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 My Lady Clancarty
 
 Mary Imlay 'Taylor s Novels 
 
 ON THE RED STAIRCASE. 
 
 AN IMPERIAL LOVER. 
 
 A YANKEE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 THE HOUSE OF THE WIZARD. 
 
 THE CARDINAL'S MUSKETEER. 
 
 THE COBBLER OF NIMES. 
 
 ANNE SCARLETT. 
 
 LITTLE MISTRESS GOOD HOPE AND OTHER 
 
 FAIRY STORIES. 
 
 THE REBELLION OF THE PRINCESS. 
 My LADY CLANCARTY.
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 BEING THE 
 
 TRUE STORY OF THE EARL OF CLANCARTY 
 AND LADY ELIZABETH SPENCER 
 
 BY 
 
 MARY IMLAY TAYLOR 
 
 Author of " On the Red Staircase," "The Cobbler of Nimei," 
 "The Rebellion of the Princess," etc. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY 
 
 ALICE BARBER STEPHENS 
 
 BOSTON 
 LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY
 
 Copyright, 7905, 
 BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. 
 
 All rightt reserved 
 
 ftrfntn* 
 8. J. PAKXBILL <fc Co., BOSTON, TT. S. A.
 
 TO MY MOST CONSTANT READER, 
 
 MY MOTHER 
 
 2229140
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTM PACK 
 
 I. "ROSEEN DHU " I 
 
 II. BROTHER AND SISTER 1 1 
 
 III. LADY BETTY AND HER FATHER .... 18 
 
 IV. IN THE WOODS OF ALTHORPE .... 27 
 V. LADY SUNDERLAND 42 
 
 VI. LADY BETTY'S TOILET 52 
 
 VII. AT THE RACES 61 
 
 VIII. LADY BETTY AND AN IRISH JACOBITE . 72 
 
 IX. THE WEARING OF THE GREEN .... 8 1 
 
 X. AN IRISH DEFIANCE 89 
 
 XI. A NIGHT OF PORTENTS ...... 104 
 
 XII. MASTER AND MAN lio 
 
 XIII. LADY BETTY TAKES THE FIELD . . . . 120 
 
 XIV. THE INN GARDEN 129 
 
 XV. MY LADY SUNDERLAND TAKES TEA . . 139 
 
 XVI. MY LORD CLANCARTY 147 
 
 XVII. AT THE TOY-SHOP 157 
 
 XVIII. THE DUEL 165 
 
 XIX. MY LORD SAVILE REAPS HIS REWARD . . 170 
 
 XX. LADY BETTY'S SEARCH 180 
 
 XXI. THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW . . . . 186 
 vji
 
 Contents 
 
 CHAFTM PACK 
 
 XXII. "UNTIL DEATH us DO PART" . . . 196 
 
 XXIII. MY LORD SPENCER 211 
 
 XXIV. MELISSA 221 
 
 XXV. MR. SECRETARY VERNON 229 
 
 XXVI. THE ARREST 235 
 
 XXVII. THE TRAITOR'S GATE 245 
 
 XXVIII. ALICE AND DENIS 256 
 
 XXIX. FATHER AND DAUGHTER 260 
 
 XXX. MY LORD OF DEVONSHIRE .... 268 
 
 XXXI. LADY RUSSELL 276 
 
 XXXII. THE KING 284 
 
 XXXIII. DONOUGH ! 293 
 
 vtfi
 
 MY LADY CLANCARrY 
 
 Being the True Story of the Earl ofClancarty 
 and Lady Elizabeth Spencer 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 " ROSEEN DHU " 
 
 LADY BETTY shaded her eyes with 
 her hand and looked out on the rose 
 garden of Althorpe. 
 
 At her feet the lawn was close clipped and 
 green ; beyond was a garland of many colors, 
 roses by hundreds and tens of hundreds, the 
 warmth and glow of the sun upon them ; 
 behind them, the long avenue of limes and 
 beeches, and between the trees vistas of level 
 land with the deer moving to and fro. 
 
 The butterflies a little host of them 
 whirled under the window, and her ladyship 
 smiled. 
 
 " Come, Alice," she said, " 't is too fair a 
 day to linger indoors. Bring your lute, girl, 
 and we'll sing one of those dear Irish ballads 
 where none may hear it, to carp and scold,
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 none, indeed, but the rooks and butterflies, or 
 perchance the roses. What sayst thou, Alice, 
 may not a rose hear sweet sounds when it ex- 
 hales such sweet perfume ? " 
 
 " I know not, madam," replied her hand- 
 maid soberly, as she laid aside her needlework 
 and reached for her lute ; " but sometimes, 
 truly, I think 't would be well if ears were 
 fewer in this world." 
 
 " Ay, or tongues more gentle," assented 
 Lady Betty laughing, as she stepped out of 
 the window to the lawn, followed by her 
 attendant. 
 
 Both were young girls, but youth and the 
 rosy comeliness of youth sat more lightly on 
 the handmaid Alice, whose simple face and 
 figure suggested nothing more subtle than the 
 virtue and homely wisdom of a country girl. 
 It was quite different with Lady Betty Clan- 
 carty, the daughter of the Earl of Sunderland 
 and the maiden wife of an Irish peer. There 
 was a slight pensiveness to her beauty, for 
 beautiful she was ; yet there were times when 
 the gayety of a vivacious spirit broke through 
 all restraints, and she was the light-hearted, 
 witty girl that nature had intended her to be. 
 Her eyes beautiful eyes they were, too, 
 were large, clear and sparkling with spirit, and
 
 "Roseen Dhu" 
 
 the soft tints of her complexion and the glossy 
 waves of her dark hair combined to make a 
 charming picture, far more human and bewitch- 
 ing, indeed, than her own portrait from the 
 brush of Lely, hanging in the great gallery at 
 Althorpe. The pensiveness of her expression 
 showed only when her face was in repose ; 
 when she smiled the sun shone through the 
 cloud. Her figure was gracefully tall in its 
 gown of white dimity flowered with pink, 
 the neck dressed open with falls of lace, and 
 the full sleeves loose and flowing at the elbow. 
 She moved lightly and swiftly across the 
 lawn, one white hand resting on the shoulder 
 of her handmaid, who was shorter and fuller 
 in outline than her mistress. Though their 
 stations were thus widely sundered, a frank 
 girlish friendship existed between them, and 
 Lady Betty had few secrets that were not 
 shared by Alice Lynn. They had grown up 
 in the same household ; the one child waiting 
 on the other on all state occasions, but usually 
 her playmate, after the fashion of those days 
 when the feudal tie of lord and vassal still 
 bound old servants and their descendants to 
 their masters. The ancestors of Alice Lynn 
 had borne the banner of the Despencers in 
 many a bloody field ; she came of good yeo- 
 
 3
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 man stock, worthy of honor and trust, and she 
 was single-hearted in her devotion to Lady 
 Clancarty. They made a charming picture, 
 walking through winding paths and talking 
 freely, with little reference to their respective 
 stations in the great world beyond Althorpe. 
 
 " Ah, the roses," Lady Betty said, " I know 
 not whether I love them best in their first bud- 
 ding or in their prime, or when the last few 
 pale blossoms struggle to unfold under wintry 
 skies, like our poor hearts, Alice, that need 
 to be warmed by the sunshine of prosperous 
 love. Mine should have shrivelled up long 
 ago like an old dried leaf. But it has not," 
 she added, smiling and laying her hand on her 
 bosom ; " I feel it it throbs it is warm and 
 strong and whole, Alice, and yet I am a 
 wife and, for aught I know, a widow too ! " 
 
 " There be many wives who would fain be 
 widows, I trow," retorted Alice, bluntly, and 
 Lady Betty laughed gayly and lightly, the sun 
 shining in her lustrous eyes. 
 
 " Perchance I am happy, then, in not know- 
 ing my husband's face," she said; and added 
 musingly, " a strange fate is mine, Alice, mar- 
 ried at eleven and then separated forever from 
 my husband by a gulf as wide as as the 
 infinite space ; I know no stronger simile. 
 
 4
 
 "Roseen Dhu" 
 
 Here am I, the daughter of a Whig peer, who 
 is a counsellor of King William's, and the 
 sister of a burning Whig for Spencer is on 
 fire, I am sure and yet I am the wife, the 
 wedded wife, of an Irish rebel and Jacobite ; 
 an outlaw from his country and a stranger even 
 to me. What a fate ! " and she shook her 
 head with a pensive air, though a smile lurked 
 about her lips for, after all, she could not mourn 
 the absence of an unknown spouse. 
 
 " 'T was wrong to marry a child of such 
 tender years, my lady," the handmaid said 
 indignantly ; " to tie you up one of the 
 loveliest women in England to a a " 
 she broke off confused, catching Lady Betty's 
 eye. 
 
 " A what, Alice ? " the countess asked dryly ; 
 "ay, I know by your blushes and confusion 
 that you have caught the contagion, that you 
 believe with Lord Spencer that my husband 
 is a consummate villain. But look you, my 
 girl, if there is one thing above another that 
 would make me love a man and take up his 
 cause, it is to find him the object of senseless 
 and bitter abuse. What of it if Clancarty has 
 not sought me ? how could he ? Is he not 
 banished from the kingdom, stripped of his 
 estates, and denied even his most natural and
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 sacred rights ? " Lady Clancarty's eyes sparkled 
 with indignation. "What of it, if he is a 
 Jacobite and a Papist? Is he the only man 
 who has changed his faith ? I trow not ! 
 though I should be the last one to say it," and 
 she broke off, blushing crimson. 
 
 The thought of her own father's apostasy, of 
 his frequent political somersaults, overwhelmed 
 her, and she recollected her own dignity in 
 time to bridle her impulsive tongue. 
 
 Alice was too discreet to take up the argu- 
 ment ; she stooped, instead, to gather some 
 violets, and arranged them slowly and in si- 
 lence. Lady Betty walked ahead of her to a 
 little rustic seat, and sitting down held out her 
 hand with an impatient gesture. 
 
 " Give hither the violets, Alice," she said 
 imperiously, " and sing me a song. I am in 
 as black a mood as ever Saul was, and may do 
 you a mischief if you do not soothe me." 
 
 Alice smiled. " I fear you not, dear Lady 
 Betty," she said, tuning her lute ; "your anger 
 passes over as quickly as a storm-cloud in April 
 weather. What shall I sing you, madam ? " 
 
 A roguish smile twinkled in Lady Clancarty's 
 eyes. 
 
 "You shall do penance, lass, and sing me 
 either a Papist hymn or an Irish ballad." 
 
 6
 
 "Roseen t)Au" 
 
 tf Nay, I am no Papist, but a good Protes- 
 tant," said Alice, stiffly, " therefore it must be 
 an Irish ballad, which is what you really want, 
 my lady ! " 
 
 Lady Betty laughed softly. 
 
 " 'T is true, my girl," she said, clasping her 
 hands about her knees, the full sleeves falling 
 away from arms as white as milk. " I love the 
 ballads ; whether for his sake or their own, I 
 know not," and she bent her head listening as 
 the handmaid played the first plaintive notes 
 on her lute. 
 
 Alice was no contemptible musician, and 
 she touched the instrument softly with loving 
 fingers, playing the first sweet sad chords of 
 that old Irish air and Jacobite ballad, " Roseen 
 Dhu," or " Dark Rosaleen." 
 
 The garden and the great park beyond and 
 around it were quiet save for the cawing of the 
 hundreds of rooks that haunted those stately 
 avenues of trees. The warmth and the soft 
 murmuring of the late summer were there ; 
 here was the deep shadow of stately groves, 
 yonder the wide sunshine on level lawns, but 
 the place was deserted save for the two young 
 women and the deer that were so tame that they 
 pressed close about them, looking through the 
 trees with soft brown eyes, and seeming to 
 
 7
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 listen to the wild, plaintive notes of the ballad, 
 as Alice sang in a full, mellow voice : 
 
 " All day long in unrest 
 To and fro do I move, 
 The very soul within my breast 
 Is wasted for you, love ! 
 The heart in my bosom feints, 
 To think of you, my queen, 
 My life of life, my saint of saints, 
 
 My dark Rosaleen ! 
 
 My own Rosaleen ! 
 
 To hear your sweet and sad complaints, 
 My life, my love, my saint of saints, 
 
 My dark Rosaleen ! " 
 
 Midway in the song the girl paused, still 
 playing the air softly. 
 
 " My lady," she said, in an undertone, 
 " there is some one yonder in the shrubbery." 
 
 " 'T is Melissa," replied Lady Clancarty ; 
 " I have seen her. She loves to lurk behind a 
 bush, and to slip along softly as a cat upon nut- 
 shells ; 't is her nature. Faith, I must buy her 
 some bells for her toes. Go on, my girl ; I 
 care not," she added, laughing, "and I do 
 love the tune. Ah, * Rosaleen, my own Rosa- 
 leen !'" she hummed, keeping time with her 
 slender hand. 
 
 Alice sang again : 
 
 8
 
 " Roseen D/iu" 
 
 " Over dews, over sands, 
 Will I fly for your weal : 
 Your holy white hands 
 Shall gird me with steel. 
 At home in your emerald bowers, 
 From morning's dawn till e'en, 
 You '11 pray for me, my flower of flowers, 
 
 My dark Rosaleen ! 
 
 My fond Rosaleen ! 
 
 You '11 think of me, through daylight's hours, 
 My virgin flower, my flower of flowers, 
 
 My dark Rosaleen ! " 
 
 Suddenly Lady Clancarty started and half 
 rose, interrupting the singer; but as Alice 
 looked up in alarm, she sat down again, rosy 
 and defiant. 
 
 " Pshaw ! " she said ; " go on, Alice, there 
 comes Spencer himself, and, forsooth, I would 
 not be frightened out of my pleasure." 
 
 " But, my lady," protested Alice, in con- 
 fusion, " he will be dreadfully angry, he always 
 is!" 
 
 " To be sure he will," retorted Lady Betty, 
 with a ripple of laughter, " therefore sing, lass, 
 and I will sing, too." 
 
 Alice still hesitated, her eyes on the fig- 
 ure of a young man who was coming swiftly 
 across the lawn, but her mistress stamped her 
 foot. 
 
 9
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 " Sing ! " she commanded so sharply that 
 Alice obeyed hastily, and in a moment the 
 countess' rich contralto joined her voice in 
 singing the last passionate verse of " Roseen 
 Dhu." 
 
 " O ! the Erne shall run red 
 With redundance of blood, 
 The earth shall rock beneath our tread, 
 And flames wrap hill and wood, 
 And gun peal and slogan cry 
 Wake many a glen serene, 
 Ere you shall fade, ere you shall die, 
 
 My dark Rosaleen! 
 
 My own Rosaleen ! 
 The judgment hour must be nigh 
 Ere you can fade, ere you can die, 
 
 My dark Rosaleen ! "
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 BROTHER AND SISTER 
 
 LORD CHARLES SPENCER paused 
 in the centre of the triangle. 
 " A very pretty performance," he 
 said with a sneer, " a very proper performance 
 to sing Jacobite ballads here ! " 
 
 " I trow they are not the first that have 
 been sung here, brother," retorted Lady Betty 
 pertly. 
 
 " You have a saucy tongue, Elizabeth," re- 
 plied her brother rudely, turning white rather 
 than red, for in this young man's disposition 
 anger went white, not red. " 'T would go hard 
 with you if my father heard that." 
 
 " ' T would go hard with you if my father 
 heard that I " mocked Lady Betty incorrigible. 
 " Come, come, Charles, talk of something 
 agreeable. What is the volume under your 
 arm ? Noah's observations on droughts ? or 
 Adam's reflections on mothers-in-law ? or Cain's 
 on brotherly love ? Faith, I always expect 
 
 1 1
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 something profound from the most erudite 
 ornament of the Whig party." 
 
 " 1 wish I might look as certainly for dis- 
 cretion in Elizabeth Spencer," he replied with 
 acrimony. 
 
 "In Elizabeth Clancarty," corrected the 
 countess, flashing an indignant glance at him. 
 
 " You are marvellously proud of that beg- 
 gar's name," retorted her brother, with cutting 
 irony. 
 
 Lady Clancarty's face crimsoned with anger. 
 
 " You are a hypocrite, Spencer ! " she said, 
 stamping her foot. 
 
 " Family insults in public are always becom- 
 ing," said Lord Spencer, controlling himself 
 with an effort, but white to the lips. 
 
 " Forsooth, who began it ? " recriminated his 
 high-spirited sister; "you might better indeed 
 talk of other things. Of your fine clothes, for 
 instance ; you are truly ' the glass of fashion,' 
 my lord, pink satin waistcoat and breeches, 
 gray plush coat, point of Venice ruffles, white 
 silk stockings, clocked, too, with pink, French 
 shoes and buckles, mercy on us, sir ! what 
 splendor for beggarly Lady Clancarty and quiet 
 Althorpe ! " 
 
 Lord Spencer, who was indeed dressed in 
 the extreme of fashion, bit his lip, scowling 
 
 12
 
 Brother and Sister 
 
 darkly at Lady Betty and Alice, who remained 
 discreetly in the background. 
 
 " You do well to boast of your dishonored 
 name, madam," he said coldly, " but my Lord 
 Sunderland intends that you shall be divorced 
 from that disreputable Irish rebel." 
 
 "And what if I will not, my lord?" asked 
 the countess, her face blazing with defiance. 
 
 " You are a fool," said Spencer sharply ; 
 " happy you would be dragged into exile by 
 a rake and a scapegrace but, pshaw ! what 
 nonsense I talk " 
 
 " You do, sir ! " interrupted his sister de- 
 fiantly. 
 
 " Nonsense because Clancarty does not want 
 you." He continued, with a provoking drawl, 
 " Where is your husband, my lady ? For- 
 sooth you do not know but I do ! At 
 Saint Germain and at Paris ; a gambler, a 
 rake, a cutpurse, with half a dozen lady-loves 
 to " 
 
 " Silence ! " cried Lady Betty furiously, ris- 
 ing in her indignation. " Shame on you, sir, 
 to insult a woman and she your sister, and to 
 blacken a gallant gentleman behind his back. 
 Is that your virtue? Faith, I believe a witty 
 rogue would be a happier companion than a 
 virtuous bore ! " 
 
 13
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 " Your tongue will cut your throat yet, 
 madam," said Spencer harshly ; " you have 
 worked yourself into this passion ; you have 
 never seen your husband since childhood, and 
 you do not know him. It is my duty as your 
 brother, a painful duty, I admit," he said 
 pompously, " to tell you the truth. Lord 
 Clancarty is a notorious scamp, a dissolute fel- 
 low, a murderer and oppressor ; and, as for 
 you, what does he care for you ? You little 
 fool, he has never sought you and never 
 will ! " and with this taunt my lord turned on 
 his heel and walked decorously but swiftly 
 away, wise enough to fly before his sister 
 could retaliate. 
 
 Lady Betty stood as he had left her for a 
 moment, her little hands clenched and her 
 face crimson. 
 
 " The mean hypocrite ! " she cried, " to fling 
 it in my teeth. I vow I sometimes almost 
 hate Spencer and yet he is my brother. 
 I 'm a beast, Alice, a wretch ! but oh ! " and 
 suddenly her mood changed ; she threw herself 
 on the garden-seat, trembling with emotion, 
 tears on her dark lashes. " Oh, why must I 
 be so cruelly insulted ? 'T is true, Alice, 't is 
 true ; Clancarty has never even cared to claim 
 his wife ! Think of it, I I Betty Spencer, 
 
 '4
 
 Brother and Sister 
 
 scorned by an Irish Jacobite ! " and she burst 
 into tears. 
 
 " My lady," purred a smooth voice, as the 
 other attendant suddenly and softly stepped 
 into view, from the friendly shadow of an elm ; 
 "be consoled, 'tis even as Lord Spencer " 
 
 " Go ! " cried the countess furiously, dash- 
 ing away her tears and stamping her foot at 
 Melissa. " Go ! What do I want of your 
 consolation, you eavesdropper ! " 
 
 " My lady, I beg pardon," stammered the 
 confused waiting-woman, "I " 
 
 " Go ! " repeated the countess imperiously, 
 with a gesture of disdain. " When I want 
 you, I will summon you." 
 
 With a look of ill-disguised anger on her 
 smooth face, but with an attempted air of 
 humility, the attendant withdrew as softly as 
 she had approached, and Lady Betty recalled 
 her dignity. 
 
 " Pshaw ! " she said, " what a creature I am, 
 Alice, so to betray myself, and to stoop to 
 quarrel with that worm, Melissa ! I did not 
 think, I never think ; but, oh, my girl, my lot 
 has many thorns ! Alas, and alas ! 
 
 ' Once I bloomed a maiden young 
 A widow' s woe now moves my tongue ; '
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 and a widow by desertion. Ah, how I hate 
 the taunt ! " and she stamped her foot. 
 
 " Heed it not, dear Lady Betty," murmured 
 Alice, " 't is not true." 
 
 " Ah, but it is, girl, it is," cried Lady Clan- 
 carty, with an impatient gesture, " and I despise 
 myself for caring." 
 
 " Are you sure, madam, that Lord Clancarty 
 has made no effort to claim his bride, or to 
 see you ? " Alice asked soberly, standing alone 
 in the triangle opposite Lady Betty, the sun 
 shining in a friendly fashion on her comely, 
 honest face. 
 
 "Am I sure?" repeated the countess in 
 surprise, and her expression changed swiftly ; 
 " do you think he may have tried to communi- 
 cate with me and failed ? " 
 
 " Why not, my lady ? " replied the hand- 
 maid simply ; " we know how my Lord Spencer 
 feels ; and your father, the earl, madam, is, 
 perhaps, as little inclined toward your husband." 
 
 Lady Betty sat looking down reflectively, 
 tapping her foot on the gravel path. 
 
 "It may be so," she said thoughtfully ; 
 " your brain is growing keen, Alice, from cross- 
 ing swords with mine ! " and she laughed, for 
 she was an April creature with swift-changing 
 moods. She rose, throwing out her hands 
 
 16
 
 Brother and Sister 
 
 with a pretty gesture, as though she threw care 
 to the winds. 
 
 " O Donough Macarthy, Earl of Clancarty, 
 art worthy all these heart beats of mine ? " she 
 cried, and laughed as gayly as a child. " I 
 tell thee, Alice, he has not seen me for years, 
 not since I was eleven, and he pictures me 
 with a turned-up nose and freckles and red 
 hair, and is half frightened to death at the 
 thought of his English bride." 
 
 " Your hair was never red, my lady," said 
 Alice soberly. 
 
 " Pshaw, child, he has forgotten, poor lad ! " 
 laughed Lady Betty, herself again ; " he may 
 think my nose red, too ! " 
 
 '7
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 LADY BETTY AND HER FATHER 
 
 IT was after sundown and the light was 
 dim in the great gallery of Althorpe. 
 Candles were set in silver sconces at 
 intervals down its whole length of over a hun- 
 dred feet, but between lay soft shadows, and 
 the pictured faces of many famous men and 
 women, of sovereigns of England, statesmen, 
 soldiers, and court beauties, looked down from 
 the walls on either hand. Holbein and Van 
 Dyke and Lely had wrought upon these can- 
 vases. Here was the famous Duchess of 
 Cleveland, painted by Lely, and the Countess 
 of Grammont, and yonder was Lady Ports- 
 mouth and Nell Gwynne herself; and in this 
 strange company, the fair, sweet, coquettish 
 face of Betty Clancarty, lovely as any of the 
 court beauties and far more lovable and true. 
 
 The floor was polished and strewn with 
 splendid rugs; far-off India, Turkey, Italy, 
 
 France, and Holland had contributed rugs and 
 
 18
 
 Lady Betty and Her Father 
 
 tapestries, paintings, beautiful bric-a-brac and 
 statuary to decorate the famous gallery of the 
 Spencers, where Anne of Denmark, Queen of 
 James the First, and the young Prince Charles, 
 the future royal martyr, saw the Masque of 
 Ben Jonson. Here, too, came doubtless King 
 Charles the First, he who created Henry 
 Spencer Earl of Sunderland ; here, also, 
 reigned the daughter of the Sidneys, Dorothy, 
 Countess of Sunderland, the heroine of Waller's 
 verses and the grandmother of Lady Betty. 
 A gallery full of memories, where royalty and 
 beauty smiled dimly from the great canvases, 
 and every footstep woke an echo of the past. 
 
 At that sunset hour the place was quiet save 
 for the cawing of the rooks under the eaves, 
 for they haunted every corner of the house and 
 congregated in the long avenues that enfiladed 
 the park ; yet even the sound of bird consulta- 
 tions did not disturb the revery of the man 
 who slowly paced up and down the gallery a 
 man past middle age with an inscrutable face, his 
 head a little bowed as he walked, his hands behind 
 his back, his dress a long gown of black velvet, 
 rufHes of lace at the throat and over the slender 
 white hands a strange man, self-possessed, 
 complacent, smooth, infinitely winning of ad- 
 dress, and one of the most unscrupulous poli-
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 ticians and time-servers of that time-serving 
 age when William the Third knew not where 
 to look among his English counsellors for 
 steady faith, when it was no uncommon thing 
 for a man to swear allegiance both at West- 
 minster and Saint Germain, and to be an 
 apostate besides. Even in that age of false- 
 hood and double dealing, Robert, second Earl 
 of Sunderland, excelled his fellows; but if he 
 excelled them in falsehood, so did he also in 
 discernment, in the power to read men, and to 
 win them by his polished and smooth address, 
 the charm of a personality that had won even 
 upon the cold astuteness of the king himself. 
 
 Whatever his thoughts were now, Lord 
 Sunderland's face was placid, his perfect mask 
 of serenity immutable, as he walked to and 
 fro, now and then pausing to look critically at 
 a fine picture, or to take counsel with himself, 
 and he looked up with a calm smile when the 
 door at the farther end of the gallery opened and 
 the graceful figure of Lady Betty came swiftly 
 toward him. He admired his daughter deeply, 
 but subtle as he was he did not understand 
 her. His standard of womanhood was differ- 
 ent, and he had no ennobling example in his 
 wife ; she had been false to him and he had 
 known it, and had used the services of her 
 
 20
 
 Lady Betty and Her Father 
 
 Jover to smooth his own way with William of 
 Orange, while he himself was vowing fealty to 
 James the Second and walking barefoot, taper 
 in hand, to the chapel royal to be admitted 
 into the Roman communion a communion 
 he renounced as easily at a convenient season. 
 This daughter who had grown up unlike either 
 parent in simplicity and retirement, this beauti- 
 ful, spirited, pure-souled creature he did not 
 understand, but he admired her, and after his 
 own fashion he loved her. On the other hand, 
 Lady Betty understood him in many ways 
 more thoroughly than he dreamed ; she had a 
 woman's intuitions, and she did not reverence 
 him ; his subtlety, his falsehood, his smooth 
 affability did not deceive her; she looked at 
 him with clear eyes, and knew him better than 
 the wise and watchful sovereign whom he served. 
 But she was his daughter and she inherited all 
 his charm of manner, his smooth tongue, his 
 easy address, and he saw it and always smiled 
 upon her. 
 
 She came up to him now with a sparkle 
 in her eyes which portended more than he 
 imagined. 
 
 " Are you better, sir ? " she asked, with 
 solicitude ; " your absence from table disturbed 
 me. Was it illness or politics ? " 
 
 21
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 " Both, Betty," replied the earl smiling ; 
 " but you missed me not, you had a younger 
 and a better man in Spencer." 
 
 " Faith, sir, I would rather have a worse 
 one," retorted Lady Betty, with a shrug, " such 
 piety and virtue are too much, they overwhelm 
 me. 'Tis a pity that good men are so often 
 bores ! " 
 
 Sunderland smiled, amusement twinkling in 
 his deep-set eyes. 
 
 " I have often found them so, Betty," he 
 admitted ; " but Charles is a worthy youth, my 
 dear, and his advice, though often somewhat 
 tedious and long winded, is weighty and 
 merits consideration." 
 
 " It may be so," replied the countess, with 
 an arch smile; "but upon my soul, sir, he was 
 so long and loud in braying it at me that I 
 fell to looking at his ears, expecting to see 
 them start up on either side of his head and 
 grow long and pointed. He is tedious ! " and 
 her ladyship yawned. 
 
 " Brothers often are, Betty," remarked the 
 earl smiling ; " you must have other and gayer 
 company. In fact, I was but now planning to 
 send you to Newmarket for the races ; Lady 
 Sunderland is there, Spencer is going, and I go 
 presently. You have lived too much in retire- 
 
 22
 
 Lady Betty and Her Father 
 
 ment here ; you must go to Newmarket and 
 hear gayer talk than the discourses of our 
 young sage." 
 
 " I shall be glad to escape the oracle," said 
 the countess ; but she glanced searchingly at 
 her father and added quietly, "My retire- 
 ment becomes me, sir; I am practically a 
 widow." 
 
 The earl's expression changed a trifle, but 
 such a trifle that his daughter made little of it. 
 
 " We will not refer to that unhappy con- 
 tract," he said smoothly ; " it was an error on 
 my part, Elizabeth, and I assure you I repent 
 it." 
 
 "Has Lord Clancarty written to you, father?" 
 she asked, so abruptly that Sunderland started, 
 and for an instant his eye faltered under hers, 
 and he hesitated before he was himself again. 
 
 " Never," he said calmly, closing his silver 
 snuff-box and giving the lid a friendly little 
 tap. 
 
 His momentary confusion, though, was 
 nearly his undoing ; his daughter laid a white 
 hand on his arm. 
 
 " He has written you," she said imperiously, 
 " and lately, too ! " 
 
 " Upon my word, Elizabeth," said the earl 
 frowning, " you go too far." 
 
 23
 
 My Lady Clan car ty 
 
 " I cannot help it," she cried impetuously. 
 " Have I no rights ? Ought it to be con- 
 cealed from me and confided to my brother, 
 who only taunts me ? My husband has written 
 you!" ' 
 
 Sunderland had recovered himself now, 
 however, and smiled calmly at her. 
 
 " You are too headstrong, my love," he 
 said smoothly, "too easily suspicious. If 
 Clancarty wrote, why should I conceal it? 
 As you remark, he is your husband in the 
 eyes of the law, but your husband in fact he 
 is not, and trust me, Betty, he is too great a 
 Jacobite to risk himself in England." 
 
 " But, father, the Peace of Ryswick has 
 brought many back," she said, " and we all 
 know it is notorious how easy King Wil- 
 liam is and you, you could get Clancarty's 
 pardon a thousand times over, if you would ! " 
 
 " Hear the child ! " said Sunderland, with a 
 gesture of mock despair. " Why, Betty, 
 't was marvellous hard to get my own, and the 
 politicians hate me so that not even Spencer's 
 devotion to the Whigs appeases that party. 
 Clancarty's pardon! 'twould cost me my 
 liberty and, perhaps, my head." 
 
 " Nonsense ! " pouted Lady Betty ; " you 
 are the king's friend ; I will not believe you.
 
 Lady Betty and Her Father 
 
 And you might, at least, take thought of me ; 
 I am his wife." 
 
 "O child, child!" laughed Lord Sunder- 
 land, " as little his wife as my Lady Devon- 
 shire or the Princess Anne. Married to him, 
 through your father's folly, when you were 
 eleven and parted from him on the instant. 
 What virtue is there in such a contract? Be 
 sure, my love, he has in no wise respected it 
 nor will he while I have my daughter safe 
 with me. Think not of him, Betty ! 'T was 
 my folly, but then he possessed large estates in 
 Munster and it promised to be a great match ; 
 for, believe me, I had no thought of tying 
 you to a proscribed and penniless scapegrace." 
 
 " Ay," said Lady Betty, with spirit, " he 
 was rich and now he is poor; therefore, my 
 lord, I will not desert him ! " 
 
 Lord Sunderland laughed, but his eyes did 
 not laugh with him. 
 
 " There is no question of desertion, my 
 child," he said smoothly, " you are not his 
 wife, and you never shall be." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir," retorted the in- 
 corrigible countess, " I am his wife, and I will 
 be no other man's." 
 
 " Tush!" replied the earl impatiently, "you 
 know not what you say. Go to your apart- 
 
 25
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 ment, Elizabeth, and reflect upon the matter 
 until you recollect your duty to me. Here 
 comes Spencer now with some visitors, and I 
 have no more leisure for your childish folly." 
 
 But Lady Betty would not be silenced ; as 
 she retired toward the door opposite the one 
 that was opening to admit the earl's visitors, 
 she murmured low but distinctly, 
 
 " I am his wife, my lord, and I will be no 
 less," and she swept out with her face aflame 
 and her head high. 
 
 She came to the head of the great staircase 
 and stood looking down, gracefully poised, her 
 finger on her lips ; a charming figure, musing 
 upon destiny, with the soft candlelight shining 
 down upon her stately young head and her 
 flowing white robes. She began to hum softly 
 to herself the air of" Roseen Dhu." 
 
 " And one beaming smile from you 
 Would float like light between 
 My toils and me, my own, my true, 
 
 My dark Rosaleen! 
 
 My fond Rosaleen! 
 Would give me life and soul anew, 
 A second life, a soul anew ! 
 
 My dark Rosaleen! " 
 
 26
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 IN THE WOODS OF ALTHORPE 
 
 A.THORPE, called in Domesday Books 
 " Ollethorp," and held before the 
 Conquest, as the freehold of Tosti 
 and Snorterman, had been the home of the 
 Spencers since the days of Henry the Seventh, 
 when one John Catesby, second son of John 
 Catesby of Legus Ashby, sold it to John 
 Spencer, Esquire, son of William Spencer of 
 Wormleighton,' in Warwickshire, descended 
 from the younger branch of the Despencers, 
 anciently Earls of Gloucester and Winchester, 
 and still more remotely from Ivo, Viscount 
 Constantine, who married Emma, daughter 
 of Alan of Brittany, before the Conquest 
 coming, therefore, by blood from one of the 
 great feudal lords of France. 
 
 Althorpe House was built of freestone, in 
 the form of the letter H, the two long wings 
 joined by a central building in which was the 
 main entrance facing south. It stood in a 
 
 27
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 beautiful spot, level and well wooded. The 
 old gatehouse, remnant of the feudal strength 
 of Althorpe, had once been surrounded by a 
 moat, but that had long since run dry and was 
 overgrown with turf as smooth as velvet. The 
 long avenues of elms and beeches and limes 
 ran from it to the very doors of the earl's 
 house, and about it lay the park, enfiladed by 
 those avenues of stately trees, while beyond 
 were the meadows in the old time it was said 
 that there were eight acres of meadowland and 
 two of thornwood in one small portion of the 
 freehold of Ollethorp and now the great 
 domain stretched out on every hand, beautified 
 by nature and by art. 
 
 It was in the woods of the park that Lady 
 Betty and her attendant, Alice Lynn, walked 
 on the morning after her interview with her 
 father. It was too threatening to set out 
 upon the journey to Newmarket, so they 
 strolled on the outskirts of the earl's domain. 
 Both girls were cloaked and hooded and pre- 
 pared for rain and, indeed, more than once 
 there was the sharp pattering of drops on the 
 thick foliage overhead. They did not hasten 
 their steps, for neither of them feared the 
 elements, and Lady Betty really feared noth- 
 ing greatly, being a high-spirited and daring 
 
 28
 
 In the tf^oods of Althorpe 
 
 young creature who loved adventure well. A 
 fresh breeze began to blow, rustling the leaves, 
 and the branches swayed and creaked above 
 them, a trellis-work of wavering green through 
 which the gray sky blinked occasionally. To 
 the left was a coppice, black with shadows ; 
 before them, here and there, a wide vista of 
 open fields showed the grass rippling in a 
 thousand waves ; and again the tree-tops that 
 seemed to touch the long, ragged clouds 
 scudding so low, heavy with moisture and 
 torn by wind. And the same wind grown 
 caressing tossed the soft locks of Lady 
 Betty's hair into little curls about her face 
 under the yellow bird's-eye hood. 
 
 " What have you there, Alice ? " she asked, 
 as the girl stooped and peeped into a patch of 
 grass growing in an opening between the trees. 
 
 " 'T is but a four-leafed clover, madam," 
 Alice replied, pulling it. 
 
 Lady Clancarty took it and looked at it 
 with a quizzical eye. 
 
 "There is a saying in Devonshire," she 
 said, " that if you find a four-leafed clover and 
 an even-leafed ash on the same day you will 
 surely see your love ere sundown." 
 
 " I have none, my lady," replied Alice 
 demurely. 
 
 2 9
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 Lady Betty laughed with a delicious ripple 
 of merriment. 
 
 " You have none, girl ? " she said archly. 
 " What a prompt confession ! I grow sus- 
 picious, Alice, and see, there is the tell-tale 
 blood creeping up to your hair. Fie, girl, fie ! 
 Where is thy true love, thine own love 
 now?" 
 
 " Indeed, I know not, madam," replied 
 Alice meekly ; " no one ever wooed me but 
 the parson, and his mouth was so large that it 
 frightened me ; it did open his head like a 
 lid." 
 
 " Mercy on us, girl, 'twas an opening in life 
 for you," laughed Lady Betty ; "and 'tis said 
 that a large mouth is generous." 
 
 " He was a great eater, madam," replied the 
 handmaid bluntly. 
 
 " Then were you surely meant for him, 
 lass, for you are a famous maker of pastries, 
 as I know. But tell me, Alice, did ever you 
 have your fortune told ? " 
 
 "Nay, 'twas not thought seemly by my 
 aunt," replied Alice ; " I was reared as strict as 
 any Calvinist." 
 
 " And yet live with a sinner," said Lady 
 Clancarty with a smile. " I would inquire my 
 fate, if there be any fortune-teller or sooth- 
 
 3
 
 In the Woods of Althorpe 
 
 sayer near. I grow more curious every day, 
 Alice, to know what the end may be." 
 
 " Ignorance is ofttimes best, my lady," 
 quietly replied her attendant. 
 
 "It may be," Lady Clancarty said; "but 
 sooth, Alice, 'tis very trying. I would fain 
 know I would fathom that dark cloud that 
 hangs upon my destiny." 
 
 " Dear Lady Betty," Alice said, " is there 
 indeed a dark cloud upon it ? It seems to my 
 humble vision fair as summer sunshine, and 
 high and noble." 
 
 The mistress sighed. " Ah, simple maid," 
 she said, "look not enviously upon high 
 estate. Light hearted I was born, gay and 
 full of recklessness, I believe, but happy 
 ah, Alice, once I was ! But now, my mind 
 keeps turning ever to the thought of one less 
 happy ; I have a home and he he has none ; 
 I have friends belike, he is friendless. I 
 have money, a dower cut from his estates 
 in Munster ; he is a beggar ! O Alice, it 
 grieves me ; I would fain help him ; I would 
 fain give him back my dower; I would 
 oh, do you not see what I must seem to 
 him? Heartless, cold, without sense of my 
 duty, a robber and an enemy? I who am 
 true, I who have only too kind a heart, I who 
 
 3 1
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 would give my all to help him what is the 
 song ? 
 
