 SUNRISE 
 
 THE next morning's post brought Theodora a note 
 from Fermor. He was coming from London and 
 would reach King's Lyndon at five o'clock, to re- 
 main an hour, if she would not allow him to stay 
 longer. The composition of this note gave Fermor 
 much grim concern. The situation was quite un- 
 precedented. He had known of postponed engage- 
 ments, but never of a case when the lady kept the 
 gentleman, and an heir to an earldom besides, two 
 weeks in suspense. It was from the British point of 
 view an infringement of the gentleman's rights. But, 
 as Fermor thought with a smile, everything he had 
 ever seen about American women was without prece- 
 dent. One of the pleasures he anticipated, in case 
 the marriage came off, was telling Lady Susan Bat- 
 tle of being hung up in the air like Mahomet's cof- 
 fin, for two weeks, not knowing whether he were a 
 fiance or not, himself bound by every obligation, 
 while the lady remained perfectly and entirely free. 
 Theodora would have wished to see Fermor in the 
 very spot where he had proposed marriage to her, 
 but as he had touched but lightly on sentiment in 
 his words to her, pride forbade her. She chose for 
 their rendezvous the quaint old temple with its stained 
 
 154
 
 SUNRISE 155 
 
 marble columns by the side of the lake. It was quiet, 
 but not secluded, and therefore not the place for a 
 love scene. 
 
 The August afternoon was blue and bright, and 
 the gardens, which had resumed their splendid and 
 ordered beauty, as a princess resumes her robes of 
 state, were at last quiet and clear of working people. 
 The lake lay cool and still and shimmering with 
 gold and silver, and the velvet lawns spread out, 
 darkly green in the glow and glory of the afternoon 
 sun. 
 
 Toward five o'clock, Theodora walked across the 
 lawn to the temple, carrying for form's sake a book 
 in her hand. She had picked it up at random, and 
 did not look at it until she had reached the temple. 
 Then she blushed to find it a volume of Shelley. She 
 thought there was still time to carry it back to the 
 house, and she sped, with her peculiarly light and 
 graceful step, toward the yew alley, which was the 
 shortest way to the house. Just as she entered the 
 green solitude, she came face to face with Fermor. 
 
 " I am a little early," he said, smiling, " but a 
 man coming upon my errand, generally is, or ought 
 to be, early." 
 
 Theodora, in her surprise and confusion, dropped 
 the book, and Fermor picked it up, and without no- 
 ticing the title, put it in his pocket. 
 
 Theodora made no reply, but a delicate colour re- 
 placed the usual soft, clear pallor of her cheeks. This 
 pleased Fermor. He hated a woman without senti-
 
 ment, and was touched by Theodora's silence, which 
 was plainly the silence of controlled emotion. With- 
 out speaking, they walked between the dark-green 
 walls on either side of them, not toward the temple, 
 but toward the greater seclusion of the alley. A 
 stray gleam of sunshine fell upon Theodora, reveal- 
 ing the milky whiteness of her skin, against the ex- 
 treme darkness of her hair and eyes, and the slimness 
 of her figure in her white gown, with a thin, white 
 scarf floating from her shoulder. She was not 
 strictly beautiful, but Fermor thought he had never 
 seen a woman so exquisitely natural, or who sug- 
 gested beauty and grace so much as this slim black- 
 eyed woman. He knew her age perfectly well, but 
 as she suggested beauty, so she suggested youth, in 
 her girlish figure, and the frank simplicity of her 
 expression and voice. 
 
 When they neared the end of the alley, and 
 could see plainly the wide, bright expanse of the lake 
 shimmering in the splendour of the August sun, 
 Fermor laid a light but detaining hand upon the 
 filmy white scarf which half enveloped Theodora's 
 slight figure. 
 
 "You will let me remain, will not you not?" he 
 asked. 
 
 " Yes," replied Theodora after a pause, in a low 
 and composed voice. 
 
 Fermor took her hand and kissed it, saying gently : 
 " I shall hope to make you happier than you have 
 yet been."
 
 SUNRISE 157 
 
 If he had made protestations of love, Theodora's 
 distrust would have been instantly aroused. She 
 respected him the more for his reserve, but her 
 woman's instinct revealed to her that Fermor felt 
 more than he expressed.. There was an open admi- 
 ration in his eye, a note of tenderness in his voice 
 that said far more than his guarded words. He was, 
 in truth, more interested in Theodora than he was 
 prepared to avow, and looked keenly at her to dis- 
 cover if what he said had moved or agitated her. He 
 saw a deep flush, like a girl's blush, suddenly 
 flood her pale cheeks, and she glanced furtively at 
 him. 
 
 The man and the woman were each subtle, and 
 could read some unspoken words in the mind of each, 
 and could interpret glances and attitudes. The 
 change in their relations, which was accomplished in 
 a moment's time, gave each a swift and satisfactory 
 insight into the other. 
 
 Fermor did not reiterate his promise, and they 
 walked slowly and in palpitating silence up and down 
 the dark alley of yew trees. When they were quite 
 secure from observation, Theodora stopped, and 
 looking full into Fermor's face said, in a voice of 
 concentrated meaning: 
 
 " I will make you the same promise, to do all I 
 can for your happiness. You know perhaps some- 
 thing of what my life has been. I can tell you truly 
 that I never loved Pietro Fontarini. I was but 
 eighteen when I married him, and the fancy of a girl,
 
 158 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 a mere child, is not love. Within a week of the time 
 I married him oh, my God ! " 
 
 She clasped her hands together and her eyes 
 filled with tears at the recollection of her sufferings. 
 
 "He was the basest creature," she continued in a 
 trembling voice. " It is said that one should not 
 speak ill of the dead, but I hate Pietro Fontarini 
 dead, as I hated him living. I am a sincere woman 
 and it would be false if I said anything else. It is 
 not only that he caused the death of my child, and 
 insulted and ill-treated me, but it was that he never 
 told me the truth in his life. Perhaps in some ways 
 I did not make allowances enough, for I was uncom- 
 promising, as most young people are, but there are 
 some things one can't compromise. Pietro Fon- 
 tarini, besides, planted in my mind a distrust and 
 disbelief of God. You will believe me when I tell you 
 that love has been unknown to me." 
 
 " I do believe you," replied Fermor with deep 
 feeling, " and I knew as much before you spoke." 
 
 He took her hand again, and by that time Theo- 
 dora's eyes overflowed, and she was weeping and 
 trembling. Fermor felt as if he were receiving the 
 first confidences of a young girl. 
 
 Theodora was a woman of much natural self- 
 control and Fermor felt the profound flattery that 
 was conveyed by this sudden breaking down of her 
 reserve. He drew her to him and she leaned against 
 his shoulder and wept silently, Fermor drying her 
 eyes with her little lace-webbed handkerchief.
 
 SUNRISE 159 
 
 " Forget all that painful past," he said. " I will 
 do all I can to make you forget it." 
 
 " I will try," answered Theodora, recovering her 
 composure a little. " I don't know why all this should 
 have burst from me. I had no intention of saying 
 so much to you. I don't know why I did it." 
 
 " Perhaps," said Fermor, smiling, " you like me a 
 little better than you thought you did." 
 
 Half an hour later they were sitting on the ter- 
 race, and Theodora was giving Fermor his tea, and 
 they were talking so calmly together that the unob- 
 servant would never have known they had reached 
 and passed within an hour, a crisis in their lives. 
 But Fermor's usually cold face was eloquent with 
 meaning, and there was a subdued light in Theodora's 
 eyes. They felt a sweet return of their first youth. 
 They were talking together upon the subject most 
 interesting to the human mind, themselves and their 
 affairs. Fermor gained a strange insight into Theo- 
 dora's mind. The attitude of the American woman 
 was extraordinarily different in many ways concern- 
 ing domestic relations from the Englishwoman. 
 There was no surrender of the will on Theodora's 
 part, but a sweet complaisance that was in itself the 
 essence of flattery to a man. She did not make him 
 feel as if he were the only man in the world, but as if, 
 knowing many men, she preferred to play the haz- 
 ardous game of marriage with him than with any 
 other man. Of her delicacy and tact, especially in 
 regard to money, Fermor had ample proof. Many
 
 160 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 things surprised and puzzled him, but he expected to 
 find puzzles and surprises in every woman. One was 
 that Theodora evidently expected that her marriage 
 would make no changes whatever in her relations with 
 her father, although she mentioned that Seymour 
 had determined to take up his residence at Barley- 
 wood, a small estate which was a part of the King's 
 Lyndon property. 
 
 " Papa and I have settled it," said Theodora. 
 " Then I can see him every day, for I am sure papa 
 could not be happy very far away from me, nor 
 could I be happy with him far away." 
 
 Fermor agreed, as a newly engaged man does. 
 He had heard and read of the devotion of the Amer- 
 ican father and he realised it was something totally 
 different from the relations of the normal British 
 father. 
 
 Fermor, following the custom of his country, 
 pressed for an immediate marriage, at which Theo- 
 dora was genuinely surprised. Fermor found him- 
 self secretly amused at the unexpected simplicity, the 
 want of sophistication, in this woman of thirty who 
 had been a wife and a mother. 
 
 After tea they walked up and down the terrace 
 together in the darkening evening. Unconsciously, 
 they slipped into the attitude of lovers, and when 
 they leaned on the balustrade, watching the moon 
 climbing into the sky, and the soft shadows of the 
 night veil the odorous garden, Theodora's hand 
 rested secretly, and with sweet content, in Fermor's.
 
 SUNRISE 161 
 
 Seymour had judiciously absented himself the 
 whole afternoon, and when he returned and saw Fer- 
 mor and Theodora on the terrace, he felt safe in 
 asking Fermor to remain to dinner. To this Fermor 
 coolly replied that he had come prepared both to dine 
 and sleep if he were asked. At this, Theodora 
 laughed, and Seymour smiling, extended the invita- 
 tion to the next morning. Then, they separated to 
 dress for dinner. After Theodora was dressed, she 
 heard her father enter the little boudoir, and going 
 into the room, she put her arms about his neck and 
 kissed him with solemn tenderness. 
 
 " I am beginning a new life with hope the hope 
 of happiness. But, papa, nothing, nothing, can 
 ever come between you and me. Not all my past 
 wretchedness, nor any happiness which may be in 
 store for me, will ever make any difference. You 
 know that, don't you, papa?" 
 
 " Yes," replied Seymour, " I know it well." 
 
 He held Theodora off a little way and looked at 
 her with profound pride. She had chosen for that 
 evening the same silvery gown in which Fermor had 
 first seen her at Petersham House. 
 
 Her aspect was altogether brighter and gayer 
 than Seymour had ever expected to see in her 
 again. 
 
 " Now," he said, " be ten minutes late in coming 
 down. I daresay Lord Fermor wants to have a word 
 or two with me, and I shall give him his chance." 
 
 Few men anticipate with pleasure the first inter-
 
 162 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 view with a prospective father-in-law, but Fermor's 
 was as easy as could well be expected. 
 
 "You see," said Seymour, as the two men sat to- 
 gether in the great, dim, rose-scented drawing-room 
 waiting for Theodora, " my daughter is entirely 
 alone in the world. The thought that I might die 
 and leave her unprotected has been a most painful 
 one to me. It was that which made me encourage 
 her marriage with that " 
 
 Seymour's singularly mild and placid face grew 
 dark and almost distorted as he spoke. 
 
 " That scoundrel, Pietro Fontarini. I am not a 
 man of the world, Lord Fermor. I made my money 
 very rapidly and even accidentally, and for certain 
 reasons I have lived abroad. I don't understand the 
 structure of European society at all, and I don't 
 seem to be able to make myself very well understood 
 by Europeans, although better with you and Major 
 Ashburton than any men I have met so far. After 
 my experience with Fontarini, you can't be surprised 
 that I should take every possible precaution as far 
 as I can to secure my daughter's happiness and in- 
 dependence, but I can assure you from a knowledge 
 of her character that if you win her affection you 
 will never be made to feel, either by her or by me, 
 that the money is hers." 
 
 Seymour then coolly named a sum and the condi- 
 tions upon which it was to be settled upon Theodora 
 and any children which she might have, that was so 
 large and on such generous terms that Fermor in-
 
 SUNRISE 163 
 
 voluntarily showed surprise. Seymour smiled his 
 slow smile. 
 
 " Don't think," he said, " that this is a mere 
 dowry for my daughter, with more to come. It is 
 three-fourths of what I have, and the part I have 
 kept for myself is three or four times as much as I'll 
 spend, because my tastes are very simple. I shall 
 go to live at Barleywood, and come over to see 
 Theodora every day, and if I don't come, she will 
 come to see me. And if I am ill you may depend 
 upon it that Theodora won't give anyone much of 
 her society until I am well again. That's my daugh- 
 ter, my Theodora, and that's the material of which 
 good wives are made." 
 
 At that moment Theodora entered the drawing- 
 room. There was something angelic in her appear- 
 ance as the glow of the shaded lamps and the candles 
 in the sconces of the great room shone upon her shim- 
 mering silvery gown that looked like a beam of moon- 
 light. She was quite devoid of self-consciousness 
 and far more composed and unembarrassed than was 
 Fermor. This, too, struck Fermor's sense of humour. 
 His American fiancee was full of the unexpected. 
 
 " It is all settled, my love," said Seymour, rising 
 with Fermor as Theodora came up to them. " I 
 think you will be happy, and my mind is at ease 
 concerning you." 
 
 Fermor said what was expected of him, and said 
 it as a sincere man should. Then they went in to din- 
 ner, at which Theodora presided with a soft bright-
 
 164. THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 ness, and with so little embarrassment that the but- 
 ler and footmen, accustomed to English -fiancees, 
 concluded the whole business had gone wrong, and 
 Lord Fermor had not proposed. 
 
 Fermor, at bed time, was pleased with the thought- 
 fulness which put him in his old rooms. Reyburn, 
 taking a nurse's privilege, came to talk with him, 
 while he smoked his last cigar in the room that had 
 been his study, and looking out through the open 
 window on the still summer night. Reyburn was full 
 of praises of the new people at King's Lyndon. 
 
 " When Madame Fontarini told me you would 
 probably spend the night, I said to her: 
 
 " * Perhaps, mem, Lord Fermor would like his old 
 rooms,' and she said: *I was just about to tell you 
 to prepare those rooms.' ' 
 
 When Fermor was left alone he still sat at the 
 window and heard the great clock in the clock tower 
 at the end of the terrace, chime twelve, one, and two 
 o'clock. The moon had gone down, but the stars 
 glittered brightly in the unclouded night sky. A 
 soft wind, that seemed to come from a far-off 
 world, fitfully stirred the trees and waved the 
 ivy that curtained the w^all. Fermor felt a strange 
 peace upon his soul. He was surprised that he did 
 not feel exactly the contrary, which might well be 
 when one faces a cataclysmal change in one's 
 life like marriage. To make this composure of his 
 soul still stranger, he was conscious that the whole 
 viewpoint of marriage was different on the part of
 
 SUNRISE 165 
 
 Theodora and her father than any to which he had 
 been accustomed. The settlements offered by Sey- 
 mour were magnificent, as far as his daughter was 
 concerned, but made absolutely no provision for 
 Fermor in the event of Theodora's death. He would 
 have been perfectly justified, according to his code, 
 in requiring a settlement on himself, and certainly 
 would have demanded it had he been marrying an 
 Englishwoman, but Fermor knew instinctively the 
 least mention of a settlement on himself would be re- 
 garded as mercenary to the last degree. Even with 
 this unprecedented uncertainty thrown in, he felt 
 at ease. He even smiled to himself at the effect of 
 this, which was practically to put him on his good 
 behaviour as a husband and to keep him there, and 
 laughed in anticipation of Lord Castlemaine's in- 
 dignation and Lady Susan Battle's fury. 
 
 Theodora's confession touched Fermor deeply, and 
 he asked himself if it were necessary for him to con- 
 fess anything to Theodora, about Flora Bellenden, 
 for instance. A very short reflection determined him 
 to say nothing specific. He would tell Theodora 
 that he had some things to repent and to be ashamed 
 of in his former life, but that he had taken a reso- 
 lution of amendment the very day and hour in which 
 he first saw her. A sense of satisfaction pervaded 
 Fermor's mind; he felt like a man going into battle 
 for the first time, and being surprised and pleased 
 at his own coolness. 
 
 Next morning he spent some hours with Theo-
 
 166 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 dora before leaving by the noon train for London. 
 Theodora was out early among her flower beds, 
 according to her custom, and Fermor, while dress- 
 ing, saw her pacing up and down the edge of the 
 lake, and throwing bread to the waterfowl. 
 
 After breakfast Fermor and Theodora walked to- 
 gether through the park. New surprises awaited 
 him at every point in his interview with Theodora. 
 He had expected that the day for the marriage 
 would be named before he left King's Lyndon and 
 was thoroughly staggered when Theodora said she 
 thought it would be best to wait until after Christ- 
 mas at least, for many reasons, and that the engage- 
 ment must be kept absolutely secret until not more 
 than a month before the marriage took place. 
 
 " You see," she said calmly, as they stood in front 
 of the little temple and watched the ducks sedately 
 making their toilettes in the rushes, " the restora- 
 tion of the house is well under way, and my father 
 wishes me to be here to see that things are properly 
 done. What are you laughing at ? " 
 
 " I am trying to accommodate my British mind 
 to your American ideals," replied Fermor, laugh- 
 ing still more. " It is all perfectly right, of 
 course." 
 
 " But you never saw a daughter who had quite 
 so many privileges as I," replied Theodora, smiling. 
 " In America, daughters have great privileges, but 
 I believe even in America my father would be reck- 
 oned the most indulgent of fathers. However, don't
 
 SUNRISE 167 
 
 you see that it is best not to arrange for our mar- 
 riage until after Christmas, when everything will 
 be in order ? " 
 
 " I can't say that I do," replied Fermor like a 
 gallant gentleman. 
 
 Nevertheless, he did see the sound sense in what 
 Theodora said. The plans were all made, and the 
 work, costing a very large sum of money, then going 
 on, required someone to superintend it. Theodora 
 was plainly that someone, and not Seymour. If 
 the marriage should take place immediately, either 
 Fermor and Theodora must go away, or if they re- 
 mained, they would be embarrassed at every turn by 
 the unfinished condition of their house. Then, too, 
 Fermor's election was another reason for delay. But 
 what Fermor could not understand was, the reason 
 for not acknowledging the engagement. 
 
 " It would be useless and a little embarrassing," 
 said Theodora, with gentle conviction. " It is no 
 one's affair except yours and mine. I believe that 
 you think it a little disreputable to keep it quiet." 
 
 " Well er an engaged man or woman going 
 around with the engagement unacknowledged is 
 looked upon as somewhat fraudulent, but I suppose 
 we must learn of our cousins, the Americans." 
 
 " Decidedly you must, but we may arrange it in 
 this way that no engagement shall exist until after 
 Christmas, we will say." 
 
 Fermor looked at Theodora with admiration. 
 
 " Where did you find out all of these ingenious
 
 168 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 American subterfuges? You were not brought up in 
 America; is it in the blood? " 
 
 " Yes," answered Theodora, " it is in the blood. 
 I have not seen my native country since I was ten 
 years old. I was educated in France and have spent 
 my life in Italy and England, and yet I feel, I see 
 the gulf between the American and European way 
 of looking at things." 
 
 Fermor found himself acquiescing, if not actually 
 agreeing, with Theodora In a manner which con- 
 vinced him that he was fast deeply slipping in love 
 with her.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 LORD CASTLEMAINE is PUZZLED 
 
 FERMOB. returned to London to meet Lord Castle- 
 maine by appointment. The town was quite de- 
 serted, but Castlemaine House stood open all the 
 year round. Lord Castlemaine heard Fermor's ac- 
 count of the arrangement, the proposition concern- 
 ing money, and all the other details of the engage- 
 ment, including the secrecy of it, with amazement. 
 He had, however, that perfect toleration of a man 
 of the world, and his only comment was: 
 
 " I hereby reserve for myself the pleasure of tell- 
 ing these details to Susan Battle. Especially the 
 not acknowledging the engagement. Ha ! ha ! " 
 
 Lord Castlemaine laughed a great laugh of 
 amusement and fury. 
 
 Then he begun to talk about Fermor's election 
 prospects, which were good, and announced his will- 
 ingness to make several addresses to the voters of 
 the division. Fermor referred him to his election 
 managers, for Lord Castlemaine's political services 
 were always particularly dreaded by those whom he 
 offered to assist. 
 
 " It is a pity you can't have the help of your 
 future wife in the present election," said Lord 
 
 169
 
 170 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 Castlemaine. " That would seem a reason for hav- 
 ing the marriage take place at once." 
 
 " She made it a reason for postponing the mar- 
 riage," answered Fermor. " She has never con- 
 templated speaking on platforms, and has a prej- 
 udice against it, and says she would not know what 
 to say." 
 
 " She needn't say anything none of them ever 
 do. But she could simply sit on the platform, utter 
 a few pretty things, and wear a fine gown. I shall 
 tell her so if I have a chance." 
 
 Lord Castlemaine was not a man to wait for 
 chances, but to make them. Two days afterward 
 he appeared at King's Lyndon to make, as he told 
 Fermor, his recommendations in person. Lord Castle- 
 maine found Theodora deep in consultation with an 
 eminent landscape gardener from London, who was 
 looking slightly puzzled at the authority Theodora 
 assumed in her father's absence. 
 
 " I was just saying to Mr. Clemsen," she said to 
 Lord Castlemaine, " that my father and I had de- 
 termined upon a restoration of the old Dutch gar- 
 dens, beyond the Italian gardens, just as they were 
 a hundred years ago. It is not that we are afraid 
 of innovation, but that we think the original plan 
 was good." 
 
 " Excellent," answered Lord Castlemaine. " The 
 place is mentioned in Lord Hervey's Memoirs, and 
 lie says that the plan of the gardens, especially the
 
 LORD CASTLEMAINE IS PUZZLED 171 
 
 Dutch gardens, he considered better than those at 
 Kew." 
 
 " But we have advanced a little " begun 
 
 Clemsen. 
 
 " Retrograded, you mean," interrupted Lord 
 Castlemaine. " The old Italians knew more about 
 gardens than ever we shall know, and the old 
 Romans antedated them. The Dutch even knew 
 more than we do. No, my dear Madame Fontarini, 
 you have shown your usual good taste in restoring 
 the gardens. I don't say that from prejudice, 
 because as a matter of fact I never had any par- 
 ticular attachment to this place. It ate up a great 
 deal of money when I kept it going, and I could 
 neither take it up to London with me, nor bring 
 London down here." 
 
 Theodora invited him into the house, but Lord 
 Castlemaine, who meant to have a talk in which he 
 could air his opinions freely, and could raise his 
 voice if necessary, suggested to Theodora that they 
 walk through the shrubbery. 
 
 Once alone on the velvet grass in the summer 
 morning, Lord Castlemaine expressed his pleasure 
 in very handsome terms at the coming marriage. 
 No man could turn a compliment better than the 
 Earl of Castlemaine, and Theodora's woman's pride 
 was flattered by this polished savage being so ami- 
 able to her. 
 
 " The only fault I find," he said, " is the post-
 
 ,172 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 ponement of the marriage. As to the engagement, 
 it is in England a base thing to let a -fiance go at 
 large without ticketing him, but we are learning of 
 the Americans, my dear lady, a great many artful 
 things. So if Fermor wins you in the end, we may 
 adopt some of your interesting methods. But I do 
 think it a pity that Fermor has not the benefit of 
 your services in the campaign, as you call it in 
 America. You should be married at once, and as 
 Lady Fermor, you could go on the platform and 
 you would be a great success." 
 
 " I go on the platform ! " cried Theodora. " What 
 could I possibly say that any voter would want to 
 hear? " 
 
 " My charming friend, you need not say any- 
 thing. Show your attractive self and tell the voters 
 your ambition is that your husband shall be an 
 M. P." 
 
 " Nobody can convince others who is not himself 
 or herself convinced," replied Theodora, with the 
 same gentle decisiveness that was always astonish- 
 ing Fermor. 
 
 It astonished and diverted Lord Castlemaine, who 
 said to himself that Lady Susan Battle would find it 
 no merry jest to demolish this soft-voiced, clear- 
 eyed woman, and he promised himself the pleasure 
 of being present if possible on some of the occa- 
 sions when Lady Susan Battle should, as she cer- 
 tainly would, attempt to make a Roman holiday of 
 the future Lady Fermor. Lord Castlemaine had
 
 LORD CASTLEMAINE IS PUZZLED 173 
 
 come down with the fixed intention of doing two 
 things. One was, hastening the marriage ; the other, 
 of getting some better terms out of Seymour for 
 Fermor. This last might be called a purely disin- 
 terested effort to obtain justice for an Englishman. 
 
 After a very agreeable walk and interesting con- 
 versation with Theodora, Lord Castlemaine discov- 
 ered, as Fermor had done, that he was dealing with 
 a new variety of woman, known to him heretofore 
 in theory, but not in practice. Her native language 
 was English, but with that exception she was 
 markedly unlike an Englishwoman or any other va- 
 riety of woman with whom Lord Castlemaine was 
 familiar either in life or literature. As in Lord 
 Fermor's case, Lord Castlemaine was secretly 
 amused and interested at the infinite difference be- 
 tween what he expected Theodora to say and do and 
 what she said and did. Always smiling, composed, 
 and complaisant in manner, she innocently assumed, 
 meanwhile, that she was mistress of the situation. 
 At the conclusion of the interview, Lord Castlemaine, 
 who never blinked the truth to himself, however he 
 might do it to others, was convinced that he had 
 been completely unhorsed in his first tilt, and that 
 Theodora would not be married until it suited her 
 sovereign pleasure. 
 
 At luncheon Seymour appeared, and was the soul 
 of simple and kindly hospitality. There was neither 
 elation nor patronage in his manner and an entire 
 absence of self-consciousness both on his part and
 
 Theodora's. Lord Castlemaine thought he had never 
 seen so unembarrassed a fiancee as his future daugh- 
 ter-in-law. 
 
 After luncheon Lord Castlemaine expected to be 
 left alone with Seymour when he would broach the 
 question of Fermor's financial terms. Himself having 
 treated Fermor with the greatest injustice and 
 rapine, as it were, he was, like many other men, will- 
 ing to force what he considered justice for Fermor 
 from another man. Besides, Lord Castlemaine had 
 in him the ineradicable germ of respect for his order. 
 After all, Fermor was conferring a great honour, so 
 Lord Castlemaine honestly thought, upon this un- 
 known and obscure American woman, whose sole 
 title to equality he considered was her marriage, dis- 
 astrous though it might be, into the great Roman 
 family of Fontarini. He could not but think that 
 Seymour would prove more malleable in the matter 
 of money than Theodora had been on the question 
 of the date of the marriage. 
 
 When the two men went out on the terrace to 
 smoke, however, Seymour, after his custom, drew 
 Theodora's arm within his arm. She struck the 
 match for her father's cigar, and showed him the 
 prettiest little attentions imaginable. 
 
 The idea that Lord Castlemaine might have some- 
 thing to discuss with Seymour plainly did not enter 
 either Seymour's or Theodora's mind. When the 
 cigars were finished, Lord Castlemaine with his usual 
 frankness said to Seymour:
 
 " There are some matters I should like very much 
 to discuss with you in private. Perhaps Madame 
 Fontarini will excuse us for half an hour." 
 
 Theodora rose with a slightly heightened colour, 
 and regretted that she had not left her future 
 father-in-law alone with her father. 
 
 When she had stepped indoors, Lord Castlemaine 
 said: 
 
 " I think it would be rather better if our conver- 
 sation were in a more private place." 
 
 " Come into my study," replied Seymour. 
 
 Lord Castlemaine followed his host into a small 
 room, up a flight of stairs, one of the few which the 
 workmen had not invaded. 
 
 " It is next my daughter's boudoir/' said Sey- 
 mour, shutting the door. " It is very convenient on 
 that account. But my daughter is not in her bou- 
 doir at present and it is quite private." 
 
 Lord Castlemaine knew the room well and its un- 
 changed appearance gave him a feeling as if King's 
 Lyndon had not yet entirely passed out of his pos- 
 seesion. He began with his usual directness. 
 
 " Fermor has told me," he said, " of the really 
 magnificent settlements you have made upon Ma- 
 dame Fontarini, and I suppose he is very much in 
 love with your daughter, who is certainly charming 
 enough in all conscience, to have agreed to the terms 
 on which it is given her. For himself, there is abso- 
 lutely no provision in the event of the future Lady 
 Fermor's death, and even if there are children, every-
 
 176 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 thing appears to be tied up so that Fermor is made 
 a pensioner, so to speak, upon his children." 
 
 This plain and accurate statement of the case did 
 not appear to shock or surprise Seymour. On the 
 contrary, after a moment's reflection, he said: 
 
 " I think you have stated it clearly enough. I'm 
 doing for my daughter what any American father 
 would do, I think. If Lord Fermor shows my daugh- 
 ter the kindness and affection for which I hope, I'll 
 say to you, as I said to him, that you will never be 
 made to feel either by her or by me that the money 
 came to him by marriage instead of inheritance." 
 
 " Very pretty that," said Lord Castlemaine, " but 
 absolutely outlandish according to British ideals. 
 Everything connected with marriage is a compro- 
 mise, and our ideas concerning a woman's fortune 
 in marriage are so radically different from American 
 ideas that mutual concessions must be made. What 
 we would consider perfectly justifiable conduct on 
 the part of a husband, you might, according to 
 the American notion, consider quite unjustifiable. 
 The future Lady Fermor might withhold from her 
 husband for reasons not accepted by us, money 
 which we would consider him justly entitled to claim. 
 And if there are children, they would find out eventu- 
 ally their father's state of dependence, and the whole 
 position would be intolerable for Fermor." 
 
 Seymour had listened with his usual mild manner, 
 and Lord Castlemaine concluded that as a man of 
 business, Sevmour was able to see the matter from
 
 LORD CASTLEMAINE IS PUZZLED 177 
 
 the practical point of view. He was disillusioned, 
 however, when Seymour, after a pause replied with 
 calm deliberation, tapping a pencil lightly on the 
 table to emphasise what he said as he looked straight 
 into Lord Castlemaine's brilliant eyes, shining under 
 his beetling brows : 
 
 " I'm afraid there isn't much room for compromise 
 in this matter. If Lord Fermor feels that he is not 
 being well treated, he is at perfect liberty to with- 
 draw now and at any moment up to the very hour 
 that the marriage is to take place, and in this I speak 
 for my daughter as well as for myself. All Lord 
 Fermor has to do is to intimate what you say and 
 the thing is settled. As a result of keeping the en- 
 gagement entirely secret, my daughter will not be 
 embarrassed by Lord Fermor's withdrawal." 
 
 Here was the unexpected with a vengeance. The 
 heir presumptive to an earldom in England is not 
 suffered to withdraw from a marriage engagement 
 at the least intimation, and without the slightest 
 smirch upon his honour. There could b'e no doubt 
 of Seymour's sincerity, and that he knew what he 
 was talking about. Lord Castlemaine, a little stag- 
 gered, said, following a pause: 
 
 " I don't think there is any question of with- 
 drawal. I am inclined to suspect Lord Fermor of 
 being, as I told you before, very much charmed with 
 Madame Fontarini." 
 
 " I suppose he must be if he wants to marry her," 
 replied Seymour placidly, " and my daughter is a
 
 178 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 woman very well calculated to make a man fall in 
 love with her. I'm very proud of my daughter, Lord 
 Castlemaine." 
 
 " I never saw an American father who wasn't 
 proud of a daughter," replied Lord Castlemaine with 
 a cheerful grin, " and I have seen some American 
 daughters by no means as charming as Madame Fon- 
 tarini, who were regarded with awe and delight by 
 their adoring parents, though not by anybody else. 
 However, to return from the abstract to the concrete. 
 If there are children, as I say, it would appear as if 
 Lord Fermor would have no control whatever over 
 their property. Everything would be in the hands 
 of trustees." 
 
 " He would have the moral influence of a good 
 father," answered Seymour, " and if he is not a good 
 father and didn't treat them properly, I should 
 simply go, as any other American father would do, 
 and take my daughter and her children away from 
 him." 
 
 Lord Castlemaine thought that life held no more 
 surprises for him, but this cool statement made by a 
 man whom he considered simple in some ways, though 
 clear-headed enough in others, astounded him. 
 
 " I think, you might find great difficulty in carry- 
 ing out this plan in England," said Lord Castle- 
 maine ; " the courts would never permit it." 
 
 " Perhaps not," replied Seymour, " but that is a 
 conclusive reason for making Lord Fermor's income 
 dependent upon his good treatment of my daugh-
 
 LORD CASTLEMAINE IS PUZZLED 179 
 
 ter. In America a father has no legal right to his 
 daughter's children, but I can truly say I never 
 heard of an instance where a father to protect his 
 daughter from an unkind husband, failed to take 
 her children with her, because the woman, you see, 
 won't leave her children behind. That is the un- 
 written law, and the unwritten law is much more 
 closely observed in America than the written law. 
 It's up to the son-in-law then to get the courts to al- 
 low him to see his children, but the courts are in- 
 variably very chary in giving free access on the 
 part of a bad father or husband to his children. 
 The burden of proof is upon him, and the court is 
 generally dead set against him." 
 
 " You wouldn't find an English court dead set 
 against the man under those circumstances," said 
 Lord Castlemaine. 
 
 "Probably not, but I assure you that if my 
 daughter and her children were ill treated I would 
 get her out of her husband's hands if it cost me 
 every dollar I have on earth. In her marriage with 
 Pietro Fontarini, she kept many things from me, 
 knowing very well what I would do, and I for a long 
 time, not looking beneath the surface, didn't know 
 her sufferings. I made a blunder of it from the be- 
 ginning to the end of that marriage, and I deter- 
 mined that if my daughter ever marries again, I 
 would protect her against such awful possibilities." 
 
 Lord Castlemaine sat silent. He was aware that 
 he had received an ultimatum, and that it was use-
 
 180 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 less to say another word on the subject. While he 
 was turning over the matter of this unreasonable- 
 ness on the part of American fathers, Seymour spoke 
 with a note in his voice which Lord Castlemaine had 
 not before heard. 
 
 " May I ask if you in any way represent Lord 
 Fermor in this matter? " 
 
 " No," answered Lord Castlemaine. " I told him 
 
 that he was very much . Well, never mind what 
 
 I said, but there was no suggestion on his part in 
 any attempt to change the terms of settlement." 
 
 " Consider well, Lord Castlemaine," said Sey- 
 mour, fixing his eyes on Lord Castlemaine, " and 
 consult your memory again to make absolutely 
 sure." 
 
 Lord Castlemaine shook his head. 
 
 "Fermor did not say a word looking to a demand 
 for a change in the settlements." 
 
 " I am glad of that, for the good opinion I wish 
 to entertain of Lord Fermor. If this suggestion 
 had come from him in the remotest degree, or even 
 if he had known the object of your interview, the 
 engagement would have been off at this moment." 
 
 Lord Castlemaine sat plunged forward in his chair 
 looking through the window at the wide green lawns, 
 the glowing gardens, the ornamental water, basking 
 in the still, quiet summer afternoon. 
 
 What a people were these Americans anyhow! 
 There was Theodora, who had in her, Lord Castle- 
 maine was well convinced, nothing of surrender that
 
 LORD CASTLEMAINE IS PUZZLED 181 
 
 was not voluntary. Lady Susan Battle in her most 
 voluminous crimson satin or enormous purple velvet 
 gown, with her tallest feathers and her largest gloves 
 and shoes, would not make the slightest impression 
 upon this delicately made, gentle-voiced woman. And 
 here was Seymour, this provincial American, with 
 his habit of saying " Sir," upon unnecessary occa- 
 sions, and his general want of sophistication, who 
 coolly proposed to throw over Fermor if the least 
 effort were made to put him on a footing which no 
 English father would dream of denying to him. 
 And the worst of it was there was no doing any- 
 thing with either of these recalcitrants. 
 
 Lord Castlemaine rose, grinning. He rather en- 
 joyed his defeat; it had in it some comic elements, 
 and, after all, it was Fermor, and not he, who was 
 being robbed of his own, so to speak. He real- 
 ised that Seymour might have retaliated by remind- 
 ing him that he had not himself paid the slightest 
 regard to Fermor's rights, but Lord Castlemaine 
 concluded that rights of property were so little un- 
 derstand by Americans that Seymour would scarcely 
 appreciate that point. There was clearly nothing 
 more to be said, and Lord Castlemaine took his leave. 
 The coming discomfiture of Lady Susan Battle, he 
 concluded, would be more entertaining and dramatic 
 even than he expected, and it would be very much 
 enlivened by what he himself had to tell of his own 
 unhorsing.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 LIGHT! MORE LIGHT! 
 
 FERMOR as a lover proved a model of good taste 
 and discretion. His electoral labours in the division 
 accounted for his being frequently in the neighbour- 
 hood, and especially at King's Lyndon, in order to 
 retain as much as possible of the interest he had once 
 possessed there. The upset condition of the house 
 and the necessity of superintending the great masses 
 of work, kept Theodora much at home, so that there 
 was little beyond the general suspicion attached to 
 every man in Europe who looks twice at a woman, 
 to connect Theodora's name with Fermor's. 
 
 While Fermor was busy with his election matters, 
 and meanwhile doing an immense amount of reading 
 on parliamental affairs, Theodora was pursuing a 
 new train of thought. For the first time in ten years 
 she caught a glimpse of the blue sky above her. She 
 began to ask herself the true meaning of it. Were 
 she and all the multitudes of human souls that had 
 ever existed, really puppets in the awful sport of 
 Destiny, and was the Power that creates, a vast 
 blundering, bungling force that could make things, 
 but could not control them when made? She began 
 to feel for the first time a strong craving for light. 
 Before this, she had demanded help from God, first 
 
 182
 
 LIGHT! MORE LIGHT! 183 
 
 with eager confidence, then with agonised supplica- 
 tion, and at last in sullen and silent resentment. 
 Two or three times while in London some impulse 
 had drawn her within the open door of a church. 
 They had been Roman Catholic churches, simply be- 
 cause their doors were open. The freedom to come 
 and go, the dim seclusion, the faint but undying 
 light that burned before the altar, gave her a sense 
 of repose, and the subtle feeling of the Divine Pres- 
 ence. She found herself involuntarily kneeling and 
 bowing her head upon her hands. Then, the memory 
 of her Italian life would return to her, the hours that 
 she spent kneeling on the stones of Roman churches, 
 imploring Jesus if He were really present on the 
 altar, to help her, as He had helped those who came 
 to Him in the Judean villages by the shores of Gali- 
 lee, in the house of Simon, the rich leper, and Peter, 
 the illiterate fisherman. But no help had come, and as 
 this thought forced itself into her mind she would 
 feel hatred and scorn for a God who could help His 
 creatures and would not. This feeling was always 
 more poignant when she was in a church, and it 
 seemed as if there were a Presence there, a God who 
 could help, but would not. 
 
 She recalled the gorgeous Italian basilicas, the 
 magnificent ceremonials, the multitudes of kneeling 
 people, the lights, the incense, the Gothic architec- 
 ture, which of itself directed all eyes, all rays of 
 light, all hearts, all minds, toward the altar. That 
 Theodora felt awed and touched under those cir-
 
 184 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 cumstances she understood was not strange ; she was 
 moved by the great psychic wave of belief and prayer 
 that swept over the multitudes. But this was absent 
 when she entered a lonely and darkened church, with 
 only a few kneeling figures, the altar without cere- 
 monial, only the light burning before the Tabernacle. 
 She had seen much of what was called piety in the 
 family of Fontarini. They regarded her as heretical 
 and used every mode of persuasion and even a sort 
 of coercion to induce her at least to conform out- 
 wardly to the Roman Catholic religion. But Theo- 
 dora was too sincere for this. These appeals which 
 to Theodora's clear perception were not addressed to 
 her heart, but only to her conduct, gave her a dis- 
 trust for the religion of the Fontarinis. Only in 
 Cardinal Fontarini did she find any real love of God. 
 He combined the utmost outward splendour and dig- 
 nity with a monk-like austerity of which the world 
 knew nothing. One of the finest of the cardinals' 
 residences in Rome belonged to Cardinal Fontarini, 
 but he himself lived in two bare little rooms and 
 fared like an anchorite. He was a student and a 
 scholar and had but little understanding of women, 
 least of all this young American girl, who was think- 
 ing and acting for herself at a time when Italian 
 girls are reciting their lessons in a convent. But 
 after Pietro Fontarini's conduct had culminated in 
 the death of the child, and when the issue was 
 made between Theodora on one side and on the 
 other the great Fontarini family, bent on protect-
 
 LIGHT! MORE LIGHT! 185 
 
 ing the name of Fontarini, did the Cardinal declare 
 himself openly on Theodora's side. Even then the 
 understanding between himself and Theodora had 
 not been very clear, beyond the Cardinal recognising 
 in Theodora an innocent and stricken creature, and 
 Theodora finding in the Cardinal a perfect integrity 
 of mind and courage to take the side of the injured. 
 A correspondence had been maintained between them 
 at long but regular intervals. It consisted of grate- 
 ful and respectful letters from Theodora, and brief 
 but kind answers from the Cardinal. But Theo- 
 dora never dreamed of telling him her doubts and 
 her desires. Now, when in a few months she would 
 again become a wife, Theodora began to reflect upon 
 marriage in its sacramental aspect. Her natural 
 loftiness of mind and delicacy of temperament made 
 her a disbeliever in divorce. She revolted from the 
 idea that marriage was a civil contract merely, and 
 that when the contract was violated, anothed civil 
 contract could be formed. She asked herself how 
 could religion give its sanction to marriage unless 
 it were inviolable? Theodora found herself obliged 
 to admit that the only inviolable marriage bond was 
 that furnished by the Roman Catholic Church. 
 Slowly, but inevitably, a strong desire formed itself 
 in Theodora's mind to be married by the Roman 
 Catholic rite, if possible. But would it be possible 
 if neither she nor Lord Fermor were Roman Catho- 
 lics? Nor did she find in herself at first any incli- 
 nation to become a Roman Catholic. It was too
 
 186 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 much like paying a price to obtain what she wanted, 
 the sacramental character attached to her marriage. 
 There was none to whom she could speak these 
 thoughts ; they would simply have mystified her 
 father. 
 