 ' Oh, I could kneel all night in prayer, 
 To heal your many ills ! ' 
 
 Alice, I must know how my husband fares, 
 I mercy on us, girl, what ails you ? " 
 she cried, for Alice had given a scream of 
 alarm, starting back from the coppice near at 
 hand. 
 
 " There 's some one there ! " cried the 
 handmaid, in agitation, " I saw a man's boot 
 and spur yonder." 
 
 " Where ? " demanded Lady Betty im- 
 patiently, " where is your scare-crow, you little 
 simpleton ? " 
 
 But before Alice could reply a large man 
 emerged from the beeches and advanced 
 toward them. He was clad in a long riding 
 coat of dark blue with deep capes, and his 
 high boots were splashed with mud. As he 
 approached he lifted his wide-brimmed, be- 
 plumed hat, uncovering a head which was 
 striking in contour. His face was of a bold 
 and handsome type and his dark gray eyes 
 were keen ; he wore the full, long periwig of 
 the prevailing fashion and a flowing cravat of 
 Flemish lace. 
 
 3*
 
 In the Woods of Althorpe 
 
 " A likely bugbear, my girl," whispered 
 Lady Betty roguishly, pinching Alice's arm, 
 but turning an innocent face upon the 
 stranger. 
 
 " I crave pardon," he said, with an easy 
 salutation, " I have lost my way ; will you 
 direct me to Northampton ? " 
 
 " The town lies five miles from us, sir," 
 replied Lady Betty, " and the tavern of the 
 King's Arms is upon the high street." 
 
 " I thank you," he replied courteously, but 
 with no apparent desire to depart, and gazed 
 at Lady Clancarty with an open admiration 
 that offended Alice, who plucked at her 
 mistress' sleeve. 
 
 "Will you tell me what place this is?" he 
 added, pointing at Althorpe House. 
 
 "It belongs to our master, the Earl of 
 Sunderland," replied Lady Betty, affecting 
 the pert air of a waiting-maid ; " 't is a fine 
 place, sir, with a gallery full of pictures and 
 another full of books and books and books ! 
 Dear me, sir, a sight of 'em ! Your worship 
 should go and look at 'em; 'tis a very hos- 
 pitable house, too, and strangers are made 
 welcome." 
 
 " Indeed," he said, with a smile, " I would 
 be glad to avail myself of the opportunity 
 3 33
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 at another season. And you, my pretty 
 maids, are the keeper's daughters ? " 
 
 " Faith, yes, sir," said Lady Clancarty, drop- 
 ping a courtesy, " we 're twins." 
 
 " By Saint Patrick, you are strangely untwin- 
 like ! " remarked the stranger frankly ; " never 
 saw I two birds from one nest with less resem- 
 blance ; one a pigeon and the other " 
 
 " What, your honor ? " demanded Lady 
 Betty roguishly, while Alice plucked at her 
 skirts in genuine confusion and fear. 
 
 " A bird of Paradise," said he gallantly, kiss- 
 ing the tips of his fingers to her. 
 
 Lady Betty hung her head, simpering like 
 the veriest country girl. 
 
 " Faith, sir," she said, fingering her ker- 
 chief, " I don't know what that is. Is it 
 poultry? " 
 
 " It has wings, my dear," he replied smiling, 
 " but, in this case, they are only figurative." 
 
 " La, sir ! " cried Lady Betty, " what 's 
 that ? It sounds like something strange." 
 
 "It's a figure of speech, my girl," he re- 
 plied, a daring smile in his gray eyes as he 
 drew a step nearer and Betty retreated a step, 
 partly drawn by Alice ; " but eyes like stars 
 and cheeks like roses do not belong to the 
 barnyard." 
 
 34
 
 In the Woods of Althorpe 
 
 Her ladyship, suspecting that she had be- 
 trayed herself, bridled a little, but her love of 
 mischief kept her from flight. 
 
 " Faith ! " she said, looking down, " you 
 fine gentlemen talk so finely that a poor maid 
 cannot follow you. Go to the tavern, sir, and 
 there your worship will find a listener after 
 your own heart, for they do say that saucy 
 Polly can talk up to Lord Spencer himself, and 
 he 's the most learned man in England, sir ; 
 and, indeed, I do believe that all the others 
 that ever knew half as much died of it imme- 
 diately and were buried ! Go to the tavern, sir, 
 and good cheer to you and good by," and her 
 ladyship dropped another awkward courtesy. 
 
 " Here, lass, a kiss and a crown for your 
 pains," said the stranger, making a sudden 
 attempt to catch her by the arm. 
 
 But Lady Betty danced off as light as a 
 feather, laughing roguishly under her hood. 
 
 " Nay, sir," she said wickedly, "girls do 
 not kiss strangers in this country if they do 
 in France ! " 
 
 "Confound the witch!" ejaculated the 
 traveller, with a start of surprise. " Pshaw ! 
 't was my French coin she saw," he added, and 
 smiled as he watched the two girlish figures 
 flying through the trees. 
 
 35
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 Meanwhile Lady Betty was laughing and 
 Alice remonstrating. 
 
 " Oh, my lady, how could you ? " she said ; 
 " he might recognize you, he might have kissed 
 you ! " 
 
 "So he might!" admitted Lady Clancarty 
 gleefully, "and how handsome he is ! Did you 
 mark him, Alice, is he not handsome ? " 
 
 " Nay, madam," said the discreet handmaid, 
 still shocked and frightened, " that I know 
 not, but he was overbold in staring at your 
 ladyship." 
 
 " Did he so? " asked Lady Betty pensively, 
 blushing in a tell-tale fashion ; " I noted 
 it not ; but was he not tall and strong 
 and finely framed, Alice, with a bonny gray 
 eye ? " 
 
 " Oh, comely enough in appearance, my 
 lady, but bold and with a reckless air ; I trem- 
 bled lest he should insult you." 
 
 " Pooh, pooh, girl, you would love a milk- 
 sop! " said Lady Betty petulantly ; " he has 
 the very eye and front of a soldier. I '11 wager 
 he is some gallant who can strike a good blow 
 for his sweetheart. What fun would there be 
 in life without a harmless jest? He took me 
 for a waiting-woman." 
 
 " That he did not ! " cried Alice, " he knew 
 36
 
 In the Woods of Althorpe 
 
 you, take my word for it, and he would have 
 kissed you, the daring wretch ! " 
 
 The handmaid shuddered at the thought 
 and the mistress laughed at her perturbation, 
 laughed with sweet gayety, her mirth rippling 
 in low, joyous notes. 
 
 " You have no eye for a fine man, Alice," 
 she said blithely ; " you little prude, do you 
 think I would have let him ? Nay, then do 
 you not know me ; but 't was rare fun to see 
 the dare-devil in those gray eyes of his. He 
 has French gold, too, and mercy, how startled 
 he was at my haphazard shot. 'T is some 
 Jacobite, and there are fierce Whigs at North- 
 ampton ! Lackaday, the poor gentleman may 
 come into trouble, I must warn him." 
 
 " My lady, my lady," protested Alice, and 
 then stood aghast. " The saints help us," she 
 murmured, " there she runs after that bold 
 gallant, like a village lass, and if the earl should 
 see her ! " 
 
 But generous-hearted Lady Clancarty thought 
 of neither Alice nor the earl. Light of foot as 
 any fawn, she flew over the green after the 
 stranger's retreating figure, for he had turned 
 in another direction and was leading a black 
 horse by the bridle. The swift run and the 
 excitement of the moment brought the blood 
 
 37
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 to Betty's cheeks, and she panted for breath 
 when she overtook him. 
 
 He turned with a smile. " What, lass," he 
 said gayly, " hast come for your kiss ? " 
 
 Lady Clancarty gasped and grew crimson 
 with shame ; then drawing herself up to her 
 full height, she flashed at him a look of wither- 
 ing scorn. 
 
 " You mistake, sir," she said haughtily, " you 
 are addressing Lady Clancarty." 
 
 He took off his hat and the long plumes 
 swept the ground at her feet as he made her a 
 profound obeisance. 
 
 " I beseech your ladyship's pardon," he said, 
 graceful and gracious but not one whit 
 abashed, " my eyes were dazzled else they 
 would have made no such mistake." 
 
 But Betty would not be appeased ; like a 
 child who has been naughty and repented, she 
 tried to appear as if it had not been. She was 
 cold and haughty. 
 
 " Sir, I would merely warn you to be less 
 careless of your French gold at Northampton," 
 she said ; " we do not love St. Germain here," 
 and with a courtesy as low as his bow she 
 left him. 
 
 Left him staring after her with a glow in his 
 
 gray eyes. 
 
 . . . 
 
 38
 
 In the floods of Althorpe 
 
 Alice Lynn usually slept in a little anteroom 
 of Lady Betty's bedchamber, and that night 
 as she lay abed she was awakened suddenly. 
 The room was full of moonlight, and in it 
 stood Lady Betty in her night-rail, a charm- 
 ing figure, with softly dishevelled hair about 
 her shoulders, and eyes that seemed to sparkle 
 in the pale duskiness of her face. The tire- 
 woman started up in alarm. 
 
 " My lady, oh, my lady ! " she cried, " are 
 you ill ? Has aught happened ? " 
 
 " Hush, no, no ! " whispered Lady Betty, 
 with a soft little laugh ; " but, Alice, did n't 
 you notice that he said c by Saint Patrick ' ? " 
 
 " He ! Who ? " groaned poor Alice sleepily. 
 
 " The stranger, little goose ! " 
 
 " Nay, madam," said the poor handmaid ; 
 " I noticed naught but his bold eyes ; I was 
 afraid of him." 
 
 " Nonsense ! " Lady Betty exclaimed with 
 a gesture of impatience ; and she tripped lightly 
 to the window and stood looking -out over the 
 moonlit park. 
 
 Alice yawned, drawing herself together on 
 the edge of her bed in a crumpled attitude, one 
 pink foot swinging near the floor ; she was 
 fairly nodding with sleep. Not so her mistress. 
 Lady Betty brushed the soft hair from her face 
 
 39
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 and stood in the moonlight a lovely figure, 
 half revealed and half concealed by thin white 
 draperies. 
 
 " I wonder," she said musingly, " if if 
 Clancarty looks at all like this man ? " 
 
 " I cannot tell, madam," replied Alice de- 
 murely ; " but it may be so." 
 
 " You rogue ! " laughed her mistress, " you 
 would insinuate that two rakes may well re- 
 semble each other ! Ah, Alice, he is my hus- 
 band, mind you that, and a woman's husband 
 is not as other men." 
 
 " You know him not at all, my lady," yawned 
 Alice, rubbing her eyes, " and if he 's like 
 some " 
 
 " Fudge, my girl, what do you know of hus- 
 bands ? " said Betty gayly ; " I believe you have 
 never even glanced out of the tail of that blue 
 eye of yours at any bold gallant yet." 
 
 The handmaid sighed sleepily. 
 
 " 'T is better so, my lady," she said meekly. 
 
 " The parson not excepted ! " laughed Lady 
 Betty, dancing back lightly over the floor and 
 pinching the girl's cheek as she passed. 
 
 " Oh ! that my hero had his throne, 
 That Erin's cloud of war were flown, 
 That proudest prince would own his sway 
 Over the hills and far away ! " 
 40
 
 In the Woods of Althorpe 
 
 sang my lady, taking dancing steps as she 
 tripped toward her own door; she was full of 
 gayety, incorrigible and delightful as ever, 
 though the great clock on the stairs was strik- 
 ing twelve. But Alice sighed drearily, and her 
 mistress heard her. 
 
 " Poor lass ! " she laughed, " go to sleep ; I 
 am a heartless wretch," and she ran off laugh- 
 ing to her room, and Alice sank on her pillows 
 again with a sigh of despair.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 LADY SUNDERLAND 
 
 IT was at night too, a week later, that Lady 
 Betty's coach rumbled up the long street 
 at Newmarket. But no moon shone ; 
 instead, the rain came down in torrents and 
 the wind dashed it against the glass windows 
 and rattled and shook the heavy doors, while 
 the horses slipped and floundered, knee deep 
 in mud ; the great coach itself lurched heavily 
 out of one huge rut into another, and the pos- 
 tilions, dripping and profane, cracked their 
 whips and shouted. Lady Clancarty and her 
 attendants, Alice Lynn and the woman, Me- 
 lissa Thurle, bounced about within the vehicle, 
 coming now and then into collision with end- 
 less boxes and bundles, a part only of the 
 countess' impedimenta, the most perishable, 
 and therefore gathered within the carriage to 
 save it from the deluge, instead of being 
 strapped on top with the heavier luggage. 
 
 Through the moist darkness lights began to 
 twinkle. As they neared the inn these lan-
 
 Lady Sunderland 
 
 terns increased in numbers, their yellow radi- 
 ance dimmed and blurred by the rain but 
 showing in a broad circle of warmth before the 
 tavern door. There, too, the water flooding 
 the kennels had poured out, making a small 
 lake in the courtyard. The coach went 
 splashing into it and halted with muddy water 
 rising to the hubs. The inn door was open, and 
 the hall overflowed with noise and good cheer ; 
 lackeys and grooms came bustling at the sound 
 of an arrival ; and at the sight of a private car- 
 riage, with an earl's crest emblazoned upon the 
 door, mine host himself came hurrying forward 
 but stood aghast at the puddle. 
 
 " Here, you varlets," he shouted, clapping 
 his hands, "a plank from the door to the car- 
 riage steps, or her ladyship cannot descend." 
 
 Her ladyship's roguish face was at the win- 
 dow as he spoke and she watched the men 
 placing a board for her. As they opened the 
 coach door the innkeeper bowed low, his 
 broad back in the air, but stepping carefully 
 on the plank and tottering uneasily, for he 
 was a stout man and in terror of falling head- 
 long into the flood. 
 
 " Who have I the honor to serve, my lady ? " 
 he inquired, all smiles in spite of his perilous 
 position. 
 
 43
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 " Venus rising from the waves, sir," replied 
 Lady Betty flippantly, as she sprang lightly 
 across the improvised bridge, scarcely touching 
 his shoulder with her fingers and quite regard- 
 less of his open-mouthed astonishment. 
 
 " Look to it that my women are not 
 drowned ! " she added imperiously, as he re- 
 treated after her, leaving her attendants to 
 climb out unassisted. 
 
 But the man was sorely perplexed by her 
 ladyship's announcement of herself, and he 
 only stared at her, trying to place her in the 
 gallery of a fertile brain well stored with great 
 ladies ; but this face albeit one of the most 
 charming he had ever seen was not among 
 them, and he stared, perhaps a trifle rudely, 
 for Lady Betty's eye, suddenly alighting on 
 him, her chin went up. 
 
 " You will show me to my Lady Sunder- 
 land's apartments," she said in an icy tone, as 
 she waved her hand toward the stair. 
 
 In a moment the innkeeper's supple back 
 bent double again ; he threw out his fat hands 
 and stammered a hundred apologies. 
 
 " Lady Sunderland did not look for your 
 ladyship until to-morrow," he sputtered, hur- 
 rying on ahead, while Lady Clancarty followed, 
 with her chin still scornfully elevated, her two 
 
 44
 
 Lady Sunder/and 
 
 weary and dishevelled women behind her. 
 " The countess will be rejoiced we are all 
 rejoiced, your ladyship ; the storm was so 
 heavy, the roads so fearful, we scarcely dared 
 to hope that your carriage would reach New- 
 market to-night," continued the host, all smiles 
 again, rubbing his hands and flourishing before 
 her ladyship. 
 
 But Lady Betty walked on in silence, scarce 
 glancing at him as he opened a door and, with 
 many flourishes and bows, announced her at 
 the threshold and stood aside, still bowing, to 
 let her pass into a large, well-lighted room, 
 where a bright fire burned upon the hearth, 
 great logs ablaze upon the high, polished brass 
 andirons. The dark wood floor was polished 
 too, reflecting the blaze, and in a great chair 
 by the fire sat a woman past middle age, yet 
 showing little of her years, and dressed in the 
 extreme affectation of a youthful fashion, a 
 petticoat of white brocade, which was short in 
 front to show her feet in white and gold pan- 
 toffles, and a bodice and overdress of peachblow 
 satin ; a face that had been handsome and was 
 now much rouged, the eyes brightened by 
 dark rings beneath them, while her hair or 
 her periwig was frizzed full at the sides 
 after a fashion much in vogue in the time of 
 
 45
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 Charles the Second. Her throat was covered 
 with jewels, and her hands and arms ; on either 
 side of her stood two young men of fashion, 
 beaux of Newmarket, in gay velvet coats and 
 ruffles of lace, and long curled and scented 
 French periwigs, white satin breeches and silk 
 stockings, and slippers with high red heels, 
 then much in favor at Versailles. 
 
 It was a group that amused Lady Clancarty, 
 the great lady and her two youthful admir- 
 ers, for Betty knew her mother well. They in 
 their turn stared a little at the traveller's unex- 
 pected advent, and for a moment no one spoke. 
 There was a strange contrast between the 
 painted and bejewelled countess and her daugh- 
 ter : Lady Clancarty wore a long, dark riding- 
 coat with capes, her full skirts trailing below the 
 coat, and her hat a large one with plumes 
 set over her brows. The cool damp night air 
 had brought the freshness of a rose to her cheeks 
 and her eyes sparkled as she viewed the party 
 by the fire, and made her mother a courtesy. 
 
 " I have been in the deluge, madam," she 
 said gayly. " Faith ! I had expected to be 
 drowned, but lo ! our ark landed here, and 
 here am I a dove with an olive branch, in 
 fact for I come with kind messages from 
 Althorpe for your ladyship." 
 
 46
 
 Lady Sunderland 
 
 " My dear Betty," said Lady Sunderland, 
 recovering from her amazement, " I am de- 
 lighted ; come and kiss me, my love, and here 
 my Lord Savile and Mr. Benham, this is 
 my daughter, Lady Elizabeth Spencer." 
 
 The young men bowed profoundly, Lord 
 Savile's bold eyes on Lady Betty's face, for he 
 saw it flush with sudden indignation. 
 
 " My mother's memory plays her false," 
 she said coldly, scarcely acknowledging their 
 greetings ; " I am the Countess of Clancarty." 
 
 Lady Sunderland laughed angrily but pre- 
 tended to be merry. 
 
 " The child is foolish about a trifle," she 
 said, winking behind her fan at young Savile. 
 "We can afford to humor her whims, my lord; 
 we will call her Lady Clancarty." 
 
 " We shall call her ladyship divine, if she 
 wills it," replied Lord Savile, with a smile at 
 Betty ; " it is all one to us as long as she is 
 pleased." 
 
 Lady Clancarty's foot tapped the floor im- 
 patiently and there was a dangerous sparkle 
 in her eyes. Lady Sunderland observed her 
 uneasily. 
 
 " My love, you are tired," she said, mildly 
 solicitous, " sit down and let me send for a cup 
 of tea ; Mr. Benham ah, my lord, thank 
 
 47
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 you, yes, the bell a dish of tea for Lady 
 Spen Lady Clancarty. There there, my 
 dear, don't frown at me; it is all quite ridicu- 
 lous ! Mr. Benham will arrange the cushions 
 in that chair for you ; I don't know what I 
 should do without him! We were playing 
 gleek, Betty, when you were announced." 
 
 Betty was now ensconced in an armchair by 
 the fire, her little feet on the cushion that Mr. 
 Benham had placed for her ; and she viewed the 
 situation with an expression more composed. 
 
 " Yes, I take tea," she said to Lord Savile, 
 who was handing her a smoking cup, " and 
 what is this ? " she added, for he had managed 
 to drop a flower from his buttonhole into her 
 lap with an air of gallantry. 
 
 "A poor blossom," he said gracefully, "to 
 compare with such a rose as blooms here 
 to-night." 
 
 Lady Betty looked at him and then at the 
 flower curiously. 
 
 "Ah," she said calmly sipping her tea, "it 
 is a rose I thought 't was a thistle! " 
 
 Lady Sunderland coughed and dropped her 
 fan and frowned at her daughter; but the 
 incorrigible countess did not glance in her 
 direction. She was smiling blandly at the fire 
 and warming first one foot and then the other. 
 
 48
 
 Lady Sunder/and 
 
 " You are from Althorpe ? " Mr. Benham 
 asked, smiling at the beauty, for he was not 
 displeased at Lord Savile's discomfiture ; " and 
 my friend, Spencer, is there now." 
 
 " He is indeed," replied Betty, with a sigh, 
 " and may he stay there ! " she added men- 
 tally ; but to Mr. Benham, " Has the king 
 come ? " 
 
 " He came yesterday, and with him, Lord 
 Albemarle ; the Princess Anne is here too, 
 and my Lady Marlborough." 
 
 " Dear me," said Lady Betty, with an un- 
 concealed yawn, "the world is here, it seems, 
 and I am so weary that I must crave your 
 ladyship's license to retire." 
 
 " Nay," said Mr. Benham gallantly, " it is 
 my lord and I who should retire and permit 
 your ladyship to rest." 
 
 "I protest!" cried Lady Sunderland ; "the 
 gleek was but half played." 
 
 But she made no great effort to detain them ; 
 indeed, she wanted an opportunity to speak 
 plainly to her daughter, so the beaux were 
 allowed to bow themselves out, with more than 
 one lingering glance at the beautiful, haughty 
 face by the fireside. No sooner was the door 
 closed, however, than Lady Sunderland turned 
 on her daughter. 
 
 4 49
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 "Your folly passes belief, Elizabeth," she 
 said tartly, quite oblivious of the two attendants 
 quietly waiting in the background ; " I am 
 tired of the name of Clancarty; your father 
 and I intend to divorce the rascal. To parade 
 the matter as you do is simply childish, my 
 love, quite childish." 
 
 Lady Betty sipped her tea and looked into 
 the fire. 
 
 " I am not divorced," she remarked placidly, 
 " and Lord Clancarty, being a Romanist, may 
 object to divorces." 
 
 Lady Sunderland laughed unpleasantly, tap- 
 ping her fan on the arm of her chair. 
 
 " Lord Clancarty has probably never re- 
 spected his marriage," she remarked, in a 
 biting tone, though she smiled; "you are very 
 childish, Elizabeth, for your years." 
 
 " I am quite advanced," her daughter re- 
 plied, rising and setting her cup on the table 
 where the cards were scattered, "and perhaps 
 I am too old to think of divorces." 
 
 "Nonsense," Lady Sunderland said frown- 
 ing, " your father and I mean to see you well 
 married when we are rid of this Irish nuisance." 
 
 "Indeed," said Lady Betty coldly, elevating 
 her brows, " to whom ? My Lord Savile, for 
 instance, or Mr, Benham ? " 
 
 5
 
 Lady Sunderland 
 
 " You might do worse," retorted Lady Sun- 
 derland stiffly ; " they are both fine young men 
 and in favor at court." 
 
 " Precisely," said Lady Betty, " and 't is 
 strange that my taste is so perverted. Dear 
 madam, I bid you good-night. We will dis- 
 cuss their excellencies later; now I am perish- 
 ing with sleep," and she dropped her mother 
 a courtesy and slipped out of the room, leaving 
 the older countess frowning and biting her 
 lips, the rouge showing red on her cheeks. 
 
 But once alone with Alice Lynn, Betty 
 laughed, with tears shining in her eyes. 
 
 "Ah, the trap is set, Alice, dear," she said> 
 " the trap is set, if only this poor little mouse 
 will nibble at the cheese ! "
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 LADY BETTY'S TOILET 
 
 NIGHT and the rain departed together. 
 The wind had swept the sky clear, 
 not even a white feather curled there ; 
 it was blue blue as English skies seldom are. 
 Lady Betty, opening her own window shutter, 
 looked up and smiled, and then looked down 
 into the courtyard of the inn. The waters 
 were subsiding, and the uneven flagging showed 
 muddy, wet and glistening in the sunlight. 
 To the left lay the stables, where she could 
 occasionally hear a horse neigh or stamp an 
 impatient foot. To the right the court was 
 railed off by an old balustrade of gray stone, 
 mossy and green with age and opening in the 
 centre with two vases on either side filled with 
 geraniums and mignonette. Between these, 
 steps descended into an old garden, laid out in 
 quaint flower-beds, surrounded with rows of 
 box that hedged in the winding gravel paths 
 and grew high as a man's head. It was Sep- 
 
 52
 
 Lady Betty s Toilet 
 
 tember, but many flowers bloomed there be- 
 sides the roses ; though it was but poorly 
 tended at this late season, it was still a spot of 
 beauty for the guests of the tavern to look 
 upon, and there was a restful air about it, a 
 fragrance and quaintness, with the early sun- 
 shine on it. It was so early, indeed, that the 
 garden was deserted, and only the stable-boys 
 were stirring and the servants running to and 
 fro across the court engaged in preparations for 
 breakfast. Here and there was a red-coated 
 hostler, and one of these was leading a black 
 horse up and down. The horse had just been 
 unsaddled and was heated from hard riding. 
 There was mud on his flanks, too, which was 
 natural enough after the storm, and there were 
 flecks of foam upon his breast. Lady Betty 
 looked at him long and pensively, noting that 
 the bridle was not of English make ; the man, 
 too, who had him, was a stranger, for the other 
 hostlers did not speak to him, and his broad, 
 humorous face and twinkling black eyes were 
 quite un-English. He was a short man, with 
 bowed legs and a bulky frame, plainly dressed 
 as the plainest groom of a gentleman could be, 
 and yet these two, the horse and man, held 
 Lady Betty's attention long so long, indeed, 
 that she did not notice the soft opening of a 
 
 53
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 door, or the soft tread on the floor behind her, 
 and started to find Melissa Thurle at her 
 elbow. 
 
 The woman had a smooth face and pale eyes 
 that squinted like those of a near-sighted per- 
 son, though she was not short-sighted. She 
 moved, too, as softly as a cat, and her manners 
 were always apologetic, humbly ingratiating; 
 she cringed a little now under Lady Betty's 
 eye. 
 
 " Where is Alice ? " Lady Clancarty de- 
 manded sharply. 
 
 " Her ladyship, your mother, sent for her," 
 Melissa said gently ; " her tirewoman is ill to- 
 day, and Lady Sunderland sent to your rooms 
 for one." 
 
 " Why did Alice go ? " asked Lady Betty 
 imperiously. " You know you cannot do my 
 hair; besides, you would suit my mother exactly. 
 Why did you stay here ? " 
 
 Melissa looked down meekly. " My lady, 
 the countess sent for Alice Lynn," she replied. 
 
 Lady Betty's brows went up. " Strange," 
 she remarked ; " we all know that she will not 
 be up until eleven, why Alice now? I can- 
 not do without Alice." 
 
 " I will do my best, my lady," Melissa said, 
 with a deprecating purr ; " if you will but choose 
 
 54
 
 Lady Betty s Toilet 
 
 your costume for the races I can surely arrange 
 everything for you quite as well as Alice, and 
 indeed your ladyship needs no very skilful 
 tirewoman ; where there is so much beauty 
 there is no need for much skill." 
 
 Betty eyed the woman with a distinct feeling 
 of repugnance and yet thought herself unjust. 
 
 " Go fetch me a dish of tea," she said lan- 
 guidly, " and I will think about to-day. Dear 
 me, what a bore it is to wear clothes ; if only 
 one had feathers ! " 
 
 Melissa stared but went to fetch the tea, a 
 luxury much affected by the rich, for tea-drink- 
 ing came into fashion at the East India houses 
 in the time of Charles the Second. 
 
 Lady Betty did not wish the tea ; however, 
 she wanted to be rid of Melissa, and she went 
 back to the window and looked out eagerly. 
 The black horse and groom were both gone, 
 and she turned away disappointed. 
 
 Two hours later, Alice being still with Lady 
 Sunderland, Melissa Thurle dressed Lady 
 Clancarty for the gala day at the Newmarket 
 races. And a wonderful work it was to dress 
 a belle in those days of brocaded farthingales 
 and long, narrow-waisted bodices, and heads 
 covered with many waves and puffs and ringlets. 
 It was not then the fashion to powder the hair, 
 
 55
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 and Lady Betty's beautiful glossy black tresses 
 curled naturally, so that Melissa's task was not 
 the most difficult. The mass of soft, wavy hair 
 was knotted low on the back of the head and 
 escaped in curls about the brow and cheeks and 
 fell upon the neck, while one or two black 
 patches on brow and cheek were supposed to 
 enhance the whiteness of the complexion. 
 Melissa was skilful enough, in spite of her 
 mistress' prejudices, and her deft fingers ar- 
 ranged the curls, letting some escape in coquet- 
 tish waves and ringlets and binding others 
 back into the loose knot, which still allowed 
 them to ripple in a lovely confusion. 
 
 Lady Betty sat, meanwhile, before a dress- 
 ing-table, furnished with a small oval glass in 
 which she could not only watch Melissa, but 
 could observe, also, every curve and dimple of 
 her own charming face. Whether its reflec- 
 tion really satisfied her, or she had other and 
 more fruitful sources of content, can only be 
 conjectured, but certain it is that she smiled 
 a little and bore the tirewoman's deft touches 
 with apparent complacence. Melissa, encour- 
 aged by her expression, began to talk to her 
 in a soft purring fashion as she worked. 
 
 " The house is full, my lady," she said, 
 " 't is all agog below stairs now, and 't is said 
 
 56
 
 Lady Betty s Toilet 
 
 there are two dukes, an earl, and five baronets 
 under this roof, besides the countess and your 
 ladyship." 
 
 " Dear me," said Lady Betty, " who are 
 all these great people, and when did they 
 come? " 
 
 " The Duke of Bedford has been here two 
 days, my lady," replied the newscarrier, " and 
 the Duke of Ormond came yesterday ; Mr. 
 Godolphin, too, and Lord Wharton, the 
 others ? I know not when they came." 
 
 "Who came this morning?" asked her 
 mistress carelessly, at the same moment turn- 
 ing her head to admire a new knot that Me- 
 lissa had made of her hair. 
 
 The tirewoman stopped, comb in hand, and 
 admired too, her narrow eyes more narrow 
 than usual. 
 
 "This morning ? " she repeated thoughtfully, 
 " I cannot think, oh, yes, one of the house- 
 maids told me that a stranger came late, on a 
 black horse that he had ridden hard." 
 
 Lady Clancarty listened attentively, forget- 
 ting to appear indifferent, and unconscious of 
 the peculiar vigilance of Melissa's pale eyes. 
 
 " The horse was in the yard this morning 
 and showed hard riding," she said thought- 
 fully. " Who was the stranger, Melissa ? " 
 
 57
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 " 'T is said he is a horse jockey from Lon- 
 don," purred the tirewoman. 
 
 Her mistress darted a searching look at her 
 but read nothing in that smooth face that was 
 by nature as placid as a platter. 
 
 " Bring me my pale blue paduasoy petti- 
 coat, Thurle," Lady Betty said, sharply im- 
 perious, " and my white and silver brocaded 
 gown, and the mantle of silver lace, and my 
 hat with the white plumes. Do you not know 
 how to fasten a petticoat ? there so ! 
 and, stupid, my white silk stockings with the 
 blue clocks, and the French slippers with blue 
 enamel buckles," and she made the woman 
 fetch garment after garment with alacrity, and 
 the glow in her cheeks would have warned 
 even a less observant person than Melissa that 
 Lady Clancarty was out of temper. 
 
 But the woman's smooth manner remained 
 unruffled, and not even angry words made her 
 ringers quiver. She arrayed Lady Clancarty 
 from head to foot, deftly and swiftly, and when 
 the task was completed, and the beauty looked 
 at her own reflection, a smile was forced to 
 play about her lips, for never had a mirror 
 reflected a vision more charming. Lady Betty, 
 with her rich coloring, her full white throat, 
 her perfect form, clad in a marvellous gown of 
 
 58
 
 Lady Betty s Toilet 
 
 white and silver, ruffled and ruffled with lace, 
 and looped up at one side a little to show the 
 blue petticoat ; open, too, to show a neck as 
 white as snow, and arms to match were half 
 revealed by the elbow sleeves, while her hat 
 cast a shadow on those sparkling eyes. She 
 gave the vision a look and then turned and 
 motioned Melissa away. 
 
 "You have done very well, Thurle," she 
 said calmly, " and now you may go ah, here 
 is Alice ! " and she relented at the sight of her 
 favorite attendant. 
 
 Melissa, meanwhile, humble as usual, cour- 
 tesied and withdrew, but not without casting a 
 lingering look behind her. 
 
 When the door closed, Lady Betty gave her 
 gown a few touches, turning around before the 
 mirror again. 
 
 " Will I do, Alice ? " she asked. 
 
 "Supremely well, madam," Alice replied 
 soberly, standing off to view her with a critical 
 eye. 
 
 Lady Betty turned suddenly and laid her 
 hand on the girl's shoulder. 
 
 " Hast said thy catechism, Alice ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 The handmaid looked up at her blankly, 
 her slower mind struggling to understand. 
 
 59
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 " What, my lady ?" 
 
 "Your catechism, goosie," repeated Lady 
 Clancarty laughing; " did not my mother ques- 
 tion you close of me ? " 
 
 " She did, madam," retorted Alice bluntly, 
 with an ingenuous blush, " she asked me many 
 questions." 
 
 " And what answer did you give ? " asked 
 her mistress smiling. 
 
 " Truthful answers, dear Lady Betty," Alice 
 replied earnestly, apparently much troubled, 
 " save when I answered not at all." 
 
 " You did not answer ! " exclaimed her mis- 
 tress, in surprise, " and wherefore ? " 
 
 " Because she asked me what you said to 
 me of of my Lord Clancarty," stammered 
 Alice, " and, madam, that I will not tell ! " 
 
 Betty laughed and blushed, and suddenly 
 she kissed the girl. 
 
 60
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 AT THE RACES 
 
 THERE was no finer race-course in the 
 country in those days than the long 
 heath at Newmarket, and there for 
 years the court of England kept festival. 
 Charles the Second came there, with a train 
 of gay and dissolute courtiers and fair, frail 
 women ; there too came the more solemn 
 James with much the same following, if a more 
 decorous manner prevailed, and there came 
 that silent, collected, small man, whose body 
 so little expressed his soul, one of the greatest 
 men of his time, William the Third. 
 
 The king came to his summer palace, and 
 the great lords kept up their state about him. 
 Euston was famed for the balls of my Lord 
 Arlington in the days of Charles the Second, 
 and times were little changed in that respect. 
 In contrast to the courtly splendor, the heath 
 was fringed with an encampment as gay and 
 varied as any gypsy gathering. Here were 
 
 61
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 people of all conditions : gypsies, in fact, in 
 their gay raiment, telling fortunes on the edge 
 of the throng, strolling players, dancing bears 
 and merry Andrews, and the farmers' families 
 come as to a festival to see the stream of 
 fashion. For here were all the great ; even the 
 cock-pit at noon was surrounded by stars and 
 ribbons, and there were hunting and hawking 
 and riding. There too were the long gowns 
 and black caps of the University dons, so well 
 received by William, mingling with the motley 
 throng. The world, melted down mto this 
 little space, throbbed and bubbled like a caul- 
 dron filled and boiling over, and never paused 
 except for the sermon on a Sunday. 
 
 At midday when the king went to the race- 
 course all Newmarket streamed out at his heels, 
 from the highest peers and greatest courtiers to 
 the pickpockets of London ; from my Lord 
 of Devonshire to Captain Dick the horse 
 jockey ; from an orange girl of Drury Lane 
 to the Princess of Denmark ; the high and 
 the low, the rich man and the cutpurse, all 
 were there, and in that mass of many-colored 
 costumes, like a bed of King William's tulips at 
 Loo, there were a thousand emotions, hopes, 
 fears, hatreds, and ambitions. Money flowed 
 like water, and wagers ran high ; fortunes were 
 
 62
 
 At the Races 
 
 made and unmade, and the faces of men and 
 women had often the tense expression of the 
 gambler. But whatever evil was there and 
 much there was was hidden under an air of 
 jollity, and the setting of the scene was as 
 variegated as a rainbow. 
 
 The long course was cleared for the horses, 
 and on either side, and especially about the 
 pavilion of the king, the crowd was packed 
 close, palpitating and murmuring in the sun- 
 shine, white and pink, blue and crimson, green 
 and gold, ribbon upon ribbon of color, men 
 and women vying with each other in the bril- 
 liant beauty and richness of apparel ; and behind, 
 the great emblazoned coaches drawn usually 
 by Flanders horses stood tier upon tier, 
 sometimes empty, when their owners were 
 promenading, sometimes brimful of lovely 
 smiling faces and fluttering fans ; and beyond 
 these, the farmers and teamsters, gypsies and 
 tipsters, honest men and thieves. Meanwhile 
 the jockeys rode their horses out upon the 
 turf for exercise and inspection ; no people 
 loved a fine horse better than the English, and 
 it put the throng in an excellent humor. 
 
 In the midst of the satins and velvets, goldlace 
 and jewels, one small man was plainly dressed in 
 dark colors with a star upon his breast, a 
 
 63
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 man with a pale, dark face and sparkling dark 
 eyes. Every head was bared before him, and 
 every great dame there courtesied almost to 
 the ground, and the trumpets sounded as King 
 William took his place. The warm September 
 air was filled with the hum of many voices, the 
 trampling of horses, the blare of military music, 
 and the great races began when the king quietly 
 waved his hand. 
 
 Lady Sunderland kept her seat in her own 
 carriage, and all the old beaux of the court 
 came there to pay their compliments and ex- 
 change rare morsels of gossip with her lady- 
 ship, whose wit was keen as her tongue was 
 merciless. But Lady Clancarty was not of this 
 party. She had left her seat in the gorgeously 
 emblazoned coach, and escorted by my Lord 
 of Devonshire himself, she made her way nearer 
 to the scene of action. Though she had lived 
 much at Althorpe, Lady Clancarty was not un- 
 known, and she was greeted on every hand as 
 she passed. Her beauty, her winning address, 
 the place her father occupied in the king's favor, 
 made her at once the cynosure of all eyes. Old 
 beaux and young ones crowded forward for an 
 introduction. Devonshire stood near her, 
 Ormond and Bedford joined her coterie ; in 
 fact, in two hours Lady Betty was the belle of 
 
 64
 
 At the Races 
 
 Newmarket. She looked about her smiling, 
 roguish, keenly amused, and everywhere she 
 read approbation and admiration, not only in 
 the faces that she knew, but in the strange 
 ones. Everywhere men paid her homage ; 
 over there the courtiers of the Princess Anne 
 were thinning out ; the circle of my Lady Marl- 
 borough grew narrower, but Lady Betty's ex- 
 tended like a whirlpool. In the midst of her 
 little triumph, she saw a tall man coming toward 
 her, singling her out amidst all the others ; his 
 dress was plain and his periwig was of a differ- 
 ent fashion, but she could not mistake that eye 
 or that bearing ; she had seen both in the 
 woods of Althorpe. In a moment more he 
 was bowing before her, and Ormond introduced 
 him. 
 