 After some weeks, she concluded to go and ask 
 an interview with the parish priest at Hillborough, 
 where she had gone to Mass with Ashburton and 
 the Marsacs. 
 
 The day was wet and stormy when Theodora 
 started, but this child of fortune and misfortune had 
 all the appliances of money at her command, and 
 Hillborough could be reached in half an hour by a 
 motor car. It was about five o'clock in the afternoon, 
 dark and rainy, when Theodora found herself in the 
 study of the parish priest. In a moment or two, he 
 entered and introduced himself as Father Redcliffe. 
 Theodora looked at him with a curious kind of sym- 
 pathy and admiration. He was young, barely thirty, 
 and looked much less, and had an ascetic beauty, a 
 noble innocence such as a man may well have who is 
 destined from his cradle to be a Levite. His figure 
 was slight, but well made, as his black robe revealed, 
 and his thin aquiline features were extremely hand- 
 some. He had the large thin-lipped mouth of the 
 orator and a beautiful softness and benignancy 
 shone in his young face. He was so polished, so 
 graceful, so charming, Theodora felt instantly 
 at ease with him. She knew that Kemlin Redcliffe 
 came of one of the oldest and most distinguished
 
 LIGHT! MORE LIGHT! 187 
 
 Roman Catholic families in England, and she saw 
 that his nature was pure and spiritual. In truth, 
 the severe discipline and self-sacrifice of the priest- 
 hood were so easy, so natural to Kemlin Redcliffe 
 that it scarcely seemed either discipline or self-sacri- 
 fice. He had passed from a beautiful and pious home- 
 life into the religious life, where his steadiness, his 
 purity of intention, his antecedents, placed him in 
 charge of a parish at an extremely early age. The 
 heaviest care he had ever known was the attention 
 to the duties of his parish. He would have liked to 
 give himself absolutely to the spiritual side of his 
 work and to the contemplation and adoration of the 
 Blessed Sacrament. The petty and even sordid de- 
 tails of the work of a parish priest were very 
 grievous to him, but he forced himself to attend to 
 them rigidly, and thereby, although without much 
 natural executive ability, he managed to conduct 
 things properly in his parish. His was one of those 
 happy natures which can believe any miracle of God's 
 goodness, and is without doubts and questionings. 
 There was deep sympathy in his attitude toward 
 other men, but not always clear understanding, and 
 this was what Theodora felt when he sat beside her 
 and fixed his large, clear gaze upon her. Her heart 
 sank a little. She thought it well to tell him some- 
 thing of her former life, and to her surprise and 
 great relief, she found he knew much of it. 
 
 " I was in Rome studying at the English College 
 at the time you mention," he said, " arid had some
 
 188 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 Italian friends who knew you. There was much 
 sympathy for you." 
 
 Then Theodora began to tell him of her wishes 
 and her doubts. She had an earnest, even a desper- 
 ate, desire to be married by the Roman Catholic 
 ceremonial, because that to her represented the only 
 one that was inviolable, but she was not a Roman 
 Catholic nor did she know if she could ever become 
 one. Yet she felt that singular yearning for the 
 Real Presence of God which is the secret motive of 
 many of those who become Roman Catholics. But for 
 that very reason, because of this yearning, because 
 of the desire to have the blessing of the Church upon 
 her marriage, she distrusted herself. Father Red- 
 cliffe listened gravely, but at each word she spoke 
 Theodora felt that instead of drawing nearer in 
 comprehension they grew farther apart. 
 
 "And how would your father, may I ask, receive 
 your wish to be married by the Church? " 
 
 " My father would not make the slightest objec- 
 tion. He has never gainsaid me in any respect," 
 replied Theodora. 
 
 A look of surprise, of distrust, of pity, came into 
 Father Redcliffe's eyes. Theodora saw it and felt 
 for the thousandth time how different her American 
 mind and viewpoint must ever be from that of the 
 people in the older world. She knew the impossibility 
 of making the relations between herself and her 
 father clear to Father Redcliffe, and said nothing 
 more.
 
 LIGHT! MORE LIGHT! 189 
 
 " And what do you think would be Lord Fermor's 
 attitude in respect to the ceremony, if you should 
 by that time have made up your mind to unite your- 
 self with the Church? " 
 
 " I don't think," replied Theodora after a moment, 
 " that Lord Fermor would, or in fact could, object 
 a bridegroom could scarcely object " 
 
 Theodora paused with a faint smile. How could 
 she ever make this gentle, handsome, seventeenth- 
 century young priest understand that obligation on 
 the part of a man to submit his wishes so absolutely 
 to the woman? Clearly Father Redcliffe did not 
 understand it at all. 
 
 Then Theodora falteringly touched upon some of 
 her questionings. Father Redcliffe answered her 
 readily enough out of books, but the mind which has 
 never had a doubt is never at one with the mind that 
 has wrestled with doubt from the beginning. 
 
 After half an hour's talk Theodora rose to go. 
 Nothing could have been kinder, nor could there 
 have been a more Christlike courtesy than the young 
 priest showed Theodora as he went with her to the 
 door, and asked her to come again. But Theodora 
 had the inward consciousness that not only she had 
 not made herself understood, but that she could 
 never make herself understood by this gentle, suave, 
 young priest, who lived upon a crust that he might 
 give to the poor, and who rose from his bed at mid- 
 night to cast himself in an ecstasy of prayer before 
 the Crucifix.
 
 100 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 Going back through the rainy twilight, Theo- 
 dora with a sense of failure asked herself to whom 
 she could turn for counsel. The thought suddenly 
 occurred to her that Ashburton was the person. At 
 first she thought she would write to him, and then 
 determined to wait until his next visit, which would 
 be before very long. 
 
 When she reached home, she went direct to the 
 small room which "Was her father's study. There, to 
 her pleasure, she found Ashburton. No two men 
 ever liked better to be together than Ashburton and 
 Seymour. When Theodora entered, Seymour first 
 had satisfied himself that she had not caught cold 
 in the rain, and then continued the conversation, 
 holding Theodora's hand as she leaned smilingly 
 over his chair. He was trying to convince Ashburton 
 that a sum of money could be distributed advanta- 
 geously to lately released prisoners, by a society 
 formed for their benefit. Ashburton strongly con- 
 troverted him, and finally flatly accused Seymour of 
 being a perverter of morals by his readiness to be- 
 stow money without sufficient consideration as to 
 whether it would do good or harm. Seymour did 
 not accept with his usual modest acquiescence Ash- 
 burton's charge, but with more warmth than Theo- 
 dora had often seen him show, he urged that recently 
 released prisoners should have money in order to 
 keep them from returning to their old temptations. 
 He spoke so strongly that not only Ashburton, but 
 Theodora was surprised, and ended by declaring his
 
 LIGHT! MORE LIGHT! 191 
 
 intention to send a cheque to the society that very 
 evening. Then he added, with a smile, to Ashbur- 
 ton: 
 
 " This is the first time I have gone against your 
 advice since we met at the bedside of the Barotti 
 boy." 
 
 " You are like all other men," said Ashburton, as- 
 suming the Englishman's attitude, with his back to 
 the fire. " You are never tired of praising my prac- 
 tical methods until they come into collision with your 
 OAvn notions. Nobody can coerce you but Madame 
 Fontarini, and she ought to do it." 
 
 " Never ! " cried Theodora. " Papa shall have his 
 own way in everything as long as I can give it to 
 him." 
 
 Ashburton had come for the night, and after a 
 pleasant dinner, Seymour left him with Theodora 
 in her little sitting-room that gave upon the ter- 
 race. Seymour announced that he was going to his 
 study to send off his cheque. As he went out of the 
 room, Ashburton said to him : 
 
 " Don't make it twice what you originally meant 
 it to be." 
 
 And Theodora cried: 
 
 " Make it anything you like. Don't pay any at- 
 tention to this bad man." 
 
 The evening had grown chilly and a fire sparkled 
 on the hearth. The soft light of the lamp fell upon 
 Theodora's silky black hair, and her clinging white 
 gown. Ashburton felt as Fennor did, that strange
 
 193 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 and indefinable interest in a woman who had passed 
 through deep waters, who had looked into gulfs of 
 shame and wickedness, and who had endured storms 
 of misery and humiliation, whose emotions had been 
 rent and racked more in her first youth than most 
 women in a lifetime, but who in other ways was in- 
 nocent, even childlike, and unsophisticated beyond 
 words. He doubted if all of Madame Fontarini's 
 sorrowful experiences had really taught her much 
 knowledge of the world. 
 
 Suddenly Theodora began to tell of her visit of 
 that afternoon and its fruitlessness, and before she 
 knew it, the whole story of her doubts, her wishes, 
 her longings, was poured forth to Ashburton. There 
 was no doubt of his perfect understanding, as well as 
 his sympathy. He saw in Theodora a natural will- 
 ingness to do what is right, a willingness so natural 
 that her aspirations were for a higher spiritual life. 
 She explained to him the two things which she craved 
 in the Roman Catholic church ; the sacramental mar- 
 riage and the Real Presence. Theodora had the art 
 of explaining with vividness the subtleties of her 
 mind, and also, as the case often is with women, she 
 was more logical than reasonable. She evidently had 
 no suspicion that Lord Fermor would attempt to in- 
 terfere with her views on marriage, and when Ash- 
 burton gently suggested it, Theodora looked genu- 
 inely surprised. 
 
 " I found that in Italy," she said, " and could 
 no doubt find it in Spain or Russia, but I hardly
 
 LIGHT! MORE LIGHT! 193 
 
 thought of finding it in England, the land of re- 
 ligious freedom." 
 
 " No only religious toleration," replied Ashbur- 
 ton. " You remember, as Wyndham said that Sun- 
 day afternoon, that with a state church and a 
 sovereign who takes a mediseval oath on his acces- 
 sion, there can be no such thing as religious liberty. 
 I should think, however, it would be prudent for you 
 at least to consult Fermor before going farther in 
 this business." 
 
 " Consult Lord Fermor, or even my father, as to 
 what I should believe ! " cried Theodora, standing up 
 and extending her hands with a gesture of earnest- 
 ness. " We believe, not what, we wish to believe, but 
 what we must believe. My father is too just, too 
 spiritual minded himself to make the least objec- 
 tion to my seeking the truth and adopting it when I 
 think I have found it. Is it fair to Lord Fermor to 
 suppose that he is any less just than my father?" 
 
 Ashburton rose too, smiling a little at this fem- 
 inine reasoning, and yet admiring the generous rash- 
 ness of Theodora's view. 
 
 " I am afraid," he said, " that I can't advise you. 
 I can only sympathise with you. I can recommend 
 you to a man in London, now a parish priest, once a 
 chaplain in my regiment. He made me a Roman 
 Catholic, not from any transcendentalism in my 
 nature, for I am only a plain soldier, but because I 
 hate what is negative and must have what is positive, 
 because I love order and discipline and see the neces-
 
 194 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 sity for direction in moral and spiritual matters. I 
 was the easiest man on earth to convert, because I 
 am accustomed to receiving orders and to giving 
 them. You, I think, will be difficult, and there are 
 vast obstacles in your way, which you evidently do 
 not realise. It is by no means the simple thing for 
 an Englishman or an Englishwoman to become a 
 Roman Catholic that it is for an American. You 
 will have to consider that Lord Fermor's political 
 future may be very much affected, even ruined, 
 by it." 
 
 "For that I should be sorry," replied Theodora, 
 " but there is no chance of it, because technically 
 there is no engagement between us until after the 
 bye-election is over. In any event, Lord Fermor will 
 have to take me as I am, or not take me at all. As 
 for Lord Castlemaine and the family connec- 
 tion " 
 
 Theodora made a little gesture indicating su- 
 preme indifference for forces of which she had heard 
 little and knew less. 
 
 " I would advise you to go up to London and see 
 Father White. He can't come down here to you 
 because he works like a cab horse, real work, you 
 understand." 
 
 " I think I shall do as you say," said Theodora. 
 
 Then they sat down and they talked intimately 
 until late. Seymour came in for a few moments to 
 say good-night to his daughter and guest, and went 
 out again. The house grew still and the dropping
 
 LIGHT! MORE LIGHT! 195 
 
 of rain on the terrace outside penetrated the silence 
 of the quiet room. 
 
 When Theodora was in her own room, she looked 
 out into the murky night, upon a world all dark 
 and melancholy, with vast black shadows and great 
 masses of pallid grey rain. But even as she looked, 
 the rain turned to mist that lay like a white robe 
 upon the earth, the clouds suddenly parted, turning 
 from black to silver, and drifted off under a westerly 
 wind, and the stars were shining steadily and 
 brightly overhead. Theodora's heart grew calm. 
 She felt a deep sense of gratitude to Ashburton. 
 His good sense, his sound practical ideas, appealed 
 to her, even his want of imagination steadied her 
 own rich and ungoverned fancy. He was like her 
 father, only far more a man of the world, and shrewd 
 where Seymour was simple. Theodora could not 
 bring herself to think that Fermor would attempt 
 to coerce her mind, and pleased herself with the 
 natural feminine idea of yielding to Fermor in all 
 things material, and having him yield to her in all 
 things moral and spiritual. 
 
 Ashburton, in his turn, looked out from his win- 
 dow upon the same scene with far different thoughts. 
 Theodora had from the beginning possessed for him 
 a singular interest. As he had never cared much 
 for the society of women and respected, rather than 
 liked them, he was surprised at the hold Theodora 
 had taken upon him. He knew nothing of a close 
 friendship with an unmarried woman, that being
 
 196 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 utterly unknown and disallowed in Europe, but after 
 that long and intimate evening with Theodora, some- 
 thing of the charm of affection that is not passion, 
 between a man and a woman, made itself clear to him. 
 Perhaps it assumed the form of a vague dream, an 
 indefined longing he began to think Fermor would 
 be a very happy man. 
 
 But the treasure of Theodora's friendship, her 
 confidence, her affection, was very great, and Ash- 
 burton felt with a deep sense of satisfaction that 
 this treasure had become his that night.
 
 A WEEK later Theodora said to her father when 
 they parted for the night: 
 
 " Papa, I am going up to London to-morrow to 
 see Father White, a Roman Catholic priest. Major 
 Ashburton advised me to see him. Perhaps I may 
 become a Roman Catholic." 
 
 Seymour received this announcement as calmly 
 as it was made, and replied: 
 
 " Whatever you become, my dear, you can never 
 be a better daughter to me than you have been." 
 
 The next morning at eight o'clock, while the mist 
 still lay over the meadows, Theodora came down 
 prepared to start for London. Her mind was far 
 from being at ease. The idea that not only her rela- 
 tions with Fermor, but his future could be affected 
 by anything she might do in a spiritual way, was 
 new and disturbing. 
 
 Theodora's interview with Father White was fixed 
 for ten o'clock, and it was striking the hour as she 
 entered the private reception-room. The door was 
 of clear glass, uncurtained, so that all that passed 
 within could be seen, but nothing could be heard. 
 Almost immediately, Father White entered. He had 
 the unmistakable air of military life, but he pro- 
 
 197
 
 198 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 duced the effect upon Theodora of being more in- 
 tellectual than Ashburton and more practical and 
 sympathetic than Father Redcliffe. Theodora told 
 him of her thoughts and wishes, of the impending 
 change in her life and the difficulties suggested by 
 Ashburton, without mentioning Lord Fermor's 
 name. 
 
 " Major Ashburton has not understated any of 
 the perplexities in your path," he answered. " But 
 there are some natures which cannot compromise 
 with truth; yours, I think, is one of them. I would 
 not advise you to enter the Church on the mere long- 
 ing of which you speak, but to read, to study, to 
 think, and, above all, to pray." 
 
 Theodora remained the whole half hour that 
 Father White had given her. When she went out 
 upon the street again, she walked along reflectively, 
 her eyes upon the ground. 
 
 In a few minutes she found herself before the open 
 door of Father White's shabby church. It was a 
 holiday and High Mass was in progress. Theodora, 
 obeying the impulse to enter the open door of any 
 church, walked in and seated herself in a dark corner. 
 The music was florid and bad, the altar and its deco- 
 rations tawdry, but a look around the small congre- 
 gation revealed why this was. The people were of the 
 shopkecping and artisan class. Many of the men had 
 an unmistakable out-of-work look. Theodora was too 
 sensitive to beauty, to magnificence, to great cere- 
 monials, not to be equally averse to what was cheap
 
 THE SOUL AND THE HEART 199 
 
 and unlovely, and the outward aspect struck her 
 disagreeably. Nevertheless, she could not escape 
 from the same feeling which had haunted her in the 
 majestic gloom of great cathedrals, that there was 
 a Divine Presence in the church. A few minutes 
 after she came in, Father White entered from the 
 sacristy, and ascending the little pulpit began a 
 sermon which lasted barely fifteen minutes. There 
 was in his voice an indefinable note of command, a 
 note which fascinated Theodora because it was posi- 
 tive. He spoke with the authority of an officer who 
 had received a commission, and is giving instructions 
 under it. His theme might have been called common- 
 place, but it was perfectly adapted to his congrega- 
 tion, the kind of congregation which assembles in 
 London when all who can go, are gone away. He 
 spoke to the workingmen of the Teacher, who was 
 Himself a workingman, and compared Jesus, the 
 humble artisan, the son of work and poverty, with 
 a brief public life of three years in an obscure corner 
 of the Roman Empire, with the splendid position of 
 Confucius, who received magnificent honours during 
 his lifetime ; Mahomet, the great ruler and law-giver ; 
 of Buddha, the mighty prince, and how great their 
 power had been during their lives, while the poor and 
 despised Jesus had none of the glory of this world 
 and met a malefactor's death. Yet the religion of 
 the Carpenter had marched steadily onward, ignor- 
 ing racial and geographical lines, while that of the 
 philosopher, the conqueror, the monarch, remained
 
 200 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 stationary and strictly racial and national. The idea 
 was not new to Theodora, but she was impressed by 
 the man who could deal sympathetically with the 
 rich, the learned, and the analytical, and also with 
 those whose chief concern was their weekly wage on 
 Saturday night. She began to have a glimmer of 
 the true way to approach the poor, and to realise 
 that her father's lavish giving, not only of his 
 money but of his time and strength, was not the only 
 help which the poor most needed, nor could it be 
 practised by many persons. 
 
 Theodora returned that afternoon to King's Lyn- 
 don, and after dinner, when she and her father were 
 sitting together in her own little sitting-room, she 
 told Seymour all about her visit. 
 
 "You can't go wrong if you follow Ashburton's 
 advice," remarked Seymour. 
 
 He did not mention Fermor, and it was evident 
 the idea had not occurred to him that Fermor could 
 object to anything Theodora might do. 
 
 The weeks passed with great rapidity to Theo- 
 dora. She was deeply interested in the rehabilita- 
 tion of the place which was beginning to show signs 
 of nearing completion. Barotti's weekly violin les- 
 son was a joy to Theodora. She had taken up her 
 music again with the greatest enthusiasm, and did 
 her two-hours' practice every day, or every evening. 
 The acoustics of the great ballroom were wonder- 
 fully fine, and there, in the evening while her father 
 read his newspaper in his own quarters, Theodora
 
 would go, and by the light of a single candle, which 
 made but a spark in the gloom of the vast and lofty 
 room, she would speak to her violin and make it 
 speak for her. She liked the thought that she was 
 alone in the great apartment, and that the thrilling 
 and the laughter and the wailing of the strings could 
 be heard by no ear but her own. The darkness, the 
 mysterious seclusion, inspired her as she played. 
 The appeal of music is so entirely to the emotions, 
 and so absolutely null to the intellect, that these 
 hours in the dark ballroom, with its one faint spark 
 of light, were given over to the sorrows, the few joys, 
 the fair, fresh hopes, which filled Theodora's heart. 
 Being a woman, and not a girl, she had acknowl- 
 edged to herself that her heart was more engaged 
 with Fermor than he or anyone else knew. Her 
 pride was ever armed and watchful and she was dis- 
 cerning enough to know that unasked love is one 
 of the most wearisome and annoying things on earth 
 to a man. She was fully capable of acting the part 
 to Lord Fermor of the woman who makes a mar- 
 riage of friendship and respect, a thing so common 
 in Europe that nobody ever remarks upon it. Theo- 
 dora was not without a haughty confidence in her- 
 self, and had not the least fear that Lord Fermor 
 or anyone else would find out her secret. The sweet 
 hopes and pretty dreams that sprang up in her path 
 and showed their smiling faces like the first snow- 
 drops of the spring were known only to herself. 
 Like a true woman, she thought that Fermor should
 
 202 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 be made to sue for her love, and to ask long for 
 what was already his, unknown to him. Theodora 
 could look into her mirror and see a rosy vision ; 
 she understood perfectly well the charm of beauti- 
 ful accessories, and her woman's vanity recognised 
 easily enough that she lost nothing by comparison 
 with the more florid beauty of Englishwomen. These 
 ideas, feminine and even girlish, were the more charm- 
 ing to her because she had thought that they could 
 never be her portion again. 
 
 The bye-election was to come off early in Septem- 
 ber and Fermor had his hands full until then. He 
 contrived to spend an occasional afternoon at King's 
 Lyndon, but Theodora, true to her policy of ret- 
 icence and reserve, never gave him an invitation to 
 remain the night. 
 
 He wrote her brief occasional letters, to which 
 she replied with charming grace, but these little 
 letters might just as well have been written to Lord 
 Castlemaine, so far as any personal note was con- 
 tained in them. This was new to Fermor, and some- 
 what rueful to him. It was plain that the task of 
 courtship was left entirely to himself, and that 
 where an Englishwoman would have met him half 
 way, this American woman required him to go the 
 whole distance himself. 
 
 The bye-election was extremely close, and it took 
 the official count to determine whether Fermor had 
 carried the division. He had, however, by the nar-
 
 THE SOUL AND THE HEART 203 
 
 row margin of something less than a hundred votes. 
 The election hung in the balance for forty-eight 
 hours, and in that time Fermor appeared at King's 
 Lyndon. He had arranged his visit in advance, 
 supposing that he would come either as an elected 
 or defeated candidate, but as it was, the result was 
 not positively known. It was a soft September even- 
 ing when Fermor arrived to dine and return to Lon- 
 don that night. The purple twilight was falling when 
 he arrived near seven o'clock. Theodora awaited 
 him on the terrace with her father. Seymour, who 
 easily persuaded himself that Fermor adored Theo- 
 dora, was anxious to be out of the way, but Theo- 
 dora would not hear of it. 
 
 The evening was cool for the season and the light 
 of the clear-obscure lay over the gardens now beau- 
 tiful and flourishing, the darkling waters of the 
 lake, and the misty uplands of the park. As Theo- 
 dora looked toward the beautiful gardens and trim 
 shrubberies, she thought that a like change to theirs 
 had come upon her. Out of neglect and disaster 
 beauty seemed to be once more recreated. She still 
 wore no colours, as she had never done since her 
 child's death, but instead of the severe simplicity 
 of the black gowns she had worn a year ago, she 
 now adopted those which, though still black, had a 
 filmy beauty and elaborate elegance, and that took 
 from them all suggestion of mourning. Upon her 
 delicate head was a great black hat and feathers,
 
 204. THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 that might have graced a Romney or a Gainsbor- 
 ough portrait, and her milk-white arms, bared to 
 the elbow, revealed one of her greatest beauties. 
 
 When Fermor at last appeared, Theodora saw 
 even in the twilight, that although cheerful, he was 
 pale and worn. He had worked hard, and more was 
 at stake for him than a seat in Parliament. It was 
 for him the turning point in life, the chance that he 
 had asked for ever since he had worn hair on his 
 face, the only thing for which he was fitted. The 
 uncertainty after all his labours told upon him, and 
 he felt himself in want of encouragement. It is a 
 characteristic of women that they are acutely sym- 
 pathetic with all forms of bodily suffering. Fer- 
 mor's pallor, his confession that much travelling and 
 speaking had wearied him and that his nights of 
 late had been sleepless, went to Theodora's heart 
 quicker than any other plea he could have made. 
 She smiled upon him, and for the first time in their 
 acquaintance suggested a stroll with him. Fermor, 
 pleased and surprised, walked by her side across 
 the lawns and down to the yew walk by the lake. 
 He was plainly tired and depressed, and Theodora 
 put forward some of her sweetest arts to charm him. 
 The thought occurred to Fermor, as he looked at 
 Theodora, her face uplifted to his as she talked 
 gently to him: 
 
 " What anxieties, griefs and losses has this 
 woman known ! and how little of what I feel com- 
 pares with what she has undergone ! "
 
 THE SOUL AND THE HEART 205 
 
 Still he suffered, and Theodora saw it and soothed 
 him. He remained to dinner, and left soon after- 
 wards, obviously in better spirits than when he 
 came. 
 
 That night, Theodora fell asleep with a sense of 
 triumph in her heart. She had exercised over Fer- 
 mor one of the greatest of woman's weapons the 
 power to console. 
 
 It was arranged that Fermor should wire her next 
 day the instant the result of the election was known. 
 All day Theodora waited in silent impatience for the 
 despatch which did not come. 
 
 Seymour, who was deeply interested in the elec- 
 tion, got conflicting news late in the afternoon. At 
 nine o'clock in the evening the election was still in 
 doubt. Seymour walked down to the little tele- 
 graph office in the village to find out the latest news. 
 Theodora, taking her violin, went into the great 
 dark ballroom and with a single candle resting on 
 the console before a huge mirror, began to play. 
 Never had it seemed to her that she was more palpi- 
 tating of emotion than at that hour. The night be- 
 fore, she had seen with feminine prescience that Fer- 
 mor was falling in love with her very rapidly. She 
 felt like a queen who, having been dethroned, and 
 discrowned, was returning in triumph to her king- 
 dom, once more to be crowned and enthroned. 
 
 Through her violin she could express all the ex- 
 citement, the tumult, the longing, the regret, that 
 was in her soul. Always, no matter how bright the
 
 206 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 music, with which she began playing, it ever came to 
 the plaintive and the imaginative note. In the be- 
 ginning she had dashed into one of Brahms' char- 
 acteristic compositions, full of a rich and resonant 
 rhythm, ringing with passion and riotous in colour. 
 When she finished she sat down in a great chair, 
 resting her violin in her lap, and breathing quickly 
 with a half smile upon her lips. In the midst of the 
 darkness of the vast apartment, the little gleam of 
 the candle was a mere point of light, reflected end- 
 lessly in the mirrors. Theodora's eyes, accustomed 
 to the darkness, could see the faint outline of her 
 own white figure revealed in the mirrors, and every- 
 where was that tiny gleam of light close to her face. 
 Presently, she drew her bow softly over the strings, 
 and then began an andante by Beethoven, touching 
 in its harmonies and melodies, simple in its classic 
 beauty, controlled in jits deep feeling. She had 
 thought the door of the great dark ballroom closed, 
 but a passing wind had opened it slightly and a little 
 thread of light stole in. Up to the door came Fer- 
 mor, guided by the delicate strains of the music. He 
 came in noislessly and closed the door behind him 
 without the least sound. Theodora had risen, and 
 was moving slowly across the floor as she played. It 
 reminded Fermor of the first day he had ever seen her, 
 when the strains of her violin reached him on the 
 sunny balcony. He was strongly susceptible to music, 
 and the sweet thrilling of the strings as Theodora 
 played, spoke from her soul to his. She was like the
 
 THE SOUL AND THE HEART 207 
 
 very spirit of music, as her white figure moved back 
 and forth in the dimness. The candle burning in the 
 tall silver candlestick made the darkness visible, and 
 revealed Theodora's shadowy presence in the great 
 dark mirrors upon the wall. 
 
 Theodora continued to draw her bow plaintively 
 across the strings, improvising as if she were telling 
 her own story to the violin. At last, she struck some 
 rich double notes, with an echo of hope in them, and 
 a note of rapture. 
 
 The hour, the scene, the time, the woman, would 
 have appealed to most men, and it appealed power- 
 fully to Fermor. He was so used to that stony self- 
 control which goes with English blood, that he gave 
 no outward sign of the stirring of his heart. He be- 
 came more acutely conscious of that singular un- 
 likeness of Theodora to the other women he had 
 known. Even in her violin playing she was sui gen- 
 eris. She had the most delicate arms and hands 
 Fermor had ever seen, and a slight figure, but she 
 had mastered and tamed the violin, the wildest and 
 strongest instrument in the world. 
 
 Everywhere, with this type of woman, in the 
 midst of delicacy was found unexpected strength. 
 The more Fermor saw of Theodora, the more he 
 recognised her unlikeness to any other woman he 
 had ever known. He had already paid her the com- 
 pliment of forgetting all other women. Even Flora 
 Bellenden had faded out of his mind and remained 
 only a hateful and humiliating memory.
 
 208 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 After ten minutes Theodora stopped playing, 
 ending with a beautiful little cadenza, bright and 
 sharp and sweet. Then, laying her violin down on 
 the piano, she sank into a corner of one of the long 
 sofas that lined the wall. She did not know of Fer- 
 mor's presence until he stood before her smiling in 
 the shadowy darkness and said: 
 
 " Forgive me for listening, but I love your music." 
 
 Theodora did not spring up startled, as Fermor 
 expected she would. Her mind had been so full of 
 him and she was so wrought upon by her fancies 
 that it seemed the most natural thing in the world 
 that he should appear. She held out the slim little 
 hand that had wielded the strong bow, and said with 
 smiling composure: 
 
 "I had a strange feeling as if someone were lis- 
 tening; someone who understood." 
 
 Her eyes, accustomed to the gloom of the great 
 apartment, saw something in Fermor's face that in- 
 dicated satisfaction and relief. 
 
 " You have good news," she said. 
 
 " Yes," answered Fermor, seating himself by her 
 side, " I won by a frightfully close vote." 
 
 Theodora impulsively put her hand in his with 
 what seemed to Fermor a frank friendliness. It was 
 encouraging or discouraging, according to what he 
 required of the woman whom he was to marry, but 
 Fermor retained the soft hand. Theodora had meant 
 to ask him many questions, and Fermor had much 
 to tell her, but all at once everything vanished from
 
 THE SOUL AND THE HEART 209 
 
 them except that they were alone together. From 
 Fermor came the whispered words of a lover, and 
 from Theodora, the silence of the woman who loves. 
 Fermor drew her to his strong-beating heart, and 
 Theodora's sweet surrender told him all he wished to 
 know. 
 
 They knew not how long they had remained in this 
 soft dream, when a breeze from an open window sud- 
 denly blew the door of the ballroom wide open and 
 extinguished the single candle. Fermor, holding 
 Theodora's hand in his, led her straight to the door 
 in spite of the darkness. 
 
 " I always loved this room when I was a little 
 chap," he said. " I can remember perfectly well see- 
 ing my mother dancing in this room in a ball given 
 in honour of some Royal Highnesses. I was only 
 seven years old, and I thought my mother in her 
 white satin gown, with her tiara, the most beautiful 
 creature in the world. She was not beautiful at all, 
 her pictures show that, but " 
 
 Fermor stopped speaking. They had then 
 reached the door, and Theodora said: 
 
 " Since the room is so associated with your 
 mother, don't you think it would be well after this 
 time next year, we'll say, that you should have a 
 good copy made of your mother's portrait in her 
 court dress and hang it in the ballroom? " 
 
 It was the first time that anyone except Fer- 
 mor had suggested that the smallest honour was due 
 to the late Lady Castlemaine, who, like many other
 
 210 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 mediocre women, had made a brilliant and miserable 
 marriage. Nothing Theodora could have said would 
 have been more deeply gratifying to Fermor. 
 
 " I should like it above all things," said he, as 
 they walked through the hall and across to the draw- 
 ing-room. " The memory of my mother is dear to 
 me, and if she had lived I would have tried to make 
 up to her for some of the sorrows she suffered. A 
 woman may be a countess and entertain Royal 
 Highnesses, and at the same time be very badly used 
 in .many ways." 
 
 In a moment more Seymour entered the drawing- 
 room, and there was much hearty congratulation. 
 
 Theodora rang for Reyburn, and when she came 
 in the room, Fermor told her the great news of his 
 election, saying that if her husband had been 
 against him it would probably have defeated him, 
 so narrow was the margin of votes. Reyburn's face 
 softened, as it always did when she looked upon Fer- 
 mor, and she said: 
 
 " My husband doesn't oppose the gentry because 
 they are gentry, but because they think that coals 
 and blankets at Christmas time is all poor people 
 want." 
 
 When she had gone out, Seymour pressed Fer- 
 mor to remain the night, but he felt obliged to de- 
 cline. 
 
 " I am due at Longstaffe to-night and only came 
 over to let Madame Fontarini know the good news,
 
 THE SOUL AND THE HEART 211 
 
 and that hers might be the first congratulation I 
 received." 
 
 It was the first time Fermor had ever spoken of 
 Theodora in the tone of possession, and she blushed 
 with pleasure. 
 
 Fermor remained an hour longer. Accustomed as 
 he was to the frank attitude of English fiancees, 
 Theodora's reserve was a novelty, but he concluded 
 he rather liked it, remembering the trembling of her 
 hand as he held it, and the vivid colour in her cheeks 
 and her occasionally down-cast eyes.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE COMEDY OF FATE 
 
 THE unusual has its charm for everybody, and Flora 
 Bellenden was by no means an uninteresting person 
 to Wyndham. It seemed to him that she was in 
 many respects the elemental and primitive woman 
 to a degree far greater than he had ever seen be- 
 fore, and on this primitiveness was superposed a 
 very high degree of artificiality. She expected and 
 submitted to be controlled by her husband in many 
 ways strange to the American, and never dreamed 
 of openly controverting his will, but secretly and 
 slowly she got her own way, by keeping Bellenden 
 in the dark. None was easier to deceive than Bel- 
 lenden, dull as he was and wishing to believe all his 
 wife told him. Wyndham, accustomed to the Amer- 
 ican woman's calm defiance of her husband, was in- 
 terested as a student of human nature in this English 
 relation between husband and wife, which he thought 
 had gone out with stage coaches and packet boats. 
 The singular frankness of the English mind in 
 matters of the highest import, and the equally singu- 
 lar reticence upon the merest trifles, amused and 
 puzzled him. Mrs. Bellenden had a frank contempt 
 scarcely inferior to that of Lady Susan Battle for 
 American men, and an equally frank displeasure 
 
 212
 
 THE COMEDY OF FATE 213 
 
 that so many Englishmen should desire American 
 wives. 
 
 This was sharply accentuated by what she con- 
 sidered Fermor's perfidy to herself. She expressed 
 something of this to Wyndham one afternoon in the 
 early autumn, when he called at the house in Ches- 
 ter Street. Since the late summer, she had been on 
 the Continent and had just returned to town. 
 
 " Every place I went," she complained as she 
 gave Wyndham tea in the drawing-room, " was full 
 of your countrymen and countrywomen. The Eu- 
 ropean men were all flocking around the American 
 women, and so were the American men, for that 
 matter. Englishwomen you know, don't care for 
 American men, which seems a pity, considering the 
 scarcity of men in England." 
 
 Wyndham laughed at this depreciation of Ameri- 
 can men, which is often heard in England. The sim- 
 plicity of the remark on the part of a lady who 
 was artfully, but elaborately, made up, tickled 
 him. 
 
 " The trouble is," he said gravely, " that under 
 your laws and customs, when an unmarried girl 
 meets an unmarried man she either keeps him at arm's 
 length by talking about the weather and the flower 
 show, or she tells him she can't get on with her 
 father, and hates her mother, and virtually makes 
 him an offer of marriage. American men are not 
 accustomed to this sort of thing, and don't know 
 how to take it. So we find the normal English girl
 
 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 too backward or too forward. We are accustomed, 
 you know, to a girl who treats a man like a door- 
 mat one minute, and the next minute acts as if 
 she couldn't live without him, and frankly admits 
 that marriage is a last desperate resort. It is only 
 another cataclysmal difference in attitude of mind 
 between the American and the Englishman." 
 
 " I have never seen anything bolder than an 
 American girl," replied Mrs. Bellenden tartly. " I 
 think they trap Englishmen, for, trust me, they are 
 very artful and designing." 
 
 Wyndham continued laughing. He was not sur- 
 prised at the sense of injury that rankled in Mrs. 
 Bellenden's breast. It was certainly something 
 humiliating to find women of another nation com- 
 ing over in droves to England and carrying the stub- 
 born Englishmen by storm. 
 
 " I am told," Mrs. Bellenden kept on, " that all 
 Americans are not rich, but they give themselves the 
 airs of princesses on two- and six-pence." 
 
 Wyndham realised more and more the gulf that 
 lies between points of view of the American and the 
 Englishman, a gulf more surprising because of their 
 strong superficial resemblance, and their community 
 of language, laws and literature. But Englishwomen 
 were not without their charm to Wyndham, especially 
 Jane Battle. The women of an older race and civili- 
 sation vividly presented to him the strange anomaly 
 of being really like children. When they began 
 to think and reason for themselves they cast off all
 
 THE COMEDY OF FATE 215 
 
 interdependence, so to speak, with men, and became 
 violent social agitators. When they wished for 
 social liberty they abandoned family ties and went 
 down single-handed into the arena and fought with 
 beasts. The idea of a true equality with men seemed 
 unknown to them; there was nothing between sub- 
 mission and defiance. 
 
 Wyndham wondered how a girl with the innate 
 good sense, the appealing femininity, of Jane Battle, 
 would develop in the atmosphere of affectionate in- 
 dulgence, and the unquestioning sovereignty of the 
 home which an American man gives his wife. For 
 Wyndham was very much in love with Jane Battle. 
 It did not, however, prevent him from finding Mrs. 
 Bellenden an interesting study, if not a winning 
 personality. She had for him the interest of the un- 
 usual, just as the American woman has the same 
 charm for Englishmen. Mrs. Bellenden's views of 
 things were sure to be totally different from what 
 Wyndham had been accustomed to hear from 
 women. 
 
 "I understand," said Mrs. Bellenden, giving 
 Wyndham his second cup of tea, " that Jack Thorny- 
 croft is perfectly devoted to your sister. See that 
 he doesn't play fast and loose with her." 
 
 At that Wyndham put his cup of tea down, and 
 lay back in his chair, convulsed with his peculiar 
 silent laughter. The idea of any man playing fast 
 and loose with the tall and beautiful and entirely 
 competent Dot, was delightfully amusing to him.
 
 216 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 Mrs. Bellenden thought that Wyndham's putting 
 his cup down meant that his tea was not right, and 
 she said in a complaining voice: 
 
 " Really, I haven't had tea properly served since 
 the new Butler came." 
 
 "Why don't you discharge him?" asked Wynd- 
 ham, regaining his gravity. 
 
 " Because Mr. Bellenden engaged him, of course," 
 replied Mrs. Bellenden with some surprise. 
 
 Wyndham took out his notebook and carefully 
 wrote : 
 
 " In England the gentleman of the house engages 
 the butler, and discharges him, I presume?" 
 
 " Certainly," replied Mrs. Bellenden. 
 
 " I shouldn't like to stand in the shoes of an Amer- 
 ican husband who took the liberty of engaging a 
 butler," replied Wyndham. 
 
 "Who, then, in America engages the butler?" 
 asked Mrs. Bellenden, wonderingly. 
 