 " My dear Lady Betty, let me present 
 another admirer, Mr. Richard Trevor; an 
 Irishman as I would have your ladyship know," 
 the duke added in her ear, with a laugh. 
 
 Lady Clancarty courtesied, casting a roguish 
 look at the stranger. 
 
 " Faith, we have met before, my lord," she 
 said, and laughed softly. 
 
 " Twice before, my lady," corrected Mr. 
 Trevor, smiling into her eyes. 
 
 Betty stared. " Once, sir," she said. 
 5 65
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 " As you will, Lady Clancarty," he replied, 
 and smiled again, the dare-devil leaping up in 
 his gray eyes and Betty blushed. 
 
 At the moment Lord Savile came up with 
 Mr. Benham. 
 
 " Are you betting, Savile ? " asked the Duke 
 of Devonshire, with a smiling glance at the 
 young man. 
 
 Savile made a wry face. 
 
 " Confound it, my lord, I Ve lost fifty 
 pounds on my mare, Lady Clara," he said, 
 " and Benham here has made a hundred on 
 that little black mare of Godolphin's, the 
 devil 's in it." 
 
 " Ah, look at them ! " cried Betty, pointing 
 at the track, " they come flying like birds. Is 
 that your black mare in the lead, Mr. Ben- 
 ham ? " 
 
 " I '11 hang for it, if he has n't won again," 
 ejaculated Lord Savile, as they leaned forward 
 to watch the squad of horses coming in on the 
 home stretch. 
 
 There could scarcely be a finer sight : the 
 smooth turf, the shimmer of sunshine, the 
 beautiful animals running fleetly, for the joy 
 of it, heads out, eyes flashing fire, foam on 
 the lips, and manes flying, while the jockeys, 
 like knots of color, hung low over their necks. 
 
 66
 
 At the Races 
 
 The sharp clip of steel-shod feet, a stream of 
 color, sparks flying, and they were past, going 
 on to the stakes, while silence fell on the great 
 throng of people ; men scarcely breathed, every 
 eye strained after them. Then suddenly a shout 
 of exultation and despair, strangely mingled, 
 and the whole crowd blossoming out into a mass 
 of waving handkerchiefs and tossing hats. 
 
 " Ah, was there ever anything so pretty ! " 
 cried Lady Betty ; " there is nothing finer than 
 a beautiful horse." 
 
 " Except a beautiful woman," said my Lord 
 of Ormond gallantly. 
 
 " Pray, my lord, do not put us in the same 
 category," said Lady Betty laughing; "'tis 
 said that some men rate their horses dearer 
 than their wives." 
 
 " That is because there are so few Lady 
 Clancartys," replied Ormond smiling, and 
 Betty swept him a courtesy. 
 
 " Benham 's won again," remarked Savile, 
 too chagrined to notice anything else. 
 
 " And so have I," said Mr. Trevor, with a 
 little smile; "'tis an ill wind that blows nobody 
 good." 
 
 Savile eyed him from head to foot ; his 
 quick ear had detected a peculiarity of voice 
 and accent. 
 
 67
 
 My Lady Clan car ty 
 
 "Are you from Ireland, sir?" he asked 
 insolently. 
 
 "Where gentlemen are bred, yes, my 
 lord," replied Trevor, his gray eyes gleaming 
 like steel. 
 
 Lady Betty stirred uneasily. " Whose horse 
 was that which came in last ? " she asked. 
 
 " Savile's," laughed Benham, " don't you 
 see his brow of thunder? " 
 
 " Hard luck, my boy," remarked Lord 
 Devonshire, smiling, " but there are many 
 here who will have worse to-day." 
 
 " Ay, and the king's cough is worse," re- 
 marked Ormond significantly. 
 
 " Dr. Radcliffe told him that he would not 
 have his two legs for his three kingdoms," said 
 Lord Savile, with a sullen laugh. 
 
 Devonshire smiled a little and so did Or- 
 mond, but Lady Betty looked straight before 
 her over the sunny turf. 
 
 " My Lord Savile," she said, " the king has 
 the wisest head in Europe." 
 
 " A king is richest in the hearts that love 
 him," said Richard Trevor smoothly, " and 
 the King of England is rich in these." 
 
 Lady Betty darted a quick glance at him, 
 and so did my Lord of Ormond, but they read 
 nothing. It was a handsome, daring face, with 
 
 68
 
 At the Races 
 
 gray eyes and thin lips, a face to fear in 
 anger. 
 
 " There are riddles and innuendoes every- 
 where," remarked Lord Savile with a shrug ; 
 " one knows not how to read them." 
 
 " What I say, I am quite ready to explain, 
 my lord," Trevor replied smiling, his eyes 
 hard as flint. 
 
 As he spoke my Lady Sunderland came up 
 from her carriage, and with her two other dames 
 of fashion. In the stir and flutter of their 
 entrance, Lady Betty and the two young men, 
 Trevor and Lord Savile, were, to all intents 
 and purposes, alone, and she was perforce a 
 listener to their talk, which was by no means 
 friendly. 
 
 Lord Savile thrust his hands into his pockets. 
 
 " What flowers bloom at Saint Germain, 
 sir ? " he asked, with a drawl. 
 
 " The poppies of Neerwinden, I am told," 
 replied the Irishman. 
 
 Lord Savile's face turned scarlet. " A very 
 vile joke, sir," he said, in a low voice, " and 
 one you may repent of here ! " 
 
 "When I am in the society of informers - 
 it may be so," replied Trevor haughtily and 
 very low, intending it only for my lord's ear, 
 but Lady Betty heard it. 
 
 69
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 " I would fain walk a little way," she said 
 suddenly, turning on them, " they will not 
 race again for half an hour, and I feel the heat 
 here. My Lord Savile, will you make way 
 for me through the crowd ? " 
 
 " I will, my lady," Trevor said, offering his 
 arm. 
 
 " Nay, sir," retorted Savile, " I am the lady's 
 friend, not you." 
 
 Trevor noticed him as little as a poodle ; he 
 still smiled and offered his hand to Lady 
 Betty. 
 
 " Lady Clancarty will choose, sir, not you," 
 he said contemptuously. 
 
 " Lady Clancarty will go with me," cried 
 Savile, hotly and authoritatively. 
 
 " Faith, she will not, sir," said Betty laugh- 
 ing ; " Lady Clancarty will be commanded by 
 none, my lord, and Mr. Trevor will do her 
 this small service. But there are my thanks 
 for your kindness." 
 
 And she courtesied prettily before she laid 
 her hand lightly on the stranger's -arm and 
 moved at his side through the throng toward 
 the open heath beyond. Their progress was 
 necessarily slow, and followed by many ad- 
 miring glances, for the roses had deepened in 
 Lady Betty's cheeks. The tall Irishman be- 
 
 7
 
 At the Races 
 
 side her was no less a striking figure ; his 
 height and proportions, the clean-cut face, 
 steel-gray eyes, and close-shut thin lips had a 
 history of their own ; no one could doubt it. 
 
 As for Lord Savile, he stood fuming and 
 vowing vengeance on the cursed Irish Jacobite, 
 as he was pleased to name his rival ; if a stanch 
 Whig hated any man, by instinct, he must 
 needs be a Papist and a Jacobite.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 LADY BETTY AND AN IRISH JACOBITE 
 
 LADY BETTY and her companion 
 walked on. The crowd, still huzzaing 
 and noisy about the victors, was 
 dropped behind them, all its gorgeous colors 
 knotted into one huge rosette upon the track ; 
 beyond were green meadows and the blue 
 shadows of a grove of limes. The two walked 
 slowly, Lady Betty a little in advance, her long 
 skirts gathered in one hand, the other holding 
 her fan, the sun and the breeze kissing the 
 soft curves of her cheeks. Beside her, hold- 
 ing his hat behind his back, was Richard 
 Trevor, his eyes on her, while hers were on the 
 landscape ; the long, level stretch of turf, the 
 grove of limes, and farther off veiled in 
 golden mist the wavy outlines of forest and 
 hills. Above, the sky was blue blue as 
 larkspur ; the air was sweet too, as if the fra- 
 grance of flowers floated on the soft September 
 breeze. A flock of pigeons, with the whir of 
 
 72
 
 Lady Betty and an Irish Jacobite 
 
 many wings, rose from the ground as Betty 
 approached, and she looked up after them 
 and sighed. 
 
 "Is it true that the French king wears red 
 heels to his shoes ? " she asked suddenly and 
 quite irrelevantly. 
 
 Mr. Trevor started perceptibly, giving her 
 a quizzical glance. 
 
 "They are frequently purple," he replied, 
 with perfect gravity. 
 
 " Because, I suppose, it is a royal color," 
 she remarked absently ; " you are a Jacobite, 
 Mr. Trevor." 
 
 " Either my disguise is a flimsy one, or 
 your penetration is great, Lady Clancarty," he 
 replied, with a whimsical smile ; " but I '11 
 swear I 'm not alone at Newmarket." 
 
 Lady Betty elevated her brows a little. 
 
 " It has been frequently hinted that King 
 William was one," she remarked tranquilly. 
 
 " By the Whigs out of office," he said, with 
 a short, hard laugh ; " he is not counted one 
 on the Continent." 
 
 " Or in Ireland," she said ; " you were at 
 Londonderry, of course." 
 
 "There were two sides to the wall at Lon- 
 donderry, my lady," he replied ; " I was on 
 one I Ml admit that." 
 
 73
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 "It is safe not to be explicit," she said smil- 
 ing; "you are an Irishman, a Papist, and a 
 Jacobite," she told off each point on her rin- 
 gers, " and you are from Munster." 
 
 " Precisely," said Mr. Trevor, with great 
 composure ; " you have nailed me to the wall, 
 madam ; I am a sinner of the blackest dye, a 
 subject for the gallows." 
 
 " So I supposed," she said cheerfully, nod- 
 ding her head at him, " and being all these 
 things, and from the Continent, can you tell 
 me " for the first time she hesitated, stopped 
 short, looking at the turf under her daintily 
 shod feet, her face crimson. 
 
 He waited, smiling, composed, watchful ; 
 not helping her by a word or sign, and she 
 could not read his eyes when she looked into 
 them. 
 
 " Do you know Lord Clancarty? " she asked 
 bluntly. 
 
 He took time to consider, studying, mean- 
 while, every detail of her charming, ingenuous 
 face and perfect figure. 
 
 " I have met him," he said deliberately, " in 
 Dublin and in Paris." Betty's agitation was 
 quite apparent, but she commanded herself and 
 looked up bravely. 
 
 " He is my husband," she said simply. 
 74
 
 Lady Betty and an Irish Jacobite 
 
 Mr. Trevor smiled involuntarily. 
 
 " He is a happy man," he said gallantly. 
 
 She made an impatient gesture, laughing 
 and blushing. 
 
 " Tell me how he looks ? " she asked ; " I 
 have never seen him since he was fifteen and 
 I eleven. Is he a bugbear? They would 
 have me believe so." 
 
 " On the contrary, I have always thought 
 him handsome, my lady," Mr. Trevor said, 
 smiling imperturbably, "and altogether the 
 most companionable man I know." 
 
 "Indeed!" she exclaimed; "yet you told 
 me you had only met him twice." 
 
 "In two places," corrected Mr. Trevor 
 quite unmoved, "but frequently. He's a 
 fine man, madam, take my word for it ; I 
 love him like a brother ; he has only one 
 fault, madam, one sin, and that, I '11 admit, is 
 unpardonable." 
 
 " And that ? " she queried, with uplifted 
 brows, a little haughtily. 
 
 " And that," replied Mr. Trevor calmly, 
 " is the fact that he has been able to live for 
 fourteen years without his wife." 
 
 Lady Clancarty flushed angrily, and then 
 she laughed that delicious, mirthful laugh of 
 hers. 
 
 75
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 "He has existed, sir," she corrected him, 
 " because he never knew how delightful Lady 
 Clancarty is." 
 
 " Exactly," replied Trevor, " a mere exist- 
 ence ; life uncrowned by love such love as 
 he ought to have won, confound him is not 
 life. He might as well be a turnip." 
 
 "So I have always thought," she replied, 
 with a charming smile ; " but then, you know, 
 Mr. Trevor, he might not have been able to 
 win it." 
 
 " Not win it ! " he exclaimed, " not win it, 
 when he is a husband to begin with. By Saint 
 Patrick, madam, 1 'd cut his acquaintance for 
 life! Not win it? What cannot a man do 
 under the inspiration of a beautiful and noble 
 woman ? Kingdoms have been won and lost for 
 them. If Troy fell for Helen, an empire might 
 well fall for a woman as beautiful and far more 
 womanly. I 'd run Clancarty through, my 
 lady, if he were not willing to die for his true 
 love. Irishmen are not made of such poor 
 stuff. No, no, he would win it, never fear." 
 
 Lady Betty's chin was up and her eyes trav- 
 elling over the green turf again. 
 
 "An idle boast, sir," she said carelessly; 
 " no woman would be lightly won after years 
 of neglect." 
 
 76
 
 Lady Betty and an Irish Jacobite 
 
 " Nor should be," he replied, in a deep tone 
 of emotion, " nor should be ! By the Virgin, 
 Clancarty ought to go on his knees from 
 Munster to Althorpe in penitence." 
 
 " Faith, what would he do about the Chan- 
 nel, Mr. Trevor ? " she asked wickedly. 
 
 " Swim it, madam," he replied promptly ; 
 " a true man and a lover would not drown 
 with such a saint enshrined before him." 
 
 "A Protestant saint for a Papist penitent," 
 remarked Lady Betty smiling ; " what a poor 
 consolation." 
 
 " Love laughs at obstacles, my Lady Clan- 
 carty," said Mr. Trevor, " and it forgets 
 creed." 
 
 " Oh ! " she said and her brows went up. 
 
 " There is one excuse, though," he went on, 
 "one or I would never speak to Donough 
 Macarthy again." 
 
 " Oh, there is one, then ? " she asked doubt- 
 fully. 
 
 " One yes," he replied gravely ; " he is a 
 proscribed exile, madam, this king of yours 
 has excepted him from the Act of Grace ; he 
 cannot return except, indeed, to the Tower 
 and the block. But, after all, to lose a head is 
 less than to lose a heart." 
 
 Lady Betty laughed. 
 77
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 " Only one can recover a heart," she said 
 wickedly, " but a head I never heard of one 
 that was put on after the headsman." 
 
 " Nor I," he admitted, " but, after all, one 
 can die but once." 
 
 " And one can love many times," suggested 
 Betty ; " I have heard that my Lord Clancarty's 
 heart is tender." 
 
 " Mere fables, madam," he replied, with 
 cool mendacity ; " his heart is made for one 
 image only and would keep that to eternity." 
 
 " His must be a valuable and rare heart," 
 Lady Clancarty remarked demurely, " too good, 
 sir, to exchange for a human one." 
 
 " Verily too good to give without a fair 
 exchange, madam," he replied, smiling auda- 
 ciously ; " nor will Clancarty cast it by the way- 
 side. I know him for a man who will love 
 and be loved again. He 's no moonstruck 
 youth, my lady ; when he gives he will demand 
 a return." 
 
 She carried her head proudly. " He should 
 have to win it," she said. 
 
 " He would win it," Trevor retorted boldly, 
 " and he would hold it. Pshaw, madam, I 
 despise a milksop, and so do you ! " 
 
 " You are overbold in your assertions, sir," 
 Betty said, stopping short and looking back 
 
 78
 
 Lady Betty and an Irish Jacobite 
 
 over the heath, shading her eyes with her 
 fan. 
 
 " Bold for a friend, my lady," he said grace- 
 fully, " bold for the absent who has none to 
 plead his cause." 
 
 Lady Betty laughed. 
 
 " Do you see that whirling, frantic thing 
 yonder ? " she asked, pointing ; " 't is my Lady 
 Sunderland's India shawl ; she is waving to 
 me. We must go back, sir; she thinks I 
 venture too near the lions." 
 
 " We must go back, it seems, since you 
 command it," he replied regretfully, " but I 
 may see Lady Clancarty again ? I may speak 
 to her of her husband ? " 
 
 Betty hesitated for the twentieth part of a 
 second and then she smiled. 
 
 " We are at the Lion's Head," she said, 
 " and I shall receive my friends after supper 
 but do not talk of Lord Clancarty." 
 
 He bowed profoundly, and she moved on, 
 for the India shawl was waving frantically now 
 and Savile and the others were coming toward 
 them. 
 
 "I thank you for the privilege," said Richard 
 Trevor with his daring smile; "we will talk of 
 Lady Clancarty." 
 
 But Betty answered not a word ; she walked 
 79
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 back across the heath, proudly silent, nor did 
 she cast a single relenting glance behind her 
 and thus failed to see the quizzical expression 
 in his eyes. 
 
 80
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE WEARING OF THE GREEN 
 
 THAT night was the night of Devon- 
 shire's great ball and all Newmarket 
 was agog, streets were blocked with 
 fours and sixes the great coaches jammed in 
 rows, with fighting, swearing coachmen and 
 postilions. As for the chairs, they were blocked 
 in so closely that half the chairmen had black 
 eyes or bloody noses in the morning ; and the 
 link-boys, let loose in this carnival, ran hither 
 and yon, with their lanthorns flaring in the 
 wind like ministering imps in an inferno, while 
 the country people and the tavern tipsters and 
 the market women filled up the last crevices, 
 to see beauty and fashion pass in and out the 
 flaring doorway, whence came strains of music 
 and the sounds of laughter. The king, it was 
 true, would; not be there ; his cough or de- 
 spatches from France, it was whispered would 
 keep him in bed that festive night, but Lady 
 Marlborough was there and in her train the 
 6 81
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 Princess Anne. People had begun already 
 to put the pair in this sequence, and laughed, 
 in their sleeves, at it and at William's tolerance, 
 for no one despised my Lord Marlborough 
 more than that astute, cool-headed monarch, 
 who knew him to be as false as he was brilliant. 
 Excepting only the king himself, the whole 
 world of fashion was at the ball, and the house 
 was dressed with green boughs and flowers, 
 rushes and sweet seg, and a wassail bowl stood 
 in the hall wreathed with blossoms. The 
 band was stationed on the staircase landing, 
 the musicians clad for the occasion in scarlet 
 waistcoats and shorts, deep clocked scarlet 
 stockings, and coats of yellow velvet stamped 
 on the back with red roses and on the left 
 breast with the Devonshire arms. There 
 were female attendants, too, attired quaintly 
 in gay flowered silks and wearing vizards, who 
 served the fyne of pocras, sobyll bere and 
 mum below stairs, while above the rooms 
 were lighted by flambeaux and the floors 
 polished like mirrors for the dancers. There 
 were to be dances of every sort, from the 
 country romp, " cuckolds all awry," with 
 " hoite come toite," and the more stately 
 galliard, to " Trenchemore " and the cushion 
 
 dance and " tolly polly." 
 
 8z
 
 The Wearing of the Green 
 
 Her Grace of Marlborough, in towering 
 headdress and a gown of red velvet over a 
 petticoat of cloth of gold, led the first dance 
 with his Grace of Devonshire, the Princess 
 Anne and the duke being vis-a-vis, but only a 
 poor spectacle by comparison. 
 
 The whole house overflowed with the 
 throng. The greatest of the court were 
 there, Bedford and Ormond and Hartington, 
 and there, too, were Godolphin and Somers 
 and a bevy of beauty ; ruffles of lace and 
 gleams of jewels, and here and there the rosy 
 cheeks of the daughters of the country squires. 
 Old dames looked on from the wall, smiling 
 and delighted when a daughter danced and 
 frowning at a more favored neighbor, and the 
 young beaux had no rest, but danced in their 
 tight French shoes and bowed until their backs 
 were doubled. 
 
 But the greatest stir was when Lady Clan- 
 carty led the galliard with her noble host, my 
 lady all in white and gold, with one pink rose 
 in her hair, her eyes shining, and her cheeks 
 fresher than the rose. Down the long room 
 they came and her feet scarcely seemed to 
 touch the floor, and she held her head so high 
 that it almost overlooked his grace, who bowed 
 smilingly toward her, a stately figure himself 
 
 83
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 as he moved in his splendid dress down the 
 space left by the dancers, the music scarcely 
 drowning the murmur of applause. Her 
 Grace of Marlborough was outshone and she 
 bit her lip and tossed her head. 
 
 It was after this, when my Lady Clancarty, 
 flushed and lovely, stood surrounded by a 
 throng that the Irishman, Mr. Trevor, pushed 
 through them all to her side. A handsome 
 figure, too, and one which had won more than 
 one admiring glance that night ; a graceful 
 figure clad in white satin, self-possessed, 
 accomplished. French in manner ; he had 
 caught the trick at Versailles, and his gray 
 eyes looked straight into hers. The strains 
 of the dance floated up the stairs ; my Lord 
 Savile pressed forward. 
 
 " Our dance, my lady," he said, almost 
 imperatively thrusting between. 
 
 For an instant she hesitated and then she 
 smiled and laid her hand in Mr. Trevor's, 
 so near that it brushed Savile's sleeve. 
 
 " This dance is promised, my lord," she 
 said sweetly, and passed out on the floor with 
 her partner. 
 
 The young lord swore in a subdued voice, 
 happily unheard by any one. All eyes were 
 on my lady and her partner. 
 
 84
 
 The bearing of the Green 
 
 " What a pair ! " they murmured. 
 
 " Mars and Venus ! " cried a courtier. 
 
 " Venus and Apollo ! " said another, and 
 every eye was on them. 
 
 Yet the two thought not of it, they danced 
 superbly, it is true, and with a joy in it, being 
 adepts in the art, but Betty could think of no 
 one but the man who held her hand, whose 
 eyes held hers, too, by a spell. Perhaps, she 
 feared a little the mastery of his ways, yet she 
 had never danced before with such a partner. 
 
 " You have learned to dance in France, sir, 
 I think," she said lightly, laughing a little. 
 
 " Perhaps," he replied, smiling too, " but I 
 think I learned on the mossy fields of old 
 Ireland, that I was born a dancer." 
 
 Afterwards they went out on the balcony 
 together, the night air cooling their faces. 
 Below was the garden, for this was the rear of 
 the house. It was dark and silent without, 
 but the strains of music floated through the 
 open windows and the light from within fell 
 on her. 
 
 He took something from his breast and 
 pressing it to his lips, held it out to her. 
 
 " Will you wear it, my lady," he said softly, 
 " the symbol of an unfortunate country and 
 of a loyal heart ? " 
 
 85
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 She looked at it strangely, it was a piece of 
 shamrock. Perhaps she meant to refuse it, 
 but she saw Savile coming and a malicious imp 
 leaped into her eyes. She took it and tried to 
 fasten it in her hair but her fingers faltered, 
 and Savile drew nearer ; the music, too, 
 heralded another dance. 
 
 " Permit me," said Richard Trevor, and 
 deftly fastened the shamrock where the rose 
 had been, that slipped and fell between them 
 on the floor. 
 
 Lady Clancarty's face was crimson. Trevor 
 knelt on one knee and taking up the rose 
 kissed it. 
 
 " A fair exchange," he said. 
 
 She bit her lip and stretched out her hand 
 to snatch the flower. 
 
 " You will dance with me now, my lady ? " 
 said Lord Savile. 
 
 " You were long in coming," replied her 
 ladyship wickedly, with mock eagerness, but 
 not without a backward glance to see the effect 
 of it ; but the coquette was disappointed. 
 
 At her words, the Irishman let her flower 
 lie where it had fallen, and in a few minutes 
 she saw him dancing with the pretty daughter 
 of a country squire. Lady Clancarty liked it 
 so little that she set her teeth on her lip and 
 
 86
 
 The Wearing of the Green 
 
 gave my Lord Savile a bit of her temper. Yet 
 she wore the shamrock, though half the room 
 began to comment upon it. 
 
 It was morning when the great rout broke 
 up and the stream of coaches began to move 
 again. The crowd had stayed ; they knew my 
 lord duke's generosity and that the broken 
 meats from that fete would keep them for a 
 sevennight, and they waited to pour at last 
 into the kitchenway and come out heavy-laden ; 
 they were there when the great people went 
 away in their coaches and chairs. 
 
 Lady Sunderland was already in her chair 
 and her daughter was coming down the stair 
 with a throng of followers, but it was Richard 
 Trevor who walked beside her. 
 
 "The rose I would not take from the 
 ground," he whispered, " I am no beggar of 
 crumbs but the shamrock " 
 
 She smiled and her bright eyes looked be- 
 yond him at the throng below. 
 
 " The shamrock ! " he murmured. 
 
 It was not in her hair; had she thrown it 
 away ? A step lower down and she held out 
 her hand and dropped the sprig into his. 
 
 " A poor thing, sir, but 't is yours," she 
 said, " and you were long in claiming it," she 
 added, laughing softly. 
 
 87
 
 My Lady Clan car ty 
 
 At the moment a wreath of flowers, cast 
 from the balcony above, fell lightly on her 
 shoulders, and she stood laughing, the petals 
 showering her and falling all about her feet. 
 
 He kissed her finger tips gallantly. 
 
 " The Queen of the Rout is crowned ! " he 
 said. 
 
 88
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 AN IRISH DEFIANCE 
 
 MELISSA stood meekly before her 
 mistress. 
 "My Lady Sunderland's compli- 
 ments, madam," she said, with her usual purr ; 
 " will you play basset to-night ? " 
 
 " No," replied Lady Clancarty ; " many 
 thanks ; but tell my mother that I am to have 
 guests, and my purse is too thin for basset." 
 
 As the door closed on Melissa, Lady Clan- 
 carty rose from her dressing-table. 
 
 " I will wear the pink flowered brocade, 
 Alice," she said. 
 
 Alice opened her eyes. " Oh, my lady," 
 she remonstrated, " it is too lovely ; I thought 
 you meant it only for the king's levees." 
 
 Her mistress smiled. " May not the king 
 come here if he chooses ? " she said mis- 
 chievously. " The brocade, Alice." 
 
 Unconvinced, Alice brought the garment, 
 a beautiful and costly thing frosted with rare 
 
 89
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 lace, and as she helped Lady Betty put it on 
 she was more and more impressed with its 
 charms. 
 
 " Oh, my lady," she murmured, " you do 
 look lovely in it 'tis too fine by half." 
 
 Betty craned her neck backward, looking 
 over her shoulder into the glass ; the folds of 
 the sheeny satin fell about her, the bodice 
 fitted like a glove, displaying every curve of 
 her well-rounded form, and it was low cut, 
 revealing a neck and shoulders like snow. 
 The beauty smiled. 
 
 " Bring me my string of pearls," she said. 
 
 Alice brought them without a word and 
 helped her fasten them about her throat. 
 Betty looked into the mirror again and then 
 fell to fingering the bracelet on one round arm. 
 
 " Alice," she said, half laughing, " he is here." 
 
 The handmaid started, looking at her in 
 wonder. 
 
 " Who, my lady ? not Lord Clancarty ? " 
 
 " The stranger we met in the woods at 
 Althorpe," her mistress replied, " who would 
 have kissed me for a milkmaid." 
 
 " Indeed, madam, I think he would as lief 
 kiss you as a queen," Alice said blushing, 
 " the bold gallant ! He is here and who 
 
 is he?" 
 
 90
 
 An Irish Defiance 
 
 Lady Clancarty clasped and unclasped her 
 bracelet while the roses deepened in her cheeks. 
 
 " He is called Richard Trevor," she said 
 softly ; " a pretty name, Alice, Richard 
 rich-hearted, lion-hearted like our great 
 Plantagenet." 
 
 Alice looked at her in bewilderment. Lady 
 Betty had as many moods as April : did she 
 mean to fall in love, at last, after all her loyalty 
 to that unknown and terrible exile ? Alice 
 wondered. But saying nothing she stooped 
 down, instead, to smooth the shining folds of 
 the beautiful gown. 
 
 " Go fix the candles, Alice," Lady Clan- 
 carty said, with a soft little sigh, " and place a 
 table for cards and the lute and guitar 
 place them there also. Presently my guests 
 will be here." 
 
 The handmaid obeyed, too perplexed by 
 this new mood of my lady's to venture on the 
 smallest observation. She had arranged the 
 room with simple taste when Lady Betty 
 entered it a few moments later. It was not as 
 large a room as her mother's, but it was fur- 
 nished, too, with an open fireplace where a 
 single log burned, for the nights were chilly. 
 Candles were set on the mantel and the table, 
 while through the open door came the buzz 
 
 9'
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 of conversation, for Lady Sunderland was 
 deep in a game of basset with Lady Dacres 
 and his Grace of Bedford. Betty did not dis- 
 turb them but observed them from a distance, 
 noticing her mother's rouged face and nodding 
 headdress, and Lady Dacres's pinched and 
 eager features. The old dame was as keen 
 as any gamester. The mother and daughter 
 had so little in common that they seemed like 
 strangers, and the younger countess stood 
 looking at the log in deep thought when 
 Richard Trevor was announced. As she 
 courtesied, she gave him a quick, keen glance, 
 but made nothing of that bold handsome face 
 of his, though quick to note the distinction 
 of his appearance and bearing, those of a man 
 used to courts as well as camps. She saw it 
 all at a glance, as she had seen it at first, but 
 she chose to receive him with cool politeness. 
 
 " You play basset, of course, sir ? " she said 
 demurely. 
 
 But he saw the pitfall. 
 
 " I 'm too poor, madam," he replied smiling. 
 " I can remember hearing an old courtier tell 
 how he lost his fortune to King Charles at 
 basset." 
 
 " I trust the king gave it back to him," she 
 said quickly. 
 
 92
 
 An Irish Defiance 
 
 " He made him a lottery cavalier," rejoined 
 Mr. Trevor calmly. 
 
 Betty smiled scornfully. " And for such 
 a king men have died ! " she said signifi- 
 cantly. 
 
 " Ingratitude is only human at the worst," 
 he replied, laughing softly, " and you know, 
 ' the king can do no wrong ! ' 
 
 Lady Betty put her finger on her lip, with a 
 glance toward the card-players. 
 
 " You are right," he said, regardless of her 
 caution, " 't is quite useless to die for any 
 king. There is only one thing worth dying 
 
 for, and that is supremely worth living for, 
 
 
 too. 
 
 "And it is not a king?" she commented 
 thoughtfully, " or a queen ? " 
 
 " A queen, yes," he admitted, " but the 
 queen of hearts. The only thing worth living 
 for," he said, and his voice grew deep and 
 tender, " and dying for, my Lady Clancarty, 
 is Love." 
 
 She blushed and her eyes fell. He had the 
 most compelling glance she had ever encoun- 
 tered. Those eyes of his would enthrall hers, 
 and she looked away. 
 
 " I never heard of any man dying of it," 
 she remarked, with a bitter little laugh. 
 
 93
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 " That 's because a wise man would rather 
 live for it," he said; "what exquisite torment 
 for a man to die and leave it behind him in 
 the shape of a lovely widow." 
 
 " Ah," said Lady Betty, with a roguish 
 smile, " therein lies the sting ! " 
 
 " Precisely," admitted the Irishman ; " if 
 there 's one thing that could bring me back to 
 this vale of tears it is my successor ! " 
 
 " I have heard that in India the widows are 
 burnt on the funeral pyres," she remarked, a 
 glow of amusement in her eyes ; "you might 
 arrange it so for the future Mrs. Trevor." 
 
 He shook his head disconsolate. " She 's 
 sure to be a woman of spirit," he said; " I 
 could n't get her consent." 
 
 Betty shrugged her shoulders. " After all 
 you have said of love you can't find a woman 
 to die for it ? " 
 
 " I would rather she lived for it," he said, 
 with his daring smile, " and for me ! " 
 
 " Men are purely selfish," she retorted 
 with fine indifference, " it 's always * for 
 me'; hadn't you better dream of living for 
 her ? " 
 
 " I do ! " he replied promptly ; " faith, if I 
 didn't dream of her I should immediately 
 expire she 's the star of my life." 
 
 94
 
 An Irish Defiance 
 
 " Oh ! " said Lady Betty, in a strange voice, 
 " it has gone as far as that ? she is French, 
 I suppose? " she added with polite interest 
 and elevated brows. 
 
 " I never inquire into the nationality of 
 divinities," he said coolly; "she's an angel, 
 and that's enough for her humble adorer." 
 
 " You Papists are fond of saints," remarked 
 my lady, tapping the floor with her foot. 
 
 " And sinners," he admitted. 
 
 Betty turned her shoulder toward him. 
 
 " What color are her eyes ? " she asked, 
 playing with her fan. 
 
 " I can't look into them at this moment," 
 he replied with audacity, " but I hope to tell 
 you later." 
 
 She flashed a withering glance at him. 
 
 "They are brown," he announced coolly. 
 
 Anger and amusement struggled for a 
 moment on Lady Betty's face, and then she 
 laughed and dropped her fan. 
 
 He stooped to pick it up and something 
 green and shrivelled fell before her. Lady 
 Betty put her foot on it. He handed her 
 the fan with a bow. The voices in the other 
 room rose a little in a dispute. 
 
 " What are they saying? " she asked, sway- 
 ing her fan before her face. 
 
 95
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 He listened and smiled. " They are talking 
 of Lady Home's divorce," he said; "what is 
 your ladyship's view of it ? " 
 
 She hesitated and there is a proverb ! 
 
 "You are a Papist," she said, "do you be- 
 lieve that a marriage even a foolish one 
 is indissoluble ? " 
 
 " Certainly I do," he replied piously; "perish 
 the thought of severing the tie ! " 
 
 She reddened. 
 
 " So, 't is ( for better or for worse ' ! " she 
 said bitterly, "and usually for worse." 
 
 " 4 Until death us do part/ ' he quoted 
 piously again. 
 
 Lady Betty started and turned from red to 
 white. 
 
 " 'T is a horrible idea," she said, with a 
 shudder, Lord Sunderland would have heard 
 her with amazement, " no escape for a poor 
 woman who has been ensnared into a wretched 
 
 union 
 
 " A wretched union," he repeated slowly, a 
 change coming over his face, " a wretched 
 union ; are all marriages so wretched, my 
 lady ? " 
 
 " A great many of them," she retorted tartly, 
 and he could only see the curve of her white 
 shoulder and the back of her head. 
 
 9 6
 
 An Irish Defiance 
 
 He knelt on one knee and began to look 
 around on the floor with an anxious face. 
 After a moment she looked at him over her 
 shoulder. 
 
 " What is it ? " she asked, blushing and bit- 
 ing her lip. < 
 
 " My shamrock," he said, peeping under the 
 table with an air of perplexity. 
 
 " Do you always carry vegetables with you ? " 
 she asked witheringly. 
 
 " I have since last night," he retorted, 
 still searching. 
 
 " And you dropped it here ? " she asked 
 innocently. 
 
 He passed his sword under a chair and drew 
 it back slowly over the floor. 
 
 " Yes," he replied, in a tone of deep anxiety, 
 " 't was here." 
 
 She moved to the other side of the fire- 
 place. 
 
 " Is that it ? " she asked, coolly pointing. 
 
 He pounced upon the withered sprig and 
 kissed it, and rising stood looking at her. 
 
 " But," he said, and a daring smile played 
 about his mouth ; he took a step nearer, " but 
 some marriages are made in heaven." 
 
 " And others " Lady Clancarty pointed 
 downward with a wicked smile, 
 7 97
 
 My Lady Clan car ty 
 
 " Ah," he answered, " those are of earth, 
 earthy ; but when love steps in, then, my 
 lady, then " 
 
 " There comes my Lord Savile," she said, 
 and smiled sweetly. 
 
 " Damn him ! " he muttered beneath his 
 breath. 
 
 The door opened to admit Lord Savile and 
 Mr. Benham, and her greeting was cordiality 
 itself. 
 
 " Here's a gentleman who has staked all his 
 fortune on his gray mare and lost it ! " Mr. 
 Benham said, his hand on Savile's shoul- 
 der, " and he has done nothing but weep for 
 it." 
 
 " Saint Thomas ! " exclaimed that nobleman, 
 " I 'm not the first to stake all on a woman and 
 lose." 
 
 " Leave the saint out of it, my lord, when 
 you put the sinner in," said Lady Betty. 
 
 " Oh, Saint Mary, there goes my last 
 crown ! " came from the other room in the 
 shrill lament of Lady Dacres. 
 
 Both Savile and Trevor laughed. 
 
 " Change the sex of your saint and you have 
 an honorable example," remarked Trevor, as 
 he picked up the countess' guitar and began to 
 finger it lightly. 
 
 98
 
 An Irish Defiance 
 
 " I 'm a ruined man," said Savile recklessly, 
 " unless that fickle dame Fortune smiles 
 on me to-morrow." 
 
 " You ought to call her a fickle mare, my 
 lord," suggested Lady Betty artlessly; "when 
 Fortune runs upon four legs it must needs be 
 more fleet than upon two." 
 
 Lord Savile looked into her eyes with a 
 smile. 
 
 " If love were kind, fortune might fly, my 
 lady," he said daringly, but very low. 
 
 Lady Clancarty flushed hotly as she turned 
 to greet a newcomer, Sir Edward Mackie, one 
 of Devonshire's gentlemen ; a young fellow 
 with a round, boyish face, who had worn his 
 heart upon his sleeve until he lost it to Lady 
 Betty. But so ingenuous was he, so frankly 
 generous and devoted, that she gave him now 
 her sweetest smile. 
 
 Meanwhile, Mr. Trevor still tuned the 
 guitar, but he had heard Savile's whisper to my 
 lady and had watched her face with keen and 
 searching eyes. Young Mackie brought news 
 for Lady Clancarty. 
 
 " Your brother has come," he said eagerly, 
 " my Lord Spencer ; I have just had the honor 
 to wait upon him. Very proud I am too, my 
 lady, for is he not one of the new lights of the 
 
 99
 
 My Lady Clan car ty 
 
 party, and one of the most learned young men 
 in Britain ? " 
 
 She shrugged her white shoulders laughing. 
 
 "He is all that, Sir Edward," she said, " and 
 more much more," she added with a droll 
 expression of despair. 
 
 " Much learning doth make him mad," said 
 Mr. Trevor smiling. " I have known such 
 cases on the Continent." 
 
 " 'T is instructive," Betty admitted, smil- 
 ing at Sir Edward's boyish face, "but 'tis 
 dry." 
 
 " Give me a fine horse, a fine woman, and 
 fine music, and all the books in England might 
 burn," said Benham. 
 
 " Oh ! " said Lady Betty, and she lifted her 
 brows with a contemptuous glance. 
 