 " The mistress of the house. The head of the 
 house, or rather the figurehead of the house, doesn't 
 see the butler until he is already engaged in his 
 duties." 
 
 " I shouldn't like the responsibility," replied Mrs. 
 Bellenden positively. 
 
 Wyndham said no more, seeing that the whole 
 question involved endless complications with an im- 
 possibility of understanding on both sides. 
 
 Flora Bellenden, however, had her secret griev- 
 ance against Americans, and asked Wyndham if he
 
 THE COMEDY OF FATE 217 
 
 had seen anything lately of Mr. Seymour and his 
 daughter, Madame Fontarini. 
 
 " Not since I visited them in the summer," re- 
 plied Wyndham. " My sister, however, has been 
 down and spent some days at King's Lyndon." 
 
 Then he proceeded to describe the beauties and 
 glories of the rehabilitated King's Lyndon, and 
 spoke with enthusiasm of Madame Fontarini's grace 
 and charm, which were enhanced by the splendour 
 of her environment. 
 
 Nothing Wyndham could have said would have 
 disquieted and angered Mrs. Bellenden more than 
 this. ., 
 
 " Do you let your sister go off and visit people 
 like that without knowing anything about them? " 
 she asked. 
 
 Her eyes were certainly very handsome and could 
 convey those elemental passions by which she was 
 ruled. In them Wyndham saw clearly hatred of 
 Seymour and Madame Fontarini. 
 
 " They know as much about us as we know about 
 them," he answered. " We judge for ourselves. 
 Most people, especially men, find Madame Fontarini 
 charming. So do I. But Mr. Seymour has a 
 peculiar interest for me. He is a long way off from a 
 fool, and yet has a very singular simplicity. Still 
 when one considers that although he became rich by 
 an accident, he says, he seems to manage his money 
 with great judgment, or rather with conservatism. 
 He spends liberally, but I don't think that any-
 
 218 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 body could do him, as you say in England. Bunco 
 is the word we use in America." 
 
 " Perhaps," said Mrs. Bellenden slowly, " he is 
 the escaped criminal whom you are trying to trace." 
 
 It was a chance shot, but it gave Wyndham a 
 great and sudden shock. He immediately turned 
 the conversation and would say no more about Mr. 
 Seymour and Madame Fontarini. Presently he got 
 up to go, and Mrs. Bellenden was left alone. 
 
 It has been said that no one knows what pain 
 is who has not suffered jealousy. What Wyndham 
 had told her of the beauty of King's Lyndon, was 
 like salt upon an open wound. It was she who ought 
 by rights to be mistress of that stately abode. Her 
 tall striking figure would suit those large and lofty 
 rooms much better than the insignificant little 
 American, for so Mrs. Bellenden characterised Theo- 
 dora's slight and delicate person. And Fermor 
 how insipid, how disappointing was life without the 
 excitement, nay, the very risk and danger, of that 
 affair! How ridiculous was his objection to divorce! 
 Why should her life have been spoiled on account 
 of an absurd quixotic sentiment against divorce 
 on Fermor's part ! He was no better than other 
 men, yet he professed some of the scruples of the 
 sternest moralist, the religious fanatic, where mar- 
 riage was concerned. No doubt Seymour was an 
 adventurer with a handsome daughter, for whom 
 he had secured a distinguished name, and finally 
 they had robbed her of Fermor. At that juncture,
 
 THE COMEDY OF FATE 219 
 
 Tom Bellenden came in and was met with com- 
 plaints of the butler. For in Flora Bellenden's mind 
 the great and the small were mixed inexorably, and 
 all the proportions of things had ever been hope- 
 lessly confused. 
 
 Wyndham, after leaving the Chester Street house, 
 walked as in a dream along the street in the dull 
 London atmosphere of an autumn afternoon. Not 
 once until that moment had he connected Seymour 
 with the ghastly story he was pursuing. There 
 were some points of resemblance, but others totally 
 at variance. The man in question was not married 
 at the time that Theodora must have been born ; and 
 was it possible that this mild, humbly voiced Sey- 
 mour could have struck a deadly blow to any man? 
 
 Wyndham could not bring himself to think this, 
 but the possibility once suggested to him, he de- 
 sired to get rid of it, and by way of clearing his 
 own mind concerning Seymour, went into the search 
 with redoubled zest. He wrote that day a number 
 of letters to America, and began going all over the 
 history of the case which had acquired for him an 
 extraordinary interest. 
 
 Wyndham and Dot remained the whole autumn 
 in London. Wyndham's reason was obvious ; the 
 Battles were in their great Queen's Gate house for 
 the winter. Dot was engaged in a conscientious 
 sightseeing which would have taxed the physique 
 of a prize fighter but which she accomplished with- 
 out so much as a headache, or even a footache. Cap-
 
 "220 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 tain John Thornycroft had been advanced to the fa- 
 vour of being called " Jack " by the adorable Dot, 
 who otherwise treated him with majestic indiffer- 
 ence. This was something new to this highly eligi- 
 ble heir to a baronetcy, and as attractive to him as 
 Theodora's calm ignoring of Lord Fermor's rank 
 had been to the much-chased future Earl of Castle- 
 maine. Jack Thornycroft was hopelessly and help- 
 lessly in love with Dot Wyndham, but this seemed 
 to have in it no element of novelty to that imposing 
 young person of nineteen. Neither Wyndham nor 
 Dot had been invited to call in Queen's Gate, but 
 there were many chance meetings between Wynd- 
 ham and Jane Battle. Something like a silent con- 
 spiracy to see each other as often as possible ex- 
 isted between them. When Jane took her morning 
 walk in the Park, Wyndham generally turned up, 
 and after Jane had conscientiously told this to Lady 
 Susan, she was directed to walk in another part of 
 the Park. But by some occult means Wyndham was 
 sure to find it out, and frequented the same region. 
 The Battles went to the theatre on Monday nights 
 when they went at all, and on those evenings Wynd- 
 ham made a point of looking in at all the playhouses 
 where the domestic dramas were being performed, 
 and seldom failed of having a word with Jane. 
 
 All this was most exasperating to Lady Susan, 
 who, with renewed energy, looked about her for an 
 eligible bachelor peer upon whom to bestow Jane. 
 But eligible bachelor peers are scarce and are not for
 
 THE COMEDY OF FATE 221 
 
 the Jane Battles of this world. To add to this was 
 the obvious fact that Jack Thornycroft was hope- 
 lessly in the foils of Dot Wyndham, so that Lady 
 Susan's dissatisfaction was very great. 
 
 Wyndham was still working hard upon his 
 theories concerning the man he was seeking, and the 
 further he penetrated into the maze the more 
 puzzled he was. To add to his perplexities, he found, 
 by that psychic action which makes one force in- 
 fluence another force widely remote, that another 
 newspaper besides his own was looking into the mys- 
 terious case. Wyndham was sorry that he had ever 
 heard of it.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE BATTLES OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 THE autumn at King's Lyndon was unusually mild 
 and sunny. The work in the great house progressed 
 so well that by December it was in a beautiful state of 
 restoration. The long and lofty picture gallery still 
 remained empty, and there were few works of art to 
 replace those which had been eaten and drunk, so to 
 speak, by Lord Castlemaine, but Theodora wisely de- 
 termined not to buy pictures rashly. 
 
 Beyond the general suspicion afloat in the county 
 and in London that Lord Fermor might eventually 
 come once more into possession of his own through 
 Seymour's millions, nothing was known of any mar- 
 riage engagement with Madame Fontarini. The 
 meeting of Parliament in October kept Fermor busy, 
 and it was arranged between Theodora and himself 
 that his visits to King's Lyndon would take place 
 when no one else was there. Fermor had no fancy for 
 letting the world know that he was in a state of sus- 
 pension, and probation, as it were, and Theodora 
 had an equal aversion to public speculation upon her 
 affairs. It was settled, however, that the engage- 
 ment should be announced the first of the year and 
 the marriage take place the middle of January, very 
 quietly.
 
 BATTLES OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 Theodora made several visits to London, and 
 each time she saw Father White. The state of 
 uncertainty in her mind was very great, and when 
 she tried to speak with Fermor about it, he said 
 smiling : 
 
 " I was brought up to believe that it was very un- 
 English to speculate upon religion, and that people 
 in good society ought not to study the Thirty-nine 
 Articles, but simply accept them." 
 
 They were walking together up and down the long 
 terrace in the sombre, still autumn afternoon, as they 
 talked. 
 
 "But have you not in your reading, especially 
 when you were at Oxford, become interested in what 
 one may call the philosophy of religion ? " asked 
 Theodora. 
 
 " No," answered Fermor. " My mind is not of 
 that cast. It is, I think, purely economic and gov- 
 ernmental. I have been all my life studying how 
 things could be improved by legislation, and that has 
 not left much room for anything else. When I was 
 a Guardsman I spent my leisure in studying Erskine 
 Mayo." 
 
 "Who is Erskine Mayo? " 
 
 " Oh, he's a fellow who wrote a lot about parlia- 
 mentary usage. I shall find Erskine Mayo's book 
 very convenient now." 
 
 " But have you no thoughts or aspirations beyond 
 this world?" persisted Theodora, looking at Fer- 
 mor with wondering eyes.
 
 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Don't you feel the want of help and enlighten- 
 ment? " 
 
 " Very much up to a certain point that is to 
 say, when I began to think that you would marry 
 me. But although I have been until now an idler, I 
 know myself to be by nature a man of action. When 
 I live decently and try to be a gentleman in soul as 
 well as in manners, I feel at ease in mind. I leave the 
 rest to the God who made me. That is my creed. 
 Not at all a speculative one, as you will see, but 
 plain and practical." 
 
 Theodora looked down, and sighed. Would he 
 ever be in sympathy with her on those points, or 
 would she, after her marriage, still be compelled to 
 turn to Ashburton and Father White for an under- 
 standing of her soul? 
 
 " There is one point, however," she said after a 
 pause, " upon which I should like very much to 
 know your feelings. It is the sacramental idea of 
 marriage. In my former marriage, I was the most 
 disappointed and wretched of women and felt my- 
 self degraded by being the wife of a man like Pietro 
 Fontarini. But the idea of dissolving the marriage 
 never occurred to me, and I assure you I could have 
 died with less fear and reluctance than have been 
 divorced and remarried. Sometimes persons, mean- 
 ing to be kind, suggested a divorce to me, and that 
 I might know new happiness in another marriage, 
 but I felt myself so insulted by the idea that I never
 
 BATTLES OF THE SPIRIT 225 
 
 even retained those mistaken friends as friends after- 
 ward." 
 
 " In this," answered Fermor promptly, " we are 
 entirely of the same opinion. I can't say that I have 
 the sacramental idea of marriage that you have, but 
 it seems to me to be a contract of such infinite deli- 
 cacy, of such stupendous importance, that as a mere 
 civil contract, it must be maintained at all cost. I 
 have been called dogmatic and fanatical in discussing 
 this matter, and perhaps I am, but I have no fancy 
 for the experimental marriage." 
 
 There was no doubt of Fermor's entire sympathy 
 with Theodora on that point. Both had that genius 
 for constancy which often takes the place of law, 
 and by a singular coincidence each had cherished a 
 high ideal of marriage under a strain fiercer than 
 that which causes many men and women to break 
 away from a miserable marriage. 
 
 While Fermor was speaking, the hateful memory 
 of Flora Bellenden rose to his mind. But as Theo- 
 dora's link with the man she hated was to her in- 
 dissoluble, so to Fermor, even in his first impetuous 
 passion, when Mrs. Bellenden was to him an aber- 
 ration and an evil charm, the thought of conferring 
 upon her the name of wife had never seemed possible 
 to him. He was not a casuist and he had never de- 
 nied, even to himself, his evil behaviour, but to him 
 it would have been made ten thousand times worse 
 by putting on it the name of marriage; it would 
 be like issuing false coin, or introducing a marked
 
 226 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 card. He felt the more drawn to Theodora by seeing 
 in her a sublimated ideal of marriage, but the sacra- 
 mental marriage was new to him. 
 
 After a pause, Theodora said : 
 
 "I have seen a Roman Catholic priest several 
 times lately when I have been in London, Father 
 White, Major Ashburton's friend. Roman Catho- 
 lics alone believe marriage to be a sacrament, and 
 that makes a very strong appeal to me for the 
 Roman Catholic religion." 
 
 Fermor remained silent. They continued to walk 
 up and down the terrace. The landscape had the 
 austere beauty of the season and the lake lay bathed 
 in a coppery glow from the declining sun. Theo- 
 dora felt, with a sinking heart, that Fermor's silence 
 was the silence of displeasure. 
 
 The idea of Theodora giving her confidences to 
 another man was not pleasant to Fermor's British 
 mind, but he knew not exactly how to object, and, 
 after all, Father White was indorsed by Ashburton, 
 and that went a great way with Fermor. 
 
 Then, with a heart still disturbed, but full of cour- 
 age, Theodora said: 
 
 " I should wish the marriage between us to be per- 
 formed by the Roman Catholic form, because it is 
 sacramental." 
 
 Fermor liked this still less. If Theodora had been 
 an Englishwoman he would have expressed this dis- 
 like frankly, but his study of Theodora's character 
 had shown him so great an unlikeness to all the other
 
 BATTLES OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 women he had ever known, that he was guarded in 
 his procedure. She seemed, as in the matter of the en- 
 gagement and many other things, to reason calmly 
 upon a proposition, to take a stand, and then to tell 
 him of it, and expect his acquiescence. As her de- 
 cision always seemed to be fixed in advance, the ques- 
 tion of opposition became difficult. But for all that, 
 Fermor felt stirring within him that complaisance 
 of the man toward a woman, admired and loved. 
 
 Fermor had the reserve of a perfectly sincere man 
 in making professions of love to a woman who 
 brought with her a great fortune, and for whom he 
 felt, from the first moment he met her, profound re- 
 spect. Each was on guard, as it were, against the 
 other, to conceal the exaltation of passion. 
 
 Theodora gave a glance at Fermor, who had put 
 on the impenetrable English mask, which indicates 
 displeasure. 
 
 " Would you object to our being married b'y the 
 Roman Catholic service ? " she asked presently. 
 
 Fermor smiled, as he replied: 
 
 " You are putting me in a delicate position. It 
 is not to be supposed that a gentleman would object 
 to any method which unites him with a lady whom he 
 wishes to marry." 
 
 " That sounds very well," replied Theodora 
 calmly, " but judging by what I have seen of Eng- 
 lishmen, they have no hesitation in expressing their 
 objections and wishes, even to the ladies whom they 
 are about to marry."
 
 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 This was true, but Fermor could hardly explain 
 that an American was a very different person to 
 deal with from a woman of his own country. 
 
 Theodora, with the American nimbleness of mind, 
 saw at once what Fermor's real feelings were, and 
 proceeded to think out for herself with the rapidity 
 which always startled Fermor, what she should do. 
 The sun became a huge red disk on the edge of the 
 horizon, and a delicate grey mist was rising from 
 the brown earth, and enveloping the rolling stretches 
 of the park, the great naked trees, shivering and 
 complaining in the autumn wind, and the clumps of 
 evergreens. As Fermor watched Theodora's look of 
 concentrated reflection, he knew that when she spoke 
 something positive would have been decided, and he 
 was secretly amused at himself, knowing that he 
 would be forced to accept Theodora's theories, or 
 give her up. 
 
 After ten minutes of silence, Theodora spoke. 
 
 " I see that you don't like the idea of being mar- 
 ried by the Roman Catholic ritual, and I see the 
 delicacy of your position. Believe me, I would not 
 seem to exert the slightest influence over your will, 
 but " 
 
 Here she stopped in the walk and turned her dark 
 eyes full upon Fermor, with deep meaning and reso- 
 lution in them. 
 
 "I can't I can't give up this sacramental mar- 
 riage. I would give more than you would think pos- 
 sible, to be married in a church where I feel that
 
 BATTLES OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 Jesus Himself is present on the altar. That is im- 
 possible, but it is possible to be married here, at 
 King's Lyndon, by Father White. Every time I see 
 Father White I advance a step nearer to becoming a 
 Roman Catholic, accepting what I can, and praying 
 for light upon the rest. One thing is certain. My 
 mind, my will, my soul, are all possessed by the belief 
 in the Real Presence, and in the sacramental nature 
 of marriage, and they are two forces drawing me 
 very fast toward the Roman Catholic Church." 
 
 This was positive enough in all conscience. 
 
 Fermor took time, too, to make his reply, and then 
 said in a manner, kind, yet cold: 
 
 "Perhaps I am not a qualified person to deter- 
 mine upon those matters. It is certain that the po- 
 sition of a recruit to the Roman Catholic Church is 
 not pleasant in England. I am not thinking wholly 
 of myself in this matter, but of you, and since you 
 so frankly admit Father White's influence over you, 
 it can't surprise you that I am not entirely pleased 
 at the thought of another man having ascendency 
 over your mind an intellectual ascendency, which 
 I am afraid I can never acquire." 
 
 Every word spoken by Fermor showed Theodora 
 more and more that, near as they were in their com- 
 mon belief on the subject of marriage, there was a 
 gulf between them in their practice. She sighed a 
 little, and they resumed their quiet walk. The twi- 
 light was coming on apace, and the sun was quite 
 gone, leaving a line of blazing light on the horizon
 
 230 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 that was fast sinking in the purple shadows of the 
 evening sky. 
 
 " It might have been better," said Theodora pres- 
 ently, with a melancholy little smile, " if you had 
 chosen to marry an Englishwoman. They carry 
 the theory of submission much farther than we do. 
 There is such a tremendous amount of submission in 
 every woman that I think I could carry it to the 
 very verge of conscience. But this this is a matter 
 of conscience." 
 
 " That settles it," answered Fennor, relaxing a 
 little. " When the word conscience comes into a dis- 
 cussion, everything is ended, especially with a wo- 
 man, and a woman like you. I shall say no more. I 
 can't prevent the world from saying things, and I 
 am afraid it will make your position a little difficult 
 with my family." 
 
 " I don't see how that can be," answered Theodora 
 in a soft, cool voice. " What can they do to me ? " 
 
 " Say disagreeable things at you." 
 
 "Then I shall keep away from them and make 
 them keep away from me." 
 
 "You will find my aunt, Lady Susan Battle, 
 charging down on you in spite of everything." 
 
 " Let her try- it once," replied Theodora. 
 
 Fermor laughed a little, and said he hoped he 
 should be on hand to see the encounter, having 
 no fears that Theodora could hold her own against 
 Lady Susan. 
 
 It was then quite dark and they entered the house
 
 BATTLES OF THE SPIRIT 231 
 
 where Theodora gave Fermor and her father tea in 
 the little yellow morning room. The room was so 
 closely associated in Fermor's mind with his mother, 
 that it exercised a kind of spell upon him, making 
 him gentle. Many little things had been left in the 
 room which reminded him of the dead Lady Castle- 
 maine. Upon a small cabinet were collected some 
 quaint Dresden shepherds and shepherdesses, and 
 other small ornaments found among the debris of the 
 house. It seemed to Fermor as if it were a sort of 
 shrine to his mother's memory. 
 
 It would seem as if Theodora were trying all her 
 softest arts to reconcile Fermor to what she had de- 
 termined upon doing. Nothing could exceed the 
 graciousness of her manner toward him, and when 
 they had finished tea, she rose and, going to the cab- 
 inet, pulled out a drawer with a book of old music 
 in it. Fermor recognised the book at once, and said : 
 
 " I remember all those old-fashioned waltzes and 
 airs my mother used to play. I have not heard them 
 since I was a child." 
 
 Theodora went to the piano and, opening the book, 
 played the simple music with much sweetness and ex- 
 pression. Her piano playing in no way compared 
 with her violin playing, but was extremely pretty 
 and expressive. The spell became complete. Fermor 
 felt, as on previous occasions, that he had no power 
 of resistance against influences so sweet and appeal- 
 ing, and an artfulness which was so feminine and 
 profound.
 
 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 Fermor could not remain to dinner, but when, 
 about seven o'clock, he was going, Seymour went 
 out of the room, leaving him and Theodora to them- 
 selves. 
 
 " I hope," said Theodora, " you are not hurt or 
 offended by what I said, or what I feel obliged to 
 do, as I explained to you." 
 
 " Not in the least," replied Fermor with much sin~ 
 cerity. " I have told you what I think. That is 
 all." 
 
 "Father White has no more ascendency over me 
 than Plato may be said to have, or Pascal, or even 
 Amiel. Ami el had a great influence over me until 
 lately. I accepted his gentle despair, the feeling that 
 came over him at the end that life meant, ' To ap- 
 pear, to struggle, to disappear.' It added to my un- 
 happiness, for I believed it. Looking back over it 
 all, I don't know why I ever should have entered the 
 open door of a church. I certainly had no faith, or 
 even belief. But once I had entered, I could not keep 
 away." 
 
 Fermor replied with his usual calm courtesy. 
 
 " The chief thing is that I shall have the privilege 
 of making you my wife. All I have said has been 
 with a view to making your position pleasanter. I 
 shall say nothing more upon the mode of our mar- 
 riage, but you may command me." 
 
 Theodora knew how to repay this. They were 
 standing together before the fireplace, the sparkling 
 firelight falling on Theodora's perplexed face. She
 
 BATTLES OF THE SPIRIT 233 
 
 turned to Fermor, her eyes downcast, and slipping 
 her hand into his, leaned toward him. Their lips met 
 as lovers. Theodora's slender arm stole about Fer- 
 mor's neck in the first unsought caress she had ever 
 given him. Their souls rushed together; each felt 
 an infinite patience and tenderness for the other; all 
 was peace between them. 
 
 As Fermor rode back through the frosty evening 
 to Longstaffe he smiled grimly to himself at the man- 
 ner in which he had been defeated at every point. 
 The whole thing was altogether novel; there were 
 unexpected turns and twists, where he had supposed 
 he would travel the broad highway and dead level of 
 the commonplace. At every moment he was made to 
 feel that it was entirely optional with him to give up 
 the marriage altogether. Had Theodora been an 
 Englishwoman, he would have been held to his en- 
 gagement as strictly as a bank exacts payment of a 
 note. But in the present case, although an accepted 
 lover, he was still in the position of a suitor. Then 
 the realisation come over him of Theodora's eyes, 
 darkly soft, uplifted to his, the touch of her little 
 hand, the quickened beating of his heart as he held 
 her to him. He fell into a delicious reverie, and the 
 quick gallop of his horse along the dark highroad 
 became a slow walk. Fermor had a strong imagina- 
 tion and saw before him the sweetest vision in the 
 world a perfect marriage. 
 
 Fermor all along had felt himself sliding softly in 
 love with her and he began to wonder if that event
 
 234 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 had not already happened. He wondered whether 
 Theodora were at all in love with him. 
 
 As he dismounted in front of his own door 
 and walked into the large, cold, dimly lighted man- 
 sion, the picture of Theodora in his mother's little 
 yellow room and the echo of the music seemed very 
 attractive to him. He felt no aversion to the idea 
 of being married which is a rare thing with an 
 Englishman with a courtesy title. He had almost 
 forgotten the existence of Flora Bellenden.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE DARKNESS AND THE LIGHT 
 
 BUT Flora Bellenden had by no means forgotten 
 Lord Fermor. Envy and ennui, two deadly foes to a 
 woman's peace, haunted her. She had relished the fact 
 that for years she stood, like a lioness in the path, 
 between ambitious mothers and daughters, and Fer- 
 mor's prospective coronet; and then had come this 
 insignificant American, for so Mrs. Bellenden charac- 
 terised Theodora Fontarini ; and all was over. She 
 grasped eagerly at the idea that something was 
 wrong about Seymour, and was convinced, without 
 investigation, that not only he, but his money, was 
 tainted with villainy. Tom Bellenden, the most 
 patient of men, found his domestic hearth a very 
 unpleasant place in those autumn days. 
 
 One afternoon, late in December, Wyndham was 
 passing Mrs. Bellenden's door just as she alighted 
 from her brougham. She was looking very hand- 
 some in her large, artificial way, with her velvet and 
 furs, and Wyndham, who was no more proof than 
 any other man against a good-looking woman, ac- 
 cepted her peremptory invitation to come in and 
 have tea with her. 
 
 When they reached the drawing-room, and Mrs. 
 Bellenden threw aside her satin cloak, Wyndham 
 
 235
 
 noticed a diamond pendant sparkling upon her 
 breast. But he soon forgot it in the interesting pro- 
 gramme of tea. Mrs. Bellenden at once began upon 
 a subject which was plainly distasteful to Wyndham 
 the questions as to whether Seymour were the man 
 for whom the authorities and some amateurs had been 
 hunting for twenty years. Wyndham parried Mrs. 
 Bellenden very ably, but he could not get her off 
 the subject. It shortened his visit, and when he rose, 
 Mrs. Bellenden was still plaguing him on the sub- 
 ject. 
 
 " Really," he said coolly, " I can't discuss this 
 matter any further. My sister and I have received 
 much kindness from Mr. Seymour and Madame Fon- 
 tarini, and it would be an infamy for me to question 
 Mr. Seymour's former life in any way." 
 
 As Wyndham stood looking at Mrs. Bellenden, 
 she put her hand to her throat and her face grew 
 pale. 
 
 " My pendant," she said, " it is lost." 
 
 " No, it is not," replied Wyndham, " I noticed 
 you had it on when you threw off your cloak. It has 
 merely dropped on the floor." 
 
 At that moment Tom Bellenden came in from the 
 further room and shook hands with Wyndham, whom 
 he sincerely liked. Mrs. Bellenden's pallor and 
 trembling was obvious to even honest, dull Tom 
 Bellenden, for she loved her diamonds as mothers 
 love their children. She went out of the room quickly 
 and began searching carefully, the. carpeted stairs.
 
 DARKNESS AND LIGHT 237 
 
 " Mrs. Bellenden has dropped her diamond pendant 
 somewhere in the house," explained Wyndham, be- 
 ginning to examine about the room. 
 
 Tom Bellenden joined in the search, ringing the 
 bell meanwhile for the footman. Outside the door 
 they heard the man coming up the stairs and Mrs. 
 Bellenden accosting him. 
 
 " You are not wanted," she said, " the bell was 
 rung by mistake." 
 
 The man went away and Bellenden came out on 
 the landing and said to his wife : 
 
 " I rang the bell for James to help look for your 
 pendant." 
 
 " It is better not to tell the servants it is lost 
 until we have looked for it," she said. She was 
 trembling and even weeping, and Bellenden, putting 
 his hand kindly on her arm, said : 
 
 " Don't fret yourself so about it ; after all it was 
 only paste and I can afford to give you another." 
 
 At this, Mrs. Bellenden made an effort to recover 
 herself. 
 
 " Yes," she said, " it was only paste, but I liked 
 it." 
 
 She continued to search nervously upstairs and 
 down for the trinket, and was assisted by her hus- 
 band and Wyndham. But the pendant could not be 
 found. Her nervousness and agitation could not be 
 concealed, and increased every moment. Wyndham 
 having helped all he could in the unavailing hunt, 
 took his leave, assuring Mrs. Bellenden that the
 
 238 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 ornament must eventually be found in the drawing- 
 room. 
 
 Bellenden tried to persuade his wife to give over 
 the search or to let the servants assist, but she ob- 
 stinately refused. She walked about the drawing- 
 room, now lighted up, and shook the curtains, and 
 moved sofa pillows and looked again and again in 
 the same spot as if unable to persuade herself that 
 the trinket was gone. Bellenden, standing on the 
 hearth rug, watched her, a faint suspicion dawning 
 upon his dull mind. Mrs. Bellenden left the room 
 and began again the fourth or fifth search of the 
 stairs. Half a minute after she went out, Bellenden, 
 glancing downward, saw under the cover of the tea 
 tray, the pendant, where it had dropped from his 
 wife's throat, and had slipped under the tray cover. 
 He took the trinket to the light to examine it, re- 
 calling his wife's having shown it to him on the day 
 of Fermor's last visit. She had said that it cost but 
 ten pounds, and he had rather disapproved of it as 
 being too glittering a sham. Now as he turned it 
 over in his hand, it occurred to him that it was not a 
 sham, but a splendid and costly ornament. He put 
 it quietly in his pocket and going out in the street 
 called a cab and drove to one of the big jewelry 
 shops in Bond Street. Going in, he asked to see the 
 manager. The man appeared, and Bellenden inquired 
 of him the probable value of the ornament. 
 
 The manager, turning it over in his hand, smiled 
 and shook his head.
 
 DARKNESS AND LIGHT 239 
 
 " It is a doubtful business appraising diamonds 
 off-hand, but I sold a pendant of very much the same 
 style as this, with the same number of stones and 
 none larger, for four hundred pounds, and considered 
 it cheap." 
 
 " Thank you," said Bellenden, going out. 
 
 When he reached home it was near dinner time. He 
 went straight to his wife's room and knocked, and 
 receiving no answer, entered. 
 
 She was huddled, still in her street dress, upon a 
 sofa, and was weeping violently. The barbaric love 
 of splendour which was very marked in her, revealed 
 itself with great intensity in the loss of the jewels; 
 she lamented them as a woman laments a lost child. 
 When her husband came up to her and she saw the 
 glittering thing in his hand, the joy of recovering 
 it overcame both her prudence and her fear. She 
 uttered a little cry and held out her hand to seize the 
 trinket, but Bellenden held on to it. His stolid, 
 usually good-natured face wore an expression she 
 had never seen before an expression of rage and 
 menace. He held the ornament in his hand and said 
 to her slowly : 
 
 " I understand it all. You lied to me when you 
 said it was paste." 
 
 There had always been in Flora Bellenden's mind 
 a latent fear of this easy-going, indulgent husband. 
 She felt it now so much that it kept her silent, while 
 her face grew pale under her rouge. Bellenden 
 seized her arm in a grip unconsciously hard, raised
 
 ,240 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 her to her feet and led her to a writing-desk in the 
 room. 
 
 " Put this thing up and address it in your own 
 handwriting to Lord Fermor immediately." 
 
 The thought of giving up the diamonds was 
 heart-breaking to this woman who loved them so 
 passionately. But she knew it was useless to make 
 any protest. With trembling hands, she put the 
 pendant in a box, tied, sealed and addressed it under 
 the compulsion of her husband's eye. Then he said: 
 
 " Put on your hat and come with me." 
 
 Usually Mrs. Bellenden was extremely fluent, but 
 not to-night. A new force represented by the sup- 
 posed fury in Bellenden's eyes, his stern grip of her 
 arm, had come into her life. She put on a hat, threw 
 a cloak around her, and went downstairs and out in 
 the street with her husband, who carried the little 
 parcel in his hand. She walked with him a few 
 squares until they came to a dingy little postoffice. 
 Rage was in her heart against both her husband and 
 Fermor, but most against her husband. It seemed as 
 if the last ignominy was offered her in making her 
 come like a servant to do an errand. 
 
 But she dare not protest. She stood by the little 
 barred window while a pale and wearied clerk took 
 the parcel and handed the postoffice receipt to Bel- 
 lenden, who put it in his pocket. Then the husband 
 and wife, hating each other, walked back through the 
 night to the Chester Street house. Bellenden, whose 
 ideas were few, and whose words were fewer, said not
 
 DARKNESS AND LIGHT 
 
 one word. He could not have expressed to save his 
 life, a tithe of the emotions that agitated his silent 
 and sombre nature. 
 
 Once in the house, Mrs. Bellenden, with silent fury 
 in her face, excused herself from dinner and went to 
 her room. Bellenden said he would go to his club 
 for dinner. Instead, he walked through the gloomy 
 night toward the Thames embankment. He found 
 himself leaning over the parapet, looking at the 
 black and turbid water upon which the electric light 
 glared fiercely. He gazed at it so long and so 
 moodily that a policeman close by came nearer and 
 kept a watchful eye upon him. 
 
 Bellenden turned and saw the guardian of the 
 peace, who radiated suspicion in every glance and 
 attitude. By an effort, Bellenden pulled himself to- 
 gether, and stepping into a cab, was driven to his 
 club. He could not recall to save his life, whether 
 he had dined or not a thing least likely of all for 
 Tom Bellenden to forget. 
 
 In the Chester Street house, Mrs. Bellenden, in a 
 frenzy, walked up and down in her room. It was 
 small, and she felt caged in it and went into the 
 dimly lighted drawing-room. The house was not 
 well ordered, and the room still bore evidences of 
 having been thoroughly ransacked. Involuntarily, 
 Mrs. Bellenden moved a chair in place, and then, it 
 was her turn to find something a small newspaper 
 rolled into a wad. It was an American newspaper, 
 and as such, of no interest to Mrs. Bellenden ; but as
 
 she was about to throw it in the fire, her eye caught 
 a marked column. She read it, and re-read it, her 
 face changing from sullen agitation to an expression 
 of triumph. 
 
 Ten minutes later, she rang for a cab, and drove 
 to a different postoffice from the one to which she 
 had been dragged by her husband. He had taught 
 her, however, how to insure the delivery of a valu- 
 able package. In her hand she carried a little par- 
 cel, addressed to Lord Castlemaine, at Monte Carlo, 
 which she registered as coming from A. N. Wynd- 
 ham, who might be man, woman or devil, as far as 
 the postoffice clerk knew. She herself dropped the 
 newspaper in the postoffice box and returned home 
 with a sense of victory. At least she was not the 
 only one to be humiliated, angered and degraded. 
 
 Wyndham went back to his hotel, where he dined 
 with his sister, and the two went to the play. After 
 bringing Dot back to the hotel, Wyndham dropped 
 in at his club. Only then did he miss his newspaper. 
 He was deeply chagrined and even alarmed at its 
 loss. He made such efforts as he could to recover it, 
 feeling the hopelessness of it, and sent early next 
 morning to Chester Street to ask if he had left the 
 newspaper there. In reply, he got a note from Mrs. 
 Bellenden, saying no one in the house had seen it. A 
 conviction instantly developed in Wyndham's mind 
 that Mrs. Bellenden had the newspaper. In anger, 
 he determined not to go to Chester Street again. 
 
 Next morning, Fermor received a parcel, with
 
 DARKNESS AND LIGHT 243 
 
 other letters and parcels. The first letter he opened 
 was one in Theodora's delicate but firm handwriting. 
 In it, she wrote him briefly that she found herself 
 impelled to unite with the Roman Catholic com- 
 munion. She had her father's approval, but, as a 
 matter of fact, it was with her so entirely a ques- 
 tion of the soul, that she had not asked her father's 
 consent. She hoped she had Fermor's approval. If 
 the step she was about to take seriously displeased 
 him, she would regret his displeasure, and give 
 him his freedom. But if he did not disapprove of it, 
 and their marriage took place, she would endeavour 
 to act so that he would never have cause to regret 
 his kind compliance. She was to be received into the 
 Roman Catholic Church the next morning at Hill- 
 borough by Father Redcliffe. 
 
 Fermor reflected over this letter, and smiled at 
 the ever-available proposition to give him up a 
 proposition a trifle more novel to the heir of an earl- 
 dom than, as in Jack Thornycroft's case, to one 
 who was only heir to a baronetcy. Apparently, the 
 possibility that Theodora might, by her act, injure 
 Fermor's political career, had not been taken se- 
 riously by her. Fermor, however, knew perfectly well 
 that she had dealt him a hard blow, so far as his 
 political prospects went. Nevertheless, he wrote im- 
 mediately to her, before opening his other letters, a 
 note of graceful and tender acquiescence. It was 
 more nearly a love letter than he had yet written 
 her.
 
 244 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 Then he recognised on the parcel Flora Bellen- 
 den's hated handwriting. He was almost as cha- 
 grined at getting the diamonds back as Mrs. Bellen- 
 den was at giving them up. The pendant was worth 
 all of the four hundred pounds he had paid for it, 
 and for which he had cramped himself. It was, of 
 course, out of the question that he should give it to 
 Theodora, and he disliked the idea of selling it. At 
 last he thought of Ashburton, who gave liberally of 
 his own money to charity, and could no doubt find 
 use for more in the same cause. Fermor went up to 
 London and saw Ashburton at his lodgings, and 
 made a clean breast, handing, or rather throwing, 
 the ornament down on Ashburton's table, saying: 
 
 " Here, take the damned, infernal thing, and sell 
 it, and do what you please with the money." 
 
 Ashburton smiled his quiet smile. 
 
 " Yes," he replied, " the thing is both damned 
 and infernal. However, I can give Barotti's boy the 
 benefit of it by sending him to Italy. The lad has 
 not been strong since he had scarlet fever, and it 
 will do him a world of good. Besides, there are sev- 
 eral other useful things which can be done with the 
 money four hundred pounds is a considerable sum 
 to give, either to God or the devil." 
 
 Then Fermor mentioned Theodora's brief letter, 
 announcing what she had by that time already done. 
 
 " O/ course you are pleased," said Fermor, smiling 
 rather ruefully. 
 
 " Yes," replied Ashburton, " it is a good thing for
 
 DARKNESS AND LIGHT 245 
 
 yon morally, but I am afraid a bad thing for you 
 politically. However, all depends upon the relative 
 value you put on morals and politics." 
 
 " I daresay you think me a confounded hypocrite, 
 but no Roman Catholic has more radical views, or 
 rather adamantine prejudices, than I have on the 
 subject of marriage. I would not marry any woman 
 who contemplated the possibility of divorce. Madame 
 Fontarini's feelings on that point are perfectly ac- 
 ceptable to me. So, as far as I am concerned, the 
 marriage wfll take place on the fifth of February, as 
 arranged. No announcement win be made until the 
 middle of January, but I have written the date to 
 my father, so he can, if he wishes, return from the 
 Riviera in time to be present at the ceremony." 
 
 Fermor returned to Longstaffe, meditating in the 
 train upon the exact amount of political damage 
 Theodora's act would do him. But the thought of 
 that sweet twilight hour in Theodora's sitting-room, 
 the reserved yet poignant passion of her delicate 
 caress, banished all regrets, all contrary wishes. He 
 could even laugh silently in contemplation of Lord 
 Castlemaine's disgust and Lady Susan Battle's 
 alarm at the notion of the future Lady Fermor being 
 a Roman Catholic. 
 
 As for Lord Castlemaine, he was at that moment 
 enjoying Monte Carlo as a robust and intelligent 
 pagan naturally would. It was bis intention, origi- 
 nally, to return to England in time for Lord For- 
 mer's wedding. But the dinners at Monte Carlo
 
 246 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 had been too good. Lord Castlemaine, for the first 
 time in his life, felt that he had a pair of legs vulner- 
 able to gout. With his usual prompt decision, he 
 left Monte Carlo, and much to the disgust of his 
 valet, went to a little place not far from Grenoble, 
 where the air was good, the diet simple, and every- 
 body went to bed at ten o'clock. He took with him 
 an immense mass of books, and amused himself with 
 the prospect of heckling his friends in the Govern- 
 ment on the Education Bill, as soon as he returned 
 to London. Being an intellectual debauchee, he gave 
 himself over, in his quiet lodging in the little hotel, 
 to the study of his subject, and took deep drafts of 
 Junius, of Macaulay, of Corbett, of Disraeli, of Lord 
 John Russell, and of Lord Salisbury's earlier 
 speeches. He need not to borrow of any of these 
 fierce parliamentary fighters, but they always gave 
 him inspiration in pure invective. As an able and 
 accomplished scold, Lord Castlemaine was the equal 
 of any, and the superior of most of them. Hard 
 reading, however, acted on him very much like hard 
 eating and drinking, for his gout, instead of grow- 
 ing better, suddenly rose and conquered him. 
 
 Within a week of Fermor's wedding, Lord Castle- 
 maine's legs were propped up on a chair, and it looked 
 as if it might be four weeks instead of four days be- 
 fore he could start for England. Nevertheless, he 
 ordered preparations made for his leaving, going by 
 way of Paris. 
 
 One morning exactly seven days before the wed-
 
 DARKNESS AND LIGHT 247 
 
 ding day of Lord Fermor and Theodora, Lord Cas- 
 tlemaine received among a pile of letters and papers, 
 one addressed to him in what was obviously a 
 feigned handwriting. On it were many postmarks 
 and signs of delay, showing it to have gone back to 
 London and to have returned to Monte Carlo. It 
 was the last to be opened, and it contained a marked 
 newspaper article. Lord Castlemaine's valet, who 
 was in the room, heard a suppressed exclamation, 
 and looked toward his master. Lord Castlemaine's 
 purple face had changed into a yellowish pallor. He 
 made a motion with his hand indicating the valet 
 should withdraw, which he promptly proceeded to do. 
 Left alone, Lord Castlemaine collected his faculties 
 with that amazing quickness which made him a ter- 
 ror to both his friends and his enemies. He read the 
 newspaper article a long one over half a dozen 
 times. Then he put together many circumstances, 
 some large and some very minute, and the conviction 
 grew in his mind that Seymour had behind him a 
 prison record. Lord Castlemaine loved money as he 
 loved power and good champagne and a battle royal 
 in the House of Lords, but he was not wholly 
 ignoble. He respected the traditions of his house, 
 and was rather proud of the fact that all of his 
 family, except himself, had lived upon a high plane 
 of honour. 
 