 " In sequence, according to your valuation 
 of them, sir," remarked Mr. Trevor, with a 
 cool smile, "a poor compliment to the sex. 
 But music expresses something something 
 only of the beauty and charm of a fair 
 woman." 
 
 " Sing to us, do ! " interposed the countess, 
 " I despise comparisons." 
 
 " To hear is to obey, my lady," he replied, 
 beginning at once to play the sad wild air that 
 made her start and change color. 
 
 100
 
 An Irish Defiance 
 
 Would he dare to sing that here? she 
 thought, her heart beating hard ; would he dare? 
 How little she knew him ! In a moment his rich 
 tenor voice, a voice of peculiar charm and 
 timbre, filled the room and even startled the 
 card-players. 
 
 " 'T is you shall reign alone, 
 
 My dark Rosaleen! 
 
 My own Rosaleen! 
 
 'T is you shall have the golden throne, 
 'T is you shall reign, and reign alone, 
 
 My dark Rosaleen! " 
 
 He sang the wild ballad through to the end, 
 and as he ceased, Lady Betty turned to him 
 and smiled, applauding softly. But she said 
 nothing, although young Mackie was openly 
 delighted, and Lady Sunderland exclaimed that 
 it was a marvellous fine performance of a poor 
 song. 
 
 " 'T is an old ballad, madam," Mr. Trevor 
 replied courteously, " and perhaps a poor one, 
 but dear to the Irish heart." 
 
 (< Sing an English one next time, sir, or a 
 Dutch la yes, your Grace of Bedford, we 
 grow to love everything Dutch." 
 
 Lord Savile meanwhile, with his hands 
 thrust into his pockets and his face flushed, 
 lounged nearer to the singer. 
 101
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 " A very pretty performance," he said, with 
 an insolent drawl, "worthy a tavern musician. 
 By Jove, sir, the tune is pestiferous here ; an 
 Irishman and a cow-stealer are synonymous." 
 
 Richard Trevor smiled, his gray eyes flash- 
 ing dangerously. 
 
 " And English noblemen are often cowards, 
 and liars to boot, sir," he said in an undertone, 
 his hand still on the guitar. 
 
 " I am at your service," said Savile, in a 
 passionate voice. 
 
 Trevor glanced warningly at Lady Clancarty. 
 
 " Elsewhere, my lord, with pleasure," he 
 said, still smiling, " I might add with joy." 
 
 Lady Sunderland came in now with her 
 guests ; she had won at basset and was in high 
 good humor. 
 
 " A song," she cried, " another song." 
 
 Her eyes sought Trevor and he bowed 
 gravely. 
 
 " At another time, my lady," he said ; " now 
 I must wait on a friend, who has the first 
 claim upon me. My ladies all, good-night," 
 and he bowed gracefully, a certain merry de- 
 fiance in his glance. 
 
 Lady Betty held out her hand involuntarily. 
 
 "I thank you for the ballad," she said and 
 smiled. 
 
 102
 
 An Irish Defiance 
 
 He carried her hand to his lips and, it may 
 be, kissed it with more fervor than courtesy 
 required, for the rosy tide swept over her 
 white neck and her cheeks and brow. 
 
 As he went out, Lady Sunderland tapped 
 her fan upon her lips. " Don't tell it," she 
 said, with the coquetry of a girl of sixteen, 
 " don't tell it, but la ! he has the finest 
 figure I ever saw, and the legs of an Apollo." 
 
 " 'Pon my soul, madam, that 's a compli- 
 ment that 's worth dying for," Mr. Benham 
 said, with a peculiar smile at Savile. 
 
 Betty seeing it, went over and stood staring 
 into the embers on the hearth, though she 
 pretended to be talking to young Mackie. 
 
 103
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 A NIGHT OF PORTENTS 
 
 A ICE was combing Lady Betty's hair 
 late that night. 
 The two girls were in Betty's bed- 
 room, a solitary taper burning on the table. 
 In this rosy twilight both faces showed indis- 
 tinctly. Betty's finery lay upon a chair near 
 by ; she wore only a flowing white robe over her 
 night-rail, and one rosy foot, out of the slipper, 
 rested on the rug. Her luxuriant hair falling 
 about her almost hid her face, and her eyes 
 were fixed pensively upon the fire. Mean- 
 while, Alice stood behind her combing and 
 brushing her hair with hands that actually trem- 
 bled, while her face was very white. If Lady 
 Clancarty had looked at her, she would have 
 divined some trouble, but as it was she was 
 only aroused from her revery by the girl's 
 unwonted awkwardness. 
 
 " Dear me, Alice ! " she exclaimed, " that is 
 the third time you have pulled my hair. I 
 104.
 
 A Night of Portents 
 
 shall be as bald soon as Lady Dacres without 
 her perukes. What ails you, girl ? " 
 
 " I 'm nervous," Alice said, her voice break- 
 ing suspiciously, " I can't help it." 
 
 Lady Betty tossed back her hair, snatched 
 up a taper and looked at her sharply. 
 
 "Nervous?" she exclaimed, "why, you are 
 naturally as tame as any barnyard fowl. Nerv- 
 ous ! Why, your eyes are sticking out of your 
 head. What is it, girl ? Hast met your friend 
 the parson again ? " 
 
 " No, no," faltered Alice, with a little sob. 
 "I I overheard some talk between two gen- 
 tlemen to-night in the hall and it scared me." 
 
 Betty laughed merrily. 
 
 " Fie, Alice, fie ! " she cried, " an eavesdrop- 
 per ! What horrible thing was it they said ? 
 Mercy on us, girl, you look as if they plotted 
 bloody murder ! " 
 
 " So they did, madam," Alice said soberly. 
 
 Lady Betty stared. 
 
 " The child 's demented," she remarked, 
 shaking her head. 
 
 "That I'm not," Alice replied bluntly, 
 wiping a tear from her pale cheek, " but I hate 
 to think of one of them dead for some folly, 
 too." 
 
 " Oh, ho ! " said her mistress, setting down 
 105
 
 My Lady Cla?icarty 
 
 the taper, "now I understand there is to be 
 a duel ; " then suddenly her mood changed. 
 
 "Who were they?" she demanded sharply. 
 
 Alice began to show reluctance and her eyes 
 avoided Betty's. 
 
 " Two guests of the inn, madam," she said, 
 averting her face. 
 
 But Lady Clancarty caught her arm and 
 turned her to the light. 
 
 " Out with it, Alice," she said imperiously, 
 " I will know." 
 
 " It was Lord Savile," the girl said slowly, 
 "and and another a stranger." 
 
 "Our stranger of Althorpe, Alice?" Lady 
 Betty said, a sudden indefinable change in her 
 whole aspect. 
 
 Alice nodded sullenly. 
 
 Her mistress stood quite still for a moment, 
 pressing her hands together. She had shaken 
 her hair about her face again, so that it was 
 concealed. There was something in her atti- 
 tude so unusual, in the silence, too, of the room, 
 where only the fire crackled, and in the girl's 
 own nervousness, that quite overcame Alice. 
 She began to cry. 
 
 " They fight to-morrow," she sobbed, " in the 
 meadow bevond the grove of limes at sun- 
 rise." 
 
 1 06
 
 A Night of Portents 
 
 " Who are their seconds ? " Lady Betty 
 asked, in a strangely quiet tone. 
 
 " Mr. Benham, so I heard them say, and a 
 young fellow with a face like a boy. He was 
 to act for the stranger because he had no 
 friends." 
 
 " Young Mackie ! " said Lady Clancarty. 
 " You heard this and did not tell me, Alice ? I 
 find it hard to forgive you." 
 
 " But why should I ? " cried Alice trembling, 
 " what could your ladyship do ? " 
 
 Betty gave a strange little laugh. "You shall 
 see what I will do to-morrow," she said quietly, 
 " for you shall go with me." 
 
 " Go where, my lady ? " Alice asked in sur- 
 prise. 
 
 "To the meadow behind the limes," replied 
 her mistress calmly ; " there I shall go to- 
 morrow, at sunrise, and stop this folly. It 
 began in my rooms, Alice, over a ballad, and I 
 have no mind that it shall end in bloodshed." 
 
 " Indeed, madam, I think you are in the 
 right," said Alice simply, " but what can we do ? 
 They will never listen to a woman ! " 
 
 Lady Clancarty shut her lips firmly, and held 
 her little bare foot out to the fire, warming it. 
 
 " I fear you cannot stop them," Alice went 
 on ; " Lord Savile was very fierce, but the other 
 107
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 gentleman oh, madam, I feared him more! 
 he was so cool; and those eyes of his they 
 are like steel." 
 
 " So they are," said Betty absently, " and 
 hath he not a handsome face ? " and she looked 
 pensively into the fire. " To-morrow we shall 
 go, Alice, to-morrow at sunrise, and I shall stop 
 this duel I will stop it, if I have to go to the 
 king!" 
 
 But the little handmaid did not reply ; she 
 was watching her mistress with an anxious face. 
 She did not know the meaning of this new 
 Lady Betty, and some hint of impending 
 trouble weighed upon her. She was country 
 bred, too, and timid, and the thought of the 
 gray dawn with the shadowy trees looming 
 through the mist and only the flash of steel to 
 illumine the scene, made her tremble. But 
 Betty, usually so observant and sympathetic 
 and light hearted, did not heed her; she was 
 suddenly self-absorbed, pensive, quietly deter- 
 mined. She went to the window and peeped 
 out into the night. 
 
 " How many hours until sunrise, Alice ? " 
 she asked. 
 
 " Six, my lady," the girl replied with a sigh, 
 " and I wish it might be sixteen ! " 
 
 Betty laughed, a strange little embarrassed 
 
 108
 
 A Night of Portents 
 
 laugh, coming back and sinking on her knees 
 before the hearth, the firelight playing on her 
 lovely face, and the shadowy masses of her hair, 
 and the gleaming white of her draperies. 
 
 " I cannot sleep," she said softly ; " I cannot 
 sleep I am not fit for a soldier's wife ! " 
 
 Alice shuddered. " Indeed, my lady, I 'd 
 as lief marry a butcher ! " she cried, with such 
 genuine horror and disgust that she moved her 
 mistress to merriment. 
 
 " There, my girl, I told you so," cried Lady 
 Betty, " you were meant for that same parson." 
 
 109
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 MASTER AND MAN 
 
 MEANWHILE, under the same roof 
 but in far different quarters, the 
 young Irishman called Richard 
 Trevor was talking to his servant, the same 
 who had led his horse up and down in the inn- 
 yard under Lady Betty's window. The room 
 an attic one was scarcely ten feet square, 
 and almost devoid of furniture ; there was a 
 pallet, a table, and two chairs ; and a mat of 
 braided straw at the foot of the master's bed 
 served for the man's. A single candle burned 
 low in its socket on the table, and here Richard 
 Trevor sat with some writing materials before 
 him, but he was not writing ; he leaned back 
 in his chair and listened, with his amused 
 smile, to the glib talk of his attendant. 
 
 " Faix, sir, they be afther charging more here 
 for a bite of mate or a dhrap of liquor thin in 
 anny ither place in th' kingdom," said the man 
 no
 
 Master and Man 
 
 dolefully ; " I Ve bin afther minding yer lord- 
 ship's insthructions about the money, an' by 
 the Powers, me stomach is loike to clave to 
 me backbone." 
 
 "We can starve respectably, however, Denis," 
 said his master smiling, and turning the contents 
 of his purse out on the table ; " a small sum 
 for our needs, but it must serve," he added, 
 counting the money with a reckless air; "be- 
 sides, one of us may die before we come to the 
 end of it." 
 
 " We '11 be afther doin' it here, yer honor," 
 said Denis gloomily, "from an impty stomach. 
 Betwane th' landlord an' the ranting, tearing 
 Whig gintry in th' stable-yard, sir, I 'm clane 
 daft." 
 
 " So they 're all for the king in possession, 
 are they ? " said Trevor, in an amused tone ; 
 " I hope you Ve heeded my instructions to 
 keep your tongue quiet in your head and mind 
 your own business." 
 
 " Faix, me lord, I Ve bin afther minding 
 mine, but they 're afther minding it too, th' 
 ill-favored thribe ! " 
 
 " That is because you are an Irishman, 
 Denis; they know that at once." 
 
 " Indade, yer lordship 's mistaken intirely ; 
 they 've no idee at all that I 'm a Munster 
 in
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 man," said his servant, with an air of satisfac- 
 tion, " divil a bit of it ! Sometimes I 'm a 
 Frenchy an' sometimes I 'm a Dutchy but 
 an Irishman niver ! Lady Clancarty's woman 
 a sly divil with a pair of eyes that be winking 
 etarnally she's bin swate to me. By the 
 Virgin, sir, she 's bin afther thryin' to sound 
 me about yer lordship. She looks at me and 
 purrs, for all th' wurruld, loike a big white 
 tabby, an' says she, * You 're an Irishman, 
 sir ! ' ' Divil a bit, me darlint,' says I, ' I 'm a 
 Dutchman, born at th' Hague and me mither 
 was forty-first cousin, wanst removed, to th' 
 king's grandmither,' says I. c Ye don't tell 
 me ! ' says she, and her little pale eyes blinked 
 loike a candle in th' wind. ' An' what '11 be 
 yer name, sir?' she asks, as swate as honey. 
 * Mynheer Tulipius,' says I, for I could n't 
 think of anither name for th' life of me. c La, 
 sir,' says she with a simper, * you look loike a 
 tulip, to be shure.' c So I do, me darlint,' I re- 
 plied, and I thried to make up me mind to kiss 
 her, but, bedad, sir, I could n't do it ; there 's 
 something about her that sinds the cowld 
 creeps up me spine." 
 
 " You 're a great coward, Denis," said his 
 master smiling, " afraid of a woman ! It 's a 
 new fault in you, and one that I did not ex- 
 
 112
 
 Master and Man 
 
 pect. As for this creature, what were her 
 questions about me ? " 
 
 " f Yer master 's an Irishman, Mynheer Tuli- 
 pius,' says she, ' that we all know fer a fact.' 
 ' Is he, indade ? ' says I, with the greatest 
 amazement; 'tis the first time I iver heard 
 it,' says I ; c he was born in London and his 
 fayther was one of Gineral Cromwell's Iron- 
 sides.' * Ye don't say so/ says she, f how iver 
 did he get on so well at Saint Germain thin ? ' 
 and she blinked a hundred times in a second. 
 f Saint Germain ! ' says I, opening my eyes 
 wide ; f indade, they were so cowld to him there 
 that he was afther laving before he got there,' 
 says I, c it 's quite well known,' I wint on, as 
 slick as silk, c that whin the man Jimmy Stuart, 
 rayalized that my masther was in France he 
 put on a shirt of mail an' niver took it off at 
 all, even av he was aslape in his ruffled silk 
 night-rail, for fear he 'd be kilt on th' field of 
 honor.' * Is that so ? ' says she ; f an' thin 
 p'r'aps ye 've met me Lord Clancarty out 
 there ? ' e Clancarty ? ' says I, squinting hard 
 with wan eye, f there was a gintleman of that 
 same name hung jist as I was afther laving 
 Holland mebbe he's yer friend?' By 
 Saint Patrick, me lord, you ought to have 
 sane her stare ! She sthopped winking thin, 
 
 8 IIJ
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 an' looked loike a cat that 's sane a bird ; on 
 me sowl, sir, I looked to see av there was n't a 
 furry tail swinging behind, to wurk th' charm 
 on me. ' Clancarty hung ? ' says she, clapping 
 her hand to her heart, ' what for ? ' c Faix, I 
 don't know, me darlint,' says I, f unless it was 
 for being too much of a Whig.' c Pshaw ! ' 
 cries she, stamping her foot, ' ye 're a paddy 
 fool ! ' c Niver a bit,' says I, ' I 'm a Dutch 
 wizard, me darlint; just let me be afther telling 
 yer fortune.' But away she v/int in a towering 
 rage, an' left me with me heart broken intirely 
 at the siparation." 
 
 " I fear you did not deceive her," said Clan- 
 carty, with a laugh, and he unsheathed his 
 sword, running his finger along the blade. 
 " My old friend needs polishing, Denis," he 
 added, with his careless air of good humor, 
 " I 've a duel on my hands for the morning." 
 
 The Irishman's face sobered in an instant, 
 and he cast a look of concern at his master. 
 
 " I 'm sorra for it, me lord," he said, with 
 an honest ring in his voice, " ye 've no friends 
 here." 
 
 " Except you, Denis," said his master kindly, 
 " and if I fall, all my effects are yours and 
 " he paused an instant and then laughed 
 recklessly, " and you can tell the widow." 
 
 114
 
 Master and Man 
 
 " She 's a foine lady, me lord," said Denis 
 artfully, " ' t is a pity to throw away yer life 
 now." 
 
 " She 's a woman to die for, Denis," ex- 
 claimed his lord, a sudden glow passing over 
 his face ; " but I shall not die faith, I 've 
 fought too many duels to die in one." 
 
 " There 's always loike to be wan too many, 
 yer honor," said Denis gravely, " and wan 
 thrust of th' sword and th' house of Macarthy 
 loses its head." 
 
 The young man laughed recklessly. 
 
 " And a beggarly exile dies," he said bitterly. 
 " I fear you are not a man of courage, Denis ; 
 I think I 've heard of you in the retreat from 
 Boyne," he added, with a laughing glance at 
 the dark-faced, sturdy Irishman. 
 
 " Ah, sir, that was the fault of me shoes, 
 an' I blush for it," Denis replied. 
 
 "Your shoes," repeated his master, "and 
 wherefore your shoes ? " 
 
 " 'T was afther this fashion, me lord," said 
 Denis gravely ; " there was a scamp of a shoe- 
 maker in Dublin that was accused, an' rightly 
 as I b'lave, of being allied with the Powers of 
 Darkness, and he was afther making me shoes. 
 About that time money was scarce, sir, as ye 
 know, in spite of King James's brass pieces, and 
 "5
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 it was glad I was to get the shoes at all, with- 
 out bein' over an' above particular about the 
 maker. So whin Danny O'Toole says to me 
 that he '11 make me a blooming pair of boots 
 an' thrust me fer the money, niver a thought 
 had I av the divilish plot he was afther laying 
 aginst me honor. c Make 'em aisy,' says I, 
 f for me feet are sore with the chasing of the 
 English an' the Dutch.' c Don't ye worry,' 
 says he with a wink, c I '11 make 'em so aisy 
 they '11 walk off without ye,' and faith, so 
 he did ! They were the beautifullest shoes, 
 me lord, and they fitted me loike the skin on 
 a potaty, and as fer walking in 'em, they niver 
 touched the ground unless they stuck fast in a 
 bog, and that was n't often. I niver had such 
 a pair of shoes, nor such comfort, and all wint 
 along as smooth as lying until that cursed 
 day of the battle of Boyne." 
 
 " A day when a good many Irishmen had 
 no shoes, Denis," remarked his master, " or 
 lost them in running to our eternal shame ! " 
 
 " That was n't what happened to me, my 
 lord," said Denis regretfully; " 'twas a black 
 day fer Ireland ; yer lordship niver spake a 
 thruer word ! But, as fer me, my shoes had 
 bin running away from me so the very divil 
 seemed to be in 'em that I cut some stout 
 116
 
 Master and Man 
 
 thongs of hide and bound those boots to me 
 
 o 
 
 legs before I wint into the battle, fer, thought 
 I, av I don't I '11 be afther losing them, the 
 jewels ! I was right in the thick of it, an' a 
 hot day it was, as yer honor knows, and but for 
 that divil of a Dutchman that they call king, 
 we moight have won, but he drove his men 
 through the river loike a demon ! Well, sir, I 
 was right in the thick of the carnage ; I 'd jist 
 cut a clane swathe through the Dutch Blues, 
 and I was dating death and desthruction on 
 ivery side, following in th' thrack of Sarsfield, 
 whin, all of a suddent, me shoes turned me 
 around and comminced to run. I was beside 
 meself with the shame of it, me lord. I cut at 
 those thongs with my sword an' I swore an' 
 called on the saints and the divils, but niver a 
 bit could I get those boots off, and away they 
 ran, loike the wind, splash through the mud 
 and the mire, and they niver sthopped until 
 we reached Dublin ; but, my lord," Denis 
 lowered his voice and winked one eye, " even 
 my shoes did n't get there before King 
 James ! " 
 
 " Alas, no," said his master sternly, " it was 
 a king we lacked," and he rose and walked 
 twice across the room, his face darkly clouded. 
 
 His man watched him keenly, with an ex- 
 117
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 pression of deep concern and simple affection, 
 the humble devotion of a faithful dog. 
 
 " You will clean my sword and call me an 
 hour before sunrise, Denis," he said ; " I will 
 snatch some hours' rest, even if it happens to be 
 my turn to-morrow," and he laughed as he began 
 to cast off his garments with his servant's help. 
 
 Denis shook his head sadly. " Ah, me 
 Lord Clancarty," he said with a break in his 
 voice, " 't would be a sad day fer me, and 
 you are so ready to die with a smile on your 
 lips. Ye were iver so, but ye '11 break a heart 
 some day, me lord, jist as recklessly an' ye '11 
 forgive me fer saying it." 
 
 " There is not much that I would not forgive 
 you, old Denis," said the young nobleman 
 kindly, " we 're old friends and tried. But 
 what have I to live for at best, unless it be the 
 headsman's block ? I am a proscribed and 
 penniless outlaw, Denis ; if, by any chance, 
 I am recognized, I go to the Tower. I have 
 no friends here; not even my wife knows who 
 I am and why should she? It seems but 
 folly to think of her, when I have only an 
 exile's life to offer her I am a fool, a 
 wretched fool ! " 
 
 " Indade, me lord, ye greatly misjudge a 
 woman av you think she '11 be afther counting 
 
 118
 
 Master and Man 
 
 yer money or the costs ayther," said Denis 
 quietly ; " a woman niver thinks of it, bless 
 her heart, she jist falls in love, and thin to the 
 divil with prudence or wisdom ayther. And, 
 by the Virgin, me Lady Clancarty is none of 
 yer cowards. I Ve sane the spark in her aye, 
 me lord, and if it plazes her, she '11 fight yer 
 battles, sir, to the ind of time." 
 
 Lord Clancarty smiled. {< Exactly, Denis," 
 said he, " but if I do not please her ? " 
 
 Denis was on his knees, drawing off his 
 master's shoes. 
 
 " She 'd be a blind woman, thin, sir," he 
 said, "and faix, I'll wager me lady knows a 
 foine man whin she sees wan. But, pshaw, sir, 
 by to-morrow night ye may be stark and stiff 
 and ready for the churchyard," and Denis 
 shook his head dolefully. 
 
 The earl laughed, throwing himself upon his 
 hard bed. 
 
 " Put out the taper, Denis," he said, "we '11 
 hope for the best. If I can't live for my lady, 
 at least I can die for her with a light heart," 
 and he turned his face to the wall with a laugh. 
 
 Denis wiped his eyes on his sleeve and 
 wagged his head again and again, his mind on 
 the morrow. 
 
 119
 
 nr 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 LADY BETTY TAKES THE FIELD 
 
 HE sun had not yet risen : earth and 
 sky were softly gray and brown, with 
 
 * green where the meadows lay, and 
 purple in the shadows. Morning, like a white 
 flower with a heart of gold, opened in the east. 
 Shafts of light the sun's gold-tipped arrows 
 quivered on the distant hills, while the 
 vapors, smokelike and fantastic, floated along 
 the level lands and the trees loomed spectre- 
 like. 
 
 It was chilly, too, with the chill of dawn in 
 the early autumn, and Lord Clancarty and 
 young Mackie were muffled in their cloaks as 
 they walked across the fields together. The 
 Irishman was smiling, in his usual daring 
 fashion, but the younger man was sober and 
 even nervous as he listened to him. 
 
 " I have to thank you, Sir Edward," Clan- 
 carty said, " for standing by a stranger, but I 
 should look for no less at your hands." 
 
 120
 
 Lady Betty takes the Field 
 
 " I am very glad to serve you, Mr. Trevor," 
 the young man replied, blushing like a girl, " I 
 thought Lord Savile's attitude toward you 
 quite unwarranted." 
 
 " We Irishmen do not look for courtesy at 
 the hands of our conquerors, except in a few 
 rare instances," Clancarty said ; " but it is due 
 to you, Sir Edward, to tell you that my name 
 is not Trevor; I assumed it for convenience 
 only ; I am the proscribed exile, Donough 
 Macarthy of Clancarty." 
 
 Young Mackie stopped short with a gasp. 
 
 " Lady Clancarty's husband ! " he cried, 
 turning deadly pale. 
 
 Lord Clancarty bowed. " The same," he 
 said smiling, " and in telling you, I confide in 
 your honor not to reveal my identity even 
 to Lady Clancarty, unless I fall, and then I 
 would have her ladyship know that she was 
 free." 
 
 But young Mackie had not yet recovered 
 his composure ; he stared at the earl strangely. 
 
 " Does she not divine your identity ? " he 
 asked, and the pain in his face was so easy to 
 read that Lady Clancarty's husband smiled 
 again. 
 
 " I think not," he responded ; " but we must 
 go on unless we would be tardy at keeping the 
 
 121
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 tryst." Then he glanced sharply at the boy, 
 " I take it for granted that you are willing to 
 stand by me ; if not I fully pardon you, Sir 
 Edward, and I can go alone." 
 
 Young Mackie's face crimsoned. 
 
 "Nay, my lord," he said bluntly, "I did 
 not offer to stand by you for love, but for 
 honor's sake, and now I will for her sake," 
 and he raised his hat reverently. 
 
 Lord Clancarty bared his own head and 
 kissed the hilt of his sword. 
 
 " For her dear sake, sir," he said ; " so let 
 it be, I love you for it," and they walked on 
 in silence. 
 
 They passed through the grove of limes 
 and entered the field. As they did so, the sun- 
 beams, sloping from the hills, fell on the tree 
 tops, but the long meadow was in the shadow. 
 The sweetness of new-mown hay was in the air ; 
 there was a glint of white blossoming still upon 
 the hedgerow, and beyond, the red brown of 
 new turned earth and green, the green of the 
 turf and the hawthorn. 
 
 Across the meadow from the farther side 
 came Lord Savile and Mr. Benham, and as 
 the two parties approached they saluted 
 courteously. Clancarty was smiling, gracious, 
 perfectly at ease, but his opponent scowled 
 
 122
 
 Lady Betty takes the Field 
 
 sullenly; some instinct a brute one doubt- 
 less made him hate this daring Irishman. 
 Sir Edward, full of boyish importance, beckoned 
 Mr. Benham aside. 
 
 " Can't we adjust this difference, sir ? " he 
 asked ; " there is a serious reason why they 
 should not fight." 
 
 Benham stared at him coolly. "To be sure, 
 so I supposed," he drawled indifferently ; " but 
 Savile will give you twenty reasons why they 
 should." 
 
 " For all that, we might adjust it honorably," 
 urged Mackie, with feverish anxiety. 
 
 " Pshaw, man, we can't ! " said Benham, 
 with contempt ; " they 're both in love with the 
 same woman. You are inexperienced, sir," he 
 added aloud, smiling scornfully. " Measure 
 the paces, Sir Edward ; the sun is rising, and 
 the advantage will lie then with the man whose 
 back is toward it. We will draw lots, sir, so 
 ah, Lord Savile has drawn the best position," 
 and he laughed complacently. 
 
 Young Mackie, crimsoned with confusion 
 and annoyance, made no further effort at a 
 compromise ; instead he busied himself with 
 the weapons and in helping Lord Clancarty 
 strip off coat and waistcoat. Then the two 
 men confronted each other, sword in hand, and 
 123
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 as they did so the sun looked over the horizon 
 and the meadow suddenly lay in a golden mist 
 as the sparks flew from the steel. 
 
 This was the picture that Betty saw floating 
 in a golden haze, two strong, lithe figures 
 swaying lightly from side to side and the flash 
 of their naked swords at play. 
 
 " For shame ! " she cried, thrusting their 
 weapons aside with her own white hands, " for 
 shame ! So, there is no better cause for a fight 
 than a song? " 
 
 At the sight of her the two men stepped 
 back in sheer amazement, sinking their sword 
 points in the ground at her feet. 
 
 "Ay, shame on you both !" she cried with 
 sparkling eyes ; "'tis but a pretty fashion of 
 murder and I '11 none of it! Put up your 
 weapons, gentlemen, for he who draws his here 
 is my friend no more ! " 
 
 Lord Savile's sword leaped into its sheath, 
 but Clancarty kissed the hilt of his and handed 
 it to Lady Betty. 
 
 " Madam, my honor is involved," he said, 
 " and I place it in your hands." 
 
 The color rose in her cheeks and she turned 
 on Savile. 
 
 " My lord," she said wilfully, " I heard it 
 all, and 't is you who should ask pardon." 
 
 124
 
 Lady Betty takes the Field 
 
 Savile flushed darkly and folded his arms. 
 
 " My lady," he said, " my sword is at your 
 service, but you ask too much now." 
 
 " Ah, you will not trust me with your honor, 
 my lord," she retorted, with a little laugh. 
 
 " Nay," he replied testily, " a man may not 
 grovel to his foe." 
 
 " Oh," said Lady Betty, and she glanced at 
 him archly, "is your reasoning quite sound, 
 my lord ? " 
 
 Savile bit his lip ; he saw Lord Clancarty 
 smile and brush a fallen leaf from his sleeve 
 with elaborate care. 
 
 " Come, come," interposed Mr. Benham, 
 " let there be peace, since my lady wills it ; 
 and here, too, is young Mackie pining to 
 mediate. My lord, we cannot quarrel before 
 a lady," and he spoke a few words very low 
 in Savile's ear. 
 
 Betty, meanwhile, stood between them, 
 holding Clancarty's sword in her hand ; her 
 tall young figure outlined in the heavenly 
 morning sunshine, and the glory of the day in 
 her eyes. 
 
 " To put up your sword is naught, my lord, 
 unless there be peace," she said, smiling ingen- 
 uously, " pshaw, what a petty quarrel ! 'T is 
 like two women over a cup of tea or a new 
 125
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 gown," and she shrugged her shoulders pret- 
 tily. 
 
 Lord Savile crossed over to Clancarty. 
 
 " Your hand, sir," he said, and then, as he 
 clasped it, very low, " another time and another 
 place." 
 
 " I am always at your service," replied 
 Clancarty with a scornful smile, and he took 
 out his handkerchief and wiped the palm of 
 his right hand. 
 
 The gesture made Lady Betty smile and bite 
 her lip, though she had not heard the undertone. 
 
 " Faith, the morning is so lovely that it 
 augurs a peaceful day," she said, with her 
 sweetest manner. " Gentlemen, you are all 
 bidden to join my Lady Sunderland and me at 
 eleven for a cup of chocolate before we go to 
 the races." 
 
 " Who could refuse ? " Mr. Benham said 
 gallantly ; " when men make peace for your 
 sake, my lady, what would they not do ? " 
 
 But Lady Betty's quick eye caught the 
 gloom on the boyish face of young Mackie. 
 She held out her hand. 
 
 " Sir Edward, you will take me home to the 
 inn ? " she said. 
 
 He colored like a girl and involuntarily 
 glanced at Lord Clancarty ; then catching his 
 
 126
 
 Lady Betty takes the Field 
 
 lordship's falcon eye, he bowed in deep confu- 
 sion. . 
 
 " I 'm only too happy, my lady," he said. 
 
 She stood quite still, her bright eyes on 
 Lord Savile and Mr. Benham. Then she 
 pointed with her finger toward the farther end 
 of the field. 
 
 " Yonder," she said, " one combatant and his 
 friend retire, and," she turned quickly, pointing 
 
 in the opposite direction, " yonder, the others 
 
 i " 
 go! 
 
 Clancarty laughed. "A safe device, my 
 lady," he said, " but I could not fight without 
 my sword." 
 
 She blushed prettily and held it out to him. 
 
 " I forgot, sir," she said. 
 
 He took it gracefully, kissing the hand that 
 gave it in spite of her quick frown of dis- 
 pleasure. 
 
 Lord Savile bowed profoundly, his hand on 
 his heart. 
 
 " Madam, I obey," he said gallantly, and 
 retreated with Mr. Benham in the direction 
 she had chosen, and at the same time Lord 
 Clancarty went in the other, leaving Lady 
 Betty alone in the field with young Mackie. 
 
 Hovering in the distance was the muffled 
 figure of Alice, who had accompanied her 
 127
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 mistress to the grove of limes and halted there, 
 with her fingers in her ears, lest she should 
 hear the clash of swords. 
 
 But Lady Betty saw her not, nor the glory of 
 the day, nor the green of hedgerows and fields, 
 nor the blooming daisy at her feet. Her eyes 
 followed the figure of Clancarty, and there was 
 a shadow on her face. She shivered and drew 
 her cloak about her. 
 
 " Come, Sir Edward," she said, " we must 
 run for it ; I am a truant, and Lord Spencer 
 will put me upon bread and water if he finds me 
 upon such errands, and faith, sir, I deserve it ! " 
 
 128
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE INN GARDEN 
 
 BETWEEN two vases that overflowed 
 with scarlet geraniums, the worn stone 
 steps of the inn-yard descended directly 
 upon a gravel path in the old garden. The 
 path flanked on either side by tall hedges 
 wound completely around the garden and 
 through the centre, in a kind of true lovers' 
 knot, in the loops of which were all old- 
 fashioned flowers; pale tea roses the last of 
 September's bloom and mignonette ; pansies 
 and rosemary grew there, and the blue of lark- 
 spur. Only a few windows looked out upon 
 it, and it was a secluded spot where the sun 
 shone and the pigeons flocked. So still was it, 
 in the farther corners, that there was scarcely a 
 sound but the soft " kourre, kourre ! " of the 
 feathered visitors. 
 
 Here Lady Betty walked slowly, her hands 
 behind her, her head a little on one side, as she 
 talked to Clancarty, whom she still knew only 
 9 129
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 as Richard Trevor. She was dressed in white, 
 a bunch of red flowers at her belt and red 
 plumes in her hat, and either its broad brim 
 or her mood cast a shadow in her eyes. They 
 were softer, more pensive, and less sparkling 
 than usual. 
 
 " I was only eleven years old, sir," she said, 
 " a mere baby, and I have never seen Lord 
 Clancarty since. How should I know how 
 he looks ? Is not my curiosity pardonable ? 
 Pray, Mr. Trevor, describe him." 
 
 Her companion had been watching her 
 keenly and now he smiled. 
 
 " I 'm poor at descriptions, my lady," he 
 said calmly, " but take my word for it, 
 Clancarty 's a handsome man." 
 
 " About your height, sir ? " asked Lady 
 Betty, casting a quizzical, sidelong glance at 
 him. 
 
 He took time to consider. " Very nearly, 
 I should think, Lady Clancarty," he said, 
 " and straight as an arrow with a good head 
 and keen eyes, a fine nose, a firm chin oh, 
 a very handsome rascal, madam, and quite 
 unworthy of you." 
 
 "Indeed," said Betty, amused; "you take 
 the side, then, of my family ; they too believe 
 him unworthy." 
 
 130
 
 The Inn Garden 
 
 " He is unworthy, madam," said the dis- 
 guised nobleman gravely, " he is unworthy ; 
 but, in spite of that, I can't advise you to 
 cast him off. But for his skill as a swords- 
 man I should have lost my life ; I am there- 
 fore, of necessity, his true vassal, Lady 
 Clancarty, and I must plead his cause." 
 
 Lady Betty's face changed and she made a 
 petulant gesture. 
 
 " No one can plead it, sir/' she said sharply, 
 " he should plead it himself." 
 
 " He should indeed, madam," he said ear- 
 nestly, "but how ? Many things keep back a 
 proscribed exile and a beggar. How can he 
 plead his cause with the heiress of an earl, a 
 beautiful and gifted and wealthy woman ? 
 What can he offer her ? A life of exile, 
 poverty, and obscurity ? My Lady Clancarty, 
 any proud man might well pause." 
 
 But Betty's chin was elevated, her eyes 
 scornful. 
 
 "The pride is, of course, all on his side, 
 sir," she said coolly ; " there is naught to be 
 said for her. How, think you, does a woman 
 feel who is deserted by her husband ? Ay, 
 more, who is unacknowledged by him 
 unclaimed ! " 
 
 He started and looked at her earnestly.
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 "You are right, madam," he said, "it is a 
 grievous fault. I despise my Lord Clancarty 
 for it, but I know that the day will come when 
 he will sue for your forgiveness with all his 
 heart. And he has never known you. He 
 has been in battles, in sieges, in exile, in 
 poverty, in illness, and he was but a lad when 
 you were wedded. My lady, I can say no 
 more, even for him ; I would fain say it for 
 myself but for him." 
 
 She flashed a startled, wondering look at 
 him ; her heart stood still after all, was he ? 
 was he not? She did not know, but his eyes 
 held her ; she blushed, palpitated, shrank like 
 a mere child. From the first, she had thought 
 this man her husband, but now ? An awful 
 doubt shook her soul. Could it be that he 
 was not ? She put out her hands with a strange 
 gesture as though she would hold him off. 
 
 "'Tis fourteen years, sir," she said, "and 
 he has never written me one word or to my 
 family for me." 
 
 " That is not true," he replied gravely ; " I 
 know, from Lord Clancarty's own lips, that he 
 has written to your father within a short time, 
 ay, madam, twice since the Peace of Ryswick." 
 
 " Ah," said Lady Betty, for a light broke 
 in upon her, and she thought of the tall old 
 
 132
 
 The Inn Garden 
 
 man walking in the gallery at Althorpe, 
 " I never knew it," she added quietly, " my 
 whole family opposes any mention of of my 
 husband." 
 
 She pronounced the word with a soft adora- 
 ble hesitation, blushing rosily up to her very 
 ears, and his eyes glowed as he looked at her. 
 They turned a loop of the gravel walk and 
 passed Melissa, who huddled against the hedge, 
 courtesying low. Betty scarcely glanced at 
 her. 
 
 " Then there is no one to plead my friend's 
 cause but your own heart, Lady Clancarty," he 
 said quietly, " your own heart and the tie that 
 must plead for itself a little. I have no elo- 
 quence to match the occasion, willingly as I 
 serve my benefactor." 
 
 " I tell you plainly, sir," she retorted, " that 
 I will hear only one suit, and that is from him ; 
 nor will I, mark you, promise to hear that 
 favorably. Love, sir, is not cold and a lag- 
 gard and full of excuses. If I am worth hav- 
 ing I am worth winning." 
 
 " Madam, I am constrained to tell the truth," 
 he said in a tone of deep emotion ; " I believe 
 that Lord Clancarty would die to win you." 
 
 " Die, sir," she said archly, " rather live. 
 Dead he could not win me."
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 " Ay, and 't would be the bitterness of death 
 to lose you," he said ; " 't is so even to 
 think of it!" 
 