 Fermor must certainly marry money, but Madame 
 Fontarini was not the only rich woman in the world. 
 The wedding must be stopped at any cost until Sey-
 
 248 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 mour's antecedents were investigated. Lord Castle- 
 maine was a very firm believer in atavism, and the 
 thought that he might have grandchildren with crim- 
 inal tendencies was painful and alarming to him. 
 On the table at his hand were telegraph blanks and 
 a railway guide. He wrote out rapidly a telegram 
 to Fermor and added, " Answer to Paris." 
 
 Then ringing for his man, he ordered the despatch 
 sent off at once, and directed that a compartment be 
 engaged for him in the train which left for Paris that 
 evening. The French doctor, appearing just then, 
 made a vigorous protest against the move, but Lord 
 Castlemaine swept him aside. 
 
 That evening at ten, when the night train left, 
 Lord Castlemaine was in his compartment, cursing 
 his legs, propped up on the opposite seat; but they 
 had not kept him from starting for Paris. So far 
 from being worse, he was rather the better for the 
 change, and the feeling that he would arrive in Eng- 
 land in time to delay the marriage and, if necessary, 
 prevent it, gave him an increase of his tremendous 
 energy. 
 
 At eleven o'clock he was trussed up with rugs and 
 pillows and fell into a sleep as calm as a baby's, the 
 best sleep he had known for a month. The next 
 thing he knew was a violent shock, and his valet was 
 thrown across the compartment and something at 
 the same time seemed to strike his head. Then every- 
 thing was forgotten. 
 
 When he came to himself, he was in a room in a
 
 DARKNESS AND LIGHT 249 
 
 little hotel of a town forty miles from Grenoble, 
 and close to the spot where the accident had oc- 
 curred. 
 
 As soon as he opened his eyes, he remembered 
 everything. A doctor was sitting by his bedside 
 the Grenoble doctoj* who had been sent for. 
 
 "An accident happened to the train, I presume," 
 said Lord Castlemaine. " I think I have been un- 
 conscious some little time concussion of the brain, I 
 daresay." 
 
 "Yes," answered the doctor, smiling, " but no other 
 injury whatever." 
 
 " I shall take the train to Paris to-morrow at 
 latest," said Lord Castlemaine, decisively. " I must 
 be in England before the fifth of February." 
 
 That was the date fixed for Fermor's wedding. 
 
 " To-day is the afternoon of the fifth of Feb- 
 ruary," replied the doctor. 
 
 A savage light shone in Lord Castlemaine's eyes 
 and a curse burst from his lips. He was defeated by 
 fate. The doctor, by way of pacifying him, picked 
 up an open telegram from the table and read it. It 
 ran, " Best wishes from Lord and Lady Fermor." 
 
 " There was great difficulty in communicating with 
 Lord Fermor," said the doctor encouragingly ; " he 
 seems to have had neither letters nor telegrams from 
 you, and thinks you are still at Monte Carlo. I got 
 into communication with him only last night. As 
 you had told me your son was to have been married, 
 I was very careful in what I wired him, and it is
 
 250 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 fortunate I did so, because, I think now, your recov- 
 ery will be rapid." 
 
 Lord Castlemaine lay back on his pillow, grinding 
 his teeth ; he hated defeat. 
 
 On that day, Lord Fermor and Theodora had 
 been quietly married by Father White in the draw- 
 ing-room at King's Lyndon. The company was as 
 small as might be. There was no best man, no 
 wedding cake, none of the paraphernalia of a grand 
 marriage. The guests consisted of Ashburton, Jane 
 Battle, Wyndham and the tall and lovely Dot, and 
 the Marsacs. 
 
 Lady Susan Battle had indignantly refused to be 
 present at what she considered to be nothing more 
 nor less than a Popish plot, and had no intention of 
 allowing any of the Battle girls to attend. But Jane, 
 with a new-found courage, announced that she wished 
 to go, and Fermor, on his last visit to Lady Susan 
 the day before the marriage, boldly backed up Jane, 
 and declared he would call for her that afternoon, 
 and take her down to Longstaffe, with Ashburton 
 and the Marsacs, who were to travel by the same 
 train, and would be his guests for the night. Lady 
 Susan protested, but she had always felt herself un- 
 able to resist the prospective head of the house of 
 Castlemaine. She insisted that Lord Castlemaine's 
 mysterious silence for three weeks past was due to 
 his disapproval of the Romish and Popish elements 
 in the marriage, and would scarcely believe Fermor 
 when he assured her that Lord Castlemaine's silence
 
 DARKNESS AND LIGHT 251 
 
 was nothing unusual, and he would, no doubt, send 
 a letter or even a despatch. Lady Susan was forced 
 to capitulate in the matter of letting Jane go with 
 Fermor, and the girl's bright face was one of the 
 happiest at the wedding. 
 
 Although Fermor made light to Lady Susan of 
 Lord Castlemaine's silence, it was, nevertheless, dis- 
 quieting. True, a handsome gift of emeralds had 
 come for Theodora, but that was an order given 
 a jeweller some time before when Lord Castlemaine 
 was in the first flush of pleasure over the marriage. 
 In spite of what was, from the English point of view, 
 the ignoring of Lord Fermor's rights, the amount 
 of money was so large and so immediately available, 
 that although Lord Castlemaine thought Fermor 
 might have done better, he could certainly have done 
 worse. 
 
 On her sunny wedding day, Theodora, for the first 
 time since the death of her child, wore a gown that 
 was neither black nor white, but a faint blue. She 
 looked extraordinarily girlish as she entered the 
 room on her father's arm. Seymour, like most 
 American fathers on such occasions, showed signs 
 of weeping; but there was in his manner a willing- 
 ness and even joy at what was occurring. 
 
 When the short and simple ceremony was over 
 there was a wedding breakfast, also short and simple. 
 All the guests left by the two o'clock train for Lon- 
 don. 
 
 There was no occasion for a wedding tour or for a
 
 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 loan of a friend's house. About an hour after the 
 departure of the guests the bride and bridegroom 
 took Seymour to the station. He was off for a 
 month in Scotland. 
 
 " One of the things, my dear," he said to Theo- 
 dora, " which I have always wanted to do, was to 
 explore Scotland in the winter. I couldn't do it on 
 your account, but now that you are off my hands, I 
 am a free man." 
 
 " No you are not, papa," said Theodora with the 
 note of affectionate decision which she used toward 
 her father and which Fermor had never known in an 
 English daughter, " you may stay in Scotland one 
 month exactly, then you are to come back, and mean- 
 while we shall make Barleywood ready for you. 
 Don't think you have achieved your liberty. I shall 
 see you every day, and look after you just as I al- 
 ways have done." 
 
 Then the train came thundering in to the little 
 station, and father and daughter kissed and clung 
 to each other with a depth of tenderness that Fer- 
 mor had never seen before in such a relation, and 
 with tears streaming down the cheeks of each. 
 
 Lord and Lady Fermor walked back to King's 
 Lyndon through the gathering gloom of the Febru- 
 ary afternoon. The Park was bare and brown, and 
 so quiet that the small wild creatures who dwell in 
 wooded solitudes glanced in wonder at the two fig- 
 ures strolling slowly through the dells and bypaths. 
 They were not boy and girl, but a man and a woman
 
 DARKNESS AND LIGHT 253 
 
 who knew a deeper rapture, a loftier exaltation, a 
 restrained power than first youth can ever know. 
 The wine of life is more effervescing in youth, but it 
 grows in strength and sweetness. Fermor felt, for 
 the first time in his life, a sense of complete con- 
 trolled joy. Theodora knew that all that had gone 
 before was the very dross of love and life. 
 
 They were so quiet and undemonstrative that the 
 servants, who watched them curiously, concluded it 
 was the common exchange of rank for money, and 
 that they were too indifferent to each other to quar- 
 rel. But Fermor and Theodora dwelt in the Elysian 
 Fields of the soul that day.
 
 THE CRUCIBLE 
 
 LORD FERMOR had the common superstition of 
 bachelors : that the instant he was married his wife 
 would endeavour by artful means to change all of 
 his bachelor habits, his mode of life, his friends and 
 ^everything belonging to and relating to him. But 
 he was destined to an agreeable surprise. 
 
 After a honeymoon of three weeks, he discovered 
 no effort on Theodora's part to change anything in 
 his life. He loved King's Lyndon so well that noth- 
 ing was easier or more natural to him than to fall 
 into the ways of proprietorship. He established him- 
 self once more in what had been his study, and after- 
 ward Seymour's. Reyburn attended him faithfully, 
 as when he was a little boy and afterward when he 
 returned, an Oxonian, home for the Long Vacation. 
 
 Every Englishman is supposed on some occasions 
 to utter the national dictum, " I will be master in my 
 own house." 
 
 Fermor would have found it difficult to make occa- 
 sion for saying this. Everything went according to 
 his liking, with order and smoothness, but many 
 things were done with quiet unconsciousness by Lady 
 Fermor which no English wife would have thought 
 of doing without consulting her husband. 
 
 Seymour's rooms, announced Theodora in the 
 
 254
 
 THE CRUCIBLE 25S 
 
 assured manner of an American woman who con- 
 templates no opposition, would be kept intact for 
 her father whenever he chose to visit King's Lyndon. 
 
 As there were thirty-two other bedrooms in the 
 King's Lyndon house, it was not likely that the 
 Fermors would be pressed for room, and Fermor 
 himself was secretly amused at the way in which two 
 of the most desirable rooms in his house were 
 apportioned without consulting him. The staff 
 of men servants, which in an English establishment 
 would have been absolutely under the discipline of 
 the master of the house, had been trained to report 
 to Theodora. Even the butler, a magnificent per- 
 sonage, had been made to feel in the course of his 
 year's service, that the lady of the house was a source 
 of all authority and the court of last resort. Fermor 
 had inherited the philosophic temper of Lord Cas- 
 tlemaine, and finding King's Lyndon beautifully 
 equipped and well managed, the whole machinery of 
 a large establishment moving without the slightest 
 friction, he concluded that he was well rid of many 
 cares meant to establish the mastery that an English- 
 man takes upon himself. Outdoor matters, Theo- 
 dora laid upon Fermor with an apology for so doing. 
 This apology diverted Fermor so much that he 
 laughed aloud, much to Theodora's amazement. 
 
 ** I have had to manage everything on the whole 
 place," she said ; " papa never would decide anything 
 without referring to me, and so it became easier for 
 me to manage directly; but it was a great burden
 
 256 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 and I really didn't understand it very well, and so I 
 am only too glad to be rid of it." 
 
 This was one evening three weeks after their 
 marriage when they were sitting as usual in the little 
 yellow room. They were a very matter-of-fact bride 
 and bridegroom to outward appearances. Fermor 
 was reading his newspaper and Theodora was cutting 
 the leaves of a new book. Fermor, accustomed to the 
 fortnightly box of novels from Mudie's, which con- 
 stituted the reading of most ladies in English coun- 
 try houses, was curious to note the kind of literature 
 in which his new wife indulged. She was a most 
 practical person, he discovered, in everyday affairs, 
 and at the same time was given to much speculative 
 and imaginative thought reading. While cutting 
 the leaves of her book, she was giving him some de- 
 tails with regard to the expenditures in the stables. 
 Fermor glanced at the title it was a volume of St. 
 George Mivart. Fermor's preconceived idea of a 
 woman who read thoughtful books, was a dowdy per- 
 son who insisted on forcing her convictions on other 
 people. This woman, however, was an extremely 
 gentle and winning and dove-eyed creature in a deli- 
 cious gown the colour of the daffodil. A man could 
 stand a good deal of thoughtful reading from a 
 woman who looked and dressed as did Theodora. 
 
 " Pretty heavy reading? " he asked, smiling. 
 
 "Very interesting," replied Theodora, smiling 
 back, " but not so fatiguing as a batch of second- 
 rate novels I wish you would read it."
 
 THE CRUCIBLE 257 
 
 " My dear Theodora, I have no taste for specula- 
 tive philosophy. I am afraid that practical politics 
 is my role." 
 
 " It is a very great and powerful role," replied 
 Theodora, still cutting the leaves of her book. " I 
 find that men in general are divided into two classes 
 i those who say things and those who do things. 
 Mivart could say things. I prefer a man like you, 
 who can do things. Have you heard from Lord Cas- 
 tlemaine to-day?" 
 
 " No," replied Fermor, " not a line since his letter 
 of a week ago, saying that he would arrive in Eng- 
 land the first week in March. You must not be 
 afraid of him ; he is as helpless as other men with a 
 charming woman." 
 
 Theodora opened her dark eyes in calm amaze- 
 ment. 
 
 " I am not in the least afraid of Lord Castle- 
 maine. I rather like him. Why should anyone be 
 afraid of another person? I believe your aunt, Lady 
 Susan, expected me to be terrified when she refused 
 to come to our wedding. She is an excellent, well- 
 meaning woman, but perfectly ridiculous." 
 
 Fermor laid down his paper and laughed with quiet 
 enjoyment. His American wife was always giving 
 him new views of things and innocently leading up to 
 them. He was beginning to see in her nascent 
 gleams of that humour with which God has endowed 
 every American. Then Theodora began to speak of 
 a large party which they were arranging for Easter:
 
 258 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 week, which fell on the last of March. It was to be 
 a political party, and Theodora was to try her hand 
 for the first time at being a political hostess. Fer- 
 mor, however, had no fear of the outcome, after 
 three weeks of Theodora's regime. 
 
 " Papa doesn't want to be here then," said Theo- 
 dora, " but of course I shan't allow him to beg off. 
 It might look disrespectful to the world if my father 
 should be left out of the first large party we are en- 
 tertaining, so I have written him very positively 
 that he must come." 
 
 This writing " very positively " to a father that 
 he must do thus and so, was still novel to Fermor, 
 and he laughed again, to Theodora's surprise, who 
 had no suspicion of anything humorous in her state- 
 ment. 
 
 " It will all be very fine," said Fermor. " I like the 
 idea of once more receiving public men as my grand- 
 father did when he was Secretary of State for War. 
 But after all, I shall be glad when we can resume our 
 quiet evenings alone together." 
 
 A deep blush appeared in Theodora's pale, pretty 
 cheeks. 
 
 Fermor, like a lover, took her hand and asked her 
 if she, too, would not be glad when they could once 
 more be alone together. Theodora said no word, 
 but she raised her dark eyes to Fermor's with a con- 
 fession in them which he readily understood. 
 
 At that moment, each felt almost too happy. The 
 old superstition that when one reaches the ultimate
 
 THE CRUCIBLE 259 
 
 heights of love and joy, Fate must be propitiated, 
 occurred to Fermor. He had from the beginning 
 found himself more and more inclined to this mar- 
 riage which seemed to be one of interest ; when it was 
 accomplished, it dawned upon him that he had 
 reached a singular degree both of good fortune and 
 happiness. He had achieved his ambition, a seat in 
 Parliament, and had acquired King's Lyndon, to 
 which his heart had ever been bound. He was mar- 
 ried to a wife who commanded his admiration and his 
 interest, and now the greatest good of all had be- 
 fallen him he knew they loved each other. 
 
 " Let us walk on the terrace," said Fermor ; " it is 
 not cold." 
 
 ** And the moon shines," answered Theodora softly. 
 
 For an hour they strolled up and down slowly, 
 watching the moon shimmering on the lake, and lis- 
 tening to those faint sounds of night that make the 
 silence more silent. They spoke little ; they were op- 
 pressed with the sense of their happiness. 
 
 " We are not very young, remember," said Theo- 
 dora, as if chiding herself for their hour of rap- 
 ture. 
 
 " No, thank Godl," replied Fermor, '" we know 
 something. We cannot be deceived any more." 
 
 That evening walk on the terrace marked an epoch. 
 It was the full revelation of their souls to each 
 other. 
 
 Lord Castlemaine was one of the few philosophers 
 who could live philosophically. The news of Fer-
 
 260 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 mor's marriage on the heels of the newspaper story, 
 and what it suggested, gave him a shock, but he 
 rallied from it quickly. After all, Theodora her- 
 self was unexceptionable. The money was undoubt- 
 edly secure, and the one thing was to repudiate Sey- 
 mour and hush the matter up as far as possible. The 
 point that troubled Lord Castlemaine most, the 
 thought of his future grandchildren inheriting a 
 strain of convict blood, was still in the air. There 
 might not be children or they might not resemble 
 Seymour. The control of the will is the great factor 
 in human affairs, and Lord Castlemaine set about 
 making the most of the advantages and the least of 
 the disadvantages of his son's marriage. He knew 
 about the large party, including the Prime Minister, 
 who was to spend Easter week at King's Lyndon, but 
 gave himself no uneasiness with regard to Theodora's 
 bearing. Being an excellent judge of women, Lord 
 Castlemaine felt that his daughter-in-law was su- 
 perior to most women in this respect. One thing, 
 however, was certain Seymour must be made to keep 
 away from King's Lyndon. 
 
 These ideas occupied Lord Castlemaine dur- 
 ing his convalescence, which was rapid. In the third 
 week in March he was quite well enough to travel, 
 his gout subdued, and he felt himself ten years 
 younger for his winter at Monte Carlo. The iden- 
 tity of the person who had sent him the newspaper 
 was quite unknown to Lord Castlemaine, until he was 
 in the act of putting it in his despatch box, and
 
 THE CRUCIBLE 261 
 
 then his eye caught a memorandum scrawled on the 
 inner page, in a handwriting distinctly un-Eng- 
 lish. It was Send this to " A. N. W." Lord Cas- 
 tlemaine's mind instantly flew to Wyndham, the 
 American journalist, and he recalled Wyndham's 
 card, " Mr. Arthur Nesbit Wyndham." Lord Cas- 
 tlemaine was so convinced that he had found his man, 
 that the day he started for England he sent a tele- 
 gram to Wyndham, asking him to call on an evening 
 three days hence, at Castlemaine House. 
 
 He made the journey by way of Paris, and ar- 
 rived in fine fettle at Castlemaine House. Lady Susan 
 Battle, who loved as well as feared her brother, in- 
 vaded the house on the evening of Lord Castlemaine's 
 arrival, as soon as dinner was over, and he was smok- 
 ing his forbidden cigar and enjoying his unauthor- 
 ised coffee before the library fire. Lady Susan began 
 to pour out her own troubles, chief of which was the 
 incipient affair between Jane Battle and Wynd- 
 ham, and Jane's silent but open rebellion. 
 
 " What are you worrying for ? " asked Lord Cas- 
 tlemaine ; " the fellow is decent enough and has some 
 money, and the girl likes him." 
 
 " Jane is my step-daughter and I am the daughter 
 of the seventh Earl of Castlemaine," replied Lady 
 Susan as if conveying that information for the first 
 time, " and no girl in her set has married an Amer- 
 ican, so why should my husband's daughter so de- 
 grade herself? " 
 
 *' I can tell you why 110 girl in Jane's set has mar-
 
 262 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 ried an American," answered Lord Castlemaine with 
 his most provoking good humour " none of them 
 has been asked. American men don't want to marry 
 our girls, that is plain enough. It is just as easy 
 to get a few millions into a family by means of a 
 complaisant American husband, as through a spoiled 
 and overbearing American girl for that is what they 
 all are. For my part, I believe that my daughter-in- 
 law has dragooned Fermor from the beginning not 
 openly and violently, of course^ but ' in pretty 
 Fanny's way ! ' : 
 
 " True," replied Lady Susan tartly. " In every- 
 thing concerning the engagement and marriage, Fer- 
 mor yielded with the most abominable weakness. I 
 understand she herself pays the men servants' wages. 
 As for the marriage ceremony being performed by 
 a Romish priest, I was simply shocked. Fermor 
 should never have consented to that. I should not 
 be surprised if Lady Fermor should actually drag 
 Fermor off to the Roman Catholic church on Sun- 
 days, instead of worshipping, as he should, in the 
 family pew in his own parish church." 
 
 " I wish to God she would," replied Lord Castle- 
 maine, as usual in opposition. " It would pay off 
 some old scores I owe the Bishop. I objected very 
 much to the vicar at King's Lyndon, and his med- 
 dling with the tenants, and listening to their griev- 
 ances, and I asked the Bishop to give him a wigging. 
 Instead of that, the Bishop had him for a week-end 
 at the Palace, and I believe, between them., they
 
 THE CRUCIBLE S63 
 
 concocted a scheme against me and in favour of the 
 tenants." 
 
 Lady Susan was used to this sort of thing and did 
 not take it wholly at its face value. Nevertheless, 
 it was very annoying. In the midst of their talk, a 
 card was brought to Lord Castlemaine and he di- 
 rected that the gentleman be shown in. The gentle- 
 man proved to be Wyndham, which sent a thrill of 
 indignation down Lady Susan's backbone. 
 
 Wyndham, however, met Lady Susan with affec- 
 tionate effusion. In vain, Lady Susan assumed what 
 Lord Castlemaine called her Queen Boadicea air, and 
 drew about her large and stately figure the folds of 
 her crimson velvet gown, which had done duty for 
 ten seasons, and showed it. Wyndham only moved 
 his chair the closer and inquired pointedly after Miss 
 Battle. 
 
 " My daughter is quite well," responded Lady 
 Susan freezingly. 
 
 "It is hardly worth while to ask how you are, 
 Lady Susan," said Wyndham with an admiring grin. 
 " You are, I may say, a perfect picture of health and 
 beauty, and what I should call, a Hebe in middle life." 
 
 Lady Susan turned a stony glance on Wyndham, 
 and Lord Castlemaine, with an answering grin, re- 
 plied thus, for her: 
 
 " I am sure," he said, " Lady Susan appreciates 
 these compliments, and your admiration for Jane is 
 well founded. She is really an attractive girl, when 
 she can escape from that self-consciousness which is
 
 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 the drawback of English girls. It is the fault of 
 the mothers though not of the unfortunate daugh- 
 ters themselves. Susan, you should educate yourself 
 to look with feigned indifference upon a man who 
 approaches your step-daughter, even if he be mar- 
 riageable." 
 
 " I think," said Lady Susan, rising majestically, 
 " I must say good evening. Mr. Battle is at home 
 this evening, and I don't wish to leave him alone." 
 
 Wyndham opened the library door for her and 
 shook hands with her warmly, asking to be remem- 
 bered to the young ladies, and especially to Miss 
 Battle.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 THE RECKONING DAY 
 
 WHEN the door was shut and Wyndham returned to 
 Lord Castlemaine, he took up a cigar while waiting 
 Lord Castlemaine's communication. The room was 
 large, lofty, dark and magnificent. The sparkling 
 fire and the glowing lamp cast high lights upon Lord 
 Castlemaine's strong, high-coloured face and large 
 figure. He was the battered wreck of manly beauty, 
 just as his mind was a type of useless and perverted 
 talent. Wyndham, with his keen and practical 
 American mind, grasped this and thought Lord Cas- 
 tlemaine one of the most interesting men he had ever 
 met. As for Lord Castlemaine's relations with the 
 rest of mankind, this man of great birth, gifts 
 and fortune had lived in vain. For himself, how- 
 ever, he had done generous things. Wyndham 
 thought he had never known a man who saw men and 
 who looked at life in a clearer light than this pagan 
 person. But, on the whole, Lord Castlemaine reck- 
 oned that but one fate remained for all who opposed 
 him, and that was destruction. 
 
 After a minute, Lord Castlemaine asked : 
 " Do you intend to marry the Battle girl ? " 
 Wyndham's face flushed a little; he was not ac- 
 
 265
 
 266 THE MARRIAGE OFi THEODORA 
 
 customed to hear such things, put in such a form. 
 Like the normal American, he was as sentimental as 
 he was practical. 
 
 " I hardly think that is the way to put it," he said. 
 " Would Miss Battle do me the honour of marrying 
 me?" 
 
 " Oh, Lord ! Lady Susan tells me the girl is dying 
 in love with you." 
 
 The flush deepened on Wyndham's clear-cut, clean- 
 shaven face. 
 
 " I don't consider any one can be justified in say- 
 ing that. It is a good deal, however, to ask a girl 
 in Miss Battle's position to give up her family and 
 her country and to come to America with me. I have 
 a very good fortune, but there is something else in 
 this world besides money." 
 
 Lord Castlemaine was surprised to hear this sen- 
 timent from an American. 
 
 " The girl won't mind that," he replied, puffing 
 away at his cigar. " If there is one thing that an 
 Englishman or an Englishwoman minds less than 
 another it is leaving England. That is why we are 
 the greatest colonisers on earth. By the way I be- 
 lieve you were present at Lord Fermor's wedding." 
 
 " Yes," answered Wyndham ; " it was one of the 
 few cheerful weddings I ever saw. Generally the 
 small wedding at home is about as gay as sitting up> 
 with a corpse." 
 
 " It began as an arrangement," said Lord Castle- 
 maine, " but I think I saw indications that some-
 
 THE RECKONING DAY 267 
 
 thing stronger, if not wiser, was developing between 
 Lord Fermor and Madame Fontarini." 
 
 " I think I saw the same thing. Madame Fonta- 
 rini has had a terrible experience in life. I fancy she 
 was afraid of men and would never have made a 
 second marriage but for her father." 
 
 "Ah, yes." 
 
 " Then when Fermor appeared, I am inclined to be- 
 lieve her inclination seconded her father's wishes." 
 
 "American fathers, I understand, are not very 
 keen for their daughters to marry," said Lord Cas- 
 tlemaine, looking full into Wyndham's eyes ; " but 
 perhaps there was a reason in Seymour's case." 
 
 Lord Castlemaine opened the drawer of the library 
 table, unlocked his portfolio and handed Wyndham 
 the newspaper which he had left in Mrs. Bellenden's 
 house. One look at Wyndham's expressive face con- 
 vinced Lord Castlemaine that he and Wyndham har- 
 boured the same suspicions concerning Seymour. 
 
 " It is a very terrible and very painful affair," 
 said Lord Castlemaine, quietly assuming that he and 
 Wyndham thought alike. " The only thing is to 
 try if possible to keep it quiet and break up all as- 
 sociations between Lady Fermor and her father." 
 
 " It might be easy enough to keep it quiet," re- 
 plied Wyndham after a pause ; " it all began twenty- 
 three years ago, and nobody is particularly inter- 
 ested in bringing a man back to serve his term after 
 that length of time. However, if the authorities 
 wanted him, they could very easily have him ex-
 
 268 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 tradited; but as for breaking up all association be- 
 tween Lady Fermor and her father that I consider 
 quite impossible." 
 
 A look came into Lord Castlemaine's eyes which 
 Wyndham thought no woman would like to face. But 
 Wyndham himself was troubled; he rose and stood 
 before Lord Castlemaine's chair. 
 
 " I can't tell you," he said, " how much this thing 
 has distressed me. I grew up in this little town and 
 the story was familiar to me as a boy, and I con- 
 ceived the idea of solving the mystery. Then two 
 years ago, when reports drifted back to us that this 
 man still lived and had made a great fortune, I took 
 a sort of academic interest in it and made up my mind 
 to trace the story." 
 
 " You have traced it only too well," said Lord Cas- 
 tlemaine with a short laugh. 
 
 " So I fear. Mr. Seymour himself is as far re- 
 moved from the type I imagined as any man could 
 be. I admire his generosity, his Christian socialism, 
 his simplicity, his devotion to his daughter. I have 
 accepted his hospitality and now, all at once, I am 
 confronted with evidences which are very painful. At 
 least I have nothing to do with that newspaper story, 
 and it embodies a great deal more than I ever knew." 
 
 " I wonder what considerate friend sent it to me," 
 said Lord Castlemaine, putting the newspaper back 
 in the portifolio and locking it and the drawer, too. 
 
 Wyndham thought a moment or two. 
 
 "I remember mislaying an American newspaper
 
 THE RECKONING DAY 269 
 
 some weeks ago, leaving it in Mrs. Bellenden's house, 
 in Chester Street. This looks like the newspaper, al- 
 though I had not opened it." 
 
 " And it was no doubt sent me by Mrs. Bellenden 
 confound her ! " answered Lord Castlemaine. 
 
 Wyndham sat down again on the other side of the 
 table, looking very unhappy, and leaned his head 
 upon his hands. 
 
 " Some women are devils," he said. " It was Mrs. 
 Bellenden who put the first idea in my mind that Sey- 
 mour was the man I was trying to place." 
 
 "After all," continued Lord Castlemaine, taking 
 up his habitual mode of reasoning, " the whole thing 
 is done, and we must make the best of it. Do you 
 know where Seymour is just now? " 
 
 " He went to Scotland for a month after the 
 wedding, and is due in London about this time. I 
 can only say this, that in any effort to keep this 
 quiet, you may count upon me, out of sincere regard 
 for Mr. Seymour and Lady Fermor." 
 
 Presently Wyndham got up and went away. Lord 
 Castlemaine walked across the great room, pulled 
 aside the heavy draperies of the window, and looked 
 out upon the wide street and the darkness punctured 
 at points by the gas lamps. He glanced toward the 
 next house and, to his surprise, saw lights in the 
 drawing-room windows. A touch of the bell brought 
 a footman. 
 
 "Go to the next house," said Lord Castlemaine, 
 " and inquire if Mr. Seymour is at home, and if so,
 
 270 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 make Lord Castlemaine's compliments and he would 
 be very much obliged if Mr. Seymour could see Lord 
 Castlemaine here for a few minutes this evening." 
 
 The footman went out and Lord Castlemaine re- 
 turned to his seat by the fire. It would be extremely 
 fortunate if Seymour were at home. In five minutes 
 the footman returned, saying Mr. Seymour was at 
 home and would have the pleasure of coming to see 
 Lord Castlemaine. 
 
 In five minutes more, Seymour entered the room. 
 He greeted Lord Castlemaine with his usual simple 
 cordiality and took the chair lately vacated by 
 Wyndham. Lord Castlemaine was more than cour- 
 teous. Something of noblesse oblige remained in 
 him he was about to deal this man a mortal blow, 
 barbed with certainty. Meanwhile, he would treat 
 Seymour strictly as a gentleman. 
 
 " You had a pretty bad accident, I understand," 
 said Seymour, leaning forward, the light from the 
 lamp falling upon the grey hair and moustache and 
 his eyes with their singular expression of pathos and 
 trust. 
 
 " Not so very bad," replied Lord Castlemaine, 
 " but it kept me quiet for a whole month and cured 
 my gout." 
 
 " You know, of course, that Lord Fermor did not 
 receive the telegram about the accident and sup- 
 posed you were in Paris until the day before the 
 wedding came off. I wish you could have been pres- 
 ent."
 
 THE RECKONING DAY 271 
 
 " It was my intention to be there, but I did not 
 permanently recover consciousness until some hours 
 after the ceremony had been performed," replied 
 Lord Castlemaine. 
 
 " It was really a most interesting occasion," said 
 Seymour, with a sort of simple enthusiasm. " You 
 will pardon a father's pride when I tell you that my 
 daughter never appeared to greater advantage than 
 on that day, and I never felt more deeply assured of 
 her affection than when I parted from her that af- 
 ternoon. You know, perhaps, that I have leased a 
 small place Barleywood close to King's Lyn- 
 don, and my daughter and Lord Fermor have been 
 preparing it for me. My daughter writes me that 
 Lord Fermor has been most sympathetic and has 
 shown the greatest interest in arranging for my com- 
 fort. It is very gratifying." 
 
 " Barleywood is an insignificant place, but com- 
 fortable enough," said Lord Castlemaine quietly. 
 
 " So," replied Seymour, " now that my daughter 
 is once more happy, I should lead a life of quietness 
 and even obscurity. It was natural that I should 
 wish to give my daughter all the advantages of for- 
 tune, and I may say, I did it. But now I am grow- 
 ing an old man, I am very simple in my tastes, and to 
 live quietly and see my daughter once a day, is 
 enough for me in this life." 
 
 " I believe," said Lord Castlemaine slowly, " that 
 you are capable of any sacrifices for your daughter." 
 
 "I hope so," answered Seymour.
 
 272 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 " Then," said Lord Castlemaine, " it might be 
 well for you to have no further association with 
 Lady Fermor." 
 
 Seymour shrank back in his chair and the placid 
 expression of his eyes changed instantly to one of 
 anxiety and terror. Lord Castlemaine once more un- 
 locked the drawer and the portfolio and took from it 
 the newspaper and laid it before Seymour, who raised 
 it up with trembling hands and began to read the 
 marked column. When he laid it down on the table 
 again, he had recovered his composure. 
 
 " It's every word true," he said calmly. " I have 
 been looking for this for twenty years past." 
 
 Lord Castlemaine had expected some outbreak 
 of emotion, a shuddering and sobbing, a vain plead- 
 ing and protesting when the shock of revelation came. 
 Nothing of the sort occurred. The old man for 
 Seymour always appeared to be an old and shattered 
 man sat quiet as death. 
 
 " Then," said Lord Castlemaine, " you see the 
 propriety of what I said just now with regard to 
 Lady Fermor." 
 
 " Yes," replied Seymour in a low voice, " I see it 
 as well as you do." 
 
 Seymour's look and words touched even Lord Cas- 
 tlemaine's hard heart, and he said with some trace 
 of feeling: 
 
 " Of course we must keep everything as far as 
 possible from Lady Fermor." 
 
 " I am afraid that will be impossible," replied Sey-
 
 THE RECKONING DAY 273 
 
 mour quietly. " I think you hardly understand the 
 devoted intimacy in which my daughter and I have 
 lived since she was ten years old. She is much 
 cleverer than I, and I could never conceal anything 
 from her except this," he said, laying his finger on 
 the newspaper. " She had great faith in me, and 
 when I have sometimes told her that I had something 
 in my life to expiate, she always said it was a trifle 
 something no other man would bother about." 
 
 " It is very difficult for a man to deceive a woman, 
 though men deceive themselves readily enough," re- 
 plied Lord Castlemaine ; " but Lady Fermor must, 
 of course, see the necessity of holding no further in- 
 tercourse with you." 
 
 Seymour remained silent for a few minutes. 
 
 " I am afraid," he repeated presently, " yon don't 
 fully understand my daughter. I don't think she 
 will agree to give me up." 
 
 " She must ! " shouted Lord Castlemaine, bringing 
 his fist down suddenly on the table. 
 
 Until then their voices had not risen above the 
 ordinary pitch. 
 
 " In any event," continued Lord Castlemaine sav- 
 agely, " you can take yourself off and keep out of 
 the way." 
 
 " I will do my best," replied Seymour humbly, 
 " but I tell you in advance, my daughter has great 
 tenacity of purpose and the command of a great deal 
 of money. I think she would make every effort to 
 find me."
 
 274 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 Lord Castlemaine ground his teeth and at that 
 moment would have endorsed everything Lady Susan 
 Battle had ever said against Americans. The idea 
 that this woman, only the other day married into a 
 great family, should go contrary to the traditions of 
 an historic house and set up her will in opposition, 
 was infuriating to him. Still, his rage did not rob 
 him of his wits, and in a little while he resumed : 
 
 " Since you are willing to go away we can now 
 arrange it." 
 
 " Yes," replied Seymour, " but I should like once 
 more to see my daughter." 
 
 " That is out of the question if you are acting 
 in good faith and really mean to go away. You 
 would be certain to betray something Lady Fer- 
 mor would be alarmed and then the game would be 
 up." 
 
 Seymour said nothing, but shrank back again into 
 his chair, took out his handkerchief and Lord Cas- 
 tlemaine saw that he was weeping silently. 
 
 " Now," said Lord Castlemaine, " I have met with 
 great varieties of men in my life, but no one quite 
 of your character and history. Tell me what really 
 happened, apart from the lurid writing in this news- 
 paper story." 
 
 " I don't know how it happened any more than 
 you do," replied Seymour tremulously. "I owed 
 this man some money a small amount, but a great 
 deal to me at the time. I went to see him in his of- 
 fice in this little town in the East, and we had some
 
 THE RECKONING DAY 275 
 
 words. He was a man of violent temper, though not 
 bad-hearted, and struck at me, and I struck him back. 
 It was not much of a blow I never had a strong 
 physique, but he fell over dead on the floor. Some 
 crazy devil entered my mind and I thought I would 
 run away; but I had no money. I felt in his pock- 
 ets and took out his wallet and ran to the little 
 railway station. When I opened the wallet to pay 
 for my ticket to New York, I found a great roll of 
 bills. A debtor had just come in and paid him in 
 cash something like a thousand dollars. I got on 
 the train and reached New York that night; I went 
 to a lodging-house and tumbled into bed and slept 
 all night as if I had been drugged. Next morning 
 I woke up, sane as ever in my life. I took the first 
 train back to the place surrendered myself and gave 
 up the money less the little it cost me to go and re- 
 turn from New York. The man had been found 
 dead in his office, but there was a question as to 
 whether the blow had killed him or whether he had 
 died from an embolism from which he had long suf- 
 fered. The loss of the money, though, was known 
 immediately. I was tried at the next term of the 
 court, pleaded guilty to involuntary manslaughter, 
 and was sentenced to two years' imprisonment. I 
 was made the warden's * trusty.' Do you know what 
 that is?" 
 
 " Something like a ticket-of-leave-man," said Lord 
 Castlemaine. 
 
 " Yes. I was employed in the warden's office and
 
 276 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 allowed outside the prison limits and to wear plain 
 clothes. I had some friends who were very active in 
 trying to get me a pardon from the Governor. One 
 day, just three months before my time was up, I 
 drove into town in the warden's trap and went to the 
 postoffice. In the mail was a letter for me saying 
 that Theodora, then a little girl not ten years old, 
 was ill and the woman who attended her had deserted 
 her. I had some money of my own on deposit in the 
 warden's hands. I sent the warden's mail and the 
 trap back by a boy and took a train to the place 
 where the child lay ill, three hundred miles away. I 
 did it deliberately and I would do the same thing 
 again. The day after I left, a pardon arrived from 
 the Governor, but it could not apply, of course. A 
 breach of faith on the part of a ' trusty ' is very 
 severely punished. I carried the child when she re- 
 covered as far West as my money would take me. I 
 found a cheap school for her, and went myself to 
 the mining regions. 
 
 " People in Europe have thought me a great finan- 
 cier. I never was anything of the kind. I grew 
 rich by a miracle. It is always the greenhorns who 
 make the rich finds. I staked off the claim that 
 turned out to be the richest ore-bearing section that 
 was ever known in America. All the other miners 
 stopped digging when they got down a hundred and 
 fifty feet. As I knew nothing about mining, I kept 
 on, and a week after the whole camp was deserted I 
 struck a great belt of ore. It formed a curious sue-
 
 THE RECKONING DAY 277 
 
 cession of loops, all in my own claim. The whole re- 
 gion was rich. There was a concentration of wealth 
 in my claim that was unprecedented. The more gold 
 was dug out, the more there seemed to be in sight. 
 I made a clear profit of three million dollars and I 
 invested in safe interest-bearing securities and let 
 the income accumulate. I brought Theodora to Eu- 
 rope when she was ten years old, because I dared 
 not stay in America. One of the worst phases of my 
 punishment has been this living out of my own coun- 
 try. I have no friends here I can't make any. I 
 am an American and I don't understand Europeans, 
 few of us ever do. I dared not make friends with 
 the few Americans I met, and my life was given over 
 to my daughter. I am not a man of the world, as 
 you know, and when Pietro Fontarini pretended to 
 fall in love with my daughter when she was eight- 
 een, and I thought she was in love with him, I was 
 eager for the marriage, for I thought that this blow 
 might come at any moment and I wanted her to 
 have a protector. Fontarini, however, was no pro- 
 tector for any woman God eternally damn him ! " 
 There was no lack of excitement now in Seymour's 
 voice or face. He almost shouted the words. 
 
 The remembrance of Theodora's injuries seemed 
 to sting the old man into quivering anger, as he used 
 the words that sounded strange from his lips. 
 
 " Yes, Fontarini was a damned scoundrel," said 
 Lord Castlemaine. 
 
 " My daughter never told me half her sufferings.
 
 278 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 When Fontarini was gone, I knew that my daughter, 
 with her grace and charm and the fortune I could 
 give her, would have many opportunities to marry, 
 and Lord Fermor seemed to me the right person. I 
 became convinced that it was far more a love 
 match than either one of them realised. Now, if 
 my daughter can be kept from shame, that is all I 
 ask. I understand perfectly well your stake in the 
 matter and would be glad of your advice." 
 
 This was considerably more reasonable than Lord 
 Castlemaine had expected. He had looked for plead- 
 ings and obstinate resistance from Seymour and had 
 found, on the contrary, what had seemed to him a 
 perfectly rational submission. 
 
 " I have talked with Wyndham, the American 
 journalist, who is a friend of yours and of Lady 
 Fermor's, I believe." 
 
 " Yes, Wyndham was one of the few Americans I 
 ever dared to cultivate." 
 
 " And he had heard the story and was making 
 quiet inquiries in Europe to find this lost ' trusty.' 
 It was not he, however, but another man who wrote 
 this story. Now, stay here quietly in London until 
 you hear from me. I shall go down to King's 
 Lyndon to-morrow. I may not succeed in bringing 
 Lady Fermor around to my views immediately, but 
 in two or three days something must be settled." 
 
 "I will do as you suggest," replied Seymour, 
 rising. 
 
 Lord Castlemaine, from one of those sudden im-
 
 THE RECKONING DAY 279 
 
 pulses which remained from the wreck of virtue, held 
 out his hand to Seymour, who, however, bowed with 
 quiet dignity. 
 
 " I thank you," he said, " but I never offered my 
 hand to any man as long as I was a * trusty.' I 
 certainly should not do so now, when you know what 
 I was and what I am." 
 
 Seymour walked across and out of the great room, 
 and Lord Castlemaine heard the heavy street door 
 shut after him. 
 
 In Lord Castlemaine's opinion Seymour was a poor 
 creature, the sport of destiny, an involuntary con- 
 vict, an accidental rich man, the victim of his affec- 
 tions never were two men more opposed than Sey- 
 mour and Lord Castlemaine. Yet Seymour was not 
 without dignity, Lord Castlemaine was made to feel. 
 
 If only Lady Fermor could prove as reasonable! 
 Lord Castlemaine did not doubt, however, his power 
 to coerce Lady Fermor in the end.
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 THE HEART OF A WOMAN 
 
 IT was early March; one of those soft, bright days 
 which seem the heralds of the springtime. The rich, 
 brown earth was redolent, the gardens and lawns of 
 King's Lyndon had a faint green haze upon them 
 which would soon be foliage. Afar off, the breezy 
 uplands and champaigns of the park glowed in the 
 warm, rich light. There would be storms and win- 
 try days yet, before the summer, but to-day was 
 an enchantment, a dream of May. Theodora and 
 Fermor had been married six weeks that day. Fer- 
 mor was teaching Theodora to ride, and she proved 
 an apt pupil. Already, in a few lessons, she had got 
 her seat and was quite fearless. They had ridden 
 over to Barleywood, which was in perfect order for 
 Seymour, who was expected to arrive at any mo- 
 ment from London. When Lord and Lady Fermor 
 returned, they did not go within, but, still wearing 
 their riding dresses, walked around the lake. Then 
 Fermor declared he must go to his study and work. 
 He was by nature a serious man, and had taken a 
 serious view of life while still in the Guards, per- 
 haps the most purely ornamental military or- 
 ganisation ever known on this planet. Theodora, 
 
 280
 
 THE HEART OF A WOMAN 281 
 
 unlike Fermor, was by nature a child of laughter. 
 Disappointment, grief and shame had robbed her 
 early of her gaiety, but in the sunny air of happi- 
 ness it returned. Fermor was amazed and delighted 
 at Theodora's radiant spirits, the airy humour she 
 developed, her ready, rippling laughter. Theodora 
 herself was not surprised. She was like a frozen 
 fountain upon which the summer sun had shone 
 warmly; it began once more its song and its danc- 
 ing. 
 
 When Fermor had gone to his study, Theodora 
 changed her riding dress for one of a delicate and 
 spring-like green, and put on her head a hat crowned 
 with roses. She went to the little yellow room, which 
 seemed to her the very abode of joy. What happy 
 hours had she known in that little room since her 
 marriage! Hours so serene, so full of calm happi- 
 ness, of deep, interior peace and the long vista of 
 the future was full of such halcyon hours. Outside 
 her window^ a family of robins rioted in the ivy. 
 She took up her violin and began to imitate their 
 bird notes. A little way off, where the lake laughed 
 in the jocund sunlight, half a dozen gardeners were 
 working, whistling as they trundled their barrows 
 along. On the warm terrace, a flock of blue pigeons 
 chattered softly. 
 
 Suddenly, a tall figure crossed the terrace and un- 
 ceremoniously opened the door of the little yellow 
 room where Theodora stood. It was Lord Castle- 
 maine.
 
 282 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 As he meant to bend Theodora to his will, he be- 
 gan by placating her. He kissed her on the cheek, 
 complimenting her on her appearance and declared 
 Fermor to be a lucky dog. Theodora received this 
 with smiling pleasure. She was always flattered by 
 Lord Castlemaine's notice, and wished to please his 
 exacting taste. 
 
 " I will send word to Lord Fermor that you are 
 here," she said. 
 
 " No, pray don't. I wish to see you particularly," 
 replied Lord Castlemaine. " There is a grave 
 matter to be settled and I wish to talk with you 
 alone." 
 
 Theodora surmised in a moment that this grave 
 matter was also a painful matter. Her radiant face 
 grew serious, as she replied quietly: 
 
 " I am a great believer in settling unpleasant 
 things promptly. I suppose it is a part of my Amer- 
 ican blood." 
 
 As she spoke she sat down close by the window, 
 the strong morning light falling upon her black hair 
 which accentuated the milky whiteness of her skin. 
 Lord Castlemaine had never been in doubt concern- 
 ing the marked distinction which was Theodora's real 
 claim to beauty, and it had never been more obvious 
 to him than at that moment. So long as Theodora 
 had been unhappy, her eyes had a downward glance 
 and she was indifferent to the attention of those 
 around her, but now that she had become acquainted 
 with true happiness and the joy of living, she held
 
 THE HEART OF A WOMAN 283 
 
 her head up with the proud poise which is char- 
 acteristic of American women. 
 
 Lord Castlemaine had meant to tell Theodora in 
 a few words the newspaper story, but he concluded, 
 as she would undoubtedly demand his sources of in- 
 formation, the best plan was to give the newspaper 
 clipping to her in the first instance. He took it 
 from his pocketbook and handed it to her. 
 
 " Read this," he said ; " it concerns your father." 
 Theodora took the clipping and said, smiling : 
 " I know what it is. Every now and then, some 
 of my father's good deeds get into print and it an- 
 noys him dreadfully. He is so modest, he doesn't 
 even let me know half the good acts he does." 
 
 She began reading, Lord Castlemaine watching 
 her closely. He had expected Theodora to grow 
 pale as soon as she realised that the person referred 
 to was Seymour; instead of that, the red blood 
 poured into her delicate cheeks until her face was 
 scarlet. She read the long article through carefully 
 to the end without showing the slightest tremor al- 
 though deeply flushed with indignation, and then, 
 rising and crossing the room, she struck a match and 
 before Lord Castlemaine could check her, dropped 
 the clipping on the hearth and saw it shrivel up 
 in the small and sudden flame. Then turning to 
 Lord Castlemaine and looking him in the face with 
 a courage which he had never seen in any woman's 
 eyes, she said to him: 
 
 " What did you mean by showing me that story? "
 
 284 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 Lord Castlemaine was so astounded by her tone 
 and action, that it took him at least five seconds 
 a long time for him to collect his wits. Then he 
 rose to his feet and replied coolly: 
 
 "Because it is true. Your father admits it." 
 
 Theodora remained silent and a little smile of con- 
 tempt appeared upon her red lips. 
 
 " I require my father's confirmation," she said, 
 " before I will believe one word of that." 
 
 This was, in effect, calling Lord Castlemaine a tra- 
 ducer. He had thought it out of the power of any- 
 thing as insignificant as a woman to make him angry, 
 but this made him very angry. 
 
 " My dear Lady Fermor," he said in the bland 
 voice which always meant mischief with him, " what 
 you believe or not, is not the chief point; it is what 
 is to be done. I had an interview with your father 
 last night and we discussed the matter thoroughly. 
 He behaved, I must say, most commendably and 
 agreed that it would be best there be no further in- 
 tercourse between him and you and Fermor. You 
 can readily see that whatever your feelings might 
 have been before your marriage, they must now con- 
 form to Fermor's wishes, duties and position." 
 
 " I understand perfectly," replied Theodora in a 
 soft, composed voice. " When I married Lord Fer- 
 mor, I incurred obligations to his position. He 
 also incurred some obligations toward me; one of 
 them is that when my father the best of men is 
 attacked and misrepresented, it is Lord Fermor's
 
 THE HEART OF 'A WOMAN 285 
 
 duty to stand by him. I feel sure he will do 
 it." 
 
 " That might be the case," replied Lord Castle- 
 maine, still dangerously calm, " if there were any 
 question concerning this charge against your father, 
 but he gave me every detail of the story last night. 
 He was sentenced to serve a term of two years in 
 state's prison for involuntary manslaughter and lar- 
 ceny. He took advantage of a chance to get away 
 from prison three months before the expiration of 
 his term. You seem to be unconscious of the fact 
 that if these circumstances had been known before 
 your marriage to Lord Fermor, the marriage could 
 not have taken place." 
 
 At last Lord Castlemaine had driven the brave 
 blood from Theodora's face. She stood pale with 
 anger and mortification, her eyes blazing and fixed 
 upon Lord Castlemaine. The conviction that what 
 he said was not without truth and even justice, added 
 a sharper pang. But it aroused all the resentment 
 in Theodora's nature, and she was a woman capable 
 of the deepest resentment. 
 
 Lord Castlemaine mistook her silence for the ad- 
 mission that she saw the necessity of yielding. 
 
 " I think," he said, " you see how matters are, and 
 it is absolutely out of the question that there can 
 be any open association between you and your 
 father. Of course everything will be done to hush 
 the matter up and I presume it can be managed. 
 But Seymour must remain in the strictest seclusion.
 
 S86 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 I understand that he was to be included in the house 
 party to meet the Prime Minister Easter week 
 that is quite impossible now." 
 
 " The question of who should be guests at King's 
 Lyndon during Easter week, is a point to be settled 
 by Lord Fermor and myself," replied Theodora in a 
 composed voice. " I am sorry that your first visit 
 here should have brought with it such painful cir- 
 cumstances, but I must bid you good morning." 
 
 Theodora did not ask to be excused or make any 
 motion to leave the room, and Lord Castlemaine felt 
 himself ordered out of the house. He had never in all 
 his experience known an instance of a wife taking 
 such a position, and that, too, without consulting 
 her husband. If his words had made Theodora's 
 delicate face burning red, hers made his purple with 
 anger. He made her a bow without speaking, and 
 walked out of the room. Theodora mechanically 
 watched him walk the length of the terrace and en- 
 ter the door at the farther end, which led to Fer- 
 mor*s study. 
 
 She remained in the same position for she knew 
 not how long. By the strange intuitive perceptions 
 of women, she began to realise, in spite of her pro- 
 test, that the story was true. Her quick and re- 
 tentive memory glanced backward and she remem- 
 bered that her father often spoke of expiation and 
 made veiled allusions to something in his past life 
 which needed atonement. Seymour had a constant and 
 pathetic longing for America, and she herself had
 
 THE HEART OF A WOMAN 287 
 
 a strong desire to go back there after the death of 
 Pietro Fontarini. Her father had, with much agi- 
 tation, but without giving any specific reason, as- 
 sured her of the impossibility of their ever return- 
 ing. But that her father had not really committed 
 a crime, that it had all been the frantic impulse of 
 a moment, even the newspaper story proclaimed. 
 Theodora had too much of sound sense to ignore 
 Fermor's claim in the matter, and there was another 
 persistent petitioner in Fermor's behalf her own 
 heart. She was in love with Fermor, she had known 
 it before she married him and she knew it still better 
 now. But the new love could not cast out the old. 
 Her father had nothing in life but herself his 
 money profited him nothing but the pleasure of giv- 
 ing it way, especially to her ; his generosity had been 
 royal. The remembrance of his sublime affection, 
 the long habit of passionate devotion to him, was 
 upon her. It involved her in a fierce conflict during 
 which one thing remained clear that it would be 
 impossible for her to abandon that tender, appealing 
 father. She had often felt a sense of shock in Eng- 
 land at the strange antagonism which is sometimes 
 seen existing between parents and children. It was 
 frightful and not understandable to her. Probably 
 the people in this strange land of her adoption could 
 not comprehend the closeness of the tie as it was com- 
 monly understood in America. With these thoughts 
 surging through heart and brain, Theodora knew 
 not that a half-hour had passed. Then Fermor
 
 288 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 entered the room and came up to her. Agitation 
 and emotion overwhelmed Theodora. Fermor rep- 
 resented, to her, protection and tenderness. She 
 threw herself, pale, trembling and sobbing, into his 
 arms. 
 
 Fermor led her to a sofa and soothed her until 
 she was able to speak. 
 
 Her tear-drowned face lay against his shoulder, 
 and although her wild sobs had ceased, a shuddering 
 sigh trembled throughout her whole body. 
 
 " My father has told me about it," he said. " I 
 am afraid he was a little abrupt with you." 
 
 "I resented it, of course," answered Theodora; 
 " and I resented the manner in which Lord Castle- 
 maine did it. If it had come to me from you it would 
 have been far different." 
 
 " Perhaps it would have been better," replied Fer- 
 mor. 
 
 " Is Lord Castlemaine here now ? " asked Theo- 
 dora, raising herself and growing a little calmer. 
 
 "No," replied Fermor with some embarrassment, 
 " he told me that you had practically ordered him 
 out of the house." 
 
 " I could not allow anyone to speak to me in my 
 own house as Lord Castlemaine did," said Theodora. 
 
 Fermor's face changed a little as she said "my 
 own house," and Theodora hastily added, " That is 
 the way an American woman speaks of her house. It 
 does not matter whether it is hers or her hus- 
 band's."
 
 THE HEART OF A WOMAN 289 
 
 Theodora felt that she had made a painful mistake 
 that this was one of these subtle points upon 
 which the American and English mind can never 
 agree, and she unconsciously raised another point at 
 once by saying, " Lord Castlemaine assumed that we 
 must withdraw the invitation to my father for Eas- 
 ter week." 
 
 " You will understand," said Fermor gently but 
 with a certain coldness, " that the obligations of a 
 family and a house, I may say, must be considered." 
 
 " I do understand it," replied Theodora, softly 
 withdrawing from Fermor's arm, and looking with 
 lonely and miserable eyes at him, " but are not the 
 obligations of a child toward the best and kindest of 
 fathers to be considered too? It would have been 
 a delicate thing for you to have said so much to me, 
 but in Lord Castlemaine it was most unjustifiable." 
 
 Theodora withdrew herself still farther from her 
 husband's arm, and the husband and wife looked 
 coldly in each other's eyes. There was a rift be- 
 tween them which might mean a chasm so narrow as 
 to be almost imperceptible, but was so deep that it 
 reached the very foundation of things. Here was a 
 vital point and each had rights which conflicted with 
 the other. 
 
 " With regard to my father coming to King's 
 Lyndon," said Theodora after a pause, " that will 
 settle itself, he will not come. But I can't admit 
 Lord Castlemaine's right to interfere in any way 
 with my association with my father. If my affection
 
 290 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 did not make me keep up my association with my 
 father, my duty would. I should no more think of 
 abandoning him than of abandoning you. I am not 
 a slave, but a wife." 
 
 It occurred to Fermor that this was the American 
 and feminine equivalent to what every Englishman 
 is supposed to maintain at all costs, " I am master 
 in my own house." This last was always taken to 
 mean master of everybody in the house, but Lady 
 Fermor not only disowned this proposition, but set 
 up a counter claim. They drew apart and sat, each 
 in a corner of the sofa, facing the first crisis of their 
 marriage. The crisis was so terrible, involving so 
 much of honour and affection, a crisis so perilous 
 to their new-found happiness, that it became at once 
 the greatest affair of their lives. 
 
 " I think," said Fermor, after a pause, " that we 
 should particularly avoid any hasty action in this 
 matter. It is not easy to decide these things within 
 an hour of their happening." 
 
 "I quite agree with you," answered Theodora af- 
 ter another pause, "but meanwhile I must see my 
 father. I shall go up to London by the two o'clock 
 train." 
 
 Fermor made no reply to this. Up to that time 
 Theodora's calm way of doing things, the manner 
 in which subjects which were usually yielded to a 
 man were found to have been already settled, and 
 judiciously settled, had amused and even pleased 
 him. Now, however, when the principle applied to
 
 THE HEART OF A WOMAN 291 
 
 grave and serious matters it had its inconveniences. 
 He had never known exactly how to controvert 
 Theodora. He knew less than ever now, because 
 it was not in the nature of an honourable man to 
 use against a woman the weapons of force he 
 held in his hand, and that woman had aroused 
 in him unexpected, deep, everlasting and passion- 
 ate attachment for which he was willing to sac- 
 rifice much. Theodora's religious preferences, he felt 
 sure, had impaired his political prospects. Her ob- 
 stinacy concerning her father might cost him his 
 political future. It might even cost him the sweet 
 domestic peace which had suddenly dawned upon him 
 in the society of this gentle and charming creature. 
 The prospect was not an agreeable one. If he said to 
 Theodora, " I would prefer you should not see your 
 father at present," he was confident that Theodora's 
 reply would be, " But I must see my father at pres- 
 ent," and if Fermor had answered, " I forbid it," 
 there was no way for him to enforce it, and it would 
 precipitate a collision between them when they would 
 least be fitted to meet it. Fermor glanced toward 
 Theodora. She was leaning back and the large bright 
 tears were dropping upon her cheeks, now once more 
 pale. He leaned over and took her hand. 
 
 " Theodora," he said with grave sweetness, " let 
 us not rashly throw away our happiness. Let us not 
 ask impossible things of the other. I tell you frankly 
 that the first motive of our marriage on my part was 
 one of interest, but I swear to you now, that for
 
 292 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 some time before our marriage I would have wished 
 to marry you if you had not five pounds to your 
 fortune. I think you can't complain that I have not 
 conceded all that you have claimed. But in this you 
 must consider someone else besides your father. You 
 must consider that we owe something to the children 
 which may come to us." 
 
 " And if we have children, they will owe something 
 to us," replied Theodora with the passionate stub- 
 bornness of a faithful woman. " If we should expend 
 upon them years of care, oceans of money, if we 
 should make countless sacrifices for them, as my 
 father made for me then if they should happen to 
 disapprove of us, are we to be thrown aside, trampled 
 upon, insulted and then forgotten ? " 
 
 " But it is not possible that any such contingency 
 as this will arise in our case." 
 
 " Certainly not, but other contingencies may arise 
 and we can't judge now of the view that beings not 
 now in existence will take of any subject whatever. 
 You may call me superstitious if you like, but I be- 
 lieve, I feel in my heart, that if I desert the best of 
 fathers now, and if I ever have a child, I shall reap 
 retributive justice which will overtake me through 
 that child." 
 
 She spoke warmly, the eloquent blood mounting 
 to her cheeks. Fermor said no more. He saw that 
 it was useless to argue against her tender sophistry, 
 her unswerving loyalty, her unreasoning devotion, 
 but like most men, he loved her the better for it. A
 
 THE HEART OF A WOMAN 293 
 
 woman without tender sophistries and superstitions, 
 would hardly be a woman. 
 
 After a long pause, Theodora spoke again in a 
 voice of concentrated sadness. 
 
 " It is written," she said, " that love with me shall 
 always mean a tragedy. I thought when I married 
 Pietro Fontarini that I loved him, and see how that 
 ended! I know I loved my child what a fate was 
 his ! I love my father, and it seems to have brought 
 ruin upon him, and now you." She rose and Fermor 
 rose, too. 
 
 " I can make an answering confession to yours," 
 she continued. " There never was any question of 
 interest or rank with me. I think love came to me 
 before it did to you. When a woman loves, there is 
 but one limit to the sacrifices she will make, and that 
 is to sacrifice someone else she loves. I can't sacri- 
 fice my father; if I am too constant and too faithful 
 to him well, it is my nature to be constant and 
 faithful." 
 
 Fermor drew her to him and kissed her on the lips. 
 
 "Whatever happens, Theodora," he said, "we 
 at least know that we love each other." 
 
 " Yes," replied Theodora, and returned his kiss.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 THE COUNSELS OF FRIENDS 
 
 ONLY a few persons in this world have self-command 
 enough to prevent family cataclysm from being known 
 to the domestic staff. But not one of the army of 
 servants at King's Lyndon suspected that there was 
 a grave disagreement between Lord and Lady Fer- 
 mor. Luncheon was at one o'clock, so that Theodora 
 could easily make the train for London. Lord 
 Fermor went with her to the station and put her in 
 the compartment. Theodora told him that she would 
 wire him at what hour to meet her next day, as she 
 would remain over night at her father's house. She 
 had made an excuse for not taking her maid, wishing 
 to be entirely alone. 
 
 There were other passengers in the railway car- 
 riage, so that Lord and Lady Fermor's parting was 
 made with a handshake and the waving of Theo- 
 dora's handkerchief. Lord Fermor raised his hat to 
 her as the train moved out of the station. 
 
 Theodora sat back in her corner, oppressed with 
 the feeling that she was acting not only against the 
 feelings, but against the interests of the man she 
 loved. But as she had said truly, her nature was too 
 faithful and constant for her to forget, all at once, 
 the claims of an earlier love. 
 
 She reached London within an hour, and driving 
 29*
 
 THE COUNSELS OF FRIENDS 295 
 
 to the great house in Queen's Gate, went at once 
 to her father's study and knocked on his door, with 
 the little familiar rap she had used since her child- 
 hood and which was always met with a welcoming 
 response. Theodora did not wait for an answer this 
 time, but went in and placed her arms about her 
 father's neck before he could rise -from his chair. 
 Then both of them burst into a passion of tears. 
 
 Seymour recovered himself first. 
 
 " Why did you come ? " he asked brokenly. " I am 
 afraid it was against your husband's wishes." 
 
 " Did you think I could stay away? " asked Theo- 
 dora. " What a heart you must think I have ! When 
 I remember from the time I was a little girl, all your 
 goodness to me oh! how could you think I could 
 forget it ! " 
 
 " Theodora," said Seymour solemnly, raising his 
 hand, " I swear to God I never meant to do that 
 man an injury, nor do I believe he meant to do me 
 an injury. He struck me first and I struck him 
 back. As for the money, I was crazy when I took it, 
 and I restored every dollar of it. When it came to 
 the running away from prison, I asked no man's par- 
 don for that. I heard that you, a little helpless 
 child, were ill and alone, and I went to you. I took 
 my own money I had earned in prison. If I have 
 done you any wrong, I have tried to atone for it." 
 
 " Hush ! hush ! " cried Theodora, weeping again, 
 " you never did any human being a conscious wrong 
 as for the money you gave me, it was only a part
 
 296 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 of what you did for me. Look at the house in which 
 I live, and Barleywood, which you chose for your- 
 self. It was like that always." 
 
 " Did Fermor object to your coming? " asked 
 Seymour. 
 
 Those who have lived, in such intimacy as Theo- 
 dora and her father, cannot deceive each other when 
 they would. Theodora answered: 
 
 " He made no objection in words." 
 
 " You should not have come," said Seymour, and 
 to this Theodora answered as she would have an- 
 swered in like case to Fermor. " You would have 
 come to me in the same circumstances." 
 
 "Have you seen Lord Castlemaine? " asked Sey- 
 mour anxiously. 
 
 " Yes," replied Theodora calmly, but in a tone 
 which showed there had been a collision between Lord 
 Castlemaine and herself. " I don't think Lord Cas- 
 tlemaine will again give me his opinion on any ques- 
 tion concerning my personal relations with anyone." 
 Then taking off her hat, Theodora said: "I have 
 come to remain the night and, as Fermor says truly, 
 we must wait a few days and think carefully over 
 what course to pursue." 
 
 It was now nearly four o'clock, and Theodora, fol- 
 lowing her plan of giving no indication of the agita- 
 tion of her spirits, ordered tea in the drawing-room 
 and sat there with her father as she had done a year 
 ago, when she had first met with the man with whom 
 her heart as well as her life was now eternally bound.
 
 THE COUNSELS OF FRIENDS 297 
 
 As she sat in her familiar place doing the well-known 
 things, the past year seemed to her a brilliant, tu- 
 multuous and agitated dream, full of deep joy and 
 sharp pain. 
 
 Seymour had recovered his patience and compo- 
 sure. Theodora's tenderness soothed and consoled 
 him. In the midst of their quiet talk, the door opened 
 and a young ecclesiastic was ushered in. 
 
 " I am Father Mina," he said, bowing to Theodora 
 and speaking English with an Italian accent. " I am 
 Secretary of his Eminence, Cardinal Fontarini. I 
 believe I am addressing Lady Fermor." 
 
 Theodora bowed and introduced Seymour, and 
 Father Mina took a chair. 
 
 " I am always deeply interested in His Eminence," 
 Theodora replied ; " he has ever been most kind to 
 me." 
 
 " His Eminence sends me to you with a message. 
 He is in London almost incognito, and he wishes to 
 avoid publicity, as he is very far from strong. He 
 begs me to say to you, that he would be most pleased 
 to see you any time to-morrow at his hotel." Father 
 Mina named a small and quiet hotel in an old and 
 distant part of town. 
 
 " Pray say to His Eminence," replied Theodora, 
 " that I shall have pleasure in waiting upon him at 
 any hour convenient to himself. Would eleven o'clock 
 in the morning suit him? " 
 
 " I am quite sure it would," replied Father Mina, 
 " as I know he has no engagement at that hour."
 
 298 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 Father Mina would not remain longer or even ac- 
 cept the cup of tea which Theodora offered him, but 
 took his leave. To Theodora this chance of talking 
 with Cardinal Fontarini seemed singularly oppor- 
 tune. He had been to her a powerful friend in the 
 days of storm and stress. It had occurred to her, 
 coming up in the train, that she would like to con- 
 sult some disinterested friend, like Ashburton or 
 Father White, but she knew well it would not be 
 agreeable to Lord Fermor that she should seek 
 the advice of either one of them in a matter so 
 closely affecting their mutual relations ; but this 
 coming interview with Cardinal Fontarini was so un- 
 expected and so unsought by her that, as she was 
 prone to tender superstitions, it seemed to her al- 
 most the intervention of God. 
 
 The next morning when Theodora reached the 
 hotel where Cardinal Fontarini was lodged, she was 
 shown into an old-fashioned sitting-room. Cardinal 
 Fontarini was reclining in a great chair by the fire 
 and his table was littered with letters and papers. 
 He was a tall, stern-looking old man, but his eye 
 was not unkind. Theodora's greeting was respect- 
 ful, and even affectionate, and the Cardinal con- 
 gratulated her upon her improved appearance and 
 inquired after her father. Then he expressed grati- 
 fication at her entering the Church and hoped she 
 was happy in her recent marriage. This gave Theo- 
 dora the opportunity she desired. 
 
 " It seems like an answer to a prayer, that your
 
 THE COUNSELS OF FRIENDS 299 
 
 Eminence should have come to London now for these 
 few days. I want some advice, some help, and my 
 recollection of your kindness in years past, gives me 
 confidence to ask it of your Eminence." 
 
 The Cardinal bowed in acknowledgment and 
 said: 
 
 " Such help and advice as I can give you is always 
 at your service. I am under the impression that a 
 Catholic woman married in a great Anglican family, 
 has her difficulties." 
 
 " It is hardly that, your Eminence," said Theo- 
 dora after a pause. " Although I am sure Lord 
 Fermor would have preferred I should remain an 
 Anglican, he has made no active opposition to 
 my religion and did not demur to any promises re- 
 quired from him upon our marriage. He has been 
 unfailingly kind about it, but it is something else 
 
 most painful " Theodora stopped. Her dark 
 
 eyes filled with tears. She had never felt any fear of 
 this austere old man. In the old days he had always 
 understood her tortured heart and had listened to 
 her sympathetically, as he did now while she told 
 him the painful story that had come to her from 
 Lord Castlemaine only twenty-four hours before. 
 She omitted nothing, and even spoke of her over- 
 whelming indignation which had made her practically 
 invite Lord Castlemaine to leave her house. 
 
 " That," murmured the Cardinal in a low voice, 
 '* seems to have been an extreme measure." 
 
 " Perhaps it was," replied Theodora ; " for my-
 
 300 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 self, I cannot regret it. But I do regret it on Lord 
 Fermor's account. Your Eminence will admit it was 
 a terrible moment, a dreadful thing, for a daughter 
 to face." 
 
 " Quite so, but still it might have been differently 
 managed. The question, though, to which you seek 
 an answer, is, as I understand, what must your future 
 course be." 
 
 " Yes," replied Theodora, " but I don't mean to 
 ask whether I ought to give up my father or not I 
 mean only to ask how I shall act so as to do my 
 duty both by my husband and my father." 
 
 The Cardinal paused a moment and looked fixedly 
 at Theodora. The old feeling came into her heart 
 that this man had in him a rigidity of piety and 
 aloofness which would be sure to give her a disinter- 
 ested view. 
 
 " Some of the Fathers have maintained," he re- 
 plied after a while, " that a wife can do no wrong if 
 she acts on the command of her husband, but others 
 have not held this to be sound. I should say that 
 you are quite justified in principle, in refusing to 
 give up association with your father. But having 
 asserted and maintained your right, you should ex- 
 ercise it sparingly and with great discretion." 
 
 Theodora gave a sigh of relief. She had asserted 
 her right, and was prepared to maintain it, and she 
 was also prepared to exercise that right with the ut- 
 most regard for the feelings of her husband. A deep 
 resentment toward Lord Castlemaine had grow up
 
 THE COUNSELS OF FRIENDS 301 
 
 in her heart since the day before, but she now saw 
 the obligation of assuming a conciliatory attitude 
 toward him. 
 
 " I thank your Eminence, and I shall follow your 
 advice as strictly as I can, but the trouble goes 
 deeper. I find that in England there is a totally 
 different conception of family ties from what pre- 
 vails in America. There is a different conception 
 of the position of a wife. I cannot make myself 
 into an Englishwoman in fact as I am in law. I 
 wish to do everything possible for my husband, not 
 only because he is my husband, but because I love 
 him; but I sometimes fear that I shall offend him 
 without knowing why." 
 
 " That is common in all countries and ages," re- 
 plied the Cardinal with a slight smile. " Do your 
 duty as you see it and try not to offend your hus- 
 band or any of his family or friends. I think, how- 
 ever, they have no right to require you to hold no 
 further intercourse with your father." 
 
 Theodora remained only a short time after that. 
 When she rose to go the Cardinal rose, too, and 
 Theodora noticed for the first time that his large, 
 spare form had grown feeble. 
 
 " I think," he said, " this may be our last meet- 
 ing. When I return to Rome, I scarcely expect to 
 leave it again. I went to Paris to see a dying friend, 
 one of the French Cardinals, a life-long friend of 
 mine from the days when we were young seminarians. 
 I came to England for two days upon a similar er-
 
 302 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 rand; an old friend and ecclesiastic whose time on 
 earth is short expressed a strong wish to see me. It 
 seems to me that my own time should be coming rap- 
 idly. I only ask that it find me at work in the cause 
 of God. Farewell ! Write me within a month, and if 
 I am living, I will answer." 
 
 Theodora went out, fortified in her resolution. 
 When she stepped from her carriage at her father's 
 door, she saw Lord Castlemaine coming out of Cas- 
 tlemaine House. The influence of Cardinal Fontarini 
 was still strong upon Theodora and made her turn 
 into the gateway and meet Lord Castlemaine half 
 way. She held out her hand and said quietly : 
 
 " Perhaps I was rash in what I said yesterday at 
 King's Lyndon. I can't apologise for it, but I can 
 say that I hope we may remain friends." 
 
 Lord Castlemaine had never been able to remain 
 at enmity with a really clever and attractive woman. 
 He felt a thoroughgoing contempt for the Flora 
 Bellendens of this world, not because they broke the 
 moral law, but because they were invariably women 
 of bad taste. He grinned cheerfully, however, at 
 Theodora, and taking her small outstretched hand, 
 shook it cordially. 
 
 " You were rather hard on me yesterday," he said, 
 " but I am of a forgiving nature. I am beginning 
 to believe that the Americans are developing an en- 
 tirely new and not merely a composite race, in which 
 the women are sul generis. As far as I can see, Fer- 
 mor has not had his own way once since he became
 
 THE COUNSELS OF FRIENDS 303 
 
 engaged to be married to you. That is entirely for- 
 eign to British traditions. To make it still queerer, 
 he seems to be perfectly happy and satisfied not a 
 dejected captive like my brother-in-law, Joshua Bat- 
 tle. You seem to have tied Fermor with garlands of 
 roses instead of iron chains, as my sister Lady Susan 
 has done with poor old Battle." 
 
 Theodora smiled a little. It was a relief to her 
 sad and overcharged heart that Lord Castlemaine 
 could adopt his usual tone of banter toward her. 
 
 " I must be perfectly frank with you," she said. 
 " I never contemplated at any moment, even if Lord 
 Fermor should request it, the giving up of my father 
 I cannot and I will not do that, but I will do any- 
 thing else for Lord Fermor's happiness or interest." 
 
 She spoke these words in her softest manner and 
 with her most appealing glance. One would have 
 thought that she was conceding everything at the 
 moment that she was claiming everything. Lord 
 Castlemaine looked at Theodora searchingly and in- 
 dulged himself in his usual plain speaking. 
 
 " You speak softly, but you mean sternly," he 
 said. " Remember, this question involves Fermor's 
 whole personal and political future. It involves, also, 
 the future of any children you may have. You have 
 undoubtedly damaged Fermor by becoming a Ro- 
 man Catholic. Don't talk to me about religious lib- 
 erty and freedom of conscience. It is all poppy- 
 cock in any country where there is a State Church. 
 Religious toleration means religious intoleration,
 
 304 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 and you, my dear lady, with your little hands, can- 
 not move these mountains. Of course, you will go 
 your own gait, but allow me the privilege of saying, 
 * I told you so.' " 
 
 Lord Castlemaine gallantly escorted Theodora to 
 her father's door and there left her. Theodora went 
 upstairs carrying with her a heavy heart. Was she 
 indeed a millstone around Fermor's neck ? He might 
 have married an Englishwoman who could have 
 brought him all the money he needed and who 
 would have been of a nature and temperament to help 
 rather than hinder him.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 THE TRUCE or LOVE 
 
 THEODORA walked straight to the library, expecting 
 to see her father there. Instead, Ashburton was 
 standing, his back to the fire in the national attitude 
 of an Englishman. When Theodora recognised him, 
 her sad preoccupied manner changed and she greeted 
 him warmly. She would have liked to pour out to 
 him all her perplexities, but she was restrained by 
 the feeling that Lord Fermor would not like that she 
 could consult Ashburton in any matter between Fer- 
 mor and herself. It was enough that she had con- 
 sulted Cardinal Fontarini. 
 
 Ashburton, however, at once opened the subject. 
 
 *' Mr. Seymour sent for me this morning," he 
 said, "and told me the painful story of his life. I 
 felt deeply for him, for you and for Lord Fermor." 
 
 Theodora sat down on the sofa, took off her gloves 
 and threw back the rich dark fur that showed off her 
 delicate and distinguished beauty. 
 
 "I am glad my father sent for you," she said, 
 "you are so practical, so clear-headed you see 
 things as they are." 
 
 " I try to, anyway," replied Ashburton. " I found 
 your father predetermined to return to America and 
 serve the three-months' term in prison and accept any 
 
 305
 
 806 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 other penalty which he might have incurred. That 
 was so radical a measure that I persuaded him to 
 send for Wyndham, who might give us the American 
 view of things. He is here now with your father in 
 his private room. Wyndham's first impression was 
 that a pardon might still be secured from the Gov- 
 ernor of the State, but it would have to be on your 
 application. Wyndham tells me that in America, 
 the plea of a man for mercy is not generally heeded, 
 but the plea of a woman is extremely likely to pre- 
 vafl." 
 
 "I would go to America at once," replied Theo- 
 dora, and then remembering that Ashburton was an 
 "Englishman, she added, "I should ask Lord Fer- 
 mor's consent, and I am sure he would give it. One 
 thing, however, must be understood. I can't give up 
 my father or forbid him my house or fail to come 
 to see him. My father, as you know, is the last per- 
 son on earth to make any claim. He would efface 
 himself if possible, but I believe at his time of life 
 and feeble as he is growing, a final separation from 
 me would kill him." 
 
 "You are right," replied Ashburton earnestly, 
 ** all the forces against your father are those of in- 
 terest. He has been, I know, the best of fathers to 
 you- He is old, he is feeble, he is broken-hearted. 
 Read in the Gospels and see what Christ would have 
 you to do. I don't say you ought to defy your hus- 
 band and thereby make the worst of this complication 
 which is certainly against Fermor's interests, but I
 
 THE TRUCE OF LOVE 307 
 
 do say that you should not be required to give up 
 all further association with your father." 
 
 Theodora felt a brightening and uplifting of the 
 soul. It was as if she breathed a purer atmosphere. 
 Like Cardinal Fontarini, Ashburton had dwelt upon 
 the moral and ethical side of the question. Yes, she 
 would read in the Gospels, not only concerning her 
 relations with her father, but how she could accom- 
 modate those ideals as far as possible with her rela- 
 tions to her husband. Fermor had always attached 
 consequence to Ashburton's views because Ashburton 
 was a man eminently practical. Theodora had not 
 consulted Ashburton, but Ashburton had voluntarily 
 given her his opinion. 
 
 Just then the door opened and Wyndham entered. 
 He came up to Theodora and, taking her hand, said 
 with tears in his eyes: 
 
 " When I think that it was through me all this 
 distress has come upon you and Mr. Seymour, it al- 
 most breaks my heart. Mr. Seymour told me of the 
 newspaper which was sent to Lord Castlemaine. I 
 recalled having left that newspaper at Mrs. Bellen- 
 den's house in Chester Street." 
 
 Theodora's face changed at the mention of Mrs. 
 Bellenden. Lord Fermor had never once spoken Mrs. 
 Bellenden's name to his wife, and this very caution 
 on his part, together with Mrs. Bellenden's attitude 
 toward herself, had made Theodora's quick wit sur- 
 mise that there had been some link in the past be- 
 tween her husband and Mrs. Bellenden. Insulted
 
 308 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 pride and resentment shone in her dark eyes. All 
 the woman in her was aroused. She had the nimble 
 American mind which reaches conclusions quickly. 
 Lord Castlemaine had told her, in so many words, 
 that if he could have reached England in time, he 
 would have used what influence he could to prevent 
 the marriage. And it was Mrs. Bellenden who had 
 dared to attempt the disposition of her destiny! 
 Theodora's conscience received a powerful access of 
 courage from her offended pride and indignation. 
 She looked full into the faces of the two men before 
 her and said with cool promptness : 
 
 " Mrs. Bellenden, I imagine, is a woman of very 
 wicked character and conduct, and capable of odious 
 things." 
 
 Theodora was to return to King's Lyndon by the 
 three o'clock train, which gave her only half an hour 
 to be with her father. Ashburton and Wyndham ar- 
 ranged to go with her to the station, and Theodora 
 went into her father's room to spend the last half 
 hour with him. He was sitting in his great arm- 
 chair and looked old and shrivelled and broken- 
 hearted. Theodora knelt by him and put her arms 
 about him as if he were a child. Always the rela- 
 tions of father and daughter had been reversed be- 
 tween them. It was Theodora who now assumed a 
 protecting tenderness over her father. 
 
 " Dearest papa," she said, " Lord Fermor will not 
 require that I shall give you up, and if he did I could 
 not do it."
 
 THE TRUCE OF LOVE 309 
 
 " That was what I told Lord Castlemaine," re- 
 plied Seymour, his pale old face working with emo- 
 tion. " I told him it would not be worth while for 
 him to forbid you to come to me." 
 
 " It would be perfectly useless, and if you tried to 
 hide yourself from me, I would search the whole world 
 over for my father." 
 
 " I told Lord Castlemaine that, too. But, Theo- 
 dora, are you acting right by your husband and his 
 family?" 
 
 " Yes, I am doing what is right." 
 
 " I am afraid, my dear, that you are doing it be- 
 cause you want to do it." 
 
 " Perhaps so," replied Theodora, rising. " I could 
 not abandon you, any more than you could abandon 
 me. There you have the whole matter." 
 
 Then she drew her chair up to him and told him 
 of Lord Fermor's kindness, his indulgence, and of her 
 conviction that he would think as she did on the sub- 
 ject. She was not so confident as she claimed to be, 
 but she succeeded in convincing Seymour, whose 
 spirits perceptibly improved. 
 
 When it was time for Theodora to go to the train, 
 the big landau came to the door and Theodora, with 
 Wyndham and Ashburton, entered it. There was 
 but little time at the huge and crowded station. 
 Wyndham and Ashburton barely managed to thrust 
 Theodora into a compartment ten seconds before the 
 train moved off. Theodora had the compartment 
 to herself. She sat back in the corner, wearied
 
 310 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 with the racking emotions of the last twenty-four 
 hours. 
 