 The break in his words made her heart beat 
 fast, but she was mistress of herself now. 
 
 " Especially after fourteen years of absence," 
 she mocked wickedly. 
 
 " Fourteen years in purgatory, madam," he 
 replied, his tone full of pathos, of powerful 
 emotion under restraint ; " and when the poor 
 exile sees at last the gates of paradise ! ah, 
 my lady, you will not close them in his face ? " 
 
 She bowed her head a little, looking pen- 
 sively at the ground. A thousand emotions 
 swept across her charming face. Then she 
 looked up, her eyes dancing with mischief, 
 arch, naughty, daring. 
 
 "A singular paradise for my Lord Clan- 
 carty," she said, " a paradise with a Whiggish 
 Protestant wife in it, and a Whiggish Protes- 
 tant mother-in-law, and the greatest Whig in 
 England for a brother-in-law. Sir, I need 
 enumerate no more." 
 
 The Irishman laughed a little bitterly. 
 
 " Madam," he said, with daring tenderness 
 in his tone, " you know not what love is ! 
 Who would count the cost who loved ? By 
 all the saints, my lady, love burns away both 
 
 '34
 
 The Inn Garden 
 
 politics and creeds ; death itself is beaten by 
 it and hell ! Ah, to teach you how to love. 
 'T would be worth purgatory ! " his gray eyes 
 flashed, his strong face set itself sternly. 
 
 Lady Betty looking at him drew her breath 
 hard ; she was almost frightened. Here was a 
 nature she could not conquer and she could 
 not scorn. She bit her lip and looked steadily 
 away, her heart beating in her throat. 
 
 "If Lord Clancarty came here," he said 
 after a moment, in a constrained voice, " would 
 you see him ? would you listen to him ? " 
 
 She hesitated ; she no longer believed that 
 this man might be her husband ; he had suc- 
 ceeded in misleading her, and her whole soul 
 was tossing and burning in the fire of a new and 
 passionate emotion, but she tried to think. 
 
 " I would see him, yes," she said with white 
 lips, glancing defiantly at him, " he is my 
 husband." 
 
 His eyes darkened and his face changed ; 
 she could not read it. They had come back 
 to the old stone steps. At the top appeared 
 Lady Sunderland and Lady Dacres, too far off 
 as yet to be heard. 
 
 " He shall come, then, my lady," he said 
 very low, looking straight into her eyes, " he 
 shall come if he dies for it."
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 Lady Betty's face was as white as her gown, 
 and her fingers trembled as she swept her skirts 
 aside on either hand and courtesied gracefully. 
 
 " I bid you adieu, sir," she said, and walked 
 up the steps just as Lady Sunderland called 
 out sharply, 
 
 " Betty, Betty, come and take tea with us, 
 my love, and teach Lady Dacres that old game 
 of 'Angel Beast'; she hath forgotten it. La, 
 how white you are, my dear; a touch of rouge 
 and a patch you look like a ghost." 
 
 " I am, madam," said Lady Betty. 
 
 And the two dames stared. 
 
 That night the ruthless Lady Betty awakened 
 her attendant. 
 
 " Alice," she said, " hast ever heard the 
 legend of King Arthur ? " 
 
 The poor handmaid yawned. 
 
 "Nay, madam," she replied sleepily, "who 
 was he ? " 
 
 " A king of long ago, Alice," Lady Betty 
 explained, " I have heard the legend from my 
 old Welsh nurse, and part of it relates to his 
 wife, his queen. She was very beautiful, and 
 she had never seen the king when the marriage 
 was arranged." 
 
 " Oh, mercy on us, madam ! " exclaimed 
 136
 
 The Inn Garden 
 
 Alice, " and she did n't know what he looked 
 like?" 
 
 " Not at all," declared her mistress, " and 
 she set out with all her maidens to go to his 
 kingdom to be married " 
 
 "Indeed, my lady, couldn't he come for 
 her like a decent civil gentleman?" asked 
 Alice rousing up. 
 
 " No, no, he could n't come," said Lady 
 Clancarty, " but he sent his best friend, a 
 brave and noble knight, to meet her, and she 
 she thought he was the king in disguise 
 and and she fell in love with him, and when 
 she found out her mistake, and that the king 
 was wholly unlike this knight, she couldn't love 
 her husband she loved instead his friend." 
 
 " My goodness, Lady Betty, how improper ! " 
 said Alice horrified, " his friend was a false 
 man and no true knight ! " 
 
 Lady Betty had been sitting on the edge of 
 Alice's bed but she rose now and stood quite 
 still, her white figure showing in the darkness. 
 
 " But, Alice, she was so beautiful, so fasci- 
 nating he could n't help it, he loved her!" 
 
 " He could help it," said Alice stoutly, " he 
 stole her love from her husband ! He could 
 help it, just as a man can help stealing a 
 horse." 
 
 137
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 Betty gave a little gasp. 
 
 " And the queen ? " she said faintly. 
 
 " She was a very wicked woman, madam," 
 declared the moralist, shaking up her pillows 
 vigorously. " They do say that King Charles 
 had an awful court ; perhaps it was the 
 fashion." 
 
 " Perhaps it was," admitted Lady Betty, 
 and crept softly back to bed and wept salt 
 tears in solitude. 
 
 138
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 MY LADY SUNDERLAND TAKES TEA 
 
 A SMOKING teapot and some cups of 
 India ware adorned a table of polished 
 mahogany, the very best tea service in 
 the possession of the landlord of the Lion's 
 Head. And before it sat Lady Sunderland 
 and her intimate, Lady Dacres. Opposite, 
 Lady Betty was stirring a cup of chocolate. 
 There was a little black patch on her white 
 forehead and another on the tip of her rosy 
 chin, and her gown of gold-colored paduasoy 
 became her well. 
 
 A servant brought in a tray with some 
 glasses and a bottle of usquebaugh, and served 
 the elder dames, who had been pretending to 
 sip tea. The two worthies were just from the 
 cockpit and had won forty pounds between 
 them. Lady Sunderland, in a flowered brocade, 
 with a painted and patched face, could do 
 nothing but simper, and even old Lady Dacres 
 grinned placidly, while the younger countess 
 139
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 watched them from under her dark lashes and 
 made no comments. 
 
 " La, Betty, there never was such an obliging 
 man as young Savile," said Lady Sunderland, 
 sipping her usquebaugh ; " he ran about at the 
 cockpit to wait upon us, and his wit take 
 my word for it, we 'd have lost fifty pounds 
 but for his judgment of the birds." 
 
 " Oh, he knows whose mamma to wait 
 upon ! " said Lady Dacres, with a sly wink at 
 her friend ; " how sweet the young fellows are 
 to the mother of such a daughter." 
 
 Lady Sunderland tittered. " There was a 
 time when I thought it was the mamma and 
 not the daughter," she said, with a simper; 
 " but now it 's, c How 's Lady Clancarty ? ' and 
 f Where's your ladyship's daughter?' and 
 * My compliments to the fair Lady Elizabeth.' 
 La, how the beaux smirk and bow ! " 
 
 " Now 's your chance, Betty, dear," said 
 Lady Dacres ; " don't make 'em dance too 
 long, my girl, we can't be young but once." 
 
 Betty gave her a cold stare. " I 'm already 
 married, madam," she said, and pushed the 
 bottle nearer to the elbow of the old peeress ; 
 "take another drop, my lady, 'twill sustain 
 you under the blow." 
 
 Lady Sunderland set down her glass and 
 140
 
 My Lady Sunder land takes 'Tea 
 
 fixed her daughter with an irate eye, but before 
 she could give voice to her wrath they were 
 interrupted by the entrance of Lord Spencer. 
 He came in with an air of cool elegance, fault- 
 lessly attired, and bowing gracefully to the 
 three women, kissed his mother's hand, and 
 took his place with his back to the window, 
 overlooking them with an air of superiority 
 that was peculiarly exasperating to his high- 
 spirited sister. 
 
 " La, my dear, what a happy woman you 
 are," Lady Dacres said, in an audible aside to 
 Lady Sunderland, " to be the mother of two 
 such beautiful children. 'Pon my soul, Spencer 
 would have broken my heart at eighteen ! " 
 
 " Nay, you would have broken mine, 
 madam," Lord Spencer replied gracefully. 
 
 She giggled and took another draught 
 of usquebaugh, following Lady Clancarty's 
 suggestion. 
 
 " Tell us the news, Spencer," said Lady 
 Betty impatiently, with a contemptuous glance 
 at the old woman. 
 
 " The king is better," said her brother, with 
 a drawl, "and the Princess of Denmark did 
 not go out to-day because of a quarrel with 
 Lady Marlborough." 
 
 " Poor soul, she 's little better than a 
 141
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 slave," remarked Betty scornfully ; " is that 
 all ? " 
 
 " No ; the news of the day is the duel. It 
 has just come out that Sir Thomas Comp- 
 ton shot and killed his brother-in-law last 
 Tuesday." 
 
 Lady Sunderland gave a little scream of 
 surprise. "What? Shot Lord Fraunces ? " 
 
 Spencer nodded gloomily. 
 
 " And wherefore ? " demanded his sister. 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Because he was a traitqfr," he said coolly ; 
 " he kept his horse saddled in his stable ready 
 for flight, and two grooms at his beck ; this 
 made Compton suspect him. So he went 
 down to Deptford, on pretence of seeing his 
 sister, and he found the fellow was in league 
 with the French party and There was a 
 quarrel and he shot him. There 's an article 
 about it in the Post-Boy." 
 
 " The cold-hearted brute ! " cried Betty ; 
 " his poor sister loved her husband dearly. 
 Where is she ? " 
 
 " Mad as Bedlam," replied her brother 
 coolly ; " a man must do his duty, even if it 
 kills his sister." 
 
 " Oh, I suppose so," said Lady Betty, rising, 
 " he must stab her to the heart and glory in 
 142
 
 My Lady Sunder land takes Tea 
 
 it for his party," she added mockingly ; " a 
 fine spirit, sir, I admire it ! " 
 
 " So do I," he replied pompously, staring 
 at her with hard eyes ; " a man must do his 
 duty, like a Spartan, to his king, his con- 
 science, and his party. There are examples 
 enough in the history of Greece and of Rome, 
 lofty " 
 
 " Nonsense ! " cried Lady Betty vigorously, 
 " to the wind with, your examples. Give me 
 a noble heart, a Christian life, a brotherly love, 
 a willingness to live and die for high purposes. 
 Poor Lady Fraunces ! " 
 
 " Oh, never you mind, my dear," put in old 
 Lady D acres, with a titter, " she '11 get over it. 
 Grief does n't kill ; her mother had three hus- 
 bands and " she whispered a scandal behind 
 her fan to Lady Sunderland, who was so over- 
 come with her wit that she rocked with laughter, 
 wiping the tears from her eyes. 
 
 " Your sympathy is quite absurd," said 
 Spencer, looking straight into Betty's eyes. 
 " Sir Thomas did his duty. I would have 
 sent a traitor brother-in-law to the block, 
 madam, quite as cheerfully." 
 
 "And your sister also, I presume," she 
 replied, courtesying profoundly ; " from my 
 heart I thank you, my lord."
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 " Oh, la, Betty, drink your chocolate and 
 don't be a fool," said her mother petulantly. 
 
 Betty smiled sweetly. 
 
 " I thank you," she said, " I have quite 
 finished it. I will send some more to my 
 Lord Spencer," and she walked out of the 
 room with her head in the air. 
 
 Halfway across the hall she met a servant, 
 the Irishman Denis. He stopped her with a 
 bow, one hand on his heart and an air of great 
 secrecy and gallantry, and he handed her a 
 letter. She took it as silently, and when she 
 reached her own door she hid it in her bosom 
 for she knew that Alice Lynn was there. The 
 girl had been folding up her ladyship's finery 
 and looked up at her entrance. 
 
 " Everything is ready now, my lady," she 
 said, " and if it pleases you, I will go into town 
 a little way to buy that ribbon for you." 
 
 " Certainly, Alice," Betty assented with alac- 
 rity, " and here is the money ; and stop, too, at 
 the haberdasher's and buy some more of that 
 silk ; and here, my girl, get some pink rib- 
 bon for that Sunday frock of yours, I will 
 have you look your best." 
 
 Alice courtesied and thanked her, blushing 
 with pleasure. 
 
 " You are so dear a mistress to me, madam," 
 144
 
 My Lady Sunderland takes Tea 
 
 she said tenderly, "I am not half worthy 
 of it." 
 
 Lady Clancarty patted her cheek. 
 
 " Do you love me, Alice ? " she asked 
 pensively. 
 
 " Dearly, madam," said the girl, simply, 
 " and I would serve you as my family served 
 yours faithfully forever." 
 
 Lady Betty sighed. 
 
 " I may need it," she said, and busied her- 
 self examining some lace and ribbons that 
 Alice had just laid aside. 
 
 " I trust you may need nothing but my love 
 and service, madam," Alice said ; " may happi- 
 ness and love and honor ever attend my dear, 
 dear lady," and she went on talking cheerfully 
 of the fair day, the sunshine, and the gay scene 
 without, for she saw a shadow on the countess' 
 face and it troubled her loyal heart. 
 
 But Lady Clancarty said not a word. In- 
 stead, her eyes avoided the girl's honest glance ; 
 she blushed and paled like a guilty thing, but 
 an adorable smile trembled on her lips. Not 
 until Alice went out, closing the door behind 
 her, did Betty move. Then she shot the 
 bolts and drew forth the paper from her bosom ; 
 she looked over her shoulder, smiled, carried 
 it half way to her face, started, and held it off 
 
 10 145
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 again, opening it, at last, under the window. 
 The sheet was closely covered with writing 
 and she read it eagerly, and her hands quivered 
 so that the paper shook, and she fell on 
 her knees beside the window and leaning her 
 arms upon the sill, buried her face upon them. 
 She knelt there a long time, the sunlight 
 touching her hair and the beautiful curves of 
 her shoulders. After a while she rose, and 
 going slowly to the mirror stood looking at 
 herself, the crumpled paper in her hand. Her 
 face was white as snow but beautiful, with quite 
 a new and tender beauty. She scarcely knew 
 herself, even when she smiled, nodding at her 
 own reflection. 
 
 " 'T is he ! " Lady Betty murmured to the 
 mirror, laughing softly, "'tis he! Oh, my 
 prophetic heart I knew it! " 

 
 nr 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 MY LORD CLANCARTY 
 
 HERE was a ball that night at New- 
 market, but Lady Clancarty did not 
 -*- go, in spite of the commands and en- 
 treaties of Lady Sunderland. The elder coun- 
 tess was particularly anxious to display her 
 handsome daughter at the assembly, and nothing 
 could exceed her anger and chagrin at the 
 younger woman's obstinacy. By afternoon the 
 quarrel waxed so hot that Betty pleaded illness 
 and went to bed, as a last resort, and stayed 
 there, too, in spite of her mother's rage. Lady 
 Sunderland, who in a passion could forget 
 herself and use such language as only a fish- 
 wife or a woman of fashion could command, 
 heaped recriminations on her daughter, and 
 screamed and chattered and swore a little, too, 
 for my lady was a pupil and an apt one 
 of the court of Charles the Second. But Lady 
 Betty was more than her match in wit and 
 strength of will, and she won the victory. 
 H7
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 When the hour for the ball arrived, her mother 
 had to go with Lord Spencer and leave her 
 daughter calmly ensconced in bed, defiant and 
 triumphant. The Countess of Sunderland's 
 chair was brought to the inn door, preceded 
 by the link-boys with their lanthorns, and the 
 lady was helped into it by her son, her very 
 headdress quivering with rage and the color of 
 the paint upon her cheeks enhanced by the 
 flush of anger. 
 
 " The minx ! " she exclaimed to Spencer, 
 " I don't believe she 's ill at all ; it 's nothing 
 but her obstinacy and some fancy she has about 
 that scapegrace, Clancarty. The saucy little 
 baggage defied me, and looked as lovely as any 
 nymph all the time ! Your father must see to 
 it there must be a divorce from that creature, 
 or next thing, she'll run away to France with 
 him ; she 's equal to it, the little wretch ! " 
 
 " Never, madam," said Spencer solemnly, 
 " I 'd see her dead first before she disgraced 
 the family ! " 
 
 If the truth be told, this was too much for 
 the countess ; she gasped and stared uneasily 
 at this self-righteous young man, who certainly 
 resembled her as little as he did the versatile 
 and unprincipled Sunderland. 
 
 Meanwhile, the invalid at the Lion's Head 
 \ 148
 
 My Lord C lane arty 
 
 had miraculously recovered and dressed herself 
 with the assistance of Alice, who viewed the 
 whole proceeding with amazement and distinct 
 disapproval. She knew that Lady Clancarty 
 had not been ill and she looked upon the strat- 
 agem as an unworthy deceit. Her mistress, 
 reading her as easily as an open book, under- 
 stood the girl's mood and said nothing to her. 
 Instead, she set her the task of lighting the 
 candles in the room where she received her 
 guests, and seeing that the servant replenished 
 the wood fire and drew the curtains. Finally 
 she came in herself, a charming figure in pink, 
 with a single rose in her hair. Finding every- 
 thing arranged to her satisfaction, she dismissed 
 her attendant and waited quite alone, standing 
 before the hearth and gazing pensively at the 
 fire. Though she was outwardly calm, a storm 
 was raging in her bosom. He had asked for 
 this interview and he was coming, and now she 
 shrank from the thought of this meeting with 
 sudden trepidation. She bit her lip and stared 
 into the fire, but her hands quivered and her 
 heart beat almost to suffocation. She had 
 thought of this moment many, many times 
 girlish day-dreams of her lover and husband 
 coming to claim her but she had never pic- 
 tured anything like this. A proscribed rebel, 
 149
 
 My Lady Clan car ty 
 
 who was forced to see her secretly, and the 
 man himself ah, that was it ! Here was a 
 powerful personality that she had never im- 
 agined ; there was something in his eyes, his 
 voice that drew her to him with so strange a 
 fascination that it frightened her. She knew 
 just how he would look, just the flash in his 
 gray eyes, the deep tones of his voice, before 
 she saw him enter. She struggled with herself 
 when she heard his tread in the hall and knew 
 it and she was listening with strained ears, 
 when the door was opened for him. But 
 Lady Betty was not one to show the white 
 feather ; she drew her breath hard and straight- 
 ened herself, and then she opened that fan of 
 hers a beautiful affair from one of the India 
 houses in London and she swayed it to and 
 fro shading her face. 
 
 Lord Clancarty came into the room with a 
 springing step, his face flushed and his eyes 
 shining; he wore, indeed, the air of a conquer- 
 ing hero. But, almost at the threshold, he 
 halted and stood gazing at Betty in amaze- 
 ment. She was still standing before the fire, 
 slowly wielding the fan, her face averted, pale, 
 cold, her chin up. Nothing could have been 
 more frozen than her attitude ; it chilled even 
 his ardor, and he stood, with his hat in his 
 150
 
 My Lord C lane arty 
 
 hand, and for a few moments there was silence. 
 Then Lady Betty broke it. 
 
 " I received your note, my lord," she said, 
 in an icy tone. 
 
 " The devil you did, madam," he said, " I 
 should think that I had sent you a cartel 
 from your manner of receiving me ! Faith, 
 my lady, you seem marvellous glad to see 
 your husband." 
 
 A shadow of a smile flickered in Betty's eyes. 
 
 " A welcome kept too long grows cold, sir," 
 she replied. 
 
 He took a step toward her, tossing his hat 
 upon the table, and something in his face made 
 her back closer to the fire; he saw it and 
 stopped, smiling. 
 
 "You do not believe in me," he said re- 
 proachfully; " I would have wooed you and 
 won you, dear, but for the cruelty of fate. I 
 am your husband," he added softly ; " does not 
 that plead a little ? " 
 
 " A childish contract, a mere formal mock- 
 ery," replied Lady Betty, cool as ice, looking 
 at him across the candles, " I should not dream 
 of being bound by it no generous man would 
 base any claim upon it, sir ; " she told this false- 
 hood glibly, though her very soul shook under 
 his glance.
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 The blood rushed up to his forehead. 
 
 " Have I based any claim upon it, madam ? " 
 he asked proudly. 
 
 This blow went home ; her ladyship turned 
 crimson and bit her lips in silence. 
 
 " Nay, you do p*t know me," he said, and 
 his rich Irish voice deepened and softened 
 with restrained emotion ; " I would scorn to 
 base any claim upon a tie not freely niade 
 for you were a child but I thought,*' 1 ;, he 
 paused, searching her face keenly, " I thought 
 your husband might win your heart, my lady." 
 
 She gave him a quick look, and then her 
 eyes avoided his and she struggled hard for 
 self-mastery. If he had known it then one 
 word more, one step farther but he waited 
 for her reply, and the wayward mood came 
 back upon her. 
 
 " Fourteen years, my lord," she said, shrug- 
 ging her shoulders, " and then, you plead your 
 title to my my affections ! " 
 
 " Fourteen years," he repeated slowly, " four- 
 teen years less of paradise, Betty, is not that 
 enough punishment for me ? " 
 
 She averted her face and did not reply. 
 He came a step nearer and she felt his hand 
 closing over hers. 
 
 " Would you have come but for the Peace 
 152
 
 My Lord Clancarty 
 
 of Ryswick ? " she asked, looking up into 
 his eyes. 
 
 He smiled. "If we had won before," he 
 replied, "if we had only won I would have 
 come, a victor, to claim you. Betty, I did not 
 know you, I had never pictured you as you 
 are ! I went to Althorpe like a thief in dis- 
 guise, to see you, and from that moment in the 
 greenwood, I loved you I love you madly 
 now ! " he whispered, and she felt his breath 
 warm on her cheek. 
 
 She did not dare to look at him now. 
 
 " I love you," he said softly, "and does 
 my wife care nothing for me? " 
 
 Before she realized it he had his arm around 
 her, his lips almost touched hers. Then she 
 broke away from him, her eyes flashing, her 
 face on fire. 
 
 " You go too far, sir," she cried angrily, 
 " you say you base no claim upon our rela- 
 tion, and then and then " she stopped, 
 her breast heaving, tears in her eyes. 
 
 He smiled. " And then ? I would have 
 kissed you," he said, " by Saint Patrick, I 
 would give a kingdom if it were mine to 
 kiss you, but I will not force you to it, Lady 
 Clancarty ! " 
 
 " You dare not ! " she flashed at him angrily.
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 His eyes blazed. "I dare not?" he re- 
 peated, " forsooth, madam, that is an ill word 
 to use to Donough Macarthy ; I dare any- 
 thing ! But I want no woman against her 
 will. I would n't give that, madam," he snapped 
 his fingers, " not that for you without your 
 heart ! " 
 
 She was silent for a moment, but the expres- 
 sion of his face, his masterful manner, stung 
 her pride and angered her. 
 
 " You are a proscribed traitor, my lord," 
 she said angrily, " how can you ask me to 
 share your life ? " 
 
 His look withered her. 
 
 " Madam," he said, " I ask for your love. 
 No loving woman ever thought of valuing her 
 husband by his misfortunes. I am a beggar 
 and an exile, my lady, and I have done wrong 
 to sue for your heart. I see that like your 
 father you value men by their positions in 
 the world ! " 
 
 Her face was crimson. " You insult me, 
 my lord ! " she cried passionately. 
 
 " Did you not insult me ? " he asked bit- 
 terly; " do you not infer that I only ask you 
 because I am broken in fortune and name 
 a bankrupt ? But look you, my lady, I cringe 
 at no rich man's door for his daughter ! " he
 
 My Lord C lane arty 
 
 paused, and his red-hot anger suddenly turned 
 to ashes ; his eyes dwelt on her with an affec- 
 tion that moved her deeply ; " I love you," 
 he said, " I would have sued for your heart on 
 my knees but, madam, I will take scorn 
 from no one not even from you. In exile, 
 in illness, in suffering, I have often thought of 
 you your face shone like a star upon me, 
 your pictured face, Betty, and when I saw you, 
 ah," he paused, looking into the fire, " I love 
 you still but you are Lord Sunderland's 
 daughter. He has scorned the ruined Irishman, 
 and you you scorn me too, it seems. Fare- 
 well, my lady, you are my wife but hence- 
 forth I seek you no more. If you love me, 
 'twill be for you to tell the exile, the proscribed 
 traitor, so." 
 
 Betty threw out her hands wildly. 
 
 " You wrong me, sir," she protested faintly ; 
 <c I did not mean to reproach you with poverty ; 
 I I spoke in anger." 
 
 But he stood like a statue. 
 
 u You do not love me," he said, his deep 
 voice quivering, " and mark you, Lady Clan- 
 carty, I will have nothing but your love your 
 love ; I shall take no less ! I love you, you 
 are my very own, my wife," his tone was 
 masterful, "but I, who love you, I will not
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 sue for your heart. I am too poor, madam, I 
 will not ask you to share an exile's lot, you are 
 too great a lady," he took his hat from the 
 table and bowed profoundly. 
 
 He longed to catch her in his arms and kiss 
 her, but he was too proud ; he bowed and she 
 courtesied low, and in the dim light of the 
 candles he could not see the pallor of her face, 
 he could not hear her heart beat. Pride met 
 pride. 
 
 " I bid you farewell, my lady," he said, and 
 bowed himself out of the room. 
 
 And Betty fell upon her knees beside the 
 table and laid her proud head down upon it 
 and wept as though her heart would break. 
 
 " Oh," she sobbed to herself, " I am a beast, 
 a heartless little beast," and then she wept 
 again, this being the manner of women. 
 
 And she did not see the door of Lady 
 Sunderland's room open noiselessly, upon a 
 tiny crack, stay so a moment, and then close 
 again as silently. She neither saw nor heard 
 it in the passion of her grief. 
 
 156
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 AT THE TOY-SHOP 
 
 THE star of Lady Clancarty's fortune 
 for that week at Newmarket was an 
 evil star. For it was the very day 
 after that fateful interview with her husband, a 
 day that dawned after a night of repentance 
 and good resolutions, that another straw turned 
 the tide against reconciliation. Lady Sunder- 
 land's party had spent the forenoon at the 
 theatre, and on their way to the race-course 
 they stopped at Master Drake's toy-shop on 
 the promenade ; a shop famous not only for 
 the toys and trinkets of a kind that amused the 
 women of fashion, but for the tea that he served 
 in a little room in the rear, which was divided 
 into stalls like those in coffee-rooms. Here 
 both beaux and belles congregated to sip tea, 
 and gossip, and raffle for some choice toy from 
 India. 
 
 The shop, recently replenished by its wily 
 proprietor, was a glittering mass of novelties
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 and almost vied with the famous India houses 
 of London in its collection of Oriental articles. 
 Here were hideous dragons of porcelain, snuff- 
 boxes with jewelled lids, and canes of the latest 
 fashion, jars of snuff and pulvillo, and bottles 
 of rare perfumes, gilded flasks of cut glass, 
 boxes of patches ready cut for the cheeks and 
 brows of the beauties, ivory combs and fans of 
 wonderful and beautiful design, delicate tea-sets 
 and many bits of Dutch china, first accepted 
 because of the example of Queen Mary, gloves 
 and laces and even India shawls. Here, too, 
 were toys, jewelry, cogged dice, masks, dom- 
 inoes and vizors, and here, as in London, the 
 discreet toy-men handed billets-doux back and 
 forth and made appointments between the 
 beaux and belles ; and here many a meeting 
 took place, and many a momentous question 
 was settled for all time, either in the toy-shop 
 itself or in the stalls behind it, where the world 
 of fashion reigned. 
 
 My Lady Sunderland and my Lady Dacres 
 were no sooner there than they were plunged in 
 the excitement of a raffle for a hideous china 
 dragon, and almost came to blows for the posses- 
 sion of the treasure. But Lady Betty, quite 
 indifferent, stood apart talking to a group of 
 gay young people near the entrance. My 
 
 158
 
 At the Toy-Shop 
 
 Lord of Devonshire was there, and the Marquis 
 of Hartington, and in their train, young Mackie, 
 upon whom the Countess of Clancarty smiled ; 
 and there, too, was Lord Savile, who had been 
 at her elbow all the morning and would have 
 declared his passion for her had he dared. 
 And she was in a reckless mood ; her eyes 
 sparkled, her cheeks glowed, and she laughed 
 and jested, though her heart ached. 
 
 The king was well enough to be present at 
 the race in the afternoon and all the world was 
 agog to see him. The throng at the toy-shop 
 grew greater as the people stopped on their 
 way from the theatre to the track, and the 
 group at the door grew larger with Lady Betty 
 in the centre of it, sparkling and flushing and 
 laughing, the picture of a beautiful coquette. 
 
 " All the great men go up to Parliament 
 next Wednesday, Lady Clancarty," said Mr. 
 Benham, " and we shall see your brother shine 
 as the bright particular star of the Whig firma- 
 ment." 
 
 " A star a constellation rather; the Little 
 Bear of the party," laughed Lady Betty ro- 
 guishly ; " what will you do this season, my 
 Lord of Devonshire ? " 
 
 The great man smiled benevolently upon the 
 beauty.
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 " Whatever your heart desires, madam," he 
 replied gallantly. 
 
 Betty flashed a quick look at him. 
 
 " Will you indeed, my lord ? " she asked 
 archly ; " what if I should ask a great boon 
 even half thy kingdom ? " 
 
 Devonshire looked at the beautiful, flushed 
 face and marvelled. 
 
 " Even that, dear Lady Betty," he replied 
 courteously, " even that." 
 
 " I have your word, my lord," she said, and 
 laughed softly. 
 
 " And mine," murmured Savile, in her ear, 
 " you have not asked but it is the whole of 
 my kingdom." 
 
 " Ah," she said, and gave him a roguish 
 glance, " I do remember but not your entire 
 trust in my decision ! " 
 
 He blushed crimson. " I upheld my honor 
 then," he murmured, looking into her eyes ; 
 " my heart is yours to break at will ! " 
 
 Her expression changed, changed so sharply 
 that he looked around, following the direction 
 of her glance, and saw the face of the man he 
 hated the Irish Jacobite. Lord Clancarty 
 stood just within the door, his eyes holding 
 Betty's against her will. Savile heard her 
 quick gasp, saw her hands flutter, and he thrust 
 
 1 60
 
 At the Toy-Shop 
 
 himself between with a black look at Clancarty. 
 But Lady Betty, trying to collect herself, met 
 young Mackie's eyes and saw that he knew. 
 The blood rushed to her temples but she 
 laughed. 
 
 " My lord," she said to Devonshire, " does 
 your horse run to-day ? or my Lord Savile's 
 gray mare ? " 
 
 Devonshire smiled. " Both, my lady," he 
 said, " and Savile will be a bankrupt before 
 night in all but love, I suspect." 
 
 "A poor substitute for a full purse, my 
 lord," she said recklessly, without taking 
 thought of her words until she felt rather than 
 saw Clancarty 's grave look at her. " I mean," 
 she stammered, " in my Lord Savile's case " 
 and then she stopped, covered with confusion. 
 
 Never had Lady Betty made so many mis- 
 takes, but young Mackie came valiantly to her 
 aid. 
 
 " Have you heard the rumor that the King 
 of Spain is dying ? " he asked innocently. 
 
 " He has been dying for a long time," re- 
 marked Mr. Benham laughing, " and the King 
 of France and the emperor are dying of 
 anxiety." 
 
 " Precisely, and but for our king there would 
 be a war for the succession within a week," 
 " 161
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 said Devonshire thoughtfully ; " as it is, the 
 peace of Europe hangs by a thread the nar- 
 row thread of a sickly man's life." 
 
 "Yes," put in Betty, herself again, "and 
 Parliament is for cutting down the military 
 establishment." 
 
 Devonshire smiled. "The people do not 
 love a standing army, Lady Clancarty," he 
 replied. 
 
 " No," she responded quickly, " they would 
 perhaps prefer a French fleet in the Thames." 
 
 " Some of 'em would," said Savile sullenly. 
 
 " No, sir, you are wrong," declared Devon* 
 shire, " no Englishman would not even a 
 Jacobite when it came to that. You re- 
 member how the southern counties rose to 
 repulse Tourville's squadron in '90 ? " 
 
 " You are in the right, my lord ; no true 
 Briton has ever thought of seeing his country 
 under the heel of Louis," said Clancarty, sud- 
 denly taking part in the conversation. 
 
 " Some traitors who are not Englishmen 
 would, Mr. Trevor," sneered Savile, with 
 an emphasis on the name. 
 
 The disguised earl shot a fierce glance at him 
 and smiled dangerously. 
 
 " Little dogs snarl when they dare not bite, 
 my lord," he said suavely. 
 162
 
 At the Toy-Shop 
 
 " Since the famous peace, sir, all the rene- 
 gades and cutpurses talk loud," replied Savile, 
 in an insolent undertone. 
 
 " Cowards always insult men in the presence 
 of women," retorted Clancarty smiling. 
 
 At this moment they were interrupted by a 
 movement of the throng, some passing out, 
 and my Lady Sunderland, having won her 
 Chinese dragon from all competitors, bore 
 down upon them flushed with triumph, and 
 the chairs were called. 
 
 Betty stood a moment at the threshold. 
 Clancarty was beside her, his face quite grave. 
 She looked up; the impulse was in her heart 
 to speak and their eyes met but his were cold. 
 
 "You choose wisely, my lady," he said, in a 
 bitter undertone, "a full purse is better than a 
 beggarly love, it seems." 
 
 She flushed crimson. 
 
 Savile thrust himself forward and held out 
 his hand. 
 
 " Permit me to put you in your chair, my 
 lady," he said, grace and courtesy personified ; 
 handsome, well dressed, courtly, the very 
 picture of a deferential lover. 
 
 " A thousand thanks, my lord," she said 
 sweetly, putting her hand in his. 
 
 He put her in her chair and the procession 
 163
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 started, Lady Sunderland screaming to the 
 toy-man about the careful packing of her 
 dragon, and Betty looked out smiling, more 
 charming than ever. 
 
 A moment afterwards, Clancarty and Savile 
 faced each other. 
 
 " This very evening would be propitious, 
 my lord," said the Irishman coolly, " the same 
 spot, I believe, and the same seconds ? " 
 
 " At your service, sir," said Savile fiercely, 
 "and damn you, I mean to kill you ! " 
 
 " I 'm beholden to you, my lord," replied 
 the earl, and laughed as he walked away. 
 
 "Ah, Betty," he said to himself, as he 
 passed on toward the Lion's Head, "is a 
 coquette worth dying for ? " and then, after a 
 moment, he hummed two lines of the old 
 song : 
 
 *' A second life, a soul anew, 
 My dark Rosalecn ! " 
 
 164
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE DUEL 
 
 TT^V ENIS," said Lord Clancarty laugh- 
 1 ing, " in five minutes they will be 
 
 -*^ here and in ten I may be dead." 
 
 " Divil a bit, my lord," said Denis hope- 
 fully, " unless you are kilt intirely." 
 
 But there was a strange look in the faithful 
 Irishman's eyes, a look of mute suffering. 
 Lord Clancarty slipped a ring off his finger 
 and gave it to him. 
 
 " Denis," he said, in an even voice, quiet 
 and cheerful, " if I fall, take that to Lady Clan- 
 carty and tell her that she is free." 
 
 " Yes, my lord," replied Denis, in a dull 
 tone, not looking up. 
 
 " Even if I do not fall, you will take it to 
 her with that message," continued the earl, 
 looking across the meadow at the approaching 
 figures of his opponent and their seconds and, 
 perhaps, his thoughts dwelt on that morning 
 when Lady Betty put the swords aside. " We 
 165
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 will leave here to-morrow, Denis, or " he 
 shrugged his shoulders, " there is little money 
 left." 
 
 " Faix, we '11 have to see th' Jews again, me 
 lord," said the man dolefully ; " they 're afther 
 bein' me most familiar friends, the jewels ! " 
 
 Clancarty laughed. 
 
 A moment later he was bowing with cere- 
 monious courtesy to Lord Savile and Mr. 
 Benham. Young Mackie came up, too, bring- 
 ing a fourth person. 
 
 " I brought a surgeon, gentlemen," he said 
 half apologetically ; " Dr. Radcliffe, my Lord 
 Savile and Mr. Trevor." 
 
 Dr. Radcliffe, a large man wearing a rich but 
 old-fashioned dress and a huge periwig, bowed 
 gravely. He had a large practice and was 
 famous for a freedom of speech that had once 
 gone so far as to offend King William. 
 
 " I have to thank you, gentlemen, for fur- 
 nishing me with patients," he remarked dryly ; 
 " let me beg you not to be too thorough." 
 
 " 'T is to be to the finish, doctor," said 
 Clancarty coolly, that dangerous smile on his 
 lips. 
 
 " A devilish poor plan," said the doctor, 
 with a shrug ; " it will take more than my skill 
 to resuscitate a corpse." 
 166
 
 The Duel 
 
 " We shall not expect a miracle even from 
 the great Dr. Radcliffe," replied Clancarty. 
 
 Mr. Benham and young Mackie were 
 measuring the ground. Denis, in the mean- 
 time, turned his face away and looked toward 
 the setting sun ; it may be that he was wish- 
 ing for the shoes he wore at Boyne, but it is 
 not recorded. The clouds overhead were red 
 and the level meadows bathed in the slanting 
 rays of light ; long shadows fell across the 
 scene ; a bird sang in the grove of limes, 
 
 The two men stepped into the open, stripped 
 of coats and waistcoats, their white shirts show- 
 ing vividly against the green background. 
 Lord Savile was flushed, but Clancarty's face 
 was singularly serene. The signal was given ; 
 their weapons flashed, and there was the sudden 
 ring of steel on steel. 
 
 Ah, 't was a wonderful duel ; afterwards, 
 men spoke of it as a kind of triumph in the 
 art of duelling, and Dr. Radcliffe described it 
 to the Princess Anne and the Duke of Marl- 
 borough. Clancarty was an Irishman and 
 therefore a born fighter, though the English- 
 men of that day thought all Irishmen cowards 
 because the poor, barefoot peasants ran before 
 the trained battalions of the English and 
 Dutch. Moreover, the young earl had served 
 167
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 a long apprenticeship on the Continent ; and 
 in France duelling was the breath of men's 
 nostrils. Clancarty fought that day recklessly 
 and beautifully ; he was lithe and graceful as a 
 panther, with a wrist like steel and an eye that 
 never faltered, and he had met no mean antag- 
 onist ; my Lord Savile was counted one of the 
 best swordsmen in the Guards, and hating his 
 opponent he fought with fury. 
 