 As the train sped out of London, darkness and 
 fog were left behind and the soft glow of the late 
 March afternoon lay upon the rich and beautiful 
 landscape. The sunshine entered into Theodora's 
 soul. After all, she was returning to the man she 
 loved, and he was her husband. Everything could 
 be arranged everything must be arranged. It was 
 impossible that a husband and wife who loved each 
 other and who were experienced enough to be dis- 
 creet, should throw away their happiness. 
 
 When the train drew into the little station at 
 King's Lyndon, Lord Fermor was waiting for his 
 wife and put her at once into his motor. It was 
 close, so that they were quite alone. Theodora, like 
 many women, was not less attractive for the stress of 
 feeling. A faint colour which was unusual with her, 
 glowed in her cheeks. She was glad to be once more 
 with Fermor, and told him so. Fermor in his cool 
 English way was equally pleased to have his wife 
 back. 
 
 By tacit agreement, nothing was said concerning 
 Theodora's visit. They were not a boy and girl to 
 spoil the joy of their meeting by dragging in a 
 painful subject any sooner than was necessary. 
 
 There was still time for a walk in the park, and 
 the fresh cool air was sweet after London. The 
 walk was meant to last for an hour, but nightfall 
 and a splendid moonrise found Theodora and Fer-
 
 THE TRUCE OF LOVE 311 
 
 mor still in the open. Never had Theodora used 
 more winning arts with Fermor. She had been told 
 that it was her duty to conciliate him, particularly 
 at this time and is was so easy, so sweet! They 
 both felt a sort of intoxication of controlled joy and 
 tenderness, deeper for its restraint the joy and 
 tenderness of the matured soul. 
 
 It was their first separation for a day since their 
 marriage, and the joy and tenderness of meeting 
 again they put into half-laughing words, and later 
 into an eloquent silence. Even when they returned 
 to the house, they lingered on the terrace, watching 
 the moon-lit lake, the shimmering light and dark- 
 ness of the shadowy night. It seemed to Theodora 
 a good omen that they should have had such hours 
 of exaltation before facing the heart-breaking prob- 
 lem which clamoured for settlement. 
 
 Theodora had barely time to dress for dinner, 
 but when she came into the drawing-room she was 
 in striking good looks. Her beauty, of the deli- 
 cate American type, was accentuated by her artful 
 mode of dress. Lord Fermor could not have told to 
 save his life what the difference was between his 
 wife's clothes and other women's clothes, except that 
 Lady Fermor's always seemed to be as much a part 
 of herself as the plumage of a dove or the radiant 
 wings of the butterfly. To-night, she wore a shimmer- 
 ing gown the colour of the palest violets, with little 
 glints of gold all over it, and her hair was crowned 
 with a coronet of violets. At the small round din-
 
 312 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 tier table in the vast and splendid dining-room, 
 Theodora told Fermor across the shaded candles 
 what she wished the butler and footmen to know. 
 She spoke of her father with the greatest composure 
 and also told of receiving the message from Cardinal 
 Fontarini upon her arrival in London and of going 
 to see him. Fermor did not tell her something that 
 had happened in her absence a covert insinuation 
 in the newspaper in the market town of King's Lyn- 
 don, implying that Lord Fermor's sympathies were 
 no longer with the Established Church and that, in a 
 dispute which was brewing between the Bishop and 
 one of the clergy, Lord Fermor would probably be 
 glad if both sides could be worsted. This was a speci- 
 men of what had been gathering since Lord Fermor's 
 marriage, and which had undoubtedly weakened him 
 politically in the division. Also, Reyburn, the shoe- 
 maker, had written Fermor a letter saying that the 
 report was going about among Socialist circles and 
 workingmen's meetings in the divisions, that Lord 
 Fermor shortly intended to establish a Roman Catho- 
 lic chaplain at King's Lyndon, and that a chapel was 
 about to be built for that purpose. It was all 
 ridiculous and childish nonsense, but it meant a loss 
 of popularity followed by a loss of votes. 
 
 After dinner Fermor and Theodora went into the 
 little yellow room where Theodora was in the habit 
 of playing her violin while Lord Fermor smoked. 
 He was passionately fond of music and at no time
 
 THE TRUCE OF LOVE 313 
 
 were Theodora's charms more powerful with him than 
 when, standing in the glow of lamp and fire, she 
 showed the exquisite grace which violin playing 
 often develops in a woman. He had never ceased 
 to wonder at the strength in her delicate arms and 
 hands, but that was the way in everything about 
 her. This delicate creature had the steady resolu- 
 tion of a dozen tall and majestic Lady Susan Bat- 
 tles. 
 
 It was Theodora's fixed intention to charm Lord 
 Fermor at that moment, and she succeeded. Never 
 had she played better; never had she chosen with 
 more art what would please him in the way of soft 
 and emotional music. Fermor realised that it would 
 be difficult to refuse this woman anything, but diffi- 
 culties do not mean impossibilities to an Englishman. 
 Of one thing, however, he was quite sure that noth- 
 ing could impair the love and respect he felt for his 
 wife. 
 
 When Fermor's cigar was finished and Theodora 
 had played a last cadenza and laid down her violin, 
 she came and sat down on the sofa by Fermor. She 
 laid her head on his shoulder and received his praise 
 and kisses ; then the real battle began. 
 
 " I want to tell you all that happened in Lon- 
 don," she said, looking at him with that peculiarly 
 fascinating gaze which was hers. " I told my father 
 what he knew before, that I could no more give him 
 up than he could give me up."
 
 Fermor said nothing. She was, perhaps, right, but 
 it would mean a great deal of discomfort for both of 
 them. 
 
 " Then," continued Theodora, " when Cardinal 
 Fontarini sent for me, I told him of my perplexities. 
 Ton understand, I did not take them to him volun- 
 tarily. Only, as he had given me good counsel in 
 days past, and saved me from the rage of the Fonta- 
 rini family, I felt sure that his advice would be valu- 
 able. So it was. He told me that I was perfectly 
 right in the principle of not giving up the associ- 
 ation with my father in any possible event, not only 
 because he is my father, but because he has been the 
 best, the most devoted oh! you must know how 
 good papa has always been to me! But the Cardi- 
 nal also said, while I should stand by this principle 
 firmly, I should exercise it with the greatest discre- 
 tion and care for your wishes." 
 
 "Admirable, 5 ' said Fermor, smiling; "the only 
 difficulty is in the combination." 
 
 " At all events, I felt sure that I was not quixotic 
 after aU. Then when I went home, I found Major 
 Ashburton there with my father talking about it, and 
 without asking him to advise me, he expressed him- 
 self exactly as the Cardinal had done. Mr. Wynd- 
 ham also came. Of course he took the purely Ameri- 
 can view, and I don't think it ever occurred to him 
 that I should be expected to give up association with 
 my father." 
 
 "My dear Theodora," said Fermor with calm
 
 THE TRUCE OF LOVE 315 
 
 good humour, " you will act as all true women act 
 from their hearts. If I, instead of your father, were 
 concerned, you would do the same for me. You 
 would drag me up from Devil's Island to the Legion 
 of Honour, as Madame Dreyfus did. Let us say no 
 more about it. You will consider my interests, no 
 doubt, but I can hardly expect you to take the same 
 view as an Englishwoman would. I shall love you 
 just as much though, and perhaps a trifle more." 
 
 Fermor took Theodora's hand, but she withdrew a 
 little and her face assumed the kind of statuesque 
 repose which was a sure indication of her displeasure. 
 
 " I discovered, quite by accident, how the news- 
 paper was sent to Lord Castlemaine. You will re- 
 call that Lord Castlemaine said to me, that if he had 
 known this in time, he would certainly have tried to 
 prevent our marriage." 
 
 " My father committed an outrage," said Fermor 
 quickly. 
 
 " The newspaper was left in Chester Street 
 and was sent anonymously to Lord Castlemaine." 
 
 Fermor's English composure was not easily dis- 
 turbed, but now he coloured slightly and looked away 
 from Theodora. 
 
 Theodora's suppressed indignation communicated 
 itself to Fermor, who mumbled something between his 
 teeth, which Theodora understood to be objurga- 
 tions of Mrs. Bellenden. 
 
 " I beg you will understand," he said to Theo- 
 dora, " that as far as that woman is concerned, she
 
 316 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 has not the slightest claim upon my consideration. I 
 take upon myself the whole blame in the beginning, 
 as a gentleman must, but the last five years I paid 
 for my folly. I thought I had paid enough for it, 
 but it seems the price is to be exacted of you, too. I 
 am sorry I apologise for it, but I can't help it." 
 
 Having brought Fermor down into the dust, so to 
 speak, Theodora, like a true woman, proceeded to 
 forgive him. Her face changed, her eyes rilled with 
 tears. 
 
 " It is past," she said ; " let us never speak of it 
 again." 
 
 Then, there was the truce of love.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 GOD AND MANY MEN 
 
 EASTEB, that year, came the middle of April, and 
 Lord Fermor meant to signalise his entrance into 
 public life and the rehabilitation of King's Lyndon 
 by entertaining a large political party. There were 
 some additional guests, Marsac and his wife, the 
 Wyndhams, and two of the Battle girls. Lady 
 Susan was tempted to withdraw her acceptance for 
 Jane, when she heard that Wyndham was to be at 
 King's Lyndon, but finding that Jack Thornycroft 
 was included in the party, was induced to take haz- 
 ardous chances. Lord Castlemaine, of course, was 
 to be of the party, and before Theodora could men- 
 tion it, Fermor had put down Seymour's name among 
 the list of guests. This was in February, before the 
 painful facts concerning Seymour had been revealed. 
 Seymour did not care for such things, but Theo- 
 dora had written him that he must stay at least one 
 night under the roof of King's Lyndon with her 
 other guests and as a compliment to Lord Fermor 
 and herself, and after that he would be allowed to 
 retire to Barleywood. 
 
 Nothing had been said of this invitation, but 
 Theodora's mind was made up as a part of the pact 
 with her conscience, that she would not insist on Sey- 
 
 317
 
 318 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 mour's presence at the house party, and so told Fer- 
 mor. He replied with kindness, that perhaps for 
 Seymour's own sake, it would be best to let him re- 
 main at Barleywood, which would certainly be his 
 preference. 
 
 The preparation for entertaining a party of 
 thirty guests for three days took up much of Theo- 
 dora's time. The presence of the Prime Minister and 
 his wife was to be made a political occasion. A meet- 
 ing in the interests of the party was to be held in the 
 market town on Easter Monday, when the Prime 
 Minister and Fermor and two or three of the other 
 guests were to address a political meeting. Fermor 
 suggested that Theodora should, with some of the 
 other ladies, address a meeting, but Theodora only 
 looked at him with wondering eyes and said: 
 
 " I shouldn't know what to say." 
 
 " Don't say anything," replied Fermor, laughing ; 
 " only talk and look pretty." 
 
 But this was obviously so foreign to Theodora 
 that Fermor said nothing more about it. She would 
 appear upon the platform and would be escorted to 
 and from her carriage. Her charm and grace would 
 not be without their effect. Within his heart of 
 hearts, Fermor had always doubted whether these 
 addresses by ladies were of any practical benefit. 
 Nobody ever listened to what they said unless it was 
 totally revolutionary. Their dress and appearance, 
 however, were closely scrutinised, and in this last re- 
 spect Theodora was a valuable ally.
 
 GOD AND MANY MEN 319 
 
 Theodora, at first, had entered into these plans 
 with enthusiasm. She felt like a girl going to her 
 first ball, so new to her was happiness and a heart 
 free from care. All the arrangements had been com- 
 pletely and skilfully made, but the terrible revela- 
 tions of the last few days had driven it out of Theo- 
 dora's mind. She was recalled to it, however, as the 
 day approached. It was her habit to write to her 
 father daily, and she had often alluded to his com- 
 ing down at Easter, fearing that at the last he 
 might beg off. Now, however, she made no mention 
 of the Easter party and secretly hoped that her 
 father would of himself, decline to come. This hope 
 was realised within three days from her return from 
 London. 
 
 One morning she went into Fermor's study and 
 laid before him a letter from Seymour. It was plain 
 and unstudied, like Seymour himself, and not the let- 
 ter of an educated man, but Theodora thought it the 
 more touching. 
 
 " I can't come to you, my darling Theodora," the 
 letter ran. "I know that you and Lord Fermor 
 would treat me kindly and would never ask me to 
 take a back seat, but all the same it is not right for 
 me to go, and to tell you the truth, I never did want 
 to be at King's Lyndon during the Easter party. I 
 am acting on the advice of Major Ashburton and Mr. 
 Wyndham in staying in London in my house, and I 
 think a crisis will come pretty soon. Mr. Wyndham 
 has been writing to America to influential men he
 
 320 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 knows. He says the Governor will grant me a par- 
 don. When I think of what I have brought on you, 
 I can't sleep at all." 
 
 Theodora attempted to read the letter to Fermor, 
 but broke down weeping. Fermor soothed her and 
 encouraged her to go up to London next day for a 
 few hours to see her father. 
 
 This Theodora did, and was shocked to see the 
 change in Seymour. He looked haggard beyond 
 words and was more like a man of eighty than one 
 of sixty. But he did not lack for attention. Ash- 
 burton and Wyndham were devoted in their kindness 
 to him, and visited him daily. 
 
 He brightened up under Theodora's visit and her 
 promise to come again in a few days. Theodora re- 
 turned home more anxious about Seymour than she 
 had yet been. 
 
 It was arranged that during the three days when 
 Wyndham would be a guest at King's Lyndon, 
 Ashburton, who had no taste for such parties, and 
 had asked to come at some other time, should see 
 Seymour daily. Theodora's concern about her father 
 touched Fermor, and he voluntarily went alone to 
 London twice to see Seymour, and once with Theo- 
 dora. The passionate affection between father and 
 daughter was moving enough to Fermor, but through 
 it all ran a real and painful apprehension. He was, 
 like Lord Castlemaine, a firm believer in atavism and 
 thought that the element of weakness in Seymour's 
 character, the want of resolution which had made him
 
 GOD AND MANY MEN 
 
 a criminal, was a dangerous strain to introduce into 
 a family. He yearned for children, but if they were 
 given him, especially sons, there would always be that 
 unspoken fear that along with Seymour's gentleness 
 and generosity might come that fatal weakness. 
 
 Lord Castlemaine was not a good man to inherit 
 from, but Fermor knew that a man who was all reso- 
 lution was less dangerous as a progenitor than a 
 man who was absolutely without resolution. If Sey- 
 mour had been a strong man he might have saved 
 Theodora much of what she had suffered with Pietro 
 Fontarini. Nevertheless, Fermor, although troubled 
 by these thoughts, was all kindness and respect to- 
 ward Seymour. In return Seymour was almost 
 piteous in his gratitude. 
 
 Theodora had herself written a pretty note to Lord 
 Castlemaine asking him to come to King's Lyndon 
 whenever he liked, but especially before the great 
 party arrived, and had received a good-humored re- 
 ply. Lord Castlemaine at the time was enjoying one 
 of his choicest dissipations. He was in his seat in 
 the House of Lords night after night, professing to 
 fight the battles of his party and making the Prime 
 Minister shudder at such dangerous support. Lord 
 Castlemaine not only denounced measures, but men, 
 with a savage eloquence which made him dreaded alike 
 by friend and foe. When he supported a measure of 
 his own party, he was sure to find out every weak- 
 ness in it and to exercise freely his wit, which was a 
 trifle more dangerous than his invective. He was re-
 
 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 warded by a large attendance on the Opposition 
 benches and much space in the newspapers. These 
 were sources of pagan pleasure to him, and this, to- 
 gether with the Circean spell of London, kept him in 
 town. He vigorously denounced the practice of run- 
 ning away from London on Sunday, and declared 
 that he would rather smell London smoke and sniff 
 London fog than dwell in the gardens of the Hes- 
 perides. 
 
 The spring was coming on apace. Never had Fer- 
 mor seen so early and beautiful a season at King's 
 Lyndon. The snowdrops and crocuses showed their 
 pretty faces shyly everywhere. The weather-fowl on 
 the lake made the early morning resonant with their 
 shrill, cheerful cries. All over the place sounded the 
 sharp twitter of the robins and blackbirds. The clear, 
 austere air grew warm at midday, and the twilights 
 were soft and long. Theodora's spirits w r ere per- 
 turbed and she lived in a tumult of ever-changing 
 emotion. Her reading of the newspapers, and chance 
 conversation with the people of their own class in 
 the neighbourhood, convinced her that her religious 
 belief was undoubtedly affecting Fermor's political 
 fortunes unfavourably. But he loved her of that 
 she was certain, and it was more than she had hoped 
 for in the beginning. It was as if, having picked 
 up a stone, it had turned to a lovely crystal in her 
 hand. 
 
 Although matters between Lord Castlemaine and 
 herself had been smoothed over, Theodora felt that
 
 GOD AND MANY MEN 323 
 
 the first collision between them would not be the 
 last. She rather looked forward to the house party 
 as affording a distraction from her own insistent 
 thoughts and feelings. 
 
 Good Friday dawned in rain and darkness. Theo- 
 dora had ordered her motor at the unprecedented 
 hour of half-past five in order to attend six-o'clock 
 service, which was the only one of the day in the 
 little church at Hillborough. This was excitedly 
 discussed by the servants, who had realised that 
 Theodora was mistress at King's Lyndon and found 
 it difficult to reconcile her calm assumption of au- 
 thority with her gentleness and habit of deferring 
 in most things to Lord Fermor. 
 
 When Theodora came out of her room in the 
 darkness of the rainy dawn, at half-past five, Fer- 
 mor, with hat and greatcoat, joined her, much to her 
 surprise. 
 
 " I don't care to have you going in the rain and 
 darkness alone to Hillborough," he said. 
 
 " Thank you," said Theodora with a bright smile, 
 slipping her arm within his. 
 
 They went down and got into the closed car, 
 which started off rapidly. Theodora leaned back 
 in her corner, absorbed, as Fermor knew, in religious 
 meditation. It was a thing of which he knew little 
 and had seen less, and it seemed to make a division 
 between himself and his wife. But he respected it 
 and even wished that he could feel as Theodora 
 did.
 
 324 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 It was still dark when they reached the little 
 town, and the congregation, with umbrellas and 
 goloshes, was trooping quietly into the church. The 
 altar, stripped of its ornaments to express the deso- 
 lation of the world on the day of the Crucifixion, 
 the door of the tabernacle wide open and emptiness 
 within, the two altar candles that made mere points 
 of light in the darkness, impressed Fermor more 
 than he expected. At a small side altar, radiant 
 with lights and fragrant with flowers, the Host re- 
 posed. 
 
 Fermor had seen the most imposing rites of 
 Catholicism celebrated in Rome. He had heard the 
 trilling and the wailing of the Miserere in the Sis- 
 tine chapel, and had seen the great basilicas in 
 the majestic gloom and awful sorrow of Good Fri- 
 day. But it had struck no personal note within 
 him. This time it seemed to him as if every soul 
 present in the little dark church were mourning the 
 sufferings and the death of Christ. The profound 
 silence was broken only by the movements and whis- 
 pered words of the priest at the altar. 
 
 Kenelm Redcliffe, by his dignity, his grace at 
 the altar, his noble and spiritual face, had in him 
 the power to compel respect for what he was do- 
 ing, and it was to commemorate the death of God. 
 A tenseness of emotion possessed the silent kneel- 
 ing figures with eyes fixed upon the altar which 
 represented the doom of Christ. The priest with 
 uplifted hands seemed like one of those disciples
 
 GOD AND MANY MEN 35 
 
 who were actually present at the awful tragedy of 
 Calvary. At the moment of the Elevation, when 
 the stillness if possible grew more still and every 
 heart seemed to be united with the Heart of the 
 suffering Lord, the sharp sound of the wooden 
 tracklet, which presented with a singular and 
 startling realism the nailing of the hands and feet 
 of Christ to the cross, smote the air. Until that 
 moment the Crucifixion had seemed to Fermor a far- 
 off mysticism; now it was as if it had happened 
 yesterday. He glanced at Theodora. She was 
 leaning forward, her face buried in her hands, and 
 Fermor could see that she was silently weeping. 
 Many other persons in the crowded church were 
 weeping. To all, the Crucifixion was a real and 
 present thing. When the mass was over, all pres- 
 ent rose and went forward and knelt at the altar 
 rails. Those for whom there was no room, knelt in 
 the aisles. Father Redcliffe took from the altar a 
 large crucifix of brass and ivory, passing it along 
 the altar railing, and every person kneeling there 
 reverently kissed the feet of the sculptured Christ. 
 It was done with such a fervour of pity and devo- 
 tion that it might have been the feet of the dead 
 Christ. 
 
 Theodora was one of the last to go up to the al- 
 tar rail. All went in turn, and Fermor, accustomed 
 to the recognition of rank in church, was amazed 
 to see working men and women crowding in advance 
 of the few well-dressed persons present. The work-
 
 326 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 ing people had to go to their daily toil and could 
 not afford to wait. 
 
 As Theodora rose from her knees in the aisle and 
 went forward, an impulse perfectly unknown in Fer- 
 mor's whole previous life, took hold of him. One 
 did not need to be a Roman Catholic to kiss the 
 feet of Christ. He rose, went up the aisle, and 
 knelt by Theodora. As she bent over and kissed 
 the feet nailed to the cross, Father Redcliffe saw 
 Fermor kneeling at her side, and without the least 
 hesitation held the Crucifix out to him, and Fer- 
 mor reverently kissed the feet. He rose as Theo- 
 dora did and they returned to their seats. Theo- 
 dora was keenly conscious of Fermor's action. Like 
 all women, she was disposed to overrate impulses, 
 and it seemed to her as if Fermor were already one 
 with her in religion. 
 
 In a few minutes, with the rest of the congrega- 
 tion, Fermor and Theodora left the church. It was 
 still but faintly light. Fermor put Theodora in 
 the car and shut the door. Theodora threw her- 
 self in his arms and kissed him. 
 
 " Don't attach too much importance to what I 
 did," said Fermor gravely, " but I will say this, 
 that I now understand better than before, the im- 
 pulse that made you a Roman Catholic. It was 
 wonderfully impressive." 
 
 Fermor was not surprised, however, to hear, two 
 days afterward, that it was rumoured he had become 
 a Roman Catholic. He promptly denied this, but
 
 GOD AND MANY MEN 327 
 
 he reckoned that his act would cost him several hun- 
 dred votes in a close contest. 
 
 The day continued dark and rainy and it was 
 as if the world had taken a sudden plunge back- 
 ward into winter. In the afternoon, as Theodora 
 was passing along the hall she looked out of the 
 window, and to her surprise, she saw her father on 
 the terrace. Although it was raining, his head was 
 bare and he stood looking about him with a strange 
 uncertainty. Before the footman could reach the 
 door, Theodora ran and opened it and drew her 
 father within the hall. He had on no greatcoat 
 and was soaked with rain. He put his arms about 
 Theodora and kissed her passionately. Theodora, 
 accustomed to think and act promptly, saw at a 
 glance that something was wrong with Seymour, 
 and after telling the footman to ask Lord Fermor 
 to come to her at once, led Seymour into the little 
 yellow room, where the fire was sparkling. Fermor 
 came in immediately and Seymour- shook hands 
 warmly with him and then turned to Theodora. 
 
 " I am glad that Lord Fermor has come," he said. 
 '* I wanted to talk to him on some business matters. 
 He will no doubt stay to dinner with us." 
 
 Seymour's eyes had in them a strange look of 
 distress and he seemed struggling to recollect him- 
 self. Theodora glanced at Fermor. There was 
 evidently something quite wrong with Seymour. 
 Fermor rang the bell, and when the footman came 
 directed a dressing-gown and slippers to be brought
 
 328 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 at once to Mr. Seymour. Theodora was meanwhile 
 getting Seymour's coat off him against his feeble 
 protest. 
 
 " My dear Theodora," he was saying, " I don't 
 see why you do this. It was never my habit, even 
 in my roughest days, to appear before ladies like 
 this. My child, you must not do it at any rate 
 before Lord Fermor, who is our guest." 
 
 " Never mind, Mr. Seymour," said Fermor, " your 
 coat is a little wet and we think it best that you 
 should change it. I suppose you lost your great- 
 coat in the train." 
 
 " I haven't been in the train at all," said Sey- 
 mour, looking with a puzzled expression from Fer- 
 mor to Theodora, " I only came from my room a 
 little while ago into my daughter's sitting-room. I 
 didn't know that you were here." 
 
 Theodora took her little lace handkerchief and 
 passed it over Seymour's white hair wet with the 
 rain. He caught her hand and held it like another 
 Lear once more in the presence of his Cordelia. 
 Tears were dropping upon Theodora's cheeks, but 
 she tried to speak cheerfully. 
 
 " Really, papa, you are not fit to be trusted alone. 
 Come put your feet to the fire, while I take off 
 your shoes." 
 
 She knelt down, took off Seyour's sodden shoes 
 and rubbed his chilled feet. Fermor went out of 
 the room for a moment and came back again and 
 whispered to Theodora :
 
 GOD AND MANY MEN 329 
 
 " Rolfe will be here in ten minutes." 
 
 Dr. Rolfe was the physician whose house was at 
 the end of the village nearest the park gates of 
 King's Lyndon. It was plain that Seymour was out 
 of his mind and yet dimly conscious that something 
 was amiss. He took Theodora's left hand and look- 
 ing at the third finger, said: 
 
 " Why are you wearing a wedding ring? I saw 
 you myself when you took the wedding ring of that 
 scoundrel, Pietro Fontarini, from your hand and 
 threw it into the fire. Is it possible that you have 
 married again without telling me ? " 
 
 " You remember that I married Lord Fermor two 
 months ago," said Theodora gently. 
 
 " No, my dear," replied Seymour with a look of 
 distress, " I don't seem to remember anything. 
 Some time ago I was living in London and you used 
 to come to see me, but then I don't know how it hap- 
 pened, I find to-day that I am living at King's Lyn- 
 don and I can't understand it." 
 
 It was piteous to hear him and still more piteous 
 to see Theodora's tender ministrations. The one 
 thing clear in Seymour's shattered mind was that 
 Theodora still loved him that she was still his child. 
 In a quarter of an hour, Dr. Rolfe walked in >a 
 keen-eyed man with a capacity for taking things 
 in quickly. He asked Seymour a few questions to 
 test his memory, which seemed defective, rather than 
 absolutely gone, and he was conscious of his inabil- 
 ity to answer correctly, and would say pathetically,
 
 830 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 "I never forgot those things before." The doctor 
 then said to him cheerfully: 
 
 " Come, Mr. Seymour, I think you had better take 
 a nap now, and you will feel better to-morrow morn- 
 
 ing." 
 
 Seymour yielded at once and was led upstairs and 
 put to bed in his old room. He dropped off quickly 
 into sleep, and Theodora left Reyburn watching him 
 and went downstairs with the doctor to her husband's 
 study. 
 
 " It is not much so far," said Dr. Rolfe ; " there 
 is a slight blood clot on the brain. There are at 
 present no serious symptoms, and a day's quiet and 
 the mustard bath I gave Mr. Seymour, may restore 
 him perfectly." 
 
 " It may be the beginning of the end," said Theo- 
 dora in a low voice. 
 
 Dr. Rolfe made no reply, except to leave some sim- 
 ple directions, and went away, saying he would re- 
 turn in the evening. 
 
 The spectacle of pure devotion in a woman, is 
 peculiarly appealing to a normal man, if that devo- 
 tion is lavished upon a legitimate object. Fermor 
 had never admired Theodora more than in her af- 
 fectionate solicitude for her stricken father. She 
 established herself in the room next Seymour's, ready 
 to answer his slightest call, although Reyburn and 
 a man servant were watching. She was not, how- 
 ever, unmindful of Fermor, and said to him: 
 
 " You can have an evening of uninterrupted read-
 
 GOD AND MANY MEN 331 
 
 ing, as I don't expect you to remain here with me. 
 I will come down to dinner." 
 
 Fermor returned to his study, where work awaited 
 him. 
 
 At dinner time, Seymour was still half sleeping 
 and apparently comfortable. Theodora asked to be 
 excused from dressing for dinner and came down in 
 the same simple black gown she had worn during 
 the day, according to the custom she had acquired 
 from the Roman ladies of wearing black on Good 
 Friday. She strove to be cheerful, especially after 
 Dr. Rolfe's evening visit, when he brought with him 
 a white-capped nurse. The nurse, however, found 
 her office a sinecure, as Theodora remained in the 
 next room that night and many times went in to 
 see how her father fared. 
 
 Fermor showed her deep sympathy and kindness, 
 And when, soon after daylight, Theodora, who had 
 thrown herself on a sofa and fallen into a troubled 
 sleep, awakened, Fermor was standing by her. He 
 told her that her father was sleeping quietly and, 
 covering her up tenderly, persuaded her to try to 
 sleep once more. 
 
 When Theodora came down to breakfast, Sey- 
 mour was up and dressed by the doctor's permission 
 and seemed quite normal. Nevertheless, Theodora 
 felt that King's Lyndon was not the place for him 
 at the time. She understood very well that the house 
 party was not so much a matter of pleasure, as one 
 of much political importance to Fermor. The pres-
 
 332 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 ence of the Prime Minister meant much, and the visit 
 had been planned with a view to its political effect 
 in a doubtful division. Theodora had already de- 
 termined upon her course of conduct and told Fer- 
 mor so. It was among the surprises of his Amer- 
 ican wife that she always seemed to think and act for 
 herself and then to inform him of her decision, and 
 as the thing generally was sensible, no objection 
 could be made. 
 
 She said to Fermor sitting by the table in his 
 study at which he was looking over his letters: 
 
 " I think my father is in no condition to remain 
 at King's Lyndon, but I can't let him go up to Lon- 
 don. It seems to me, the best thing is to take him 
 over to Barleywood, where Dr. Rolfe will be near 
 and I can see him twice a day. Reyburn will go 
 with him and take the best care of him. My mind 
 will then be quite at rest." 
 
 " The plan seems good to me," answered Fermor, 
 " I know you could not be happy unless you were 
 near your father in his present state, so if Rolfe 
 consents, we can take Mr. Seymour over this 
 morning." 
 
 At that moment Dr. Rolfe entered and approved 
 highly of the plan. 
 
 " We can never quite tell about patients in Mr. 
 Seymour's condition," he said, " but he must have 
 rest and quiet, and he will not have either unless he 
 knows Lady Fermor is near him." 
 
 When Theodora proposed the plan to her father
 
 GOD AND MANY MEN 333 
 
 telling him that a large party was expected at 
 King's Lyndon, he agreed at once. He made no al- 
 lusion to the painful disclosures of the last few days, 
 and both Theodora and Fermor suspected that he 
 had no memory of them. Theodora and Fermor 
 drove with him in an open carriage to Barleywood. 
 It was a pretty little place, and Seymour seemed in- 
 finitely pleased at being there, and near Theodora. 
 The day, like the preceding one, was wet and gloomy, 
 but Theodora's spirits were much improved. If her 
 father had been really ill, she felt it impossible that 
 she could have carried through the gaieties of the 
 house party as planned, and yet to have postponed 
 them would have been a detriment to Fermor. 
 
 And Fermor's interests, as well as Fermor him- 
 self, were first in the heart of Theodora.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 THE HONOURS OF KING'S LYNDON 
 
 THE guests were to arrive by train, between four 
 and six o'clock, but Lord Castlemaine came down 
 by the noon train from London in time for luncheon. 
 
 Theodora received him pleasantly and cordially, 
 but her air of making a graceful concession secretly 
 amused Lord Castlemaine. He had never imagined 
 himself placed in the position of being amiably tol- 
 erated. 
 
 At luncheon, Lord Castlemaine discussed the 
 political condition in the division since Fermor's 
 election. 
 
 " It is the most bigot-ridden division in England," 
 he said, " and that is saying a great deal. Do you 
 know, I bought a local newspaper at the station, 
 and there was a long editorial pitching into you for 
 going to the Good Friday services in the Roman 
 Catholic church with your wife. If you were an 
 esoteric Buddhist none of the dissenting and church 
 people in the division would mind it in the least ; but 
 they are still thinking about the Popish Plot down 
 here and the Scarlet Woman and all that sort of 
 thing." 
 
 Theodora's face flushed, but good sense restrained 
 her from saying anything. 
 
 334
 
 HONOURS OF KING'S LYNDON 335 
 
 " The editorial goes on to say that you went up 
 to the communion rail with your wife and that you 
 were probably, at this moment, in the hands of an 
 emissary of the Jesuits." 
 
 Fermor smiled. He was prepared for misunder- 
 standings and misrepresentation. Lord Castlemaine 
 felt that he had got even with Theodora for what 
 he considered her impertinence to him. The con- 
 versation then turned upon public affairs and the 
 naval resources of Great Britain. 
 
 " We are paying the penalty of our folly of forty 
 years ago in not recognising the South in your civil 
 war," he said to Theodora. " That would have ab- 
 solutely divided the United States and reduced you 
 to the level of an aggregate of revolutionary re- 
 publics. As it is, the United States has become the 
 bully of the world. The one satisfaction we can 
 get out of it is that the women from there bully the 
 men to an extent never seen before in the world." 
 
 It was not a pleasant joke, especially as Lord 
 Castlemaine had always dwelt upon the fact that 
 Fermor had been very successfully bullied from the 
 beginning by Theodora and her father. It was not, 
 however, in Lord Castlemaine's power to bring a re- 
 tort from Theodora,* and she took his gibes with pro- 
 voking serenity. 
 
 At four o'clock, Theodora, after having taken a 
 final survey of the rooms prepared in the bachelors' 
 wing and the state suite for the Prime Minister and 
 his wife and the bedrooms for the other guests, came
 
 down the stairs to be ready to receive them. Fer- 
 mor and Lord Castlemaine were standing in the 
 great hall where a fire blazing in the vast hearth 
 made the dull day bright. When Theodora stepped 
 down the grand staircase, her soft white gown trail- 
 ing on the crimson carpet which deadened her light 
 footfall, her quick glance caught sight of her 
 father huddled in a chair at the end of the hall. Lord 
 Castlemaine was saying angrily to Fermor: 
 
 " This is arrant nonsense. The fellow's mind is 
 gone, and to have him here now is not only ridicu- 
 lous, but shameful. He ought to be under restraint." 
 
 At that moment Seymour rose and tottered for- 
 ward, and laid his arm appealingly on Fermor's. 
 
 " Don't turn me out," he pleaded, " I want to be 
 with my daughter. Something I know is wrong with 
 my brain, but if I am under the same roof with her, 
 she can keep me quiet. It is so cold at Barleywood 
 and so lonely." 
 
 Fermor took Seymour kindly by the arm and said : 
 
 " You shall not be turned out." 
 
 Lord Castlemaine's face became a deep purple 
 and he said furiously to Fermor: 
 
 " So you propose to entertain with the Prime 
 Minister, a man out of his head, who is a criminal 
 besides ! That, together with your subservience to 
 your wife in religious matters, will not make you a 
 very valuable acquisition to your party in the 
 House." 
 
 Fermor's face flushed deeply and father and son
 
 HONOURS OF KING'S LYNDON 337 
 
 looked each other in the eyes with an antagonism 
 which was almost enmity. 
 
 Theodora had sped down the stairs, and her father 
 on seeing her uttered a cry of joy and almost fell 
 into her arms. Then Reyburn suddenly appeared. 
 
 " I couldn't keep him back, sir," she said breath- 
 lessly. "We watched him all we could and I even 
 tried to hold him when he broke away from me, and 
 we didn't know where he had gone for half an hour, 
 and then I got in the pony cart and came here." 
 
 Fermor taking Seymour by one arm, while Theo- 
 dora held him tenderly by the other, with Reyburn 
 following, they carried him upstairs to the room 
 in the clock tower, the most remote and secluded in 
 the house. Seymour, meanwhile, became perfectly 
 quiet and tractable and agreed to remain quietly with 
 Reyburn in the clock tower room. 
 
 As Fermor and Theodora went out of the room, 
 they met Dr. Rolfe hurrying along the corridor. 
 
 " I went over to Barleywood to see Mr. Sey- 
 mour," he said, " and found that he was missing, 
 and they thought he had come here, as I find he has." 
 
 Dr. Rolfe went into Seymour's room while Fermor 
 and Theodora remained outside. Theodora was 
 trembling with excitement. The condition of her 
 father, the apprehension that she was injuring her 
 husband, and anger against Lord Castlemaine, all 
 struggled within her, and she expressed this in 
 broken words to Fermor. If she had ever felt a 
 doubt of his love before, it would have vanished then.
 
 338 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 Fermor realised all that was passing in her heart, 
 and all he desired was that she should have the 
 strength to go through the three days before her. 
 At any moment the first instalment of guests might 
 arrive. 
 
 In a moment or two, Dr. Rolfe came out. 
 
 " I think," he said, " Mr. Seymour will be per- 
 fectly quiet as long as Lady Fermor is near him. 
 He has undoubtedly had a slight stroke, from which 
 he may recover entirely, or another may follow. We 
 cannot tell. We must keep him quiet and satisfied, 
 and Lady Fermor is the only person who can do 
 that. I am coming to see him twice a day for the 
 present." 
 
 It was then time for Fermor to go to the station 
 to meet the Prime Minister. Theodora remained in 
 her father's room, watching Seymour quietly dozing, 
 until the sound of wheels upon the gravel was heard. 
 Then she descended to the hall, where she received 
 her guests, the first to arrive being the Prime 
 Minister. 
 
 Much curiosity had been felt by those of the in- 
 vited guests, who had never met Theodora, as to 
 Fermor's American wife. The result of the first after- 
 noon and dinner and evening afterward, was of a 
 mixed character. There could not be the slightest 
 doubt of Theodora's grace, charm and exquisite 
 gowns, but she was entirely too self-possessed. She 
 had the air of having been born to her position, in- 
 stead of having acquired it, and she lacked that
 
 HONOURS OF KING'S LYNDON 339 
 
 deprecatory spirit of an Englishwoman who shows 
 her gratitude for her elevation. 
 
 The ladies found her " singular," as they con- 
 ferred together in their boudoirs at midnight. She 
 had not, even at dinner, appeared in any jewels, al- 
 though it was supposed she had many splendid ones, 
 and the Castlemaine family jewels were good ones. 
 There was no doubt that she was immensely success- 
 ful with the men, which did not conduce to her popu- 
 larity with the women. Jane Battle was the excep- 
 tion, for she admired Theodora, and even loved her. 
 
 But if Lady Fermor were " singular," Dot Wynd- 
 ham, the only other American among the women 
 kind, was ten times more so. Dot treated Jack 
 Thornycroft, whose adoration was open and un- 
 ashamed, with a degree of haughtiness almost sac- 
 rilegious toward the heir to a baronetcy. She con- 
 trived to attach herself to the Prime Minister after 
 dinner, to the amazement of all the British matrons 
 present, and although the Prime Minister hated the 
 United States as all Prime Ministers do, he found 
 himself beguiled by this nineteen-year-old, who 
 frankly preferred statesmen to guardsmen. 
 
 Lord Castlemaine confidently expected an exhibi- 
 tion of temper or coldness on Theodora's part to- 
 ward himself, but was somewhat staggered to find 
 her all grace and sweetness. He began to have a 
 glimmer of why it was Theodora had carried things 
 so irresistibly, not with a high hand, but with a gen- 
 tle hand as far as Fermor went. She had clearly
 
 340 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 carried her point with regard to her father, who, at 
 that moment, was in the tower room. Lord Castle- 
 maine heard Theodora calmly explain to the Prime 
 Minister that her father had not been well for sev- 
 eral days, and therefore would keep his room. 
 
 The Prime Minister received this serene announce- 
 ment with equal composure. He was prepared for 
 any sensational development where Americans were 
 concerned. He disliked them cordially, but he was 
 a statesman and had made it a point during his 
 whole political career never to offend them. 
 
 At midnight, when the guests had separated, Fer- 
 mor went to Theodora's boudoir. She had just re- 
 turned from her father's room and had seen him 
 sleeping quietly. The strain of the day had been 
 great and she was lying back in a great chair, pale 
 and dejected, but with unabated courage. Her even- 
 ing gown, a splendid creation in blue and gold, 
 seemed at odds with her pallor and sadness. She 
 rose and threw herself into Fermor's arms and 
 thanked him, as only a woman can, for his unfailing 
 support during that trying day. Fermor felt a 
 sense of triumph. This fearless creature who de- 
 fied Lord Castlemaine and met as an equal the Prime 
 Minister, whose family had held power since Agin- 
 court and Poictiers, showed to him the sweetest 
 gratitude, the tenderest affection. He could not 
 exactly call it deference, but one does not look for 
 deference from a woman who has been taught her 
 sovereignty from the beginning.
 