 Steel ground on steel and the sparks flew, 
 thrust and parry, point and blade, stroke on 
 stroke. The others watched in breathless ad- 
 miration ; they even forgot their individual in- 
 terest in the struggle and stood gaping like 
 schoolboys. Both men were tired, yet both 
 played on, evenly matched, relentless and 
 reckless. There was a sudden thrust over 
 Savile's guard and then, in an instant, Lord 
 Clancarty's sword snapped at the hilt, just as 
 Savile's crossed it and passed into his breast. 
 It was over in a moment, and he lay full length 
 on the turf and the blood was flowing from a 
 cut in his antagonist's neck. 
 
 " Oh, my lord, my own dear lord ! " wailed 
 Denis, falling on his knees, and even Lord 
 Savile's face was white as chalk. 
 
 
 
 In the dimly lighted hall of the inn that 
 168
 
 The Duel 
 
 night, Denis, with a lined, drawn face, white as 
 a dead man's, laid something in Lady Betty's 
 hand. 
 
 " Me lord's greetings to me lady," he said 
 in a strained voice ; " I was to give ye that 
 an' say, ( Ye are quite free ' ! " 
 
 Lady Betty stared at him wildly. She read 
 a message of calamity in his face. 
 
 " What is it ? What has happened ? " she 
 cried. 
 
 But the Irishman only gave her one look of 
 deep reproach and plunged down the stairs into 
 the hubbub of the court. 
 
 Clancarty's ring and " you are free " ! 
 
 She swayed so that Alice Lynn, who came 
 running toward her, caught her in her arms and 
 almost carried her to her room. 
 
 169
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 MY LORD SAVILE REAPS HIS REWARD 
 
 LADY SUNDERLAND was, as usual, 
 playing cards with her crony. The 
 game was gleek, and Lady Dacres 
 was determined to be avenged for the loss of 
 the Chinese dragon grinning hideously 
 from the mantel and she was betting and 
 cheating desperately. Dr. Radcliffe made a 
 third, and Lord Spencer looked on politely 
 bored. 
 
 The tapers burned brightly and Lady Sun- 
 derland simpered and nodded her head at Dr. 
 Radcliffe, though she would not have tolerated 
 his society if he had not been physician to the 
 Princess Anne and she hoped to extract some 
 royal gossip from him. 
 
 The host of the Lion's Head came in him- 
 self, with a servant bearing a large loving-cup 
 of silver. The good man was flushed and 
 obsequious and plainly out of sorts, keeping a 
 weather eye on Lord Spencer. 
 
 170
 
 
 My Lord Savile reaps his Reward 
 
 "Will your ladyship be pleased to try this 
 hypocras ? " he said, bowing low ; " 't is of my 
 own brewing and I '11 warrant it the finest in 
 the county--! had the rule from the keeper 
 of Man's," and he rubbed his fat hands together 
 unctuously. 
 
 Lady Dacres tasted first and rolled her eyes 
 up. 
 
 "Ambrosia!" she said, " oh, la I mean 
 nectar, don't I, Lord Spencer?" and she 
 tittered like a girl of sixteen. 
 
 Dr. Radcliffe drank some deliberately. 
 
 " Better than the brandy you sent us this 
 afternoon," he remarked, with a twinkle in 
 his eye. 
 
 The man grew crimson. " 'T is for a better 
 purpose," he stammered. 
 
 The great physician raised his eyebrows. 
 
 " Chut ! that 's a strange notion," he said 
 bluntly; "it is not a good purpose, then, to 
 save life ? " 
 
 The innkeeper worked his hands nervously. 
 
 :t I 've heard strange things since, your 
 worship," he faltered, his eye on the young 
 nobleman. 
 
 'You harbor strange guests," remarked 
 Spencer sternly, his cold glance transfixing 
 the little man. 
 
 171
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 " I can't always know their antecedents, my 
 lord," said the host, redder than ever, and in 
 an agony of uneasiness. 
 
 " What 's the matter ? " asked Lady Sunder- 
 land, " you look as if you 'd seen a ghost. 
 What in the wide world are you hatching now, 
 Spencer ? " 
 
 " Oh, nothing of importance," he replied 
 coolly ; " the Lion's Head is turning Jacobite, 
 that 's all." 
 
 " Mercy on us ! " ejaculated Lady Sunder- 
 land, with pious horror, "I thought 'twas a 
 noted Whig house and the king still in New- 
 market, too." 
 
 " Indeed, madam your ladyship, I do pro- 
 test," put in the landlord. 
 
 " Tut, tut ! " said Dr. RadclifFe, waving him 
 aside, " we '11 excuse you. A dead Jacobite 's 
 no great matter." 
 
 " A dead Jacobite ? " screamed Lady Dacres 
 shrilly; "you make me faint! Here man, an- 
 other glass of what-d'-ye-call-it ? hypocrite ? " 
 and she drank it with a sigh, fanning herself. 
 
 Spencer frowned, rising and walking to the 
 window, and apparently looking out into the 
 black night beyond. The landlord, taking ad- 
 vantage of his opportunity, slid out of the 
 door with alacrity. 
 
 172
 
 My Lord Savile reaps his Reward 
 
 " There has been a duel, madam," explained 
 Radcliffe, shuffling the cards, "in the long 
 meadow and the provost-marshal may look 
 into it later." 
 
 " Dear, dear," simpered Lady Sunderland, 
 looking over her cards, " was any one killed ? 
 I'll raise the wager to nine shillings oh, la 
 the doctor has a mourneval ! " she added, 
 aside to Lady Dacres. 
 
 "A young Irishman, Trevor, was desper- 
 ately wounded," replied Radcliffe ; " a splendid 
 swordsman, but his blade broke." 
 
 " What! " exclaimed Lady Sunderland, "that 
 charming young man ? " she shook her head 
 mournfully ; " his legs were beautifully sym- 
 metrical." 
 
 " Did he lose one ? " tittered Lady Dacres, 
 clutching at her cards with greedy fingers ; " you 
 said nine shillings more ? " 
 
 Lady Sunderland nodded ; she held three 
 kings and hoped to win. " The doctor has 
 Tiddy and Towser both," she whispered be- 
 hind her fan. 
 
 At the moment, Betty came into the room. 
 Her face was pale but she showed no signs of 
 the tempest. 
 
 " He had an ugly wound, madam," Dr. Rad- 
 cliffe said, playing a card leisurely ; " his chances
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 of life amount to that," the physician made a 
 significant gesture. 
 
 " Dear me, Betty, come here and listen to 
 this awful tale," said Lady Sunderland ; " your 
 friend, Mr. Trevor, killed oh, by the way, 
 who did it, doctor ? " 
 
 Lord Spencer had turned from the window. 
 
 " Savile," he answered coldly, " and he did 
 well. It seems he suspected him thought 
 him a disguised Jacobite and has called him out 
 twice to kill him this time he has probably 
 done it. And now it is rumored that the 
 fellow is one of those excepted in the late act 
 of Parliament. The country is flooded with 
 these rascals, constantly menacing its safety and 
 the king's life." 
 
 " How romantic," sighed Lady Sunderland, 
 throwing her cards ; " there," she crowed, 
 "three kings Meg, I've got you!" 
 
 Lady Dacres replied by tossing her cards on 
 the table with a scream of triumph. 
 
 " Oh, confound it ! " cried Lady Sunderland 
 furiously; " the hussy has a gleek of aces ! 
 You're an old cheat, Meg!" 
 
 Lady Dacres laughed immoderately, gather- 
 ing in the coin with eager ringers. The other 
 old gambler eyed her with fury, her headdress 
 quivering. Dr. RadclifFe, who knew it was the
 
 My Lord Savile reaps his Reward 
 
 fashion to fleece the men at table, looked on in- 
 differently, keeping up his talk with Spencer. 
 
 " I cannot see why Savile had to kill him for 
 a Jacobite," he remarked, deliberately taking 
 snuff from an elaborate box with the arms of 
 the Princess of Denmark on it ; " the provost- 
 marshal can see to them. We all know that 
 the Habeas Corpus Act is suspended on account 
 of the plots against the king's life. Savile's 
 motive must have been more human than that, 
 my lord." 
 
 Spencer shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "He was doing a high duty, sir," he replied 
 pompously, " he was ridding his country of a 
 traitor. Savile 's a fine fellow." 
 
 " He 's a murderer ! " said Betty sharply. 
 
 She stood with her hand on the back of her 
 mother's chair and her tall figure seemed to 
 tower. The doctor gave her a shrewd glance. 
 
 "You love heroics, Elizabeth," her brother 
 replied with a drawl, but his face turned white 
 a danger signal. 
 
 Betty did not look at him ; she fixed her 
 eyes on the doctor. 
 
 " Will he die ? " she asked, and her voice 
 was perfectly controlled. 
 
 Radcliffe was thoughtful and did not answer 
 for a moment. 
 
 i7S
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 "There is one chance in a thousand," he 
 said, " there would have been more, but this po- 
 litical stir and hubbub has compelled them to 
 spirit him away, and a journey " he shrugged 
 his shoulders ; " I should say six feet of earth, 
 madam, would end it." 
 
 She drew her breath sharply ; to her all the 
 candles in the room seemed to be revolving in 
 a death-dance. 
 
 " He ought to die," said Spencer piously, 
 " a Jacobite and a renegade. By Saint Thomas, 
 we 're well rid of him ! " 
 
 " La, how romantic it is ! " Lady Sunder- 
 land said, shuffling her cards and glaring at 
 her simpering rival. 
 
 Betty walked past them and out into the 
 anteroom, where she met Lord Savile leaning 
 on Mr. Benham's arm. His neck was bound 
 up and swathed in lace, and one arm was in a 
 sling. He bowed low with a white face and 
 languishing eyes. 
 
 " Here 's a brave fellow half killed for love 
 of you, my lady," said Mr. Benham, with gal- 
 lantry. 
 
 Betty halted ; tall and straight as an arrow, 
 her eyes sparkling. No one anticipated the 
 lightning. 
 
 Savile smiled. " Dear Lady Clancarty," he 
 176
 
 My Lord Savile reaps his Reward 
 
 said, in a weak voice, " I am your humblest 
 servant." 
 
 " You are a murderer, sir," she replied, in a 
 terrible tone; "let me never see your face 
 again." 
 
 And she swept on and left them standing 
 there in blank amazement. 
 
 In her own room she fell on Alice's neck in 
 a passion of tears. 
 
 " O Alice, Alice ! " she cried, " I have driven 
 him to his death." 
 
 And Alice who had heard all that even- 
 ing, in the agony of her ladyship's first grief 
 and terror Alice clasped her close, forgetting 
 the great distance between them and remember- 
 ing only her devotion to this beautiful and 
 wilful creature. 
 
 " I did not know you cared so much," she 
 said, " I never thought that he might be Lord 
 Clancarty." 
 
 " Ah, I felt it from the first, Alice," Lady 
 Betty said ; " there was something in his bear- 
 ing toward me his tone I knew he was 
 my husband, I felt it ! " 
 
 " And yet and yet my lady, you sent 
 him away ! " the girl murmured, in a tone of 
 wonder. 
 
 12 I77
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 Betty's head dropped. " Yes, he has gone ! " 
 she said, "gone my own true love and 
 desperately wounded, too ! " 
 
 " Yes, gone," said Alice, venturing on a 
 tearful remonstrance ; " I can't understand you, 
 my lady, I can't indeed ! One moment, you 
 are all tenderness for the poor gentleman, the 
 next, you are driving him into exile with your 
 coldness." 
 
 " Exile ? Oh, no, no ! " cried Lady Betty 
 passionately, " he shall not go without me. I 
 love him, my girl, I love him can't you 
 understand ? 'T was that which made me feel 
 so feel that he only claimed me, did not woo 
 me. You are as dull as any man, Alice," she 
 walked to and fro, beating her hands together, 
 "my love, my poor love!" she sighed and 
 then suddenly her mood changed, she raised 
 her head resolutely. 
 
 " My hood and cloak, Alice," she said 
 quickly, " and my vizard." 
 
 " Madam, 't is very late," remonstrated the 
 girl. 
 
 Betty stamped her foot. " I am your mis- 
 tress," she said, "obey me you forget your 
 
 i > 
 place. 
 
 " Nay, my lady," said Alice sadly, " I do not 
 forget but I love you ! " 
 178
 
 My Lord Savile reaps his Reward 
 
 Her generous-hearted mistress repented in 
 a moment. 
 
 " Forgive me," she said gently, " I know it, 
 Alice, but I cannot be advised I must find 
 him." She stopped, her face white under the 
 hood that the girl was adjusting: "O Alice, 
 he may be dying ! " 
 
 179
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 LADY BETTY'S SEARCH 
 
 THOUGH the stars were out, the 
 night was black as pitch and the 
 courtyard of the inn was only lighted 
 by the broad bands of red that flared across it 
 from the gaping doors of hall and kitchen, 
 serving to make the surrounding darkness 
 more palpable. So it was that Lady Betty and 
 Alice cloaked and hooded nearly stumbled 
 against young Mackie, and would not have 
 known him but for his exclamation of impa- 
 tience. He took them for kitchen wenches, 
 and when Lady Betty cried out his name, he 
 stopped short with a gasp of sheer amazement. 
 
 " Oh, Sir Edward, 't was you of all men 
 I wanted to see ! " she cried. 
 
 Poor Mackie, if he could have taken her at 
 her word ! But, alas, her tone belied her 
 words and his heart sank drearily. 
 
 " You here, my lady ! " he exclaimed, " what 
 has happened ? I am at your service ; I pray 
 you " 
 
 1 80
 
 But she cut him short. 
 
 " Where is he ? " she whispered. 
 
 She mentioned no name, but the young man 
 understood. 
 
 " His servant removed him two hours ago, 
 Lady Clancarty," he replied quietly, fc whither, 
 I know not. The man, a wild Irish clown, 
 would not trust me, though, 'pon my honor, I 
 meant to serve Mr. Trevor," his voice fal- 
 tered so at the name that she was again assured 
 that he had divined their secret and a weight 
 slipped from her heart. 
 
 " Was he dying ? " she asked very low, but 
 the tremor in her voice thrilled her listener. 
 
 " I do not know," he stammered, " I pray 
 not, my lady, for he is a brave man." 
 
 She laid her hand on his arm. 
 
 " Thank you," she said simply, " he is my 
 husband." 
 
 Young Mackie bent his head and kissed her 
 fingers reverently. 
 
 " He also trusted me, madam," he said, and 
 she did not see the pain in the boy's eyes ; " I 
 shall endeavor to deserve it." 
 
 But Betty was not thinking of him. 
 
 " I must find him," she said shivering, " I 
 must find him ! " and a sob choked her voice. 
 
 Young Mackie was silent. From the kitchen 
 181
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 came the hubbub of voices, the clatter of dishes ; 
 while, looking over Betty's shoulder, he saw 
 Spencer and Savile cross the main hall, arm in 
 arm, their heads together. Sir Edward knew 
 well enough that Savile had tried to kill Clan- 
 carty and he set his teeth, for he saw her cloaked 
 figure sway and quiver in the passion of emo- 
 tion that shook her. He was a generous fellow 
 and he forgot himself. 
 
 " I will try to find him, my lady," he said 
 in a low tone, glancing cautiously at the hall 
 door, " he can't be very far away, he could not 
 travel ; that man has hidden him somewhere 
 because of the stir made by the duel I think 
 his identity was very near discovery." 
 
 " I know it," she said, " but how to find 
 him oh, Sir Edward, I must do it! He 
 he may be in need of a surgeon of care of 
 everything ! " she broke off wildly, and then, 
 " Come, Alice, we must go on." 
 
 But he detained her. " Whither, madam ? " 
 he asked gravely, " not in a vain search at 
 night for for him ? " 
 
 She drew herself up proudly. " Do you 
 think I will let my husband die thus? and 
 stir no finger to help him ? " she asked bitterly. 
 
 " Then you will let me go with you," he 
 said quietly, taking his place beside her. 
 
 182
 
 Lady Betty s Search 
 
 She hesitated and quickly assented. " If you 
 will," she replied, " since it is late and we are 
 only two women but we must make haste," 
 and she ran down the old stone steps into the 
 garden, taking the very path she had walked 
 with Clancarty. Mackie and Alice followed 
 her silently, though both were convinced of 
 the fruitlessness of such an errand at such an 
 hour. 
 
 But the night had worn on many hours 
 more and the moon had risen before Betty 
 acknowledged that her quest was vain. Mean- 
 while, young Mackie had patiently searched in 
 every tavern and inn in Newmarket; he had 
 invaded all the alleys and byways, all the nooks 
 and corners, and inquired of grooms and 
 porters and stable-men but to no purpose. 
 Denis had covered his retreat with more skill 
 than Sir Edward had looked for. If the truth 
 be told, the Irishman was no new hand at the 
 business and he understood it well, having fol- 
 lowed Lord Clancarty in his adventurous life, 
 from Dublin, and later in a wild career on the 
 Continent when the gay young nobleman had 
 kept pace with his fellow exiles of high birth 
 and slim purses, but unlimited daring. It was 
 not the first duel nor the first cause for flight, 
 and Denis had spirited the wounded man away 
 183
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 and left no sign. Even Betty, determined and 
 vigilant as she was, was forced to acknowledge 
 herself defeated, and she walked drearily back 
 to the Lion's Head with an aching heart. He 
 believed her indifferent to him would he 
 ever send her a message or a token again ? 
 Never ; she was sure of it, and she bowed her 
 head in dejection Lady Betty, who was never 
 crestfallen. She and Alice crept in, at last, by 
 the garden way and fled to her apartments in 
 no little trepidation, but they fancied themselves 
 safe when they found that Lady Sunderland 
 had gone to bed, to get her beauty sleep, and 
 the woman, Melissa, slept in her room that 
 night, in the absence of the countess' own 
 attendant. 
 
 Lady Betty did not sleep nor did she open 
 her heart to the faithful girl who was nearly as 
 grieved as she was to see her trouble. She 
 knelt for hours by the window looking out 
 over the moonlit garden where the shadows 
 were black between the hedgerows. It was a 
 night of agony ; to know that he might be 
 dying dying with hard thoughts of her in- 
 difference almost within reach of her and yet 
 so far. She was his wife, she thought with 
 sharp pain, and yet he could not send her 
 word and she did not deserve it. He was 
 
 184
 
 Lady Betty s Search 
 
 dying, because Savile had been determined to 
 kill him : he had divined the secret, he was 
 resolved to remove her husband. Betty saw 
 it all ; she had wrung some admissions from 
 Mackie, the rest she knew by intuition. 
 
 She had a high spirit all her life she had 
 had her way at last, in spite of her heartless, 
 frivolous mother and her selfish, brilliant 
 father, and this was a trial hard to bear. 
 Clancarty was the first man who had not done 
 her homage, who met her on her own ground 
 and demanded that she should love him. 
 Perhaps it was that which won her ; howbeit, 
 her eyes were dim with tears as she looked out 
 of the window and looked, indeed, until the 
 sun rose on another day.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW 
 
 IT was a small and desolate room, with bare 
 rafters overhead, and the wind rattling 
 fiercely at the old casements, while Denis 
 was trying to keep a sickly fire of green wood 
 alive upon the hearth. The floor was of 
 stone, cold and bare, save for a few rushes 
 strewn beside the truckle bed, and there was 
 no light but that from the sputtering logs and 
 one poor taper ; there were only two chairs 
 and one small table in the room beside the 
 bed, but all was scrupulously clean, though 
 barren and chilly beyond description. 
 
 And on the bed lay Lord Clancarty, his 
 cheeks flushed with fever, his hair dishevelled, 
 his eyes shining, and his hands ever and anon 
 clutching at the coverlet fiercely whenever 
 any chance movement gave him pain. 
 
 If the aspect of the place was poor, it was 
 also desolately lonely ; no sound reached their 
 ears but the rustling of the wind in the tree 
 
 186
 
 'The Valley of the Shadow 
 
 tops without and the creaking of the old build- 
 ing itself. It was an old farmhouse, the 
 dwelling of the widow of a Jacobite for 
 England was honey-combed with conspiracies 
 and counter-conspiracies and this woman, a 
 rigid believer in the old order of things, had the 
 courage to take the wounded nobleman under 
 her roof; she could give him shelter, but as 
 for comforts she had none to give. Here, 
 too, with her connivance, Denis smuggled 
 a young surgeon, one of the faithful, to tend 
 the wound that the famous Radcliffe had 
 dressed with his own hands on the field. 
 The young practitioner shared the doubts of 
 his senior, and shook his head gravely ; the 
 wounded man might live, but he was quite as 
 likely to die. So, with these gloomy pre- 
 dictions, and the still more gloomy aid of the 
 solemn visaged widow, Denis was left with 
 almost an empty purse to guard and nurse the 
 feverish patient. 
 
 Stricken with profound anxieties, the faith- 
 ful Irishman fed the fire, kneeling before it, 
 his back toward his master, to hide a face that 
 betrayed his feelings too plainly. On the table 
 lay Lord Clancarty's cloak and plumed hat 
 and the hilt of the sword that had served him 
 so ill and there, too, was his pistol primed and 
 187
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 ready for use. He lay watching Denis, fever 
 flushed but in his senses, though more than 
 once that night his mind had wandered. 
 
 The stillness of the place was broken by the 
 stamping of a horse's feet at no great dis- 
 tance . 
 
 " What is that ? " the wounded man asked 
 sharply. 
 
 " Our horses, sir," replied Denis, still kneel- 
 ing at the hearth ; " they're in the shed out- 
 side, me lord, an' indade 't is fitter fer thim 
 than fer yer lordship here." 
 
 Clancarty smiled sadly. " It matters little, 
 Denis, and is like to matter less. How far 
 are we from Newmarket ? " 
 
 " Not far, sir, this house stands off th' road 
 ter Bishop-Stortford, a half mile loike from the 
 road, in a patch of timber ; a very pretty 
 hiding-place I 've hed me eye on it fer a 
 couple of wakes." 
 
 " You thought I would come to this, then ? 
 Ah, Denis, I fear you know me too well, old 
 rogue ! " 
 
 " Indade, sir, I Ve known ye from a boy 
 in Munster, an' I nivir knew ye to take care 
 of yerself. Faix, it 's a broken head ye '11 
 be afther havin' more often thin a whole 
 wan." 
 
 188
 
 The Valley of the Shadow 
 
 Clancarty laughed softly, his feverish eyes 
 on the fire. 
 
 " Denis," he said dreamily, " do you re- 
 member the wild rides over the green fields 
 of Ireland ? " 
 
 Denis bent low over the hearth fanning the 
 blaze, fighting the damp and the green wood. 
 
 " I 'm afther remimbering, yer lordship," he 
 replied hoarsely. 
 
 " It 's a long way back to those days," said 
 Lord Clancarty ; " the skies were blue then. 
 I 'm a poor devil now, Denis, and like to 
 die " his voice died away, more from faint- 
 ness than emotion, and after awhile he asked 
 for water. 
 
 Denis rose and gave it to him, lifting his 
 head as gently as a woman, and as he took the 
 glass from the wounded man's lips he turned 
 his own head away but not soon enough, a 
 hot tear fell on the earl's forehead. 
 
 " Saint Patrick, Denis, I must be far gone 
 when you weep ! " Clancarty said, touched in 
 spite of himself, " I did not know you could, 
 you old heart of oak ! " 
 
 Denis brushed the moisture from his eyes. 
 
 " I remimber an ould man in County Kerry, 
 me lord, who nivir shid a tear until his wife was 
 coming out of a fit, and thin he took on loike 
 189
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 army wild gossoon. He 'd bin gifting ready 
 fer a wake an' hed ter give it all up, and whin 
 his neighbors accused him of it, he said he 
 nivir wept unless a person was gitting well, 
 an' thin he wept fer joy 'tis so with me, 
 me lord." 
 
 Lord Clancarty smiled, turning his face to 
 the wall. He was deeply touched at the 
 simple fellow's devotion. There was silence 
 for awhile ; the fire crackled and leaped up the 
 chimney, lighting up the room just in time, for 
 the single taper sputtered and went out. 
 
 It was at this time that Lady Clancarty 
 and Sir Edward were searching the streets of 
 Newmarket. 
 
 Lord Clancarty turned his head wearily and 
 looking down at his own hand remembered. 
 
 " Denis," he said in a low tone, " did you 
 give the ring and the message to my lady ? " 
 
 Denis had his back to him again, his square 
 sturdy outline between him and the blaze. 
 
 " Yes, me lord," he answered stolidly. 
 
 " And she ? " the fever burned on Clan- 
 carty 's cheeks, his eyes shone ; " how did she 
 take it?" 
 
 " Very quiet loike, me lord," replied Denis 
 bluntly, <f she wanted to know what hed hap- 
 pened, but I dared not tell her ladyship." 
 190
 
 The Valley of the Shadow 
 
 "She inquired, though? she was anxious?" 
 asked the earl eagerly. 
 
 Denis was stubborn. " Me lord, she asked 
 what hed happened nothing more. She's a 
 great lady, sir, and as proud as anny quane." 
 
 The wounded lover sighed and turned again 
 to the wall : here was no consolation, and in 
 his bitterness he called her heartless. The 
 desolate place, his almost exhausted resources, 
 his painful wound, all combined to shake even 
 his proud resolution ; he was lonely and he was 
 desperate. In his fevered brain rose many 
 visions of Betty, the beautiful, the careless, 
 charming Betty that he had known. What 
 heart there was beneath that beautiful exterior 
 he did not know ; but this he knew he was 
 an outcast from home and friends, a desperate 
 and forsaken man and dangerously wounded. 
 He was no novice in affairs of this kind and 
 knew well the nature of his hurt and what lack 
 of care would do for it. His life passed in 
 quick review before him ; its ambitions, its 
 wild adventures, its dark spots of reckless dis- 
 sipations, and now this end this wretched, 
 thwarted, forsaken end creeping away like a 
 wounded beast to die alone. It might well 
 bring bitterness to so proud and daring a spirit 
 as his. He cursed his fate, but it is to be feared 
 191
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 that he did not pray. His religion had been a 
 matter of convenience, like the religion of many 
 gay young soldiers of his time. It failed him 
 now and she failed him too, the woman who 
 had taken such possession of his heart and 
 swept him out of the common way into a 
 higher passion. He loved her and she de- 
 spised him. He groaned sharply as if in 
 bodily pain; the faithful Irishman was at his 
 side in a moment, but he waved him away. 
 His soul was wrestling with despair and with 
 hunger for the sight of her. He, a strong 
 man and a proud one, in that hour of physical 
 agony and loneliness, longed to see her, to hear 
 her voice before he died if die he must, yet 
 be would have died rather than send for her 
 such was his pride. 
 
 The night wore on ; the horses stamping 
 restlessly in the shed, the wind increasing in 
 violence until the old house creaked, quiver- 
 ing like a broken reed. Denis sat staring at 
 the fire, his honest face distorted with grief and 
 now and then a slow tear creeping down his 
 furrowed cheek. The wound was a desperate 
 one, and counting all the things against the 
 patient, exposure, lack of nursing and food 
 and comforts, the man did not believe he would 
 live, and he loved him like a son ; he had car- 
 
 192
 
 The Valley of the Shadow 
 
 ried him on his shoulder as a baby ; he had 
 taught the little lad to sit his horse and use his 
 sword, and he had followed him in Ireland, in 
 France, in Flanders, through weal and woe 
 to this ! Poor Denis, he too had his night of 
 tears and lamentations. 
 
 Toward midnight Clancarty's mind wan- 
 dered a little and he babbled like a child of 
 the green turf of Ireland and the streams 
 where he had paddled barefoot, and of the 
 wild birds overhead. He talked of battles 
 and sieges and at last of her, of Betty, and 
 Denis cursed her in his heart as their evil 
 angel, the lodestar that had drawn the young 
 earl to his fate. Now and then through the 
 night the wounded man called for water, but 
 toward morning he fell asleep, and Denis 
 dropped on his knees, praying to all the 
 saints to send healing on the wings of that fitful 
 slumber. 
 
 But with the night the delirium and the 
 weakness of spirit passed together. At day- 
 break the earl opened his eyes and looked 
 quietly into Denis's worn face. He smiled, 
 the old reckless smile, if somewhat weaker and 
 paler than usual. He groped feebly under 
 his pillow and handed the man his purse. 
 
 "A small store, Denis," he said, " but 'tis 
 '3 193
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 yours now, to do with as you can. If I die 
 ah, you must even bury me here, I suppose, 
 though I long for Irish soil to cover me ! 
 For the rest go home, Denis, take no risks 
 for my sake. Faith, a dead man will not need 
 you." 
 
 Denis said nothing, he could not; he stood 
 staring at the floor. 
 
 Lord Clancarty laughed a little bitterly. 
 
 " Go tend the horses, man," he said; " you 
 saw Neerwinden why do you stand there 
 like a woman ? Death comes but once." 
 
 " Ah, my lord," said Denis, and the tears 
 ran down his cheeks, " ye shall not die." 
 
 Clancarty turned his face to the wall lest he, 
 too, should show weakness. 
 
 " My dark Rosaleen, 
 My fond Rosaleen ! 
 Would give me life and soul anew, 
 A second life, a soul anew ! 
 My dark Rosaleen! " 
 
 he murmured faintly, 
 
 " My own Rosaleen! " 
 
 So Denis went to tend the horses, drawing 
 his sleeve across his eyes and hating Lady 
 Clancarty from the bottom of his simple 
 devoted heart. 
 
 '94
 
 The Valley of the Shadow 
 
 " The foine lady," he muttered ; " faix I 'd 
 loike ter make her shid a tear or two fer all 
 her bright eyes an' her red cheeks th' heart- 
 less colleen ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 "UNTIL DEATH us DO PART" 
 
 IT was nearly a week later and Lady 
 Betty's chair was passing down the main 
 street of Newmarket when she espied 
 Denis at the corner of a lane that ran between 
 a mercer's shop and Drake's. She stopped 
 her chair, and springing from it ran after him, 
 ran quite regardless of the people in the 
 street who stood gaping at the charming young 
 woman running after a groom. She overtook 
 him at the end of the lane ; they were behind 
 the mercer's shop, and Denis started at the sight 
 of her and stood irresolute, eying her grimly. 
 She snatched the vizard from her face. 
 
 " Where is your master ? " she demanded 
 breathlessly, " where is Lord Clancarty ? " 
 
 The Irishman shut his lips stubbornly ; he 
 did not trust the daughter of Lord Sunderland. 
 
 " Will you not tell me ? " cried Betty, in 
 distress, "I know that he is wounded I 
 must see him ! I will not be denied ! I com- 
 196
 
 " Until Death us do Part " 
 
 mand you nay," she added, reading his 
 inflexible face, "I beg and pray you, give 
 me news of him ! " 
 
 Denis eyed her closely, relenting just a little, 
 and that little was enough. 
 
 " He's very ill," he said sullenly. 
 
 " Is he in danger ? " cried Lady Clancarty, 
 tears gathering in her eyes, " tell me, man, tell 
 me," and she wrung her hands. " Can't gold 
 tempt you ? Take me to him ! " 
 
 Denis made a strange motion ; it seemed as 
 if he would snatch her purse and then forbore 
 to do it, but his eyes devoured it. 
 
 " Faix, I don't know av I can thrust ye," 
 he said, looking at *her keenly ; " ye 've done 
 him harm enough already." 
 
 " But I trust you ! " cried Lady Betty, " I 
 am your master's wife, take me to him. 
 See, I will go with you alone can't you 
 trust me now ? " 
 
 The man looked down yet a little while, in 
 evident hesitation, and she watched him, 
 trembling, not with fear, like another woman, 
 but with hope. 
 
 " Faix, I '11 take ye," he said bluntly, " if 
 ye '11 go alone. Look ye, me lady, if ye be- 
 thray him, I 'd as lief kill ye as not. I love 
 me lord ! " 
 
 197
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 The color rose in Betty's face, softly, sweetly, 
 her eyes shone. 
 
 " And so do I ! " she said ; " lead on, I will 
 follow and alone." 
 
 " Come, thin," he said at last, " 't is a long 
 way an' the place is n't fit fer a foine lady, but 
 he's there tho', by the Virgin, I don't 
 know what he '11 say ter me fer bringing ye ! " 
 
 As he spoke he cast a glance back at the 
 chair and its bearers waiting at the mouth of 
 the lane, the men staring after their mistress, 
 and with them a knot of idlers who had gathered 
 to watch the countess. Lady Clancarty turned 
 her back upon them. 
 
 " Lead on ! " she commanded, impatient 
 and imperious. 
 
 Denis led the way down the narrow lane, 
 out of sight of the group at the mercer's shop, 
 and into another byway, and so on through 
 the outskirts of Newmarket. He did not 
 take the public road but struck across the 
 fields, passing close to the spot where Lord 
 Clancarty had fought the duel. Lady Betty 
 shuddered as they approached it. They were 
 out of sight of the last straggling houses now, 
 crossing the meadows ; the sun shone as it had 
 upon that day when she had walked first with 
 Clancarty, but there was more of a touch of 
 
 198
 
 Until Death us do Part r 
 
 autumn upon the scene. Here, beyond the 
 light green turf, was a field of stubble, and 
 there, in the green hedgerow, were yellow 
 leaves ; and the stream, too, that flowed across 
 the meadows, had brown depths and shadows 
 where the pebbles lay thickest, and the purple 
 distance took on gray. 
 
 They had left the open and were skirting a 
 little woodland where the dry leaves rustled 
 overhead, and once she heard the "kourre, 
 kourre ! " of the pigeons. 
 
 Whither was he going? Lady Betty won- 
 dered. The place grew more and more 
 solitary ; they followed a path, but one so 
 little used that briars fell across it and one of 
 them tore her frock : but she went on fear- 
 lessly, for never did a braver heart throb in a 
 woman's bosom. Her spirit was intrepid. 
 She looked about her through the sparsely 
 growing trees and saw long distances without 
 a sign of life or habitation, and still Denis 
 plodded on and she followed, pity and love 
 and remorse growing in her heart at every 
 step. Her lover and her husband in poverty 
 and obscurity, a proscribed rebel, and she rich. 
 Nothing could have appealed so to her full 
 heart. The thought stung her and the tears 
 gathered on her dark lashes. 
 199
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 As Denis had predicted, the walk was a long 
 one, but she did not heed it, she kept steadily 
 on behind him; and at last, through an open- 
 ing in the trees, she saw two horses grazing in 
 a little strip of greensward, and beyond, the 
 lonely farmhouse. As her guide turned to- 
 wards it Betty caught her breath and stood still 
 for a single moment the place was so 
 poor, so dark, so uninviting, and the vicinity 
 of Newmarket swarmed with banditti ; even 
 when the king's coach took the road it had to 
 be strongly guarded. This old, weather-stained 
 brown house, with half its window shutters 
 broken, the green moss on its slanting gables, 
 and the strong, iron-bound door, with the 
 broken stone before it, was sad and forbidding 
 enough without the silence and the woodland 
 shadows that enfolded it. Betty stood and 
 stared at it apprehensively, and then she thought 
 of Clancarty. Her hesitation was so soon over 
 that the man, her guide, was scarcely aware of 
 it. He went on steadily, hearing her light 
 step rustling on the fallen leaves behind him, 
 and at last he stopped at the door and waited. 
 
 " Is he here ? " she whispered. 
 
 Denis nodded, opening the door and guiding 
 her into the kitchen where the widow, Clan- 
 carty's hostess and nurse, stood before the 
 
 200
 
 " Until Death us do Part" 
 
 hearth stirring a stew in a great pot that was 
 suspended on a hook over blazing logs. At 
 the sound of their entrance she turned sharply 
 and stared at Lady Clancarty in grim amaze- 
 ment, not uttering a word. Her stern, sad 
 face and suspicious eye sent the hot blood up 
 under her ladyship's vizard, but even this, 
 though it embarrassed her, could not hold 
 her back. She stood an instant, though, in the 
 centre of the bare kitchen, in her gay fur- 
 belows, holding up her skirts with one hand 
 while the other involuntarily adjusted her 
 mask. Meanwhile, the widow continued to 
 eye her sternly, even while she stirred the 
 broth. 
 
 Denis was quick enough to perceive the 
 difficulty. 
 
 " 'T is Lady Clancarty," he said bluntly to 
 the woman, indicating Lady Betty's lovely 
 figure with a backward sweep of the hand. 
 
 Clancarty's hostess courtesied profoundly, but 
 the fair intruder felt that those stern eyes said 
 plainly, " A likely story, the brazen hussy ! " 
 
 " I have come to see my husband," Betty 
 faltered, her voice trembling a little. 
 
 "Very well, ma'am," retorted the widow 
 grimly, and turning her back deliberately, she 
 began to flourish the huge spoon again. 
 
 2OI
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 The poor young wife, meanwhile, fled after 
 Denis across the kitchen, her heart beating 
 wildly. He was waiting in the entry and led 
 her down the hall to the opposite side of the 
 house, before he finally halted at a closed door 
 and waited. At a sign from her he let her 
 enter alone. The place was poorly lighted by 
 small windows, and as she entered and heard 
 the door close behind her, her heart stood still. 
 And then 
 
 Poor Betty, her tears blinded her; she for- 
 got the suspicious widow. The room was so 
 poor, so bare, so wretched ; the low, dark 
 rafters, the stone floor, the miserable furniture. 
 And stretched on the bed lay her husband, white 
 as death ; his head turned so that he could not 
 see her, but she saw him, saw the pallor, the 
 wasted cheek, the helpless figure. She did not 
 move and he had not heard her enter, he 
 seemed to be sleeping. She took off her mask 
 and stood waiting. What would he say ? For 
 the first time her courage failed her, her knees 
 trembled under her. Would he hate her, and 
 despise her for coming? She stirred and he 
 heard the rustle and looked up. In a moment 
 it seemed as if the sun had risen and shone 
 full upon his face : it was glorified, but still 
 she did not go nearer to him. 
 
 202
 
 " Until Death us do Part ' 
 
 " Ah," he said, " I see it is but a dream ! 
 It has mocked me before. My fever must 
 be upon me again, but, oh, sweet vision, 
 stay with me this time, else I perish here of 
 despair." 
 
 " Can you forgive me ? " she sobbed, run- 
 ning to him and falling on her knees beside the 
 bed, " oh, I have suffered too, the wound that 
 hurt you pierced me also to the heart ! For- 
 give me ! " 
 
 He put his arm around her, drawing her 
 close, with all his feeble strength, and looking 
 at her with hungry eyes. 
 
 " My darling ! " he said tenderly, " 'tis you 
 you in the flesh ? and you came to see 
 me? the beggar, the exile, the traitor " 
 
 " Don't, don't ! " cried Betty, in a passion 
 of grief, " I never meant it it was my tongue, 
 my reckless, wicked tongue oh, my lord, 
 forgive me ! " 
 
 He smiled ; he was so weak that tears 
 gathered in his eyes. 
 