 HONOURS OF KING'S LYNDON 341 
 
 Theodora assured Fermor that she was in no way 
 forgetful of his interests. 
 
 " I know what it means, those terrible newspaper 
 stories," she said, laying her cheek against her hus- 
 band's. " Ever since Lord Castlemaine told me about 
 my father, it has been like a knife in my heart that 
 I have done you more harm than good. I would die 
 rather than harm you." 
 
 What could any man who loved a woman like Theo- 
 dora say to such words? It was true that she might 
 have harmed him politically and temporarily, but she 
 had bestowed upon him the glorious treasure of her 
 love ; she had restored to him the place he loved with 
 an Englishman's passionate attachment to the land ; 
 she had recreated for him the splendour of woman- 
 hood, which had been lowered by his knowledge of 
 Flora Bellenden. He had sometimes thought that 
 if his mother had possessed half of Theodora's quiet 
 courage, her own life would not have been marred as 
 it had been, by Lord Castlemaine. In short, Fermor 
 was something more than in love with Theodora. He 
 saw, embodied in her, the ideal womanhood of which 
 his mother was a pale and negative shadow. Theo- 
 dora had her faults, her foibles, her wilful ways, her 
 stubborn resolution, but her faults were chiefly the de- 
 fects of her qualities. And, moreover, his American 
 wife was in all things clearly an unknown quantity. 
 This did not make her the less interesting. 
 
 The next day embraced the well-ordered programme 
 of a large party in a great house. It was Easter
 
 342 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 Sunday, and Theodora attended the services in the 
 little church at Hillborough, returning before most 
 of the guests had stirred in their beds. 
 
 Fermor accompanied the Prime Minister to the 
 parish church, which was crowded. The newspaper 
 stories had not been without their effect, and Fermor 
 was made to feel in some way a loss of popularity ; 
 the Prime Minister, however, was greeted with the ut- 
 most cordiality. Lord Castlemaine did not trouble 
 himself to go to church, nor to seek the society of his 
 daughter-in-law. Theodora was glad of the oppor- 
 tunity to be with her father, who was now able to be 
 dressed and to walk about his room. His memory, 
 however, was still subject to strange lapses. Some- 
 times he recalled Theodora's marriage and again 
 thought himself still master of King's Lyndon. Rey- 
 burn, with her usual taciturn devotion, remained 
 with him and could exercise an influence second only 
 to Theodora's. 
 
 At two o'clock, luncheon was served in the great 
 dining-hall. The ringing of the courtyard bell sum- 
 moned those who were loitering in the grounds, among 
 others, Jane Battle and Jack Thornycroft. Both 
 looked radiant, and Jane whispered to Theodora as 
 they met in the hall: 
 
 " Jack has proposed four times to Dot Wyndham, 
 so mamma can have nothing more to say about that 
 match for me." 
 
 Just as the party was assembled in the dining-hall 
 and Theodora was about to take her seat with the
 
 HONOURS OF KING'S LYNDON 343 
 
 Prime Minister on her right, the door at the farther 
 end opened and Seymour entered. He looked per- 
 fectly well and clear-headed; was scrupulously 
 dressed and, approaching Theodora, said to her in 
 his natural voice: 
 
 " I felt so much better to-day, my dear, that I 
 determined to give myself the pleasure of appearing 
 at luncheon." 
 
 A terrible silence fell upon all. Theodora felt that 
 every eye was fixed upon her, but above all, Lord 
 Castlemaine's with a savage mixture of fury and 
 laughter. It was one of the most agitating moments 
 of Theodora's life and a moment when only courage 
 could save her. She spoke calmly and affectionately 
 to her father, introduced him to the Prime Minister, 
 who stood not two feet way, his hand on the back of 
 the chair. There was no place for Seymour at the 
 table, but Theodora's eye sought Wyndham's. The 
 next instant Wyndham melted away, as it were, and 
 Seymour took his place. Then every one sat down 
 and conversation began with nervous briskness. 
 
 Jane Battle sat next Seymour and earned Theo- 
 dora's and Fermor's eternal gratitude by the tact 
 she showed in engaging Seymour's attention. In the 
 confused state of Seymour's mind, any moment might 
 produce a catastrophe, but none occurred. It was so 
 much Seymour's habit to remain in the background 
 that his quiet effacement of himself was the most 
 natural thing in the world. 
 
 The Prime Minister, whom neither a long lease of
 
 344 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 power nor cordial dislike of Americans had wholly 
 robbed of his kindness of heart, felt a real sympathy 
 for Theodora. He thought Fermor very unwise in 
 permitting Seymour's presence at King's Lyndon, 
 but concluded that Theodora had simply befooled her 
 husband into permitting Seymour, an escaped con- 
 vict, to appear at King's Lyndon, and felt a curious 
 sensation at sitting at the same table with him. But 
 out of pure pity for Theodora, the Prime Minister 
 went up to Seymour after luncheon was over, and 
 made a civil inquiry about his health. To this Sey- 
 mour replied quite rationally. Then, catching sight 
 of Lord Castlemaine, Seymour went up to him as if 
 to speak, but Lord Castlemaine deliberately turned 
 his back and walked off in another direction. Fer- 
 mor came up and, taking Seymour by the arm, led 
 him away. 
 
 The day was calm and bright and the men were 
 to smoke out on the terrace. Theodora went up to 
 the Prime Minister and said with a tremulous smile: 
 
 "Will you come into the conservatory and let me 
 show you my Easter lilies? Don't throw away your 
 cigar, I will allow you to smoke." 
 
 The Prime Minister agreed. He was magnanimous 
 toward this injudicious woman, who, he consid- 
 ered, would wreck the interests of his party in that 
 division of Middlandshire, and he went with her 
 cheerfully enough. When they had traversed the 
 long, warm glass gallery, brilliant with sunshine and 
 heavy with the perfume of flowers, they came to the
 
 HONOURS OF KING'S LYNDON 345 
 
 farther end where under darkened glass a mass of 
 palms made a green solitude. Theodora suddenly 
 turned to the Prime Minister and, putting her hand 
 impulsively in his, said to him : 
 
 " How can I ever thank you enough for what you 
 did to-day! I know all about the terrible stories 
 printed about my father. He is an innocent man, and 
 that will be proved when all the circumstances are 
 known. Much as I love him, I did not mean to have 
 him here, but his memory has been shattered in the 
 last few days, and he does not seem always to know 
 what he is doing." 
 
 The Prime Minister was not the man to disregard 
 the appeal of an attractive woman. 
 
 " I feel deep sympathy for you. I admired your 
 self-possession, and you may count on me as a 
 friend." 
 
 As the Prime Minister said this, he felt an inward 
 chuckle of amusement at himself. How great is the 
 power of a charming woman ! He reflected if he were 
 married to Theodora, he might prove as great a fool 
 as he reckoned Fermor to be. Of course the old man 
 should have been securely kept away from the house ; 
 Fermor should never have accompanied Theodora to 
 the Roman Catholic church, and she should assume 
 the English attitude of feeling honoured by her al- 
 liance to the House of Castelmaine, and it was very 
 plain that she was not. But in spite of these lapses, 
 the Prime Minister forgave Theodora because she was 
 so charming.
 
 346 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 When the Prime Minister and Theodora reap- 
 peared upon the terrace in deep and amicable con- 
 versation, Lord Castlemaine's grim reflection was 
 that the Prime Minister had been very successfully 
 bamboozled by Theodora's dark eyes. Theodora 
 spoke to Lord Castlemaine naturally and politely, 
 but Lord Castlemaine had a very true suspicion that 
 matters were by no means settled between them. 
 
 When Theodora went upstairs before tea time, 
 Reyburn, anxious and remorseful, met her outside 
 of Seymour's room. 
 
 " He was sitting in his chair, dressed and reading 
 as quiet as may be, ma'am, and I went out of the 
 room just for one moment and he slipped away by the 
 other door. Before I could find him he was down- 
 stairs. But it shan't happen any more, that I prom- 
 ise you." 
 
 " I am sure it was not your fault, Reyburn," said 
 Theodora, " but pray don't let it happen again, on 
 Lord Fermor's account. He behaved most kindly, 
 but of course it was very painful to him." 
 
 Reyburn, who would have laid down her life for 
 Fermor, responded to this appeal. The story of 
 Lord Castlemaine turning his back on Seymour had 
 got into the servants' hall. Reyburn, in her sombre 
 soul, hated Lord Castlemaine, and was an ardent par- 
 tisan of Lady Fermor and her father. 
 
 " My husband came up to see me just now," she 
 continued, " and he said as how some people in the 
 market town was " Reyburn stopped, her posi-
 
 HONOURS OF KING'S LYNDON 347 
 
 tion as an upper servant and her passionate devotion 
 to Lord Fermor at odds. " Go on," said Theodora, 
 authoritatively, " what did your husband tell you 
 the people were saying? " 
 
 "Well, ma'am, as you directs me to tell, I'll say 
 as my husband says, some people are down on Lord 
 Fermor on account of what the newspapers is hinting 
 about Mr. Seymour and his being here now. But 
 others said as how Mr. Seymour was a good man and 
 it was right for you, ma'am, and Lord Fermor, to 
 stand by him. Reyburn has a meeting to-day of 
 the factory hands, and he is going to speak about 
 the Prime Minister speaking to Mr. Seymour, and 
 Lord Castlemaine " 
 
 Reyburn stopped. She had not acquired her hus- 
 band's habit of speech concerning great people, and 
 Theodora knew the grudge that this woman had 
 cherished for thirty-five years against the father of 
 her nursling. 
 
 Nothing escaped Fermor, and Theodora's civility 
 to his father and the undoubted good will of the 
 Prime Minister toward her, assured him that every- 
 thing would go smoothly during the momentous visit. 
 He said this to Theodora the first time they were 
 alone together in the evening before dinner. He was 
 becoming acquainted with a new phase of his wife's 
 character and got a view of certain characteristics, 
 which he very promptly classed as national charac- 
 teristics. 
 
 " Do you suppose," she said, with a kind of soft
 
 348 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 haughtiness which was peculiarly hers, " that any- 
 thing Lord Castlemaine could say or do would dis- 
 compose me in our own house ? " 
 
 " Men and women are usually afraid of my father," 
 replied Fermor, smiling ; " he acknowledges very few 
 restraints." 
 
 " People who don't acknowledge restraints should 
 be treated as children," said Theodora. Then the 
 husband and wife talked together frankly and with 
 mutual sympathy of the strange and embarrassing 
 incidents of the day, which had turned out better 
 than either could hope. Theodora told Fermor what 
 Reyburn had said concerning the sentiment about 
 Seymour and themselves, and Fermor seemed grati- 
 fied.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 THE HOSTS OF KING'S LYNDON 
 
 IN the evening, Theodora, having dressed early, 
 went down into the drawing-room where her guests 
 were to assemble. Lord Castlemaine was there in 
 advance of her. As usual, Theodora wore few orna- 
 ments, and on her black hair was a coronet of violets 
 with their fresh green leaves and a wreath of violets 
 extended across the front of her bodice. 
 
 Lord Castlemaine, who was standing by the fire- 
 place as Theodora came up, asked promptly: 
 
 " Why don't you wear some diamonds, like the 
 other women? This would be a very proper oc- 
 casion to wear the Castlemaine necklace and tiara." 
 
 " I don't think jewels suit my style," replied 
 Theodora calmly. " They are not really becoming 
 to many women. They suit the large English type 
 better than any other." 
 
 " True," replied Lord Castlemaine, " the insignifi- 
 cant American figure and features do not suit tiaras, 
 but now that you are an Englishwoman, you ought 
 to follow English customs." 
 
 This onslaught did not discompose Theodora. 
 
 " I do," she replied, " but a woman's dress is too 
 strictly personal to be governed by any rule." 
 
 349
 
 350 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 " It is a species of snub to the other women that 
 you should not wear jewels, and particularly family 
 jewels." 
 
 Lord Castlemaine was growing fiercer in his eye 
 and grin. 
 
 " When Lord Fermor requests it, then it will be 
 time enough," was Theodora's answer in a tone of 
 chilling sweetness. 
 
 " Of course," continued Lord Castlemaine, de- 
 termined to quarrel with his daughter-in-law, " you 
 can hardly get the English view of family jewels, as 
 they are unknown in America." 
 
 To this Theodora made no reply, and Lord Castle- 
 maine felt himself a deeply injured man. Yet, his 
 words were not without their effect, and as Fermor 
 entered the room at that moment, Theodora said 
 to him pleasantly: 
 
 " Do you think it would be in better taste if I 
 should wear the family jewels to-morrow night at 
 the ball? " 
 
 " I think perhaps it would be better," replied 
 Fermor. 
 
 " Then," said Theodora, " as it really makes no 
 difference to me, I will wear them. But I don't care 
 in the least for them." Then she added with a de- 
 mure smile : " As Lord Castlemaine says, tiaras are 
 not really suited to the insignificant American figure 
 and features," and Theodora actually laughed as 
 she spoke. 
 
 Fennor was as much struck with the novelty of
 
 HOSTS OF KING'S LYNDON 351 
 
 Theodora's view as Lord Castlemaine himself was, 
 but had greater indulgence for it. 
 
 On Monday the great political meeting in the 
 market town was held. Theodora had followed, ac- 
 cording to Fermor's wishes, the old-fashioned idea of 
 attending the meeting with all the state of her posi- 
 tion. The weather continued bright and balmy and 
 the procession of carriages and motors made a 
 brave appearance in the thronged streets of the 
 quaint old town. Theodora drove in a splendid 
 open landau, finely horsed. The Prime Minister sat 
 by her side and Fermor opposite. Lord Castlemaine 
 would have been very well pleased to have occupied 
 the fourth seat, but was not invited to do so. 
 
 Theodora wore Fermor's colours, violet and white, 
 and carried a great bouquet of purple and white 
 violets. Her reception by the people was not alto- 
 gether cordial. When she took her seat with the 
 other ladies of the party on the platform of the town 
 hall, she was loudly applauded from the section of 
 the gallery which was filled with socialists come to 
 boo, rather than to listen. This did not add to the 
 warmth of her greeting. The Prime Minister spoke 
 well and forcibly and was loudly cheered. Fermor 
 followed him in an address which amazed and grati- 
 fied his supporters. He was reckoned a man of 
 ability, but his life until a few months before had 
 been spent in a way not calculated to show or even 
 develop his abilities. He proved himself to possess 
 the power of thinking while standing on his feet, and
 
 352 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 his address was convincing, strong and was arranged 
 and delivered in a masterly manner. 
 
 The Prime Minister pricked up his ears. Here 
 was a man who would undoubtedly develop that rare 
 and valuable power of carrying a legislative assem- 
 bly with him. 
 
 Theodora sat listening to her husband, the colour 
 stealing into her delicate face. Her pride was grati- 
 fied, her natural love of distinction pleased. When 
 Fermor concluded, he was greeted with tremendous 
 cheering, not only from the socialistic element which 
 was a source of real weakness to him, but from all 
 present. The Prime Minister shook hands with him 
 amidst a roar of applause. Lord Castlemaine did 
 the same, and there was some laughter and booing. 
 
 Then the party left the platform, Theodora es- 
 corted by the Prime Minister, and made their way 
 through the cheering crowd to the equipages. 
 Theodora was greeted far more warmly than when 
 she arrived, and bowed right and left, smiling her 
 thanks. The same cheers accompanied them as they 
 drove back through the town. Once in the country 
 roadway, the Prime Minister said earnestly to 
 Fermor : 
 
 " Believe me, my congratulations were sincere. 
 Much as I expected of you, I may say that you 
 have really surprised me," and then turning to Theo- 
 dora he asked, smiling, " Can you not say the same 
 to Lord Fermor ? " 
 
 " No," replied Theodora ; " nothing Lord Fermor
 
 HOSTS OF KING'S LYNDON 353 
 
 can do in the way of acquitting himself well, can ever 
 surprise me." 
 
 The Prime Minister thought this a very pretty 
 speech, but he was of the opinion that a steady- 
 going Englishwoman would have been better, po- 
 litically, for Fermor than this charming American 
 who seemed to go instinctively the wrong way. 
 
 That night there was a splendid ball at King's 
 Lyndon. It was a very general affair, meant as 
 the introduction of the Fermors once more as social 
 and political factors in that division of Midland- 
 shire. 
 
 The ball had a distinctly political complexion and 
 embraced not only persons of the highest rank, but 
 extended to many who had never before received an 
 invitation to a great house. The only certainty 
 about a ball is the amount of the cost; its success 
 appears to be governed by inscrutable forces. The 
 King's Lyndon ball was from the beginning a splen- 
 did success. In addition to the magnificent suite of 
 rooms, fine music, a gorgeous supper and a large and 
 distinguished attendance, dancing went with a swing, 
 and the spirit of gaiety prevailed. The host and 
 hostess received with the utmost cordiality. Theo- 
 dora had carefully studied the personnel of the ball, 
 and managed to have something appropriate to 
 say, with her natural grace, to every person present. 
 
 An American woman in such a position was a 
 novelty to nine-tenths of those present. They were 
 all conscious of the difference in dress, looks, man-
 
 ner, accent and power between the American and 
 the Englishwoman, but there was no doubt of Theo- 
 dora's capacity to please. She wore the Castlemaine 
 tiara and necklace and made Fermor laugh by saying 
 resignedly : 
 
 " I don't look so badly in them, after all." 
 
 Jack Thornycroft and Wyndham were indefatiga- 
 ble in dancing and also in providing partners for 
 girls to whom a partner was a delightful rarity. 
 Dot Wyndham bore herself like a young duchess. 
 If there were any heavy hearts that night, they 
 were cleverly disguised. Such was the case with 
 Lady Fermor, whose heart, under her laces and jewels, 
 sometimes had a painful throb while she smiled and 
 said graceful things to the people surrounding her. 
 The thought of the old man lying in the tower room 
 and watched by Reyburn, haunted the daughter's 
 heart. 
 
 The ball was not over until five o'clock in the 
 morning. When the house was finally quiet, the 
 dawn was at hand. 
 
 After luncheon, on that day, the guests all left 
 except Lord Castlemaine. The Prime Minister, on 
 making his farewell, said with much sincerity that 
 he had enjoyed his visit. His secret comment was 
 that it had been a little different from most visits, 
 and he wondered how much Fermor's marriage would 
 profit him personally and politically. 
 
 Four persons had found happiness at King's Lyn- 
 don on those Easter days Jane Battle and Wynd-
 
 HOSTS OF KING'S LYNDON 355 
 
 ham, and Jack Thornycroft and Dot Wjndham. 
 Jane, with the promptness of an English girl in 
 telling of an offer of marriage, slipped into Theo- 
 dora's boudoir before breakfast on the morning the 
 party broke up, and confided joyfully that Wynd- 
 ham had told her something she knew already 
 that he loved her. 
 
 " I don't know what papa and mamma will say," 
 she added, " but Mr. Wyndham says he doesn't care 
 and that papa may keep my money if he likes." 
 
 Jack Thornycroft only had a moment, before 
 luncheon, to tell his tale of joy. 
 
 " There's luck in cold numbers," he said to Theo- 
 dora in a corner of the terrace, with many persons 
 in sight. " It's the fifth time I've asked her, and 
 at last she consented. But on such terms ! By 
 Jove, Lady Fermor, you'll hardly believe it, but the 
 engagement is to be kept a dead secret, and I am 
 to cross the Atlantic to fetch her. When I said, as 
 she was already on this side, the wedding might as 
 well take place here, I thought she was going to 
 murder me or at least throw me over, so I hastened 
 to back down. She says she must be at perfect 
 liberty to deny that any engagement exists! That 
 seems positively immoral to me, but I yielded that 
 point too, just as I have yielded every other." 
 
 Much to Jack's amazement, Theodora took all 
 these things as a matter of course, and declined to be 
 surprised at anything. 
 
 When the guests were all gone, Theodora went
 
 356 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 upstairs for a quiet hour with her father. Seymour 
 was up and dressed and in much the same state he 
 had been for some days perfectly quiet and gen- 
 erally rational, but showing frequent lapses of 
 memory. It was nearly four o'clock when Theo- 
 dora went downstairs and out for a walk. Fermor 
 was hard at work in his study, and Theodora was 
 not sorry for an hour or two to herself after the 
 excitement of the last few days. 
 
 She walked through the yew alley to the orna- 
 mental water, and followed the path around the 
 lake. The spring sun was on its descent and already 
 the shadows were growing long, and the birds that 
 nested in the temple at the head of the lake were fly- 
 ing about the eaves. Theodora seated herself on a 
 bench to enjoy the repose of the afternoon. In 
 another moment she heard a firm step, and Lord 
 Castlemaine's tall figure approached and he seated 
 himself by her side. There could be no question that 
 Lady Fermor and her father-in-law were at feud, 
 although Theodora maintained her defensive attitude 
 with smiling grace, and Lord Castlemaine could not 
 forget he was at war with a charming woman. He 
 knew very well that the strongest weapon Theodora 
 had was the fact that it was through Seymour's 
 money King's Lyndon had been acquired and re- 
 stored, and this weapon was one she could not use. 
 
 " I am glad that you are alone," said Lord Castle- 
 maine in his blandest manner, " as I think the time 
 has come for plain speaking. The presence of your
 
 HOSTS OF KING'S LYNDON 357 
 
 father at luncheon day before yesterday was nothing 
 more nor less than a catastrophe. You can't ask 
 people to meet and sit at the same table with a man 
 who has done time in prison. That is the simple 
 truth and you should know it. You must keep your 
 father at a safe distance and avoid having anything 
 to do with him outwardly, or you will ruin Fermor." 
 
 Lord Castlemaine expected Theodora to show 
 anger at his words. He was hardly prepared, how- 
 ever, for the hot indignation which blazed from her 
 eyes. 
 
 " How dare you ! " she cried, rising to her feet, 
 and then stopped short. Lord Castlemaine rose too. 
 He had at last made her throw away her buckler of 
 calmness. She was trembling with excitement, and 
 Lord Castlemaine followed up his advantage. 
 
 " Of course, as regards your religion," he said, 
 " I don't give a damn for anybody's bigotries, but 
 it's harming Fermor. The local newspaper on Satur- 
 day had a silly but very mischievous editorial 
 about Fermor turning Romanist, and next day it was 
 followed by an article which plainly pointed to Sey- 
 mour as an escaped convict. But there is some- 
 thing else. You may have children. Normally, I 
 would wish for an heir to this place." Lord Castle- 
 maine waved his hand around at the verdant gardens, 
 the rich park, the splendid mansion lying fair and 
 still in the afternoon glow. 
 
 " But the heir to all this will have a taint in his 
 blood. If your Fontarini child had lived, he might
 
 358 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 have proved another Pietro Fontarini. It is likely 
 that a child with the characteristics of your father 
 will inherit this place. For my part, I am not un- 
 duly particular, but the thought of your children 
 and the blood they will inherit is not very pleasant 
 to me." 
 
 As Lord Castlemaine stopped speaking, he thought 
 Theodora was about to faint, so quickly did she 
 grow pale and sink, rather than sit, upon the 
 bench. The words seemed etched in fire upon her 
 brain. She had known the agony of looking into 
 the innocent eyes of a child and wondering if the 
 soul of a felon would develop in that child. Lord 
 Castlemaine, having done the mischief, felt a kind of 
 pity for her as she sat, pale and trembling and wild- 
 eyed. But this was not a question to be settled 
 by an impulse of pity. He cared little for Fermor's 
 political future, but he hated getting into the news- 
 papers, and he had a real and intense family pride, 
 which made all he said to Theodora on the subject 
 of the future heir of King's Lyndon, have the force 
 of sincerity. 
 
 " Now," he said, sitting down by her, " you think 
 me your enemy, but I am not. I know that you are 
 in love with Fermor and Fermor is in love with you, 
 but what is called love, is, in my opinion, merely 
 a phase. It sounds well enough in poetry and some- 
 times has an historic aspect in history. But it 
 means nothing. I never allowed any woman to get 
 a hold on me. Fermor allowed a painted Jezebel,
 
 HOSTS OF KING'S LYNDON 359 
 
 the Bellenden woman, to get a very strong hold on 
 his purse, but I don't think she every had any on his 
 heart. You women never believe these things. You 
 will always cling to that superstition of love. You 
 are going mighty near to ruining Fermor with your 
 quixotism about your father and your religious fer- 
 vour and sacramental marriage and all that." 
 
 It was some minutes before Theodora spoke. Then 
 she said in a low voice: 
 
 " I thought, after Pietro Fontarini died, that I 
 should never again have any man to insult me. You 
 have insulted me grossly." 
 
 " And you will damage Fermor still more by or- 
 dering me off the premises," replied Lord Castlemaine 
 with cheerful good humour. 
 
 " I certainly shall," replied Theodora, " unless 
 you make me an apology and agree not to repeat 
 the offence." 
 
 Lord Castlemaine looked at her, his wide, handsome 
 mouth coming open in a broad grin. His eyes 
 were still fine in spite of their leer, his figure still 
 imposing in spite of hard living, hard drinking and 
 hard working. 
 
 " I daresay I have offended a huge lot of people 
 in the course of a long and ill-spent life," he said, 
 " and apologies have often been demanded of me, 
 but no one ever secured one out of me yet. How- 
 ever, in this case, considering you are my daughter- 
 in-law and remarkably attractive and very deter- 
 mined and I never know what you are going to do
 
 360 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 next in your highly original and American way of 
 managing things, I will apologise. There! I ask 
 your pardon and agree not to mention the subject 
 again, because I know you will not forget what I 
 have already said." 
 
 Lord Castlemaine walked away half laughing, 
 leaving Theodora still sitting on the bench. De- 
 spair seized her. Was she destined to bring mis- 
 fortune on all whom she loved, and if children were 
 given her, were they to carry the taint with them? 
 She earnestly longed and hoped and prayed for chil- 
 dren, but she recalled now that strange and secret 
 feeling which made itself felt in the agony of her 
 grief for her child, that at least there could be no 
 repetition of Pietro Fontarini. But from the storm 
 of emotion, one thought arose serene. She could 
 never abandon her father. 
 
 Faithfulness and devotion were not only a part 
 of her nature. They were her nature. She recalled 
 the words of Cardinal Fontarini and of Ashburton, 
 men of the highest ideals and clearest outlook, and 
 they had sustained her. While these thoughts were 
 passing through her mind, she heard Fermor calling 
 her name. 
 
 " Here I am," answered Theodora, rising and go- 
 ing toward him. They came together in the very 
 spot where they had first met as betrothed six months 
 before. Theodora's pallor and agitation were plain 
 to Fermor, and he took her hand, saying: 
 
 " What has happened? "
 
 HOSTS OF KING'S LYNDON 361 
 
 Theodora's other hand closed over Fermor's. 
 
 " I wonder," she said, " if after all, that I have 
 done you terrible injury by marrying you, and will 
 continue to do so as long as I live? I would rather 
 die than do you an injury. But when I am asked to 
 give up my father can't you understand that I 
 can't give up the best father that any child has ever 
 had, the kindest heart, the most generous man ! " 
 She stopped, and began to weep silently. 
 
 " I have not asked you to give him up, Theo- 
 dora," replied Fermor gently. " It is not in you to 
 do it, that I know very well. I will help you to bear 
 this. It would be idle to deny that the story will 
 injure us both; but we have both profited by your 
 father's generosity ; so we must stand by him." 
 
 Theodora's tearful face was uplifted, with a sad 
 smile, to Fermor's. 
 
 *' At last," she said, " I have found in you a man 
 who knows the meaning of honour."
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 TRIUMPHANT DEMOCRACY 
 
 IT is not to be supposed that Lady Susan Battle re- 
 mained quiescent while the newspapers were full of 
 paragraphs containing thinly veiled allusions to 
 Lord Fermor, to the tragedy in Seymour's life and 
 to the dangers of socialist influence on the one hand, 
 and Catholicism on the other. Lady Susan pres- 
 ently announced to Lord Castlemaine her determina- 
 tion to go down to King's Lyndon and demand that 
 Theodora cease all intercourse with her father. Lord 
 Castlemaine promptly forbade it and called her a 
 presumptuous idiot. 
 
 " I got worsted in my encounter with Lady Fer- 
 mor, and she would do you up in spite of your pur- 
 ple velvet gowns and largest brooch and longest 
 feathers," he answered. 
 
 This conversation took place in Lady Susan's own 
 drawing-room and in the presence of Joshua Battle, 
 who rarely opened his mouth in his own house or any- 
 where else. It was before luncheon and Lady Susan 
 had not yet read the morning newspaper. Mr. Bat- 
 tle silently handed it to Lord Castlemaine, who read 
 in a sonorous voice the announcement of the engage- 
 ment of Captain John Thornycroft of Croft Castle, 
 
 363
 
 TRIUMPHANT DEMOCRACY 363 
 
 Lincolnshire and the Havens, Kent, to Dorothy, only 
 daughter of the late Wescott Wyndham of New 
 York. The wedding was to take place during the 
 summer. 
 
 The blow was severe to Lady Susan. 
 
 " I consider," she said, after the first shock of 
 surprise, " that Jack Thornycroft behaved shame- 
 fully to Jane. It was just what I should expect of 
 him to marry that sensational person, who, I un- 
 derstand, is only nineteen and dresses like a dowager 
 duchess." 
 
 " Better than any dowager duchess I know," re- 
 plied Lord Castlemaine, who had never investigated 
 the subject. " My own belief is, that you will still 
 be connected with Jack Thornycroft, because Wynd- 
 ham, I can see, is dead set on marrying Jane." 
 
 At that moment, just as if it had been prear- 
 ranged, the door opened, and the footman announced 
 " Mr. Wyndham." 
 
 Wyndham entered, smiling and debonair as usual, 
 and was received timidly by Mr. Battle, icily by 
 Lady Susan and with every demonstration of cor- 
 diality by Lord Castlemaine, who had a very clear 
 notion of the object of Wyndham's visit. When 
 they were again seated, Wyndham said, smiling to 
 Mr. Battle and glancing at Lady Susan: 
 
 " I suppose I may as well make a clean breast of 
 it. I came at this informal hour, Mr. Battle, to ask 
 your consent and Lady Susan's to my marriage to 
 your daughter Jane."
 
 364 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 Joshua Battle, true to the instinct of self-preser- 
 vation, remained silent, and Lady Susan spoke with 
 chilling politeness. 
 
 " We regret very much to hear of this, as we think 
 such a marriage undesirable, and in fact quite out of 
 the question." 
 
 "Why? " innocently asked Wyndham. 
 
 Mr. Battle glanced helplessly at Lady Susan, who 
 answered promptly: 
 
 " It is not necessary for us to state our objec- 
 tions." 
 
 " I think it is," said Wyndham, earnestly. " I 
 didn't expect you to accept my proposition without 
 making any inquiry into my character, my standing, 
 my antecedents, and my ability to maintain your 
 daughter as she is accustomed to be maintained. I 
 am supplied with all those particulars, and can re- 
 fer you, besides, to the American Ambassador." 
 
 " That is unnecessary," replied Lady Susan, after 
 a freezing pause. 
 
 " As regards fortune," persisted Wyndham, " I 
 can furnish a list of banks and trust companies 
 which will prove that I can give your daughter 
 everything pertaining to her station. I am willing 
 to settle everything I have on her, and to insure my 
 life for her benefit for any amount Mr. Battle thinks 
 necessary. Her own fortune will, of course, be se- 
 cured to her." 
 
 Lady Susan looked significantly at Joshua Battle. 
 These quixotic offers, as she considered them, plainly
 
 TRIUMPHANT DEMOCRACY 365 
 
 marked Wyndham as an unprincipled adventurer. 
 She repeated, therefore, with stern emphasis: 
 
 " I can only say that Mr. Battle and I cannot con- 
 sider your proposition." 
 
 " That's all right," replied Wyndham cheerfully. 
 " I am awfully sorry not to have your consent and 
 Mr. Battle's, and I'm sure it will distress Miss Battle 
 very much, but we shall get married all the same." 
 
 All through this, Lord Castlemaine sat silent, and 
 enjoyed himself more than he had done . even at 
 Monte Carlo. He had no love for Americans, but 
 his sense of humour placed him irresistibly on 
 Wyndham's side. Besides, a girl like Jane Battle, 
 of no descent, and no particular beauty or distinc- 
 tion, with only her ten thousand pounds to her for- 
 tune, was quite good enough for an American. Lord 
 Castlemaine was too much of an artist to spoil the 
 scene by speaking. He merely sat back and 
 chuckled softly. 
 
 Suddenly, as if by a prearranged scheme, Jane 
 walked in from the next room. Wyndham rose and 
 saluted her gallantly. 
 
 " I think," he said, " it is all settled. Your father 
 and mother have refused their consent, but they will 
 probably come round in the end." 
 
 "I hope so," replied Jane, a firm note in her 
 sweet voice. 
 
 " And in cases like this," continued Wyndham, 
 " the sooner we are married the better." 
 
 " I suppose so," said Jane softly.
 
 Lady Susan, dazed and dumbfounded by what 
 was happening so rapidly, concluded that Wynd- 
 ham had been drinking, and that Jane was crazy, 
 but she managed to cry out to Wyndham : 
 
 " How dare you have the presumption to ask an 
 English girl of my step-daughter's position and for- 
 tune to marry you? " 
 
 " Well," answered Wyndham, " you see, I had 
 lots of provocation to fall in love with Miss Battle. 
 It's all her fault to be so fascinating. Some people 
 don't think English girls attractive, but I do, I can 
 tell you. Miss Battle did me up in about three 
 days." 
 
 " Mr. Battle," said Lady Susan in an awful voice, 
 " please to ring the bell." 
 
 Joshua Battle obediently got up and rang the 
 bell and returned to his seat. Then Lady Susan 
 said sternly: 
 
 " Jane, leave the room." 
 
 But Jane did not leave the room. Wyndham 
 went over to her, took her hand and said, looking 
 Lady Susan squarely in the eye: 
 
 " This is a perfect outrage. Miss Battle is 
 twenty-three years of age, and to be ordered out 
 of the room like a child is preposterous." 
 
 The footman having appeared, Lady Susan said: 
 
 " Show Mr. Wyndham out." 
 
 " Certainly," replied Wyndham coolly, " but when 
 I go, Miss Battle goes with me. My sister is wait- 
 ing in the motor outside. Miss Battle can remain
 
 TRIUMPHANT DEMOCRACY 367 
 
 with her until I can arrange for our marriage to- 
 morrow morning. Do you think I would leave the 
 woman I love in a house where at twenty-three years 
 of age, she can be ordered about like a servant? " 
 
 Wyndham held out his hand to Jane, who calmly 
 put hers within it. 
 
 " I hardly think," said Jane tremulously, " that 
 mamma means to be unkind. In England, mothers 
 often send their grown daughters out of the room." 
 
 " You bet they don't in America," replied Wynd- 
 ham. warmly, " and I don't intend to stand by and 
 see the girl I love treated in any such manner. More 
 than that, I could not respect a woman who allowed 
 herself to be coerced in this manner. So, Jane, it is 
 up to you now to take me or leave me on the spot." 
 
 " Most interesting crisis at which I ever assisted," 
 murmured Lord Castlemaine, unable to restrain his 
 enjoyment longer. 
 
 Tears came into Jane's pretty eyes. She glanced 
 at Lady Susan, who was boiling with wrath, and then 
 Jane looked at Wyndham. 
 
 " Dear mamma," she said, putting her hand in 
 Wyndham's, " I know you don't mean to be unkind. 
 It is only that Mr. Wyndham is not accustomed to 
 English ways. But I love him and mean to marry 
 him, and I must do what he says." 
 
 For the first time since Joshua Battle married 
 an earl's daughter, he spoke for himself. 
 
 " My dear Jane," he said feebly, " you must see 
 the scandalous nature of what you are contemplat-
 
 368 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 ing. To leave my house with this young man would 
 be to blast your reputation forever." 
 
 Wyndham's dark, handsome face was red with 
 anger as, still holding Jane by the hand, he walked 
 up to Mr. Battle and said with concentrated rage: 
 
 "You ought to be ashamed of yourself to use 
 such words in connection with your daughter. If 
 you were not an old man, I would kick you full of 
 holes this minute. Your daughter couldn't do any- 
 thing that was not modest and proper she would 
 not know how. She couldn't be in any better com- 
 pany than with my sister. When she is my wife, I 
 shall demand an apology from you for your lan- 
 guage to her to-day, before I permit her to hold any 
 communication with you." 
 
 If the dome of St. Paul's had suddenly collapsed, 
 or the Nelson column had melted into thin air, Lady 
 Susan and Mr. Battle could not have been more as- 
 tounded. Lord Castlemaine, however, retained his 
 composure and remarked with a cheerful grin: 
 
 " Susan, you are beaten all to rags, for the first 
 time in your life. The girl is going with Wyndham 
 and it would be making an awful row and you will 
 have a harder time than ever in marrying off the 
 other girls. You had better compromise." 
 
 " The only compromise I will accept," shouted 
 Wyndham, now thoroughly incensed, " is to be mar- 
 ried next week at St. George's, Hanover Square, 
 with all the flummery that can be crowded into it. 
 I hate a show wedding as much as any man, but the
 
 only terms I will accept from Lady Susan and Mr. 
 Battle is to have them give their daughter a wed- 
 ding as if she were marrying the eldest son of a 
 duke." 
 
 " That is what Susan has been after all the time," 
 remarked Lord Castlemaine pleasantly. " She 
 could have married these girls with their ten thou- 
 sand pounds apiece, a dozen times over, but she 
 wanted to make a great stroke, and she can't do it, 
 particularly with the American competition. You 
 may as well knock under, Susan." 
 
 " I will never consent," gasped Lady Susan, feel- 
 ing as if the ground were slipping from under her 
 feet. 
 
 " All right," responded Wyndham, who saw the 
 game in his own hands and who had recovered some- 
 thing of his good humour. "Get your hat, Jane, 
 and you can send after your things. If they won't 
 let you have them, it is no matter. You can get an 
 outfit a good deal better perhaps." 
 
 " Pray, uncle," said Jane, more tears coming in 
 her eyes, " persuade mamma and papa to consent and 
 let me be married from home." 
 
 " There shouldn't be any occasion to persuade," 
 said Lord Castlemaine. " People should learn to ac- 
 cept the inevitable." 
 
 Lady Susan turned her head helplessly from side 
 to side. Lord Castlemaine, upon whom she relied to 
 stem the tide of Americans, had gone over to the 
 other side, whether from pure perversity or from
 
 370 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 sincere conviction, she could not tell, but she was be- 
 ginning to see that matters had passed out of her 
 own hands. 
 
 " If my daughter mil persist in this outrageous 
 marriage " she began. 
 
 "Stop!" cried Wyndham, "that word can't be 
 used in connection with Miss Battle's marriage to 
 anybody. You may say what you like about me, but 
 if a disrespectful word is said about Miss Battle, 
 there will be trouble ! " 
 
 Lady Susan was quite pale. Joshua Battle sat 
 limp and unresisting in his chair. Presently, Lady 
 Susan spoke. 
 
 " The wedding, however, must be strictly simple 
 and private." 
 
 " No ! " answered Wyndham firmly, " it must be 
 extremely conspicuous. St. George's, Hanover 
 Square, ten bridesmaids, full choral service and a 
 Bishop to perform the ceremony. I mean to have all 
 that's coming to me. The motor is outside, Lady 
 Susan, and it is now or never." 
 
 Here Joshua Battle interposed with a feeble 
 hand. 
 
 " It would be impossible, Mr. Wyndham," he said, 
 *' to arrange for such a wedding as you describe, 
 within a week." 
 
 "A fortnight, then," said Wyndham, 
 
 " This is Friday ! " cried Lady Susan. 
 
 " And it has been an unlucky day for you," inter- 
 jected Lord Castlemaine.
 
 " To-morrow, two weeks, then," said Wyndham. 
 " The announcement goes in the newspapers to-mor- 
 row morning." 
 
 He took out his note book and wrote out rapidly, 
 " A marriage has been arranged and will take place 
 shortly between Archibald Wyndham, Esquire, of 
 New York, and Jane, eldest daughter of Mr. and 
 Lady Susan Battle, of Queen's Gate and Brindley 
 Place, Holmead, Cheshire." 
 
 " The game is up, Susan," said Lord Castlemaine. 
 
 " It will simply ruin the prospects of the other 
 girls," replied Lady Susan with the accent of calm 
 despair. 
 
 " No it won't," answered Lord Castlemaine. 
 " Decent-looking girls, with ten thousand pounds 
 each, can get married. If you will just get that no- 
 tion of eldest sons of dukes and earls out of your 
 head, these girls will do very well. You threw them 
 at Fermor's head from the time they were out of the 
 nursery, and I told you all the time it was perfectly 
 useless." 
 