 " What have I to forgive, { my own Rosa- 
 leen ' ? " he asked tenderly ; " I am not worthy 
 of you I am, indeed, an exile and a vagrant, 
 my queen, and no mate for you." 
 
 " You are my husband," Betty said, blushing 
 divinely. 
 
 203
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 "Betty," he whispered soft and low, "you 
 have never kissed me ! " 
 
 " I have never kissed any man, my Lord 
 Clancarty," she replied softly, her face radiant, 
 " I will never kiss any man but the one I 
 love best ! " 
 
 He looked at her silently, his eyes glowing, 
 holding her closer. 
 
 " Betty," he murmured, " do you love me ? 
 your husband ? " 
 
 Betty did not reply in words. She put her 
 arms around his neck and kissed him ten- 
 derly, laying her soft cheek against his with a 
 sob. 
 
 "My darling," he said, after a pause, " it is 
 too much to ask you to leave all and follow 
 me too much. I am only a beggar, Betty, 
 and an outcast ! " 
 
 She looked up into his eyes and he thought 
 her face had never been so beautiful. 
 
 " My husband," she said. 
 
 His tears wet her cheek as he kissed her 
 again and again. 
 
 " My best beloved," he said, " f my own 
 Rosaleen ' ! * Until death us do part,' do you 
 remember ? The bond was made in heaven, 
 Betty ! " 
 
 She smiled through her tears. 
 204
 
 Until Death us do Part ' : 
 
 " I love you," she murmured, " and shall 
 forever and forever." 
 
 " Will you leave all, Betty ? " he asked 
 longingly, " all, and follow me into exile and 
 poverty ? " 
 
 " Unto the ends of the earth, my lord and 
 master," she answered smiling, the old Betty 
 suddenly peeping out at him from her dark eyes; 
 " if I have you I have all ! " she whispered. 
 
 Warm hearted, impulsive, careless Lady 
 Betty was not one to give her heart unless she 
 gave it royally. 
 
 After a moment she raised her face, rosy and 
 tear-stained, but smiling. 
 
 " Did you know me at first ? " she asked, 
 " in the woods at Althorpe ? Did you divine 
 who I was ? " 
 
 He laughed softly, taking her face between 
 his hands and holding it fondly, framed thus, 
 so she could not hide it from him. 
 
 " Did I know the sun when it shone ? " he 
 asked. "Ah, my little witch, I knew you! I 
 had been watching you for two days and more, 
 whenever I could catch a glimpse of you. Did 
 you know me, madam ? " 
 
 She smiled adorably and tried to hide her 
 blushes in his hands. 
 
 " I felt it," she whispered, " I think I knew 
 205
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 you by intuition from that first moment 
 but afterwards " 
 
 " But afterwards ? " he asked relentlessly. 
 
 She laughed, her eyes shining. "You tried 
 to deceive me," she said, " in the garden you 
 remember? for a little while, I thought you 
 could n't be you, and " her voice trailed off, 
 her face was as scarlet as any poppy. 
 
 cc And ? " he persisted gleefully, holding her 
 still. 
 
 " I thought I thought that I had given 
 my heart to a stranger and I was married 
 and " she broke off, she could not speak for 
 his kisses. 
 
 " Would you have divorced the beggar for 
 me ? " he whispered maliciously. 
 
 <c O Donough ! " she cried, throwing her 
 arms around his neck in the very ecstasy of 
 her joy at her escape from such a dilemma, " O 
 Donough, it would have broken my heart if 
 you had n't been you I " 
 
 Again a silence and then, 
 
 " Why did you put your foot on the sham- 
 rock ? " he whispered. 
 
 She hid her face on his neck. " I wanted 
 it," she confessed, in a smothered tone, " I 
 wanted it to keep ! Where is it ? " 
 
 He drew it from his breast, a withered sprig 
 206
 
 " Until Death us do Part'' 
 
 folded in a piece of paper, and she seized upon 
 it and kissed it. 
 
 " Nay," he said, "that you shall not not 
 even my shamrock shall share your kisses with 
 me ! That is one stolen from me, madam, 
 give me the shamrock." 
 
 " Never ! " she defied him, clasping it to 
 her own bosom, " never 't is mine to wear 
 for your sake." 
 
 His eyes shone. " My Irish beauty," he 
 said, " roisin bheag dubh ! if I may not have 
 the shamrock I must have the kiss back." 
 
 " Why did you treat me so that last night ? " 
 he went on, " you perverse witch, you tor- 
 mentor, you deserve to suffer for flouting 
 your lord and master." 
 
 " That was it," she said, " you came in with 
 the air of a conquering hero ; I thought you 
 would not woo me, that you claimed me too 
 much like a master ; that, perhaps, you did n't 
 love me, but only felt that you were my 
 husband." 
 
 He laughed quietly. "You coquette !" he 
 said fondly, "you knew I loved you you 
 saw it in my eyes, for I know they devoured 
 you you felt it ! " 
 
 Betty hung her head guiltily. " I could not 
 help it," she said, with a little sob, " I loved 
 207
 
 My Lady Clan car ty 
 
 you, and suddenly I thought you knew it, 
 aud were careless of it ! " 
 
 He kissed her hands softly. "You knew I 
 loved you ! " he exclaimed reproachfully. 
 
 She looked up through her tears. " I love 
 to hear you say it," she murmured rapturously. 
 
 After awhile she looked around the misera- 
 ble room. 
 
 " My love," she cried, " can't I take you 
 away from this awful place ? It breaks my 
 heart to have you here ! With that female 
 dragon, too." 
 
 " Nay, grieve not, Betty," he answered 
 smiling, "it shines with you in it. How I 
 shall picture you here in your white and 
 pink gown, with the little hood on your head 
 the house is a palace, dear! It is too good 
 for a poor man now." 
 
 " And you are poor ! " she exclaimed, her 
 tears breaking out afresh, " you are poor and 
 I I have everything ! " 
 
 " Nay," he replied, " I am rich in having 
 you ! " 
 
 But her tears fell. She could not leave him 
 so, she cried, clinging to him ; the thought of 
 that poor place would break her heart ! And 
 it took all his persuasion and caresses to win 
 a smile from her again. 
 208
 
 " Until Death us do Part " 
 
 " And I must go," she said at last, showing 
 an April face, smiles and tears together, " I 
 must go, or else they will miss me, and if 
 Spencer found you here, I know not what he 
 would do ; he hates a Jacobite ! But, oh, 
 my darling, 'twill not be long ere I shall 
 send some token to you, or have some message 
 from you." 
 
 " Not long," he said, his eyes sparkling, " not 
 long, dear Betty ! As soon as I can walk a 
 plague upon this wound as soon as I can 
 move I will come to you ! I can't die now !" 
 
 "Oh, the risk of it! " she cried, but her face 
 shone, and then suddenly, " Donough," she 
 said, " why had you to fight my Lord Savile ? 
 and after all I did to prevent it ! " 
 
 " He insulted me, my love," Clancarty re- 
 plied, "and and, well, dear heart, after that 
 night I thought you might care for him and 
 not for me, and it drove me mad." 
 
 Betty smiled enchantingly. 
 
 "You were jealous," she said, "jealous of 
 me!" 
 
 " I was mad with it, Betty," he declared 
 passionately ; " and here I lie, curse this wound, 
 like a log, and other men are near you, bask 
 in your smiles, kiss your hand ! It drives me 
 to destruction ! " 
 
 14 209
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 And she looking down at him in his weak- 
 ness, thin and fever flushed, she fell upon 
 her knees again beside him, holding her soft 
 cheek against his, and saying only two words 
 softly, sweetly, with adorable tenderness 
 
 " My husband ! " 
 
 Afterwards, in the loneliness of the woodland, 
 Betty pressed a full purse into Denis's unre- 
 luctant hand. 
 
 " Not a word to your lord on your life ! " 
 she charged him ; " but get all he needs and 
 come to me for more and we must move 
 him to some comfortable refuge at once. Mind 
 you, everything he needs and instantly." 
 
 Denis's face widened into a seraphic smile 
 as he pressed the purse fondly. 
 
 " By the Virgin, my lady," he said, " I shall 
 have to be afther telling him a legend faix, 
 he '11 think I 've found an angel of a Jew, yer 
 ladyship ! " 
 
 210
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 MY LORD SPENCER 
 
 IT happened that when Lady Clancarty came 
 back from her visit to the house in the 
 forest, weary and tear-stained but happier 
 and more peaceful, she found herself in trouble. 
 She had been gone a long time and unhappily 
 her absence had been noticed and commented 
 upon. Faithful and devoted as Alice was, she 
 was not quickwitted enough to invent excuses, 
 and was, indeed, thoroughly frightened and 
 distressed by her mistress' absence which she 
 could not help connecting in some way with 
 Lord Clancarty. There had been, in conse- 
 quence, a great hubbub at the Lion's Head, 
 and men were running hither and yon ; while 
 the servants, who had carried her chair, to save 
 themselves from blame had not failed to give 
 a highly colored account of her meeting with a 
 strange man in the lane and her disappearance 
 in his company. When Lady Betty came 
 quietly back through the garden, hoping to 
 211
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 escape to her room unobserved, she met 
 Lord Spencer with his face as white as a sheet 
 and his lids drooped low over his eyes. He 
 stood in the door of the inn that opened upon 
 the court, and his sister came upon him so 
 unexpectedly that she had no time for flight. 
 She knew the signs too well, however, not to 
 be prepared, and her old spirit returned to her 
 stronger than ever, and she held her head high. 
 But Spencer did not intend to open the quarrel 
 there in a public place, his mood was more 
 dangerous. He was quite aware that the ser- 
 vants, and even the landlord, were peeping at 
 them from the kitchen way, and he bowed 
 courteously to his sister and offered her his 
 hand. 
 
 " Permit me, madam, to escort you to our 
 mother," he said so suavely that the culprit 
 shivered. 
 
 " I can go quite well alone, Charles," she re- 
 plied passing him with acareless manner that was 
 scarcely a faithful indication of her mood ; " I 
 am too weary to drink tea or play gleek," she 
 added yawning ; " faith, 't is tiresome to walk in 
 the fields." 
 
 " Extremely so," replied my lord, as smooth 
 as silk, " especially when you bring wood briars 
 back upon your farthingale." 
 
 212
 
 My Lord Spencer 
 
 Lady Betty blushed red as a poppy as she 
 glanced down at the telltale twig caught in the 
 ruffles of her skirts. 
 
 " Pull it off, my dear," she said sweetly. 
 
 " Nay, I fear the thorns," he replied, with 
 distant politeness. 
 
 She plucked it away herself with a little 
 grimace. 
 
 " You are wise, Charles," she said, " 't is 
 well to keep your fingers out of other people's 
 troubles." 
 
 He bit his lip, giving her a furious glance as 
 she tripped up the stairs ahead of him. But, 
 though he followed more deliberately, he en- 
 tered Lady Sunderland's room but a moment 
 after her, and in time to hear her reply to his 
 mother's sharp inquiry. 
 
 " I walked a little way in the meadows, 
 madam," said Betty, with delightful mendac- 
 ity ; " you know you recommended it for my 
 complexion." 
 
 " A fine diversion," remarked Lord Spencer, 
 with a sneer, " but who, pray, was your 
 companion ? " 
 
 Lady Betty gave him a sidelong look that 
 spoke volumes. 
 
 "Faith," she retorted, with a shrug, "the 
 world would be a dull place with no men in it." 
 213
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 Lady Sunderland tittered behind her fan ; if 
 anything appealed to her, it was her daughter's 
 absolute audacity. But Spencer was furious. 
 
 " You choose a fine subject for a jest," he 
 said ; " I would have you know, madam, that 
 my sister cannot run about Newmarket with a 
 groom ! " 
 
 Then Betty turned upon him like a fury. 
 
 " Do not dare to say that to me again," she 
 cried, her bosom heaving with passion ; " you 
 forget to whom you speak ! Do you think 
 do you dare to think that I am not as ca- 
 pable as you of defending my own honor and 
 dignity ? More, sir, I would have you know 
 that I am accountable to none but my father 
 and my husband ! " and she swept past him 
 and out of the room like a whirlwind. 
 
 The older countess sank back in her chair 
 and giggled like a girl. 
 
 " La ! " she exclaimed, " her spirit ! I 'd 
 give ten guineas to see her do that over again, 
 and you deserved it, Charles, my love." 
 
 Her son gave her an exasperated look. 
 
 " That fellow is Clancarty I am sure of 
 it," he said fiercely, " and the minx is in com- 
 munication with him but, by Saint Thomas, 
 I '11 break it up if I have to break his head ! " 
 
 " Fudge, my love," replied the countess 
 214
 
 My Lord Spencer 
 
 tittering, " 't will take more than your wit to 
 keep two lovers apart ; but never fear, she '11 
 not give up her wealth and comfort to run 
 away with him she has too much sense." 
 
 Lord Spencer's eyelids drooped lower. 
 " I '11 see that she never has the opportunity, 
 madam," he said, in a cool voice that had the 
 effect of making Lady Sunderland shiver much 
 as Betty had. 
 
 Meanwhile, Lady Clancarty poured out her 
 hopes and fears and half-formed plans to Alice 
 Lynn. The first thing to be done was to get 
 the wounded man into a place of comfort, where 
 he would also be secure, and in this Alice could 
 help more than her mistress had dreamed. 
 The girl had an uncle living in Cambridge, a 
 mercer, and a man with Jacobite leanings, and 
 she at once suggested his house as a possible 
 shelter for Lord Clancarty. After some dis- 
 cussion, her mistress eagerly accepted this 
 opportunity, especially as she must leave 
 Newmarket soon for London to join her 
 father, and Cambridge would be near. There 
 were many secret missives passing to and fro 
 between the house in the woods and the Lion's 
 Head, but Betty found herself too closely 
 watched by Spencer to dare another visit, and 
 by the end of a week Lord Clancarty was 
 215
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 strong enough to be moved to Cambridge, to 
 her infinite relief. The journey was safely 
 and secretly accomplished, and she had the 
 happiness of knowing that he would have both 
 care and nursing, besides greater security. 
 
 By this time the races were over, and the 
 stream of people had poured back to the capi- 
 tal, where Parliament had been opened by the 
 king, and Newmarket was empty and quiet. 
 Lady Sunderland went to Windsor, leaving 
 her daughter to go on to London to the earl's 
 house, where Sunderland and Spencer had 
 preceded her. 
 
 Lady Clancarty went up to London, there- 
 fore, with her two women, Alice and Melissa 
 Thurle, and tried to wait with patience for an 
 opportunity to see her husband again. She 
 was cheered and solaced, however, by frequent 
 secret messages that assured her, not only of 
 his safety, but that he was mending rapidly. 
 He had even been able to write her one letter 
 himself, which she kept hidden in her bosom 
 by day and under her pillow by night, though 
 it was only a meagre little letter, written while 
 his hand was still unsteady. 
 
 " Dear heart," he wrote, " was it a dream 
 that lovely vision in the dark cabin ? Were 
 those soft kisses immaterial too ? Or did I 
 216
 
 My Lord Spencer 
 
 really hold you in my arms and feel your 
 cheek against my own ? Dear heart, dear wife, 
 I love you, yet am I parted from you - 
 but not for long not for long ! Else would 
 this earth be a purgatory and I should wish 
 the wound had been fatal ! Forgive me, I do 
 not doubt you, I should rather die." 
 
 But the time came, at last, when it was even 
 dangerous to receive or send these missives, for 
 Lord Spencer was watchful and suspicious still, 
 and for Clancarty's sake Betty forced herself 
 to be patient, the sharpest trial of all. 
 
 The weeks passed and the cold Saint Agnes 
 weather was upon them. Parliament was in 
 the depths of its wrangles over the military 
 establishment, but the House of Commons, 
 though never more unruly than in these last 
 years of William the Third, was in a somewhat 
 milder mood alarmed by the threatened dif- 
 ficulty of the Spanish Succession and it per- 
 mitted the ministers to put the most favorable 
 interpretation upon the law and retain ten 
 thousand fighting men. Further, it expressed 
 its attachment to the sovereign's person by 
 suspending the benefit of the Habeas Corpus 
 Act twelve months longer from Bernardi and 
 the other conspirators involved in the late 
 Assassination Plot. Lord Sunderland was 
 217
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 almost constantly at the king's elbow, absorbed 
 in political affairs, and Spencer stood out as a 
 shining light among the younger Whigs. 
 
 Meanwhile, Lady Clancarty fretted her heart 
 out because she could neither see Clancarty nor 
 get a message from him. Her suite of rooms 
 at Leicester House which was now the town 
 house of the Earl of Sunderland were never 
 so dreary. She paced them day and night in 
 her anxiety, and struggle as she would to hide 
 it, there were signs of it upon her face. Yet 
 she played her part well as the mistress of her 
 father's house, and she had never been more 
 lovely or more courted. Her receptions were 
 always crowded, and at every ball she was the 
 centre of a lively group of admirers and friends. 
 But with it all her heart ached. 
 
 It was one evening, the night of my Lord 
 Bridgewater's ball at his house in the Barbican, 
 that Lady Clancarty stood looking at her own 
 reflection, all dressed for the rout. Her gown, 
 a wondrous affair of silver lace and white bro- 
 cade, became her well, and her luxuriant hair 
 was deftly dressed with one large diamond 
 flashing like a star amidst the curls. She 
 turned away from the glass smiling she could 
 not help a certain pleasure in the picture but 
 the next she sighed and looked about for Alice. 
 
 218
 
 "Where is the girl ?" she said to herself; 
 " alas ! what a silly fool I am to deck myself 
 out like this for what ? I know not, since 
 he cannot see me and I cannot tell how it fares 
 with him." 
 
 Her mood changed swiftly ; a moment be- 
 fore she had thought of herself and of the ball 
 now she stood dejected, her head bowed, 
 tears in her eyes. 
 
 " Ah, if I only knew how he was," she mur- 
 mured softly, " if I could only see him well ! " 
 
 As she spoke the door opened gently and 
 Alice looked in, glancing around the room. 
 
 " What ails you, Alice ? " asked her mistress, 
 " you wear the face of a conspirator ; where 
 have you been ? " 
 
 Alice laid her finger on her lips and with- 
 drew to Betty's infinite astonishment and 
 the next instant the door opened wider and a 
 tall man, cloaked and booted for riding, crossed 
 the threshold. 
 
 Betty uttered a strange little cry ; her beau- 
 tiful India fan fell on the floor and broke in a 
 thousand pieces. Lord Clancarty sprang to- 
 ward her and caught her in his arms in time 
 to keep her from falling. 
 
 " My darling ! " he said, " I came too un- 
 expectedly I have done wrong." 
 219
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 " O Donough ! " she cried, smiling through 
 her tears, " I am so glad so glad ! " and she 
 held him off to look at him ; " pale," she said, 
 " and thin but mine mine own ! " 
 
 " Ah, Betty darling ! " he whispered, cover- 
 ing her face with kisses, " I have been dying 
 for this to come to you again ! " 
 
 " And you came here ! " she said, a little 
 catch in her voice, " here, in this house, oh, 
 the danger of it ! Spencer hates your very 
 name, darling ; how dared you come ? " 
 
 He caressed her soft hair, smiling. 
 
 " How dared I, Betty ? " he replied, " ah, 
 my child, you do not know me. Are you glad 
 to see me even here ? " 
 
 "Am I glad?" she murmured, tears in her 
 eyes. " Ah, Donough, the days have seemed 
 like weeks the weeks eternities ! " 
 
 " I am not worthy of you," he said, laying 
 his cheek against her soft one, " I am not 
 worthy of you ; but above all else I love 
 you ay, better than my own soul ! " 
 
 220
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 MELISSA 
 
 MEANWHILE, Alice Lynn, with a 
 pale face and watchful eyes, ran down 
 the gallery that opened into Lady 
 Clancarty's private apartments ; she locked the 
 door at the upper end and thrust the key into 
 her pocket; she ran back to the only other 
 entrance, the door upon the staircase, and there 
 she seated herself upon the upper step, a de- 
 voted sentinel, though her heart beat almost 
 to suffocation. If Clancarty were discovered 
 here here in his wife's rooms ! Alice shook 
 from head to foot ; some awful intuition warned 
 her that peril was at hand. 
 
 The gallery was long and dim ; two tall 
 tapers in the sconces upon the landing cast a 
 soft radiance in a little space, but left deep 
 shadows. The great house was strangely still. 
 Alice sat and listened to the beating of her 
 own heart which seemed louder than the faint 
 sound of voices behind the closed door at her 
 
 221
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 back. So great was her love for Lady Betty 
 that, like Catharine Douglas, she would have 
 thrust her arm into the staples and held the 
 door against a host, but for all that she 
 was frightened. Presently she started and 
 looked down the stairs. She had heard a soft 
 tread below yes, she was not mistaken ; a 
 woman was coming up, the one woman whom 
 she had thought safely out of the house that 
 night, the one she trusted least, Melissa 
 Thurle. At the moment Alice hated her, and 
 set her teeth and waited, but she trembled, 
 too. As for Melissa, she came up softly, a 
 quiet smile on her smooth face, serenity in her 
 shifting eyes ; soft, stealthy, feline in every 
 movement. She pretended to be startled when 
 she stumbled upon Alice, who barred the stairs. 
 Melissa pressed her hand to her heart. 
 
 " Why, how you frightened me ! " she cried ; 
 "what is it, Alice? " 
 
 " Nothing," retorted Alice, who was little 
 skilled in subterfuge and only stubbornly deter- 
 mined ; " I thought you were gone to your 
 aunt's." 
 
 " I started," replied Melissa sweetly, " but 
 't was too cold. I came back, and I have a 
 message for Lady Betty from Lord Sunder- 
 land." 
 
 222
 
 Melissa 
 
 "She has a headache," said Alice; "you 
 can leave the message with me ; no one is to 
 disturb her ladyship to-night unless she calls 
 me." 
 
 " Dear, dear ! " exclaimed Melissa, undis- 
 turbed, however ; " this is unusual but, un- 
 happily, I must see my lady ; Lord Sunderland's 
 orders are explicit. I dare not disobey." 
 
 "I do ! " declared Alice stubbornly, though 
 she quaked, for she heard voices again and she 
 knew, by Melissa's face, that she heard them, 
 too, for a gleam passed over it, swift as the 
 drawing of a knife. 
 
 " You are of no consequence," said the 
 woman firmly ; " I will see her," and she made 
 a sudden spring to set the girl aside. 
 
 But Alice was strong, if she was not diplo- 
 matic, and she caught her firmly by the waist. 
 
 " You shall not see her ! " she cried, her 
 face blazing with honest anger, " you shall not 
 worry her. I am stronger than you, and you 
 will never get past me never ! " and she 
 swung Melissa bodily back to the lower step. 
 
 At the moment, while the two eyed each 
 other furiously, both heard a man's voice 
 behind the closed door of Lady Clancarty's 
 room. Alice turned white, and Melissa 
 laughed. 
 
 223
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 She said not a word more. She laughed and 
 shrugged her shoulders, and Alice's face 
 burned with shame and anger. " The hateful 
 wretch, the insulting, crawling creature," the 
 girl thought ; yet she was relieved to see her 
 turn and walk quietly away. At the landing, 
 however, she stopped and laughed. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," she said sweetly, 
 " I '11 not interrupt you again, Miss Prude." 
 
 And she went on, while Alice burned to 
 run after her and box her ears. But she kept 
 her post, not daring to leave the door un- 
 guarded, and after awhile, she called to Lady 
 Betty and warned her, but in vain ; the lovers 
 could not part so soon. Clancarty lingered 
 lingered while the precious minutes flew and 
 fate travelled nearer and yet nearer. 
 
 Once out of Alice's sight, Melissa crept, 
 with her soft, catlike tread, along the lower 
 gallery, felt her way down a narrow stair, the 
 same by which Clancarty had ascended, and 
 looking over her shoulder occasionally to see 
 if the girl followed her, she opened another 
 door noiselessly, crept on down a long room 
 and through a hall. About her was every 
 sign of luxury and magnificence, rich soft rugs 
 upon the floors, long mirrors, beautiful statuary, 
 rare bric-a-brac from the India houses, every 
 
 224
 
 Melissa 
 
 evidence of culture and extravagance, and she 
 crept like a panther ready to spring. Her face 
 was like a white patch in the dusk of the 
 candle-light, her green eyes shone, too, like a 
 cat's. On, on she crept, stealthy, determined, 
 venomous ; a dangerous creature bent on a 
 miserable errand. Again, looking back for 
 Alice, another flight of stairs, and then a pause 
 before a pair of closed folding-doors. She 
 drew her breath and pressed her hand to her 
 heart. It took courage, but she had it, of 
 an evil sort, the courage that crawls in secret 
 places and strikes a man behind the back. 
 She opened the door gently and stood in a 
 sudden flood of light, looking at Lord Spencer. 
 
 He sat by a great candelabrum, reading 
 some pages of manuscript, and he did not hear 
 her. But having come so- far, she would not 
 be balked ; she glided nearer and began to 
 purr at him. The sound was scarcely human, 
 but he looked up quickly and bent his eyes 
 sternly upon her. He was so cold a man, so 
 pompous and important, that even this creep- 
 ing creature recoiled a little. But it was too 
 late now ; his very glance was a command. 
 
 " I beg pardon, my lord," she murmured, 
 soft as oil, " but my love for the family 
 my duty drove me here ! " 
 '5 225
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 " What for ? " he demanded coolly, view- 
 ing her from head to foot. 
 
 She was a little frightened. 
 
 " My lord," after all she blurted it out 
 under those eyes of his, " there 's a man in 
 your sister's rooms !" 
 
 He sprang from his chair with clenched hands. 
 
 " You damned lying cat, you ! " he ex- 
 claimed, between his teeth. 
 
 Melissa fell on her knees. 
 
 " Oh, my lord," she whined, " I did not 
 mean that ! 'T is her husband 't is Lord 
 Clancarty himself!" 
 
 It was as though a white mask had fallen on 
 his face, his figure was rigid, his eyes glittered; 
 rage was almost choking him. 
 
 " How do you know, woman ? " he asked 
 fiercely. 
 
 " I know him, sir, he has been haunting 
 her," hurried on Melissa, " at Althorpe, at 
 Newmarket, and now here. 'T was he who 
 fought the duel in the meadow. They have 
 tried to hide it from me but they could not. 
 He is in her room now." 
 
 Spencer glared at her, his hands twitching ; 
 when he spoke it was hoarsely. 
 
 " How came he there ? How came he in 
 this house ? " he demanded. 
 
 226
 
 Melissa 
 
 " Alice Lynn admitted him," said Melissa, 
 glibly enough now, her eyes narrow and pale; 
 " and she is trying to guard the doors. You 
 may see her for yourself, my lord," and she 
 fastened her eager gaze upon him. 
 
 She thought to see him take his sword and 
 go in search of his enemy ; she had whetted 
 her appetite for revenge for her mistress' scorn 
 of her with the thought of a duel in Lady 
 Clancarty's rooms, and of Clancarty in blood 
 at his wife's feet, or driven out into the night 
 whipped ! Ah, how she licked her lips at 
 the thought ; that would be the very acme of 
 triumph, and the young countess had treated 
 her with such contempt. 
 
 But Lord Spencer disappointed her. 
 
 " Send hither Giles," he said sharply, and 
 as she went out, reluctant to close the scene, 
 she saw him pick up his hat and cloak. 
 
 Wild with eagerness and curiosity, she hung 
 about the door ; she heard some orders to 
 Giles, the confidential servant, and she saw 
 Spencer go out alone, and gasped in surprise 
 and disappointment. Was he afraid? 
 
 And Giles looked askance at her as he passed. 
 
 " Where did he go ? " she whispered eagerly. 
 
 "To the devil," said the man sullenly, 
 " you 're a pretty bird, you are," and he meas- 
 
 Z27
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 ured her with rough scorn, even while he sat 
 down by the main door with his pistol on his 
 knee. 
 
 Melissa wetted her lips, creeping along by 
 the wall opposite, watchful and feline. 
 
 " Are you to catch him here ? " she de- 
 manded, meaning Lord Clancarty. 
 
 The man stared at her again. 
 
 " Yes," he replied, " I 'm told to shoot him, 
 but steer clear, my girl, people don't always 
 hit the mark," and he grinned. 
 
 " I shall tell Lord Spencer ! " she hissed at 
 him. 
 
 " Do ! 't is your business," retorted the man, 
 "and 'twill hang you sometime, my lady- 
 bird ! " 
 
 228
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 MR. SECRETARY VERNON 
 
 AT the door of Leicester House Lady 
 Clancarty's coach stood waiting to take 
 her to the ball at my Lord Bridge- 
 water's, and she had quite forgotten both the 
 ball which was a grand affair and the coach. 
 So it was that Lord Spencer found it waiting 
 his convenience for a very different purpose. 
 He entered it at once and directed the coach- 
 man to go to Westminster to the house of the 
 Under Secretary of State, and away the great, 
 rumbling, emblazoned coach rolled on its deadly 
 errand, not freighted with the charming and 
 vivacious countess but with a young nobleman, 
 whose heart swelled with passion and another 
 emotion, which his lordship mistook for virtue 
 -the virtue of the Roman who slew his 
 daughter. 
 
 As he rode through the dark streets of Lon- 
 don that night, a link-boy running at the horses' 
 heads, a tumult of strange feelings struggled in 
 his bosom. Passion ran high then, and party 
 229
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 hatreds led men to the dagger and the sword. 
 The very fact that his father's political roguery 
 was a byword made the young man more zeal- 
 ous for his own reputation. He burned to be 
 a Whig of the Whigs, a shining example as a 
 party leader, a distinguished patriot, and now 
 he found sedition in his own household, a viper 
 in his bosom. His hatred of his Jacobite 
 brother-in-law ran so entirely in accord with 
 his political creed and his ideas of patriotism, 
 that he mistook it for a virtuous indignation. 
 He moved, therefore, with an air of righteous 
 displeasure, of calm dignity, when he descended 
 from the coach at the secretary's door. 
 
 He was received with obsequious respect by 
 the servants and ushered up the stairs to the 
 private office. Mr. Secretary Vernon had en- 
 tertained friends at supper and was playing 
 shovel-board with his guests at the time. He 
 came in, therefore, in a genial mood, to urge 
 Lord Spencer to join them. He had every 
 reason to propitiate the young Whig, to soothe 
 and flatter a man who had already gained some 
 weight in Parliament. But Lord Spencer cut 
 short his civilities. 
 
 " I come on pressing business, Mr. Secre- 
 tary," he said gravely, with a dejected air ; " a 
 young girl's folly can, perhaps, be excused, 
 230
 
 Mr. Secretary Vernon 
 
 yet 't is hard to tell you that my sister from 
 compassion has received a traitor into my 
 father's house;" he paused, looking solemnly 
 at the secretary. 
 
 Vernon pricked up his ears. The assassi- 
 nation plot of Barclay and Bernardi and the little 
 band of conspirators which had thought to cut 
 off King William, was not yet old enough to 
 have lost its terrors, and the Blue Posts Tavern 
 was known to swarm with Jacobites, made bold 
 as most Whigs believed by William's 
 lenity. 
 
 " Your lordship distresses me," he said 
 politely, as Spencer seemed to wait for him ; 
 "may I hear more ? " 
 
 "You know the story," his lordship said 
 regretfully, " the foolish marriage between my 
 sister and the Earl of Clancarty ? " 
 
 Vernon nodded, a sudden change coming 
 over his face. 
 
 " Clancarty is in London," said Spencer, 
 "and my sister has received him. You can 
 picture my despair at such folly ! Mr. Secre- 
 tary, I must have a warrant, at once, and a 
 guard to send the villain to the Tower." 
 
 Secretary Vernon shot a look at him that a 
 wiser man would have called disdainful, but 
 Spencer was too self-absorbed to see it. 
 231
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 " I remember that Clancarty is excepted from 
 the king's amnesty," said the secretary thought- 
 fully, " he falls under the penalties of the last 
 Treason Act but your sister can't we 
 manage this more adroitly, my lord ? " 
 
 Lord Spencer looked at him with sternly 
 virtuous anger. " Sir," he replied, " I put 
 my duty before all else I desire his imme- 
 diate arrest. Delay may mean his ultimate 
 escape." 
 
 Vernon bowed. " My lord," he said, and 
 his lip curled scornfully, " you have truly 
 Roman virtue. I will fill out the warrant at 
 once and place it at your disposal. You desire 
 a guard from the Tower?" he added, as he 
 went to his table and began to write. 
 
 " I do, and speedily," replied the young 
 nobleman, with a sort of savage eagerness. 
 
 " Your lordship shall be accommodated," 
 Vernon said, and touched the bell which sum- 
 moned his clerk, and to him the secretary gave 
 a few sharp orders. Then he turned to Lord 
 Spencer. 
 
 " This young man will accompany you, my 
 lord," he said blandly, " and will give this 
 warrant into the hands of the proper officer, 
 who will go with you also, taking a sufficient 
 guard to effect the capture." 
 
 232
 
 Mr. Secretary Vernon 
 
 Spencer thanked him. " Your zeal is com- 
 mendable, Mr. Secretary," he said proudly, 
 " 't is an hour of peril to the state, and believe 
 me, sir, when I serve my country thus, I sac- 
 rifice my dearest feelings at its altar." 
 
 Vernon bowed profoundly. 
 
 "My lord," he responded, "you deserve 
 the plaudits of a grateful people. The mis- 
 fortunes of civil war and civil dissensions have 
 divided many a house against itself in this 
 kingdom." 
 
 But after Spencer left, the secretary walked 
 back into the room where a party of young 
 men were playing shovel-board, and he told 
 the story with a shrug. 
 
 " I thought of offering him thirty pieces 
 of silver," he remarked, " for his sister's hus- 
 band." 
 
 " Zounds ! " exclaimed one young gallant, 
 " my Lady Clancarty will be a widow - - 'tis an 
 ill wind that blows nobody good." 
 
 But another guest cursed Lord Spencer 
 as a cowardly villain. It was Sir Edward 
 Mackie. 
 
 " There 's a story that it was Clancarty who 
 fought the duel with Lord Savile at Newmar- 
 ket," said another; " what say you to that, 
 Mackie?" 
 
 233
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 But he was gone. 
 
 " Jove ! " exclaimed one of the secretary's 
 guests, " I '11 wager ten pounds he 's gone to 
 warn them ! " 
 
 And Vernon only smiled. 
 
 234
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 THE ARREST 
 
 IN spite of Alice's warning, in spite of the 
 deadly peril that surrounded him, Clan- 
 carty lingered at his wife's side. It was 
 hard to say farewell, hard to leave her, and 
 though her heart was filled with misgivings and 
 anxieties, Lady Betty could not urge him to 
 go ; indeed, she clung to him, weeping at the 
 thought of a parting that involved such perils 
 and hardships for him and such sorrow for her. 
 Moreover, there was much to talk of and to 
 plan. They did not mean to be separated 
 long ; she was to go with him to the Conti- 
 nent or to Ireland, and there were a thousand 
 details to arrange, a thousand hopes and fears 
 to strengthen or allay and they were lovers, 
 and when did lovers ever learn to watch the 
 tedious hand of time ? 
 
 The ball at Lord Bridgewater's was for- 
 gotten, Spencer was forgotten, all the world, in 
 fact, while Betty lovely with happiness, glow- 
 235
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 ing and smiling in her splendid gown thought 
 of no one but her husband, and desired no 
 admiration but his. 
 
 " Ah, my darling," he whispered, looking 
 down at her as her face lay against his breast, 
 " can you give up all this ? " he touched her 
 lace and jewels, " and this ? " he pointed at 
 the luxurious room, " and all you have and 
 are to follow a poor exile into poverty and 
 obscurity ? " 
 
 She smiled divinely. 
 
 " To follow my beloved even to the ends of 
 the earth," she said, " f for better or for worse, 
 for richer or for poorer, until death do us 
 part,' " she murmured tenderly. 
 
 " Amen ! " he said, and laid his face against 
 her soft hair, moved how deeply she could 
 not know ; her utter trust, her fondness touched 
 him to the heart. This splendid woman, with 
 every gift of nature and of fortune, willing to 
 renounce all for him he held her close and 
 his eyes dimmed. 
 
 " Ah," he said, " 't is worth living, dear 
 heart, for your sake ! When I thought you 
 scorned my poverty and would rather be the 
 wife of Savile than mine, I cared not if I died 
 but now! Ah, Betty, you could make a 
 dungeon paradise." 
 
 236
 
 The Arrest 
 
 " Nay," she replied, "it shall not be a dun- 
 geon, but a home, my husband, somewhere 
 even where these quarrelling kings cannot dis- 
 turb our paradise. Faith, my politics grow 
 strangely mixed," she added, with a smile. 
 
 " Love knows no politics," he answered, 
 smiling too, " you and I shall not quarrel over 
 our principles, sweetheart." 
 
 As he spoke, the door was thrown open and 
 Alice ran into the room with a ghastly face. 
 
 "Oh, my lady," she cried, "there's something 
 wrong I hear strange voices below, there are 
 men upon the stairs ! My lord must hide." 
 
 Betty sprang to her feet. 
 
 " Quick ! " she cried, " Donough, there is the 
 other door ! 
 
 " 'T is useless," cried Alice ; " they come 
 from both sides I saw them ! " 
 
 " Then I will hide you ! " Betty cried wildly, 
 catching her husband's arm. 
 
 For an instant he hesitated ; he, too, heard 
 the heavy feet in the gallery, then he shook 
 his head. 
 
 " No, Betty, dear," he said, " I cannot be 
 hunted like a rat in a hole ; I must face them 
 like a man, like your husband." 
 
 She uttered a little cry of despair and clung 
 to him, while Alice wrung her hands. 
 237
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 " Oh, the window, my lord ! " she cried, 
 f c there is a balcony ! " 
 
 " Too late, my girl," Lord Clancarty replied 
 calmly, the light flashing in his gray eyes, his 
 head erect ; " no, no, I Ve never let an enemy 
 see my back I can't learn to run now." 
 
 Betty looked up at him and caught her 
 breath ; here was a man after her own heart. 
 She felt his hand go to his sword and she, too, 
 looked toward the door. They had not even 
 thought of barring it, but it would have been 
 useless, for it was thrown wide open by a 
 sheriff's deputy, who was followed by a guard 
 of stout yeomen from the Tower. 
 
 " Is Donough Macarthy, Earl of Clancarty, 
 here ? " demanded the sheriff, fixing his eyes 
 on the earl as he stood there, with his wife 
 clinging to him. 
 
 " I am Clancarty," he replied proudly. Re- 
 sistance would have been worse than useless, 
 and he only pressed his dear Betty closer to 
 his heart ; he knew that separation was in- 
 evitable. 
 
 " I have a warrant to seize the body of the 
 Earl of Clancarty and carry him to the Tower, 
 on the charge of high treason," said the officer, 
 producing the parchment and reading the war- 
 rant aloud in the king's name. 
 