 " I only wished to do my duty by my husband's 
 daughters," replied Lady Susan, bursting into tears 
 of chagrin. 
 
 Jane, who had the best heart in the world and who 
 saw that beneath Lady Susan's purple velvet gown 
 and large turquoise brooch, was really a good heart, 
 went up to her and kissed her. 
 
 " I know, mamma, you have tried to do a good 
 part by all of us. We appreciate it, but I assure
 
 372 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 you I would rather marry Mr. Wyndham than any 
 man I ever saw. I don't care for rank. I want to 
 be happy." 
 
 Lady Susan did not know whether she was dream- 
 ing or awake. She seemed to be in a sort of night- 
 mare. 
 
 When Wyndham went off after shaking hands 
 cordially with them all, Jane suggested that they 
 must go that very afternoon and see about the 
 wedding gown. Lady Susan nearly fainted. Never- 
 theless, she went. Two weeks was a fearfully 
 short time to arrange for a wedding even in Eng- 
 land, where marriage follows engagements rapidly. 
 
 Eventually, as Wyndham had stipulated for a 
 show wedding and insisted upon every particular, 
 the time was extended to three weeks. Bridesmaids 
 had to be asked, and as Lady Susan insisted they 
 should be girls of rank, a little time was necessary. 
 Lord and Lady Fermor entered warmly into the 
 plans for the wedding. It was arranged that after 
 a short honeymoon, the bride and bridegroom should 
 sail for New York with Dot. A fortnight later, 
 Jack Thornycroft would follow, and the second 
 wedding in the Wyndham family was to take place 
 in New York. 
 
 Lady Susan, whose spirit was by no means wholly 
 crushed, ventured to suggest to Dot that she was 
 giving herself unnecessary airs in requiring Jack 
 Thornycroft to follow her to America to be married. 
 To this, Dot replied coolly:
 
 " If he doesn't come after me, he can't get me, 
 that's all." 
 
 This revolutionary sentiment -shocked and dis- 
 gusted Lady Susan. It would never have been ut- 
 tered by one of her own brood of step-daughters, and 
 they certainly were entitled to as much consideration 
 as unknown and extraordinary young persons. But 
 Lady Susan found out, as Lord Castlemaine and 
 even Lord Fermor had, American women forced a 
 recognition of their own sovereignty in all the crises 
 of domestic life. 
 
 The marriage of Wyndham and Jane Battle was 
 really a beautiful and brilliant wedding, and lighted 
 by the glow of true affection. Lady Susan was 
 slightly comforted by the thought that it was some- 
 thing to get a daughter married, anyhow, and bore 
 herself with an air of dignified martyrdom. Dot, 
 at the head of the bridesmaids, was the tallest, as 
 well as the handsomest, of them, and had an air of 
 imperial grace as she swept up the aisle. The men 
 all justified Thorny croft. He was one of the great 
 matches of the season, but he had fallen a prey, a 
 captive, as so many other good matches do, to the 
 bow and spear of this radiant Diana. The English 
 girls sighed as they looked at Dot and won- 
 dered how she did it. She had not the splen- 
 did fortune of Lady Fermor and many other 
 American women who made great marriages in 
 England. None of these American girls rode 
 or shot or were golf champions or were crack
 
 374 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 tennis players or drove their own motors in mo- 
 tor races. They simply wore fetching clothes and 
 sat and smiled at Englishmen, and were saucy 
 to them, and the thing was done. It was distressing 
 to Lady Susan that the Castlemaine family and con- 
 nections should become a party to the aggrandise- 
 ment of Americans, but she laid it all upon the guilty 
 head of Edward VII. 
 
 " It is the King's doing," she declared solemnly 
 to Lord Castlemaine, when the wedding reception 
 was over. " I consider the King as fully responsible 
 for this marriage as if he had directly commanded 
 it. I only hope the day may not come when he will 
 endure great remorse at the manner in which he has 
 blasted the hopes of so many English mothers and 
 daughters." 
 
 " You mean," replied Lord Castlemaine, " that 
 you hope that day will come. But it never will. The 
 only thing for you to do, Susan, is to stop praying 
 for the King and royal family at the morning 
 service."
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 THE DAWN 
 
 THE spring passed and the summer was at hand. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Wyndham had sailed away, Jack 
 Thornycroft had followed and returned with his 
 bride, and the London newspapers were full of the 
 gowns and doings of the tall and beautiful Mrs. Jack 
 Thornycroft. The same newspapers chronicled much 
 concerning Lord and Lady Fermor. 
 
 The Fermors went up to London for a short sea- 
 son and opened Seymour's magnificent house in 
 Queen's Gate. A man in the beginning of his par- 
 liamentary service usually remained in the back- 
 ground, but a circumstance connected with his own 
 division advanced Fermor with more than usual rap- 
 idity. He possessed all of Lord Castlemaine's pow- 
 ers as a debater, with a degree of prudence and tact 
 entirely at variance with Lord Castlemaine's reck- 
 lessness and inconsistency. Fermor, who in his own 
 interest spoke once during the session, made an ex- 
 traordinary impression. The Opposition, seeing that 
 they had to deal with a man likely to become for- 
 midable, made every effort to disconcert him, but 
 Fermor defended himself with the address of a sea- 
 soned debater. Within ten minutes after Fermor's 
 opening words, the Opposition benches began to fill 
 
 875
 
 376 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 up, the Ministerialists soon followed and it was plain 
 that they had acquired a man worth having. Lord 
 Castlemaine's reputation for great abilities helped 
 Fermor, but Fermor was his own best helper. 
 
 The speech was meant to be a brief one, but it 
 became a running debate in which Fermor was al- 
 lowed to win his spurs against half a dozen clever 
 opponents, and it lasted much longer than was an- 
 ticipated. When he took his seat, members crowded 
 around him, congratulating him, and Fermor felt 
 that glow which attends a man on his first success 
 in the arena for which he had longed since his boy- 
 hood. In the ladies' gallery, Theodora, with a 
 proudly beating heart, witnessed her husband's tri- 
 umph. 
 
 When he went out of the House, he found Theo- 
 dora waiting for him in an open carriage. It was 
 about six o'clock on a lovely June evening and the 
 pinnacles of the great pile of the Houses of Parlia- 
 ment were reflected in the river which ran, in the 
 old Homeric phrase, wine-coloured under the glowing 
 sun. It happened to be the anniversary of the meet- 
 ing of Theodora and Fermor at the Prime Minister's 
 reception, and Theodora, after congratulating Fer- 
 mor warmly and tenderly on his parliamentary tri- 
 umph, spoke of the date. It was indeed one of those 
 every-day miracles that do not surprise merely be- 
 cause they happen so often, one of the familiar mys- 
 teries with which this singular life is encompassed. 
 A year ago, they were each at the entrance of an
 
 THE DAWN 377 
 
 unknown Paradise. Theodora's heart, she thought, 
 was in the grave of her dead child. She had looked 
 so long in the faces of shame and sorrow that she 
 thought she would never again recognise honour and 
 peace. God Himself Deemed to be estranged. Now, 
 how great the magic change ! Love, honour, hap- 
 piness, peace of soul, were hers. There were disturb- 
 ing elements in her life, such as the catastrophe of 
 her father, but a woman secure in the fortress of 
 honour and guarded by love need not be afraid. So, 
 with Fermor how kindly had Fate smiled upon him ! 
 That June day a year he had, it is true, made up 
 his mind to cast off the shackles of sloth and the 
 influence of an evil woman. But it was as if the first 
 look into Theodora's spiritual face had waked the 
 spell of regeneration which Ashburton's talk, under 
 the sky of the June midnight, had only confirmed. 
 But one does not get rid of the evil things in life all 
 at once, any more than cutting off a noisome weed 
 destroys it forever. As Fermor sat back in the car- 
 riage, admiring his wife's delicate beauty, and listen- 
 ing, with laughing deprecation at her anticipations 
 of glory for him, another open carriage drove by 
 them, going as they were, toward the Buckingham 
 Gate entrance to the Park. In this carriage sat Mrs. 
 Bellenden and her husband. Something in the mu- 
 tual sullenness of their air gave them the appear- 
 ance of jailer and prisoner. A transformation had 
 occurred in the dull, honest English squire. Bellen- 
 den's easy, good-natured, handsome, stupid face was
 
 378 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 sharply watchful. His eye, turned on his wife, was 
 menacing. Nothing more contrary to his easy coun- 
 trified habits could be imagined than this afternoon 
 parade in the Park. Mrs. Bellenden, painted and 
 powdered, looked ghastly in the clear and loVely 
 light. She no longer affected the sensational mode 
 of dress which once suited her spectacular beauty. 
 A sombre gown, a middle-aged hat, made her paint 
 and powder grotesque. As the carriages came 
 abreast, a passing omnibus halted them both. Fer- 
 mor raised his hat to Mrs. Bellenden. Instead of 
 returning his bow, she glanced at her husband. Bel- 
 lenden caught her wrist in his grasp, and looking 
 Fermor full in the face, call out to the coach- 
 man: 
 
 " Drive on and get out of this infernal crowd." 
 Fermor's face flushed deeply. He had never made 
 full confession to Theodora concerning Mrs. Bellen- 
 den, feeling it the part of a gentleman to save this 
 woman such rags and remnants of reputation which 
 might be hers. It was unnecessary then ; Theodora's 
 quick eye and nimble intelligence took in the whole 
 scene at a glance. She knew enough of what had 
 happened to interpret the rest. Her face, too, grew 
 scarlet. Both remained silent. When they reached 
 the Serpentine, Theodora asked Fermor to walk with 
 her a little by the water. It was comparatively soli- 
 tary there, and no one recognised them. After a 
 while, Fermor spoke. 
 
 " I ask your forgiveness, Theodora, but never will
 
 THE DAWN 379 
 
 I have to ask it again. If only I had met you be- 
 fore!" 
 
 Theodora turned her dark and pensive eyes on her 
 husband. 
 
 " I try to put the past out of my mind. Do you 
 the same. After all, we only began to live when we 
 met each other." 
 
 A haggard and wretched woman, sternly guarded 
 by a jealous and furious man, saw, from a distance, 
 Lord and Lady Fermor strolling like lovers by the 
 water's edge, and watching the sinking sun, as the 
 long lances of light upon the velvet grass grew 
 longer and the ruby glow of the bright water 
 changed to emerald and amethyst. It seemed to 
 Fermor and Theodora as if every day opened to each 
 a new chamber of treasures in the soul of the other. 
 
 The Fermors' season in London was short, but 
 brilliant. Theodora's mind was easier than she had 
 imagined it possible concerning her father. He was 
 no worse in health, and apparently perfectly happy 
 at Barleywood, under Reyburn's watchful and in- 
 telligent care. Seymour's mind was by no means 
 free from lapses, but these lapses were unimportant 
 and seemed to be growing less. The thing which 
 Theodora dreaded most did not occur that Sey- 
 mour did not develop the design at which he had 
 several times hinted, of returning to America and 
 serving out the remaining three months of his sen- 
 tence. Wyndham, on his return to America, sounded 
 the authorities, and, informing them of Seymour's
 
 380 THE MARRIAGE O* THEODORA 
 
 blameless life and decaying, intellect, received as- 
 surances that no effort would be made to disturb him 
 in his last days. This gave great peace to Theo- 
 dora and to Fermor. Theodora's method concerning 
 her father worked admirably. She maintained the 
 closest intercourse with him, but in no way forced 
 him on any one else, not even Fermor. Fermor, 
 however, showed the utmost kindness and considera- 
 tion and whenever his work permitted went to Barley- 
 wood with Theodora. Ashburton proved, as ever, 
 the best of friends, and frequently managed to spend 
 a few hours with Seymour, to whom he had become 
 sincerely attached. 
 
 As a reward for Fermor's kindness and complais- 
 ance, Theodora chose to consider that Lord Castle- 
 maine had made her an ample apology, and treated 
 him with perfect courtesy. Lord Castlemaine him- 
 self never could find it in his heart to be steadily an- 
 gry with a charming woman, and assumed an atti- 
 tude of good-humoured indulgence toward his daugh- 
 ter-in-law. Theodora readily and with dignity took 
 her place among the great political hostesses, and her 
 social career was distinguished by the same grace- 
 ful individuality which marked everything she did. 
 She abandoned the London fashion of asking a thou- 
 sand persons to fill the space which would only com- 
 fortably accommodate five hundred; carefully she 
 avoided the traditional London crush which consists 
 of one tightly wedged stream of humanity, painfully 
 toiling up a grand staircase and jammed against
 
 THE DAWN 381 
 
 another stream of people toiling painfully down- 
 ward. Lord Castlemaine offered Castlemaine House 
 as an adjunct to the Fermor's house, and Theodora 
 electrified him by her American initiative, in propos- 
 ing that a temporary archway be cut for the season 
 between the drawing-room floors of the two houses. 
 
 " It can be closed, you know, when we leave 
 town," she said. 
 
 Lord Castlemaine stared, roared and slapped his 
 knee. 
 
 " Capital ! capital ! " he cried. " It will drive my 
 sister Susan crazy ! " 
 
 So, indeed, it almost did. Lady Susan would no 
 more have suggested such a thing than she would 
 have suggested cutting off Lord Castlemaine's ears 
 and attaching them to her bonnet, or proposing that 
 she should be chained to him for the rest of the sea- 
 son. However, as she painfully reflected, the earth 
 and the fulness thereof belonged to the Americans, 
 and she could only take refuge in predicting awful 
 retribution on the King who had made such things 
 * possible. 
 
 A magnificent archway was therefore cut between 
 the drawing-room floor of Castlemaine House and 
 the Fermors' house, which was a part of Theodora's 
 dowry. The. result was a double suite of rooms so 
 large that no such thing as a crush was possible. 
 The very first of Theodora's evening parties showed 
 the excellence of the scheme, and Lord Castlemaine, 
 quick at recognising things, saw in it a remarkable
 
 382 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 instance of the ingenious American mind, which is 
 at once imaginative and practical. 
 
 At this first evening party the guests entered 
 through the Fermor mansion, and departed by way 
 of Castlemaine House. Lady Fermor, standing in 
 the archway at the head of the stairs, which was em- 
 bowered in palms and flowers, could see all her guests 
 without the crowding and huddling which makes the 
 hostess of a great London house an object of pity 
 at a reception. The women's gowns were not wrecked 
 nor were the men's toes trodden upon. This was a 
 great gain and glory for Theodora. She was warmly 
 congratulated by her old friends, the Marsacs and 
 the Thornycrofts, but most of all, by Lord Castle- 
 maine himself. Fermor's quiet gratification was 
 delicious to Theodora. It looked as if it might be 
 possible that, after all, Theodora would be a help in- 
 stead of a hindrance to her husband in his public 
 career. 
 
 In July, the Fermors returned to King's Lyndon. 
 There had been a cessation of newspaper paragraphs 
 about him and it would seem as if Theodora were 
 gradually overcoming whatever disadvantages her 
 father, her religion or her nationality might have 
 been to Fermor.
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 IN THE MORNING GLOW 
 
 AT King's Lyndon that autumn there were no splen- 
 did parties, as Theodora's health required complete 
 repose. In all her after life, if she had been asked 
 to name the happiest period, it would have been that 
 quiet autumn and early winter. She had the mys- 
 terious hopes and joys of coming motherhood. The 
 life of repose and quiet companionship with Fermor 
 she liked above all things, and of which she knew her 
 portion would, in view of Fermor's public life, be 
 necessarily scanty. She saw only her few intimate 
 friends, which were also Fermor's. When she went 
 in the dawn of the sunny autumn morning to service 
 in the little church, seven miles away, or when in the 
 veiled brightness of the afternoon she stopped to go 
 in and pray before the little altar where the sanctu- 
 ary lamp swung, Fermor was always with her to 
 take care of her. 
 
 What he felt or thought at this time she never 
 asked, believing that what was passing in Fermor's 
 soul was between that soul and the Maker of it. Fer- 
 mor's heart and life belonged to Theodora, but she 
 left his soul free, even from the encroachments of her 
 love. 
 
 There was always much for both to do in the morn- 
 
 383
 
 384 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 ings. In the afternoon if the sun shone, Theodora 
 strolled around the lake and, sitting in the temple, 
 would indulge her memory and her imagination. She 
 was glad sometimes to be alone, so much had hap- 
 pened in the last year and a half; such vast change 
 in her life, that she needed a little time to adjust 
 herself to it. Two years before, she had been a 
 broken-hearted creature who thought that life was 
 over for her. She had not been able then to accept 
 any religion, and rebelled against the thought that 
 God was a merciful Father. Then quickly but quietly, 
 as fate always moves, everything changed she had 
 consented to begin a new life in the great London 
 house at her father's earnest entreaty, and it seemed 
 as soon as she gave up her own will and tried to for- 
 get her griefs and injuries in living for others, that 
 the sun had burst upon her life. She had found her- 
 self, to her surprise, a wife, and a happy one. Her 
 religious doubts melted away and her mind was 
 at peace. The storms and humiliations that had 
 threatened the first days of her marriage, had van- 
 ished before the light. The dream of a new joy cast 
 a golden glow upon her path. The only cloud in 
 her sky was her father's condition. But at least he 
 had lived to see her happiness, and it was better that 
 he should fade gently out of life, as he was fading, 
 than that he should live to suffer. If only he could 
 last until she could lay her child in his arms Theo- 
 dora asked no more. 
 
 And this was granted her. In January her child
 
 IN THE MORNING GLOW 385 
 
 was born ; a beautiful boy without a blemish from 
 head to foot. Fermor had the Englishman's deep 
 and intense satisfaction in the birth of an heir, and 
 even Lord Castlemaine condescended to be pleased. 
 Seymour's delight was pathetic, and when in the 
 early March days Theodora could come to him once 
 more bringing with her the beautiful man-child, Sey- 
 mour seemed to have reached that point of peace 
 and happiness to the old which points the way to the 
 Door of the Other House. 
 
 In looking into the dark, intelligent eyes of her 
 child, Theodora, to her profound joy, was able to 
 drive from her mind the thought which had haunted 
 her concerning her dead child that he might in- 
 herit some evil, some weakness, from another strain 
 of blood. Great as was her devotion to her father, 
 she could not wish her child to be wholly like him; 
 Seymour was too mild, too gentle, too much under 
 the mastery of his affections, and Theodora felt, with 
 the tender superstition of a woman, that her boy 
 would have her father's goodness of heart, combined 
 with Fermor's intellect and strength of character. 
 
 In the early spring, Seymour took to his invalid's 
 chair and only left his bedroom for a sheltered place 
 on the porch when the sun shone at mid-day. 
 
 One afternoon in April, Fermor accompanied 
 Theodora upon her daily visit to Barleywood. With 
 them was the child in the hands of his nurse. It was 
 Reyburn's only grievance in life that it was not 
 hers to attend the child wholly. But she felt that
 
 386 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 Seymour would not much longer require her faith- 
 ful ministrations, and then she would once more re- 
 turn to King's Lyndon. 
 
 The day was beautiful and bright and Seymour 
 seemed suddenly to have had the wine of life poured 
 into his shattered frame. His voice was strong, his, 
 eye clear and, what was most amazing, his memory 
 seemed to have recovered its full force. 
 
 As they sat on the sunny porch after Reyburn had 
 fondled the boy and the child had been taken away, 
 Seymour turned suddenly to Fermor and said: 
 
 " When I am gone, I want you to take possession 
 of a certain writing-desk of which I have given the 
 key to Reyburn, and in it you will find a letter ad- 
 dressed to Theodora which you must give her. I de- 
 sire you to take charge of it because I know that at 
 that time my daughter's grief will be such that she 
 may not be able to attend to this as promptly as I 
 wish." 
 
 Fermor gave his promise, and Theodora, smiling 
 and taking her father's hand, said: 
 
 " I think, dear papa, if you improve like this, it 
 will be many long years before that letter reaches 
 me." 
 
 Seymour looked at her with the peculiar and ap- 
 pealing expression of the eye which had always been 
 his characteristic. 
 
 " I think I shall go soon," he said, " and remem- 
 ber this, that beyond leaving you and the boy and 
 the kind friends like Lord Fermor, I have not the
 
 IN THE MORNING GLOW 387 
 
 least objection to taking the long journey. I feel 
 as if the carriage were at the door and I should not 
 keep it waiting." 
 
 During their whole visit not the slightest lapse 
 of memory occurred on Seymour's part. He talked 
 pleasantly with Fermor, fondled the boy tenderly, 
 but his last words, his last kiss, were for Theodora. 
 
 After she had gone down the steps and was wav- 
 ing her hand to him, he suddenly rose from his in- 
 valid chair, which he had not left for many weeks, and 
 walked feebly to the steps and held out his arms once 
 more. Theodora ran and led him back to his chair 
 and made him promise her that he would not attempt 
 to leave it again without someone to assist him. 
 Then, with an overflowing tenderness, she said good- 
 bye to him. 
 
 That night at midnight a summons came for 
 Theodora and Fermor Seymour was dying. 
 
 It was but a short drive through the shadowy 
 stretches of the park and along the white highroad 
 to the small house at Barleywood. Dr. Rolfe met 
 Theodora and Fermor at the door. 
 
 " You can go in," he said ; " his mind is perfectly 
 clear, but he will hardly last until the morning." 
 
 Fermor's arm helped Theodora up the stair. The 
 shock of pain in the midst of her halcyon days had 
 unnerved her. They found Seymour propped up in 
 bed, his eye and mind as clear as ever in his life, but 
 with the unmistakable look of the man who knows 
 himself to be standing on the brink of the farther
 
 388 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 world. Theodora had meant to be calm, but all at 
 once her courage forsook her; she laid her head on 
 her father's pillow, put her arms about him and 
 burst into a passion of tears. Seymour smiled faintly. 
 Neither the love of husband nor of child had made 
 the least alteration in Theodora's devotion to him. 
 
 " You must be calm," he said feebly, " if you love 
 me, because I have something to tell you. Some- 
 thing only for you and Lord Fermor to hear." 
 
 Reyburn with instinctive delicacy quietly left the 
 room and closed the door. When she was gone, 
 Seymour said in a voice, weak and often faltering, 
 but perfectly intelligible: 
 
 " It is something that a stronger man would have 
 told you long ago, but I am not a strong man I 
 never was. I was too afraid of losing even the least 
 
 atom of your affection " Seymour stopped, as if 
 
 gathering strength to continue, and Theodora, like 
 a true daughter, said: 
 
 " Dear, dear papa, wait until morning to tell me 
 what you wish me to know." 
 
 " I shall not be here in the morning," replied Sey- 
 mour calmly. Whether he were a strong man or not, 
 he faced death as coolly as any hero might. Then 
 he continued: 
 
 " Theodora, you think perhaps, because you have 
 a child, that no one can love a child so well as its 
 father and mother. That is not true. No father 
 ever loved a child more dearly than I love you, and 
 yet and yet it is not a blood tie between us."
 
 IN THE MORNING GLOW 389 
 
 Theodora drew back, startled into calmness. 
 Neither she nor Fermor, standing beside her, doubted 
 that Seymour was perfectly himself; his eye, that 
 unmistakable witness, had a clearness of intelligence 
 that confirmed his words. Seymour continued, stop- 
 ping often, but never losing the thread of thought 
 or speech. 
 
 " I have not the strength to tell you all you will 
 find it in the letter in my desk, and all the proofs 
 are with it. Your father is the man I killed by the 
 only blow I ever struck in anger in my life. I found 
 out that he had a child you, my Theodora. He 
 was estranged from his family, and my blow left his 
 child a friendless and helpless orphan. I swore to 
 devote my life to that child, and in this hour I can 
 call God to witness that I have done it. I have 
 done it." 
 
 Seymour's eyes were fixed on Theodora's face 
 it was as if he invoked God's justice and mercy for 
 himself as he spoke. 
 
 Theodora drew back with a sudden start. Sey- 
 mour seemed to think it meant repulsion. 
 
 " Perhaps it might have been better managed," 
 he said humbly, struggling with an ever-increasing 
 weakness. " Perhaps it would have been better if 
 you had never been known as my child but Theo- 
 dora I loved you so well I had not the strength 
 when you called me father you had never known 
 your own father." 
 
 Seymour made a faint motion to dry the tears
 
 390 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 that were dropping on his face, but the weakness 
 of death was upon him. Theodora could only throw 
 herself upon her knees by him, and wiping his ejes 
 with her handkerchief, put her arms about him and 
 cry: 
 
 " My father ! My dear, dear father ! " 
 
 A smile shone upon Seymour's face, which seemed 
 glorified with a perfect peace. 
 
 Then his eyes suddenly lost their look of in- 
 telligence and concentration. His mind, nerved 
 for the last effort, finally lost its way and wandered 
 amid the deeps and shallows that lead into the un- 
 known and uncharted seas. After a moment or 
 two of distress, he suddenly said to Theodora, in a 
 strong and pleasant voice: 
 
 " I will not say good-night, my dear, as I want to 
 see you dressed in your white gown for the ball, be- 
 fore I sleep. I always sleep better for seeing you the 
 last thing " 
 
 And the soul of Seymour, all weakness and all 
 strength, all human and pitiful and loving, passed 
 to its account before that merciful God to whom he 
 had ever offered the sacrifice of a contrite and hum- 
 ble heart. 
 
 
 
 When Theodora and Fermor reached King's Lyn- 
 don, and stood alone together on the terrace, it was 
 that mysterious hour which is neither night nor day, 
 neither darkness nor light. A melancholy moon 
 hung low in a haggard sky ; the stars had flickered
 
 IN THE MORNING GLOW 391 
 
 out, and the dark earth, plunging through the black 
 abyss of space, breathlessly awaited the miracle of 
 the dawning. 
 
 " Let us not go in yet," said Theodora. She 
 looked so wan and sad that Fermor was alarmed for 
 her, and replied: 
 
 "Do you not wish to see the child?" 
 
 '" No," she said, " you are enough for me now." 
 
 Fermor put his arm about her with a new and 
 deeper rapture. Neither the child in his rosy sleep, 
 nor the dead man, lying in the meekness of death, nor 
 the influence of any mind or soul could come between 
 him and Theodora. Suddenly she began to weep 
 silently. " I know," she said, " it is a relief to you 
 
 that our child is not has not " She stopped, 
 
 and Fermor understood what she meant. There was 
 no taint in the blood of their child. 
 
 " But he was my father," she cried. " I was the 
 child of his soul, if not his Wood." Then she grew 
 composed, and her pale, distressed face became illu- 
 mined; her colour returned, her eyes resumed their 
 gentle stare with a soft splendour. 
 
 " And I shall see my father again," she said. 
 " Now, I know for the first time what it is to believe, 
 to trust, to hope all things. Look ! Look ! See the 
 sunrise ! " 
 
 At that moment the sky was suddenly flooded with 
 opaline light. The wind of dawning rushed from 
 the far spaces of the sun and brought with it a 
 golden glory, a crimson splendour, that enveloped the
 
 392 THE MARRIAGE OF THEODORA 
 
 earth. From the border of the lake that gleamed 
 with light, rose a lark, singing rapturously. It was 
 quickly lost to sight in the blue sky, but its song 
 floated downward like the trickling of a fountain. 
 The ecstasy of the morning penetrated the hearts of 
 Theodora and Fermor. All things proclaimed, not 
 death, but immortal life. 
 
 THE END
 
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 THE KNIGHTS OF THE HORSESHOE. A tradition- 
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 Dr. Wm. A. Caruthers. Cloth, 12mo. Four page illustra- 
 tions by J. Watson Davis. Price, $1.00. 
 
 Many will hail with delight the re-publication of this rare and justly 
 famous story of early American colonial life and old-time Virginian 
 hospitality. 
 
 Much that is charmingly interesting will be found in this tale that so 
 faithfully depicts early American colonial life, and also here is found all 
 the details of the founding of the Tramontane Order, around which has 
 ever been such a delicious flavor of romance. 
 
 Early customs, much love making, plantation life, politics, intrigues, and 
 finally that wonderful march across the mountains which resulted in the 
 discovery and conquest of the fair Valley of Virginia. A rare book filled 
 with a delicious flavor of romance. 
 
 BY BERWEN BANKS. A Romance of Welsh Life. By 
 Allen Raine. Cloth, 12mo. Four page illustrations by J. 
 Watson Davis. Price $1.00. 
 
 It is a tender and beautiful romance of the idyllic. A charming picture 
 of life in a Wefsh seaside village. It is something of a prose-poem, true, 
 tender and graceful. 
 
 For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpa : d on receipt of 
 price by the publishers, A. L. BURT COMPANY, 52-58 
 Duane St., New York.
 
 A series of romances containing several of the old favor- 
 ites in the field of historical fiction, replete with powerful 
 romances of love and diplomacy that excel in thrilling and 
 absorbing interest. 
 
 ROB OF THE BOWL. A Story of the Early Days of 
 Maryland. By John P. Kennedy. Cloth, 12mo. Four page 
 illustrations by J. Watson Davis. Price, $1.00. 
 
 This story Is an authentic exposition of the manners and customs dur- 
 ing Lord Baltimore's rule. The greater portion of the action takes place 
 in St. Mary's the original capital of the State. 
 
 The quaint character of Kob, the loss of whose legs was supplied by a 
 wooden bowl strapped to his thighs, his misfortunes and mother wit, far 
 outshine those fair to look upon. Pirates and smugglers did Rob consort 
 with for gain, and it was to him that Blanche Werden owed her life and 
 her happiness, as the author has told us in such an enchanting manner. 
 
 As a series of pictures of early colonial life in Maryland, "Rob of the 
 Bowl" has no equal. The story is full of splendid action, with a charming 
 love story, and a plot that never looseria the grip of its interest to its last 
 page. 
 
 TICONDEROGA. A Story of Early Frontier Life in the 
 Mohawk Valley. By G. P. R. James. Cloth, 12mo. Four 
 page illustrations by J. Watson Davis. Price, $1.00. 
 
 The setting of the story is decidedly more picturesque than any ever 
 evolved by Cooper. The story is located on the frontier of New York 
 State. The principal characters in the story include an English gentleman, 
 his beautiful daughter, Lord Howe, and certain Indian sachems belonging 
 to the Five Nations, and the story ends with the Battle of Ticonderoga. 
 
 The character of Captain Brooks, who voluntarily decides to sacrifice 
 his own life in order to save the son of the Englishman, is not among the 
 least of the attractions of this story, which holds the attention of the readsr 
 even to the last page. 
 
 Interwoven with the plot is the Indian "blood" law, which demands & 
 life for a life, whether it be that of the murderer or one of his race. A 
 more charming story of mingled love and adventure has never been written 
 than "Ticonderoga." 
 
 MARY DERWENT. A tale of the Wyoming Valley hi 
 1778. By Mrs. Ann S. Stephens. Coth, 12mo. Four illustra- 
 tions by J. Watson Davis. Price, $1.00. 
 
 The scene of this fascinating story of early frontier life is laid in the 
 Valley of Wyoming. Aside from Mary Derwent, who is of course the 
 heroine, the story deals with Queen Esther's son, Giengwatah, the Butlers 
 of notorious memory, and the adventures of the Colonists with the Indians. 
 
 Though much is made of the Massacre of Wyoming, a great portion 
 of the tale describes the love making between Mary Derwent's sister, Walter 
 Butler, and one of the defenders of Forty Fort. 
 
 This hfstorical novel stands out bright and pleating, because of the 
 mystery and notoriety of several of the actors, the tender love scenes, 
 descriptions of the different localities, and the struggles of the settlers. 
 It holds the attention of the reader even to the last page. 
 
 For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of 
 price by the publishers, A. L. BURT COMPANY, 52-58 
 Duane St., New York.
 
 COMPRISING CHOICE SELECTIONS FROM THE 
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 HURT'S HOME LIBRARY is a series which 
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 chiefly selections from writers of the most notable 
 English, American and Foreign Fiction, together with 
 many important works in the domains 
 of History, Biography, Philosophy, 
 Travel, Poetry and the Essays* 
 
 A glance at the following annexed 
 list of titles and authors will endorse 
 the claim that the publishers make 
 for it that it is the most compre- 
 hensive, choice, interesting, and by 
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 of standard authors for world-wide 
 reading that has been produced by 
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 commendation, not only of the book trade throughout 
 the American continent, but of hundreds of thousands of 
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 [SEE FOU,OWING PAGES 1
 
 BURT'S HOME LIBRARY. Cloth. Gilt Tops. Price, $1.00 
 
 Abbe Constantin. BY LUDOVIC 
 
 HALEVY. . 
 
 Abbott, BY SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 Adam Bede. BY GEORGE ELIOT. 
 Addison's Essays. EDITED BY JOHN 
 
 RICHARD GREEN. 
 Aeneid of Virgil. TRANSLATED BY 
 
 JOHN CONNINGTON. 
 Aesop's Fables. 
 Alexander, the Great, Life of. BY 
 
 JOHN WILLIAMS. 
 Alfred, the Great, Life of. BY THOMAS 
 
 HUGHES. 
 
 Mhambra. BY WASHINGTON IRVING. 
 AJice in Wonderland, and Through the 
 
 Looking-Glass. BY LEWIS CARROLL 
 Alice Lorraine. BY R. D. BLACKMORB 
 All Sorts and Conditions of Men. BY 
 
 WALTER BESANT. 
 
 Alton Locke. BY CHARLES KINGSLEY. 
 Amiel's Journal. TRANSLATED BY 
 
 MRS. HUMPHREY WARD. 
 Andersen's Fairy Tales. 
 Anne of Geirstein. BY SIR WALTER 
 
 SCOTT. 
 
 Antiquary. BY SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 Arabian Nights' Entertainments. 
 Ardath. BY MARIE CORELLI. 
 Arnold, Benedict, Life of. BY GEORGE 
 
 CANNING HILL. 
 Arnold's Poems. BY MATTH-EW 
 
 ARNOLD. 
 
 Around the World in the Yacht Sun- 
 beam. BY MRS. BRASSEY. 
 Aruiidel Motto. BY MARY CECIL 
 
 HAY. 
 At the Back of the North Wind. BY 
 
 GEORGE MACDONALD. 
 Attic Philosopher. BY EMILE Sou- 
 
 VESTRE. 
 Auld Licht Idylls. BY JAMES M. 
 
 BARRIE. 
 
 Aunt Diana. BY ROSA N. CAREY. 
 Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin. 
 Autocrat of the Breakfast Table. BY 
 
 O. W. HOLMES. 
 Averil. BY ROSA N. CAREY. 
 Bacon's Essays. BY FRANCIS BACON. 
 Barbara Heathcote's TriaL BY ROSA 
 
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 Barnaby Rudge. BY CHARLES DICK- 
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 Black Dwarf. BY SIR WALTER 
 
 SCOTT. 
 
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 Black Tulip. BY ALEXANDRE DUMAS. 
 Bleak House. BY CHARLES DICKENS. 
 Blithedale Romance. BY NATHANIEL 
 
 HAWTHORNE. 
 
 Bondman. BY HALL CAINE. 
 Book of Golden Deeds. BY CHAR- 
 LOTTE M. YONGE. 
 Boone, Daniel, Life of. BY CECIL B. 
 
 HARTLEY. 
 
 Bride of Lammermoor. BY SIR 
 WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 Bride of the Nile. BY GEORGE EBERS. 
 
 Browning's Poems. BY ELIZABETH 
 BARRETT BROWNING. 
 
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 BY ROBERT BROWNING. 
 
 Bryant's Poems. (EARLY.) BY WILL- 
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 Burgomaster's Wife. BY GEORGB 
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 Burn's Poems. BY ROBERT BURNS. 
 
 By Order of the King. BY VICTOR 
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 Byron's Poems. BY LORD BYRON. 
 
 Caesar, Julius, Life of. BY JAMES 
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 Carson, Kit, Life of. BY CHARLES 
 BURDETT. 
 
 Cary's Poems. BY ALICE AND PHOEBE 
 GARY. 
 
 Cast Up by the Sea. BY SIR SAMUEL 
 BAKER. 
 
 Charlemagne (Charles the Great), Life 
 of. BY THOMAS HODGKIN. D. C. L. 
 
 Charles Auchester. BY E. BERGER. 
 
 Character. BY SAMUEL SMILES. 
 
 Charles O'Malley. BY CHARLES 
 LEVER. 
 
 Chesterfield's Letters. BY LORD CHES- 
 TERFIELD. 
 
 Chevalier de Maison Rouge. By 
 ALEXANDRE DUMAS. 
 
 Chicot the Jester. BY ALEXANDRB 
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 Children of the Abbey. BY REGINA 
 MARIA ROCHE. 
 
 Child's History of England. BY 
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 Christmas Stories. BY CHARLES 
 DICKENS. 
 
 Cloister and the Hearth. BY CHARLES 
 READE. 
 
 Coleridge's Poems. BY SAMUEL TAY- 
 LOR COLERIDGE. 
 
 Columbus, Christopher, Life of. BY 
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 Companions of Jehu. BY ALEXANDRK 
 DUMAS. 
 
 Complete Angler. BY WALTON AND 
 COTTON. 
 
 Conduct of Life. BY RALPH WALDO 
 EMERSON. 
 
 Confessions of an Opium Eater. BY 
 THOMAS DE QUINCSY. 
 
 Conquest of Granada. BY WASHING- 
 TON IRVING. 
 
 Conscript. BY ERCKMANN-CHATRIAN. 
 
 Conspiracy of Pontiac. By FRANCIS 
 PARKMAN, JR. 
 
 Conspirators. BY ALEXANDRE DU- 
 MAS. 
 
 Consuelo. BY GEORGE SAND. 
 
 Cook's Voyages. BY CAPTAIN JAMES 
 COOK. 
 
 Corinne. BY MAEAME DB STAEL. 
 
 Countess de Charney. BY ALEXANDRB 
 DUMAS. 
 
 Countess Gisela. BY E. MARLITT.
 
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 Count Robert of Paris. BY SIR 
 WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 Country Doctor. BY HONORE DB 
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 Courtship of Miles Standish. BY H. W. 
 LONGFELLOW. 
 
 Cousin Maude. BY MARY J. HOLMES. 
 
 Craniord. BY MRS. GASKELL. 
 
 Crockett, David, Life of. AN AUTOBI- 
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 Cromwell, Oliver, Life of. BY EDWIN 
 PAXTOM HOOD. 
 
 Crown of Wild Olive. BY JOHN 
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 Crusades. BY GEO. W. Cox, M. A. 
 
 Danisl Deronda. BY GEORGE EI.IOT. 
 
 Darkness and Daylight. BY MARY J. 
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 Data of Ethics. BY HERBERT SPEN- 
 CER. 
 
 Daughter of an Empress, The. BY 
 LOUISA MUHLBACH. 
 
 David Coppcrfield. BY CHARLES 
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 Days of Bruce. BY GRACE AGUILAR. 
 
 Deemster, The. BY HALL CAINE. 
 
 Deerslayer, The. BY JAMES FENI- 
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 Descent of Man. BY CHARLES DAR- 
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 Discourses of Epictetus. TRANSLATED 
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 Divine Comedy. (DANTE.) TRANS- 
 LATED BY REV. H. F. CAREY. 
 
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 Donal Grant. BY GEORGE MACDON- 
 
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 Dora Deane. BY MARY J. HOLMES. 
 Dove in the Eagle's Nest. BY CHAR- 
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 Dream Life. BY IK MARVEL. 
 
 Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. BY R. L. 
 
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 Duty. BY SAMUEL SMILES. 
 Early Days of Christianity. BY F. W. 
 
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 East Lynne. BY MRS. HENRY WOOD. 
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 Egyptian Princess. BY GEORGE 
 
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 Eight Hundred Leagues on the Ama- 
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 Eliot's Poems. BY GEORGE ELIOT. 
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 Elsie Venner. BY OLIVER WENDELL 
 
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 Emerson's Essays. (COMPLETE.) BY 
 
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 Emerson's Poems. BY RALPH WALDO 
 
 EMERSON. 
 English Orphans. BY MARY J. 
 
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 English Traits. BY R. W. EMERSON. 
 Essays in Criticism. (FIRST AND 
 
 SECOND SERIES.) BY MATTHEW 
 
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 Essays of Elia. BY CHARLES LAMB. 
 Esther. BY ROSA N. CAREY. 
 Ethelyn's Mistake. BY MARY J. 
 
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 Fairy Land of Science. BY ARABELL/ 
 
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 For Lilias. BY ROSA N. CAREY. 
 Fortunes of Nigel. BY SIR WALTER 
 
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 Fragments of Science. BY JOHN 
 
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 Frederick, the Great, Life of. BT 
 
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 French Revolution. BY THOMAS CAR- 
 
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 Golden Treasury. BY FRANCIS T. 
 
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 Great Expectations. BY CHARLES 
 
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