 238
 
 The Arrest 
 
 " I do not acknowledge the authority of the 
 Prince of Orange," said Clancarty calmly, " but 
 I must submit to superior numbers," he 
 added, with a scornful glance at the six stout 
 yeomen who had filed into the room and stood 
 gaping at Lady Clancarty. " You have ar- 
 rested me in the apartments of my wife. I 
 came to London solely to see the Countess of 
 Clancarty, but I will go with you without 
 further protest." 
 
 The officer bowed to Lady Clancarty. 
 
 " I am reluctant to part you, my lord," he 
 said grimly, " but we have no time to lose ; my 
 orders are explicit." 
 
 " You might find a better office, sir," said 
 Lady Betty, withering him with a look, and 
 then breaking down when her husband kissed 
 her farewell. 
 
 " Have comfort, dear heart," he whispered, 
 though he knew the case was desperate ; " bear 
 up for my sake now ! " 
 
 But she clung to him in a passion of grief, 
 begging to go with him to the Tower until it 
 wrung his heart anew to leave her. Even the 
 soldiers glanced away in grim silence, and she 
 was half unconscious when Clancarty unclasped 
 her hands from his neck and laid her in Alice's 
 arms.
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 " Care for her, Alice," he said, in a tone of 
 deep but restrained emotion, "guard her 
 tenderly, do not leave her in this hour of trial 
 for they will tear me from her! My poor 
 darling my poor wife!" 
 
 He lingered to kiss 4 her again, to push the 
 soft hair back from her forehead, and it was 
 only a final order from the sheriff that took 
 him from her side. 
 
 The guards had escorted him out at last, or 
 rather he had walked out proudly with them, 
 though his heart was aching for her. They 
 were already at the lower door when Lady 
 Clancarty, recovering consciousness, sprang up 
 to come face to face with Spencer. Then the 
 truth flashed upon her and she stood before 
 him with a terrible face. 
 
 " You you betrayed him ! " she cried, 
 
 " you sent those men here to drag him 
 
 i " 
 away ! 
 
 Lord Spencer took it as a compliment. 
 
 "I did," he said piously; "I delivered the 
 traitor to his fate ; I would do it were he my 
 own flesh and blood. No sacrifice is too great 
 for truth and justice." 
 
 " You hypocrite ! " cried Lady Betty pas- 
 sionately ; " you have broken your sister's 
 heart for the sake of your pride your 
 
 240
 
 The Arrest 
 
 politics ! You have murdered my husband 
 my husband ! " she wrung her hands in 
 agony. 
 
 " I have done my duty," he replied coldly. 
 
 "Your duty?" she cried bitterly; "was it 
 then your duty to betray your sister's husband ? 
 To force an officer and his guard into your 
 sister's rooms to trample on her tenderest 
 feelings to mortify and crush her? Duty!" 
 she repeated scornfully, " then may no man 
 henceforth do his duty ! Such virtue is more 
 vile than vice such courage worse than cow- 
 ardice! How dare you face me or look at 
 me ? An injured woman ! I mark your white 
 face, sir, and I marvel at its pallor ; it should 
 burn with shame." 
 
 Spencer ground his teeth in anger. "You 
 saucy minx," he said, " how dared you have 
 that man here ? " 
 
 " How dared I ? " she repeated, " how dared 
 I have my husband with me ? Whom should 
 I have with me if not my husband ? " 
 
 She paused for breath ; her bosom rose and 
 fell, she put her hands to her throat as if she 
 choked. It was a moment before she could 
 speak. 
 
 " What have you done ? " she went on pas- 
 sionately, her slender figure towering, her eyes 
 
 16 241
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 on fire; "you have torn him from my arms, 
 you have sent him to his death, but you 
 cannot tear him from my heart ! While that 
 beats, while the blood runs through these 
 veins, I will love him love him ! And he 
 is my husband my husband, do you hear, 
 you coward ? I bear his name, I am his, his 
 flesh and blood, his very own you cannot 
 separate us ! Even if you kill him, our souls 
 are one ; you cannot part them any more than 
 you can rend the sky asunder ! I am not your 
 sister I am Clancarty's wife." 
 
 " Shame on you, madam," said Spencer 
 bitterly, his face like ashes, gray and white ; 
 " shame on you to declare yourself so passion- 
 ately enamoured of a Jacobite a reprobate 
 a " 
 
 " Of my husband," she said, and her low 
 voice cut like a lash. 
 
 " Your husband," he mocked ; " are you sure 
 that he is your lawful husband ? A sneaking 
 rogue who crept to your room by a back-stair 
 who would not face your family like a man 
 of honor ! " 
 
 " What insult more have you for me ? " she 
 cried ; " 't is you who dared not face him ; you 
 crept behind him like a coward, you you 
 Judas ! " 
 
 242
 
 The Arrest 
 
 She caught her breath, her hands at her 
 throat again. 
 
 " Sit down, madam," said his lordship coldly ; 
 " your fury suffocates you. It will not avail," 
 he laughed, " to set the rogue free ! " 
 
 She looked at him strangely. 
 
 " Are you human ? " she asked, " are you 
 like other men ? or some monster, some 
 abortive creature, cast upon the earth to wreck, 
 the lives of others ? How could any woman 
 marry you ? I think you are not human 
 though we are of the same mother ! " 
 
 Spencer laughed bitterly. 
 
 " Quite human, Elizabeth," he said sneering, 
 " as human as my termagant sister as the 
 rogue they are carrying now to the Tower, 
 where, I trust, he '11 rest well and safe." 
 
 She recoiled half way across the room and 
 stared at him wildly, as if her very senses were 
 bewildered. 
 
 " To the Tower ? " she repeated, like a child 
 who had a lesson by rote, " the great gloomy 
 Tower yonder ? " 
 
 " Would you have preferred Newgate ? " my 
 lord asked maliciously, beginning to find some 
 joy in a situation that had not been without 
 humiliation. 
 
 " They carry my husband to the Tower ! " 
 243
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 Lady Betty cried wildly, clasping her hands to 
 her bosom as if to still the tumult there, " and 
 I stand here talking to the Judas who betrayed 
 him ! Go hang yourself, my lord, surely 
 you cannot want to live," she went on, 
 mad with her despair ; " let me see your face 
 no more. The very air you breathe poisons 
 me. Never, never shall the same roof shelter 
 us again ! I go, sir, your sister no longer, 
 but the beggar's wife. I go to share his fate, 
 to starve with him, to die for him or with him ! 
 But to see you no more forever and forever ! " 
 
 She rushed past him, sweeping her skirts 
 aside that they might not so much as touch 
 him, and ran wildly out of the room. 
 
 Fleeing through the long galleries and down 
 the stairs, in her splendid dress, and heedless 
 of the gaping servants and of the bitter cold 
 she went out, bareheaded, into the night. 
 
 244
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 THE TRAITOR'S GATE 
 
 POOR Lady Betty, half distracted, fled 
 from the house into Leicester Fields, 
 trying to find the party that had pre- 
 ceded her with her husband as a prisoner. 
 The darkness and the peril of the London 
 streets at that late hour did not enter her 
 thoughts. Bareheaded and without a cloak 
 to shield her from the cold night air, she ran 
 around the square. 
 
 She saw lights in the adjacent houses, she 
 heard voices in the distance, but she only 
 looked for one her husband. She took no 
 thought of the madness of her project ; she 
 sped on and on, and might have come into 
 some great peril had she not fallen almost into 
 the arms of a man who was running toward 
 Lord Sunderland's mansion. They came upon 
 each other in the darkness ; in her grief and 
 nervousness she uttered a little cry, and he 
 knew her voice.
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 "Lady Clancarty!" he exclaimed, stopping 
 short. 
 
 It was young Mackie. 
 
 At first she did not recognize him, but when 
 she did, she caught his arm with a frantic 
 appeal. The light from a dim lantern over- 
 head shone on her white face. 
 
 " My husband ! " she cried, " my Lord 
 Clancarty. They have dragged him away to 
 prison. My nay, I will not call him my 
 brother that man yonder, Charles Spencer, 
 betrayed him betrayed my husband, and they 
 came into my very rooms to arrest him to 
 tear us apart, and he has gone," she added 
 wildly, " gone to the Tower." 
 
 " I know," he replied, deeply moved, " I 
 know. I was at Vernon's house and heard 
 it after your after Lord Spencer got the 
 warrant. I came to warn you but, alas, I am 
 too late." 
 
 " Yes, too late ! " cried Betty, a little wildly, 
 "too late; but I am going to the Tower 
 I am going to my husband ! " 
 
 They had walked on a little way as they 
 talked, and were so near Aylesbury House 
 that the lights from within fell on her. He 
 saw her uncovered head and dazzling gown. 
 
 " Lady Clancarty," he said persuasively, " let 
 246
 
 The Traitor s Gate 
 
 us go back for your cloak and mask. You 
 can't go down the river to the Tower thus 
 in the cold ! " 
 
 "I care not for it," she replied; "go back? " 
 she shuddered, " I could not I cannot breathe 
 the same air with Spencer, it poisons me ! " 
 
 Without another word young Mackie took 
 off his own cloak and wrapped it around her, 
 and she, in her excitement, took no thought of 
 his exposure to the cold in his thin suit of 
 velvet and satin. 
 
 "I must go!" she reiterated, "the very 
 shortest way I must go to my husband ! " 
 and her voice broke pitifully. 
 
 " You shall go, dear Lady Clancarty," he 
 said gently, setting himself to face the task, 
 though a sharp pain rankled in his own bosom, 
 and when he drew her hand through his arm 
 he set his teeth. 
 
 He loved her, too, and she took no more 
 thought of him than of a stone such is the 
 way of women. 
 
 The night wind cut their faces as they walked 
 toward the river. She was so used to service 
 from men, to their devotion, that she took his 
 for granted; she did not even try to talk to 
 him, but he heard her weeping softly and the 
 pitiful little sound made him shiver. He 
 2 47
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 longed to comfort her, but he set his teeth 
 harder he knew she wept for Lord Clancarty. 
 
 When they reached the water stairs she was 
 resolute again and alert. She walked unas- 
 sisted down the steps and urged him to take 
 any boat for the Tower, impatient of the 
 wrangling of the boatmen. She stamped her 
 foot at them, in fact, and took so high a tone 
 that, at last, the blackguards subsided and took 
 them meekly enough, though the order, "the 
 Traitor's Gate," caused some murmurs. 
 
 Once on the water she sat erect and silent, 
 straining eyes and ears for the king's boat, 
 which had, of course, preceded hers, with her 
 husband aboard. She hoped to be close enough 
 behind to gain admission with him ; she had 
 no other hope, no other prayer but to share 
 his fate, however wretched, to follow him to 
 prison and to death. Her impulsive nature 
 stirred at last to its depths swept her on. She 
 could be as heroic now and as resolute as she 
 had been careless and happy in the summer 
 time of her life. She was imperial woman to 
 her finger tips; she loved and hated with the 
 full, fierce tide of her rich nature. She gave all 
 and kept nothing back. 
 
 Young Mackie looking at the dark outline 
 of her figure against the gray river, felt all this 
 
 248
 
 The Traitor s~ Gate 
 
 keenly and admired her the more. She was 
 a woman to die for, he thought, and turned his 
 boyish face away, for he dared not look at her 
 it tried him too far. 
 
 Something in her mood seemed to cast a 
 spell upon the boatmen ; the wherry swept on 
 in silence, save for the sound of the oars and 
 the ripple of water under its bow. The lights 
 of the city, feeble lanterns swung across the 
 narrow, reeking streets, gleamed dimly; the 
 river was as still as death. 
 
 At last the frowning bastions of the Tower 
 that inexorable fortress, dark with secrets, 
 grim as Fate, cast their black shadow over 
 them. And then, Betty's heart stood still 
 the boat turned and began to creep under the 
 vaulted arch at the Traitor's Gate. The faint 
 gleaming of night upon the waters narrowed 
 behind them and was swallowed up in dark- 
 ness, while before, the red lights at the gate 
 began to shine. The boat jarred on the steps. 
 She looked up and saw the closed wicket and 
 the guard of yeomen looking down, and 
 suddenly despair seized upon her and she 
 trembled so that Mackie had almost to lift her 
 from the boat. 
 
 Then arose the question of admittance. She 
 wished to see the warden; but Sir Edward 
 249
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 knew this was no easy matter and resorted to 
 a stratagem. 
 
 " We come from Mr. Secretary Vernon," 
 he said boldly, with an air of authority. 
 
 The sergeant at the gate hesitated, and asked 
 for a permit. 
 
 " The matter is pressing," Mackie said 
 firmly ; "we must be admitted." 
 
 The sergeant shook his head, looking gravely 
 out upon them. A yeoman lifted his torch 
 and the light streamed on Lady Betty's beauti- 
 ful face. 
 
 " I cannot admit you at this hour," the old 
 soldier replied firmly but not unkindly ; " my 
 orders are explicit." 
 
 Betty's face changed and seemed to shrink 
 into childish proportions ; she held out her 
 hands pitifully. 
 
 " I beg you," she said, her voice quivering, 
 " I am Lady Clancarty, the wife of the earl 
 who has just been arrested. Is he here ? I 
 pray you tell me ? " 
 
 The two men at the wicket exchanged sig- 
 nificant glances, and the elder looked down at 
 her again in open pity. 
 
 " He was committed about twenty minutes 
 ago, madam," he replied kindly. 
 
 " Twenty minutes ? O Sir Edward, twenty 
 250
 
 The Traitor s Gate 
 
 minutes ago, and I might have seen him ! " 
 and she wept bitterly. 
 
 She drew a ring from her finger, a costly 
 jewel, and pressed it upon the soldier. 
 
 " I pray you let me enter too ! " she cried, 
 " I would only share his prison. See, I have no 
 weapons nothing ! I cannot set him free 
 I only want to share his fate ! " 
 
 The sergeant waved aside her jewel. 
 
 " Nay," he said firmly, " bribes I may not 
 take. Truly, madam, if I could let you see 
 your husband I would do it, but I dare not." 
 
 Mackie urged him then, using the name of 
 the Duke of Devonshire, though he had felt 
 from the first that without a permit she could 
 never be admitted. Lady Clancarty would not 
 give way so readily ; she struggled with her 
 grief and commanded her voice again, going 
 closer to the wicket and laying her hands upon 
 it that famous wicket which had closed be- 
 hind so many prisoners ; on Anne Boleyn and 
 Lady Jane Grey, on Sir Thomas More and 
 Cranmer and on the Duke of Norfolk ; the 
 wicket stained with a long history of terror and 
 despair was clasped now by Lady Betty's 
 slender fingers, and she prayed for admittance 
 a new prayer, indeed, at the Traitor's Gate. 
 
 " You will let me in," she said ; " I must 
 251
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 speak with the captain of the guard ! I am the 
 daughter of the Earl of Sunderland. I demand 
 this much to see the captain of the guard." 
 
 At this the man gave way a little ; he sent 
 a yeoman for the captain of the watch, but he 
 kept the wicket closed and stood grim and 
 silent, looking out upon them. The torch- 
 light flared up and down, the water rippled be- 
 low them on the stone steps it seemed like 
 the tongue of a hungry wolf lapping blood 
 and there was silence. 
 
 At last came the echo of heavy feet upon 
 the stone floor, the rattle of arms, and the tall, 
 gray-headed captain came to the wicket and 
 looked out, inexorable as fate, though his eyes 
 changed a little at the sight of Lady Clancarty, 
 common as a woman's grief was there. He 
 listened to Mackie's explanation, gravely re- 
 spectful but unrelenting. 
 
 " I ask only to see him to share his fate," 
 Betty said, as Sir Edward concluded, " 't is so 
 little ! " 
 
 But the officer shook his head. 
 
 " Nay, madam," he replied kindly, " not 
 without the king's orders." 
 
 " At least permit her to see her husband, to 
 speak with him," urged Sir Edward. 
 
 " 'T is a small thing to grant me," cried 
 252
 
 The Traitor s Gate * 
 
 Betty, " I pray you, sir, think of your own 
 wife in a like case, and show compassion on the 
 unfortunate ! " 
 
 " Nay, madam, I need no urging," said the 
 captain, "if it were in my power but it is 
 not; since the last assassination plot we have 
 been strictly enjoined to guard our prisoners 
 of state and hedge them in with every precau- 
 tion. Your case is in higher hands than mine. 
 Surely, Lady Clancarty, you can obtain influ- 
 ence enough to grant your wish, your father, 
 Secretary Vernon." 
 
 " My father," Lady Clancarty repeated bit- 
 terly, as she stood thinking, her white face 
 downcast. 
 
 The two men exchanged significant glances; 
 neither of them had hope. Clancarty was 
 scarcely an object for the king's clemency ; he 
 was a notorious Jacobite, a man of daring, 
 whose personal prominence as an Irish earl, no 
 less than his political affiliations, marked him 
 out for probable example. 
 
 Happily, she did not see their looks, she 
 stood leaning against the wicket, her head bent. 
 She looked up and began to plead again to see 
 her husband. 
 
 " You may put me behind bolts and bars," 
 she said passionately, " I care not ; indeed, I 
 253
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 pray to be a prisoner too, since he is one. Ah, 
 it is so little that I ask. What could I do ? 
 I could not break his chains I could not set 
 him free ! I only pray pray you," she 
 stretched out her hands in fervent supplication, 
 " to let me share his prison ! I cannot be free 
 while he is here I will not be free ! " 
 
 The old soldier shook his head, he was 
 deeply touched. 
 
 " I cannot, madam," he replied ; " but let 
 me beg you to carry this petition to one who 
 can and will surely hear you." 
 
 " You mean the king ? " said Mackie. 
 
 The officer inclined his head. " I know of 
 no one in these three kingdoms so merciful," 
 he replied quietly. 
 
 " 'T is a wise thought," said Sir Edward 
 gently, as if he spoke to a child ; " come, Lady 
 Clancarty, let us carry our petition to his 
 majesty." 
 
 For the moment she had completely broken 
 down. She wept and her sobs shook her from 
 head to foot. 
 
 " I cannot leave him here," she cried ; " how 
 dare you ask me ? " 
 
 Young Mackie bowed his head ; he, too, 
 was shaken by her emotion. 
 
 " I only beg of you to appeal to one who 
 254
 
 The Traitor s Gate 
 
 has the power to grant your petition," he said, 
 very low. 
 
 It was a little while yet before she conquered 
 herself and looked up through her tears at 
 them both. 
 
 " I believe you mean kindly to me," she 
 said, with a humility strangely touching in one 
 of her high spirit ; " I will go to my father, 
 Sir Edward, he may hear me but I have 
 little hope so little hope ! " and she fell to 
 weeping again.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 ALICE AND DENIS 
 
 WHEN Lady Clancarty fled wildly 
 from her father's house, poor Alice 
 was too much overwhelmed with the 
 agony of the recent scene to know what to do. 
 For the moment she gave way only to her 
 grief, fleeing from Spencer and from the woman, 
 Melissa, as she would have fled from pestilence. 
 But she was too sensible and too faithful to 
 remain long without making an effort to follow 
 her mistress. In less than an hour, therefore, 
 she had gathered up a heavy cloak and hood 
 of Lady Betty's, and assuming her own mantle, 
 went out into the night. It took no small 
 courage to do this, when the streets of London 
 were beset by rogues of every class and descrip- 
 tion, and the dim streaks of light from an oc- 
 casional lantern swung in some archway served 
 only to make the darkness visible. Alice, 
 who was urged on by no frenzy like Lady 
 Clancarty's, went out with a sinking heart, her 
 sharp sense of duty alone keeping her to her 
 purpose. She had not dared to ask even a 
 256
 
 Alice and Denis 
 
 lackey from the house to attend her ; these 
 town servants were strangers to her, and every- 
 where she looked for treachery. Poor Alice 
 wrapped her cloak around her and set out 
 alone upon a devious course of wanderings, 
 through every lane and byway in the vicinity, 
 in a fruitless quest for her dear lady. Some- 
 times the girl proceeded quietly through a 
 deserted street; again she shrank into the 
 shelter of a friendly doorway at the sound of 
 high voices and drunken laughter ; and again 
 and more than once she dodged some 
 ruffian who would have pounced upon her, 
 and fled, saved by swift running, for she was 
 fleet as any deer. The terrors of the night 
 grew upon her until her knees shook under 
 her. She could not imagine what evil had 
 befallen her lovely and unhappy mistress and 
 more than once she stopped, blinded by tears. 
 Just as her despair reached a climax, she 
 came in sight of the Standard Tavern and 
 glanced at it timidly ; even at that hour it was 
 well lighted and full of company. As she 
 watched, a figure came out of the door and 
 stood by the lantern under the sign a short, 
 sturdy figure and a homely Irish face. She 
 recognized Denis, and Denis was Lord Clan- 
 carty's faithful servant. She did not know 
 '7 257
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 that he had only just discovered the arrest of 
 his master in Sunderland's house and had put 
 his own interpretation upon it. She rushed 
 blindly as we do upon fate. 
 
 " O Mr. Denis ! " she cried, revealing her 
 white face under her hood, " have you seen my 
 mistress ? my dear Lady Clancarty ? " 
 
 Denis wheeled and eyed her with an expres- 
 sion that she did not understand. 
 
 " Begorra ! " he ejaculated, beneath his breath, 
 and swept down upon her like an avalanche. 
 
 " I know ye, me darlint," he said, and there 
 was something in his tone that sent a shiver 
 through Alice, " ye '11 walk a stip with me an' 
 tell me thrue all ye know of this, ivery wurd ! 
 Come on, mavourneen, 'tis fer me ear alone." 
 
 " I can't go with you," Alice said, trying to 
 pull away from him, but his grip was a vise ; 
 " my poor lady is out here in the night I must 
 find her." 
 
 "A curse upon her!" said Denis fiercely, 
 " a curse upon her smilin', desateful face ; may 
 she dhry up an' wither away loike a did leaf 
 an' may " 
 
 Alice cried out a little. 
 
 " Let me go !" she said, " you bloody Irish- 
 man, let me go. I thought you were a faithful 
 servant to Lord Clancarty." 
 
 258
 
 Alice and Denis 
 
 " I '11 not let ye go," retorted Denis savagely, 
 dragging her along, " I '11 not let ye go until I 
 make yer teeth rattle ! " 
 
 Alice screamed aloud in an agony of fright ; 
 but of what avail was it ? A woman's scream 
 in the black mouth of a London lane at mid- 
 night ; it was only a drop upon the surface of 
 a black pool. 
 
 " Scrame away, ye little threacherous, spiteful 
 cat, ye ! " said Denis, shaking her fiercely ; 
 " ye 'd bethray me masther, would ye ? Be- 
 gorra, I 'd loike ter kill ye intirely ! Take 
 that, ye hizzy ! " and he gave her a sound blow 
 that made the poor girl reel. 
 
 Alice was no weakling and she put out all 
 her strength and fought him, screaming. 
 
 " Oh, ye cat, ye ! " he said harshly, shaking 
 her again ; " take that an' that, ye lyin', de- 
 sateful hizzy ! I '11 teach ye," and he shook her 
 much as a big dog shakes a kitten. 
 
 Alice screamed ; if she even dimly con- 
 ceived his error, she had no breath to argue 
 with him ; she believed, indeed, that her last 
 hour had come, and shrieked with all her 
 strength. And Denis shook her, and would 
 have gone on shaking her indefinitely but for 
 a timely interruption. 
 
 259
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 FATHER AND DAUGHTER 
 
 WHEN Lady Clancarty ascended the 
 water stairs on her return from the 
 Tower she was outwardly calm, 
 the floodtide of her emotion having spent it- 
 self in the outburst at the Traitor's Gate. 
 Young Mackie, still acting as her sole escort, 
 came up the steps behind her and the two, 
 pausing at the top, saw dawn breaking over 
 the river. Like a wraith the fog rolled up 
 along the water, the sky grew pale and in the 
 far east a light shone, keen and cold. The 
 streets were unusually quiet ; it was a little 
 before the hour when a city stirs for its first 
 breath ; darkness lay deeply in the narrow 
 lanes, and silence. On the river, which 
 bristled with a forest of masts, some ships put 
 up their sails. 
 
 Suddenly they heard a woman's scream and 
 saw two figures struggling at the mouth of the 
 lane before them. Mackie started toward 
 
 260
 
 Father and Daughter 
 
 them, but the woman broke away and ran 
 screaming to the water side, almost brushing 
 against Lady Clancarty, and as she did so 
 there was a cry of recognition and she fell 
 upon her neck, weeping and exclaiming. It 
 was Alice Lynn. Sir Edward seized the man. 
 
 " You rogue ! " he exclaimed, " you would 
 abuse a woman, would you ? " 
 
 But the fellow, struggling lustily for his 
 liberty, broke out with an Irish oath, and 
 Mackie knew him. 
 
 " You are Lord Clancarty 's man," he said 
 in surprise, releasing him ; " what means this ? 
 I am Sir Edward Mackie." 
 
 " Faix, there 's naything the matther," re- 
 plied Denis sullenly, rubbing his neck ; " I was 
 jist givin' thet dasignin' hizzy a shaking fer 
 bethrayin' me Lord Clancarty curse her ! " 
 
 " You are mistaken, my man," said Mackie, 
 understanding Denis's error, " I was at Secre- 
 tary Vernon's when Lord Spencer came in 
 for the warrant. Lady Clancarty has just 
 come from the Tower where she would fain 
 have shared your master's imprisonment. Her 
 woman here, I doubt not, is as faithful." 
 
 " The saints be praised ! " exclaimed Denis 
 piously, " I could n't b'lave ill of her ladyship, 
 but whin there 's snake wurrk loike this, yer 
 261
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 honor, I'm afther looking fer th' woman; 
 't was a woman, sir, that started in these 
 dalings with th' ould serpent himself. Me 
 lord's as good as did now, woe's me!" 
 
 " Say nothing like that to my lady, I charge 
 you," said Mackie sharply, " she cannot bear 
 it." 
 
 At the moment, Betty called Denis, having 
 heard Alice's story and divining his mistake. 
 
 " I will forgive you, Denis," she said, " since 
 it was for my lord's sake ; but you have nearly 
 killed my poor girl with fright and she was 
 only seeking me." 
 
 " Forgive me, your ladyship," he said hum- 
 bly, " I can but die fer ye, me poor lord " 
 he broke down, and Lady Clancarty said no 
 more ; she, too, was overcome. 
 
 It did not occur to Denis to apologize to 
 the victim of his mistaken vengeance, but 
 when he learned that Lady Clancarty intended 
 to make another attempt to get into the 
 Tower, he joined himself to her party, without 
 asking permission, and followed on, determined 
 to go with her to his master, ignoring Alice's 
 abhorrence. 
 
 It was with this strangely assorted company 
 that Lady Clancarty returned at daybreak to 
 her father's house. Not to remain, as she told 
 
 262
 
 Father and Daughter 
 
 young Mackie, for never again would she 
 dwell under the same roof with the man who 
 had betrayed her husband. 
 
 The events of the night, quite as exciting at 
 home as abroad, had made the Earl of Sunder- 
 land wakeful, so it happened that he was out 
 of bed when his daughter sought him in his 
 own room. She found him, clad in a great 
 shag gown, sitting in an armchair by the fire, 
 calmly sipping a cup of chocolate, his bland 
 countenance showing no sign of perturbation, 
 no matter what his emotions might have been. 
 Nor did he express any surprise at his daugh- 
 ter's appearance in her strange guise at that 
 unusual hour. He smiled upon her quite 
 benignly and waved her toward a chair. 
 
 " A cup of chocolate, my love," he said, 
 "you look fatigued." 
 
 Betty looked at him sadly. She knew only 
 too well how hard it was to touch his heart 
 under that polished exterior, if heart he had at 
 all, and she had often doubted it. 
 
 " You will not sit down ? " he asked with 
 apparent surprise ; " you must be tired." 
 
 " I do not wish to rest here," she replied 
 
 sadly, " I cannot under the same roof with 
 
 Spencer," she would not call him her 
 
 brother ; " I know you have heard all, sir," 
 
 263
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 she added, watching him keenly hoping, 
 fearing ; " I have come here to pray your 
 good offices with the king to ask you to 
 help your own daughter to save her husband 
 from death ! " 
 
 Lord Sunderland held up his hand depre- 
 catingly. 
 
 " My love," he said, " I feared as much ! 
 Pray do not ask the impossible! You know how 
 they hate me in Parliament because I am sup- 
 posed to have the king's ear. If I meddle in 
 this they will bring in a bill of attainder, it is 
 a favorite scheme of theirs," he added bitterly. 
 
 "But, father, they will kill my husband," 
 cried Betty, " they will behead him for high 
 treason, and he only came here to see 
 me!" 
 
 Lord Sunderland smiled and sipped his choco- 
 late, quite unmoved. 
 
 " He is a traitor, though, my dear," he 
 remarked, " and quite a notorious one. My 
 dear Betty, don't make a scene you know 
 nothing about the man." 
 
 " He is my husband," she cried with pas- 
 sionate grief, " is that no tie ? " 
 
 " I 've known several fine ladies who did not 
 consider it one," replied the earl, with a titter, 
 " notably my Lady Shrewsbury the elder." 
 
 264
 
 Father and Daughter 
 
 " An infamous creature, and you know it ! " 
 cried Betty, with something of her old spirit, 
 and then she threw herself on her knees beside 
 him ; "father, father," she pleaded, "you were 
 ever kind to me oh, pity me, help me to save 
 him ! " 
 
 Sunderland tried to raise her ; he even ca- 
 ressed her bowed head. He detested a scene, 
 and he did not know how to manage this 
 beautiful young creature. 
 
 " My child," he said, " this will pass ; you do 
 not know him well enough to feel his loss. The 
 marriage was my folly ; your release though 
 doubtless painful and cruel will be a blessing 
 in disguise." 
 
 Betty recoiled from his touch, her face white. 
 
 " I love him," she declared simply, " his 
 death upon the block would kill me." 
 
 " Tut, tut ! " replied her father heartlessly ; 
 " we young people always die so easily." 
 
 " I would rather die than find those of my 
 own blood so indifferent to my wretchedness," 
 cried Betty. 
 
 "Perhaps you are indifferent, too," rejoined 
 the earl ; " your mother lies ill now at Windsor." 
 
 " I am sorry," Betty said, " but I must try 
 to save my husband. Father, father ! " she 
 clung to his hand weeping, " if you ever loved 
 265
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 me as an infant, as a child, as a young girl, 
 do not abandon me now. Oh, help me to 
 save him ! Do you not remember when you 
 used to carry me in your arms your little girl ? 
 Oh, you were kind to me, father, kinder than any 
 one else ! You will not break my heart now ? 
 My mother never cared for me as you did 
 never caressed me so, never brought me toys. 
 I loved you then, sir, and I love you now. 
 Have you no place in your heart for me 
 your daughter, your little girl, Elizabeth ? 
 Go to the king you have but to ask; they 
 say he is merciful, and he trusts you. Oh, save 
 Donough ! " 
 
 Lord Sunderland sighed. " My dear," he 
 said, " I would gladly help you, but you ask 
 the impossible. I have no power to save a 
 traitor. You know as well as I that even the 
 Habeas Corpus Act is suspended on account 
 of that rogue Bernardi and his accomplices; 
 you know the story of the Fenwick attainder. 
 How can you ask me to risk my head and my 
 family reputation for this Irishman ? You 
 fancy you love him, Betty, but 'tis only 
 your fancy. There are other men as brave," 
 he added, with a smile; " you need not be a 
 widow long." 
 
 Betty sprang to her feet. 
 266
 
 Father and Daughter 
 
 "You, too, insult me and you are my 
 father. Oh, I have no father, then, any more 
 the old, dear memories are but dreams the 
 hand that caressed my childish head can deal 
 me such a blow as this ! Ah, it breaks my 
 heart ! Alas, there is no earthly hope ! " 
 
 Lord Sunderland poured out another cup of 
 chocolate. 
 
 " No," he replied calmly, " not for Clancarty. 
 Really, my dear, I must be firm, I cannot and 
 I will not risk my reputation, perhaps my life, 
 for " he shrugged his shoulders, "a Jacobite 
 rogue." 
 
 She said nothing, but she gave him a look so 
 eloquent that he shrank a little, with all his 
 effrontery, as she turned to leave the room. 
 At the door she paused and waved her hand to 
 him with a gesture of infinite sadness. 
 
 "Farewell, father," she said softly, " farewell ! 
 I loved you I love you still and I forgive 
 you as I pray to be forgiven. I go, your 
 daughter no longer since you disown Clan- 
 carty's wife. I have no home, no father 
 only my husband ! Farewell, farewell ! " 
 
 He heard the low sound of her weeping as 
 she went out, her head bowed and her whole 
 beautiful young figure full of dejection. She 
 felt herself an outcast. 
 267
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 MY LORD OF DEVONSHIRE 
 
 LADY BETTY'S weakness passed. She 
 was too strong, too loving, and too 
 determined by nature, to give way to 
 the tears and sighs of a whining woman. So 
 stern was her face and so resolute that even 
 Alice, with all the old claims of faithful service 
 and affection, dared not offer her any consola- 
 tion save to kiss her hand humbly and sadly. 
 
 " Ah, Alice," she said, " I cannot talk to 
 you. When I was happy I chattered like a 
 magpie ; but now that I feel so much I am 
 tongue-tied ; yet I understand, my girl, I 
 understand." 
 
 " I wish I could help you," Alice said, in 
 tears, " I wish I could do something for you 
 both ! " 
 
 Betty shook her head sadly. " There is no 
 
 one but the king. Ah, Alice, in my careless 
 
 days I have mocked his Dutch accent and his 
 
 Dutch ways but now I go to him as my 
 
 268
 
 My Lord of Devonshire 
 
 one hope under heaven ! How foolish I have 
 been, how heartless ! " 
 
 She would not stay in Leicester House ; she 
 only lingered long enough to select her plainest 
 gown and a cloak and hood, and to take such 
 jewels and money as belonged to her individu- 
 ally, before she and Alice set out, attended by 
 the tireless Sir Edward. Not this time to the 
 Tower, however, but to a mediator who might 
 approach the king with more likelihood of 
 success than any one ; the widow of the 
 martyred Lord Russell. From Sir Edward 
 Mackie, Lady Russell learned that morning 
 the whole story, and her heart was touched by 
 the despair of the young countess, suffering as 
 she had suffered. Though of all women Lady 
 Russell was the last one to sympathize with a 
 Jacobite, yet her compassion moved her to for- 
 give her enemies, and from her Lady Clan- 
 carty might look for more help than from any 
 one, for she was an honored and revered friend 
 of King William's. 
 
 So to Lady Russell's house in Bloomsbury 
 the young Countess of Clancarty directed her 
 steps, and it was on the way thither that they 
 met the coach of my Lord of Devonshire. 
 The great emblazoned coach drawn by four 
 stout Flanders mares, with outriders in crimson 
 269
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 and gold lace, came clattering and rumbling 
 along the street, the men cursing and shouting 
 at the other vehicles that threatened to stop 
 his grace's way. Betty and her escort stood 
 back to escape the mud from the kennel as it 
 passed. 
 
 The news of Spencer's despicable act and of 
 Clancarty's arrest had been spread over the 
 town by the young men at Secretary Vernon's 
 dinner. When his grace saw Lady Clancarty 
 afoot at that early hour, therefore, he ordered 
 his coach to stop and descended with great 
 dignity. 
 
 She did not wait for him to speak, running 
 up to him with an eager face. 
 
 " My lord, my lord," she cried, " I claim 
 your promise at Newmarket. You will help 
 me save my Lord Clancarty." 
 
 Devonshire gracefully kissed her hand. 
 
 "Dear Lady Clancarty," he replied, "I 
 would hesitate only at John the Baptist's head 
 upon a charger! I shall keep my promise. 
 Indeed, 'tis partly kept already, for I have 
 just arranged with my Lords of Ormond and 
 Bedford to go with me to Kensington for your 
 sake. But," the great man paused, glancing 
 at the beautiful face, " my dear child, you 
 would be the best suppliant," he added. 
 270
 
 My Lord of Devonshire 
 
 "I will go," Betty answered, "though, indeed, 
 my lord, I do not know how the king will 
 receive me he is so cold ! And my father " 
 her voice broke at the word ; " Lord Sunder- 
 land will not help me. Sir Edward has sug- 
 gested Lady Russell as an intercessor." 
 
 An expression of surprise passed over 
 Devonshire's face, but it brightened. 
 
 " I know of no one better," he said gravely ; 
 " nay, dear Lady Clancarty, take heart of 
 grace ; your cold king is a merciful one." 
 
 Betty drew a sharp breath. 
 
 " My Lord Clancarty is out of his clemency," 
 she said faintly ; " the Habeas Corpus Act " 
 she could say no more. 
 
 Devonshire looked grave and his eyes 
 met Mackie's significantly, but he took her 
 hand. 
 
 " My child," he said kindly, " you will go 
 in my carriage to Lady Russell's and then I 
 will go to Kensington ; we will not surrender 
 until we are beaten. You are not wont to be 
 faint hearted." 
 
 " I am changed," she replied ; " the old 
 Betty is quite dead, I think, my lord ; now 
 I am only the shadow of Clancarty ; as he 
 suffers so also do I. If I could but see 
 him ! " 
 
 171
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 " I have sent to the Tower," said the duke 
 reassuringly, " and I think I may get a letter 
 for you. Would a word be any comfort ? " 
 
 " Ah, my lord ! " she exclaimed, and kissed 
 his hand impulsively. 
 
 Once in the coach they travelled rapidly ; 
 the duke talking of other things, seeing well 
 enough that her strength was overtaxed. He 
 was still talking when the carriage turned from 
 Little Queen Street and stopped in Bloomsbury 
 Square. He led her by the hand into the 
 presence of Rachel, Lady Russell, his kins- 
 woman by marriage, and Lady Betty never 
 forgot the benevolence of the great man's face, 
 the kindly pressure of his hand, the fatherly 
 interest of his glance, as he walked beside her 
 in the splendid dress he had assumed to go to 
 court. Nor did she forget the sad, sweet dig- 
 nity of the widow who rose to meet them and 
 came forward with such reserve of manner 
 until she saw Lady Betty's face, then she held 
 out both hands, tears glistening in her eyes ; 
 she scarcely courtesied to the duke. 
 
 " My child ! " she exclaimed, " my poor 
 child, I too have suffered so. Ah, my lord, 
 when will the Traitor's Gate close, save on a 
 woman's bleeding heart ? " and she kissed the 
 young countess on brow and cheek.
 
 My Lord of Devonshire 
 
 " My husband," faltered Betty, " you know, 
 dear madam, that he is a Jacobite? " 
 
 " I know it," Lady Russell answered sadly ; 
 " but he is also a brave man and, as I know, 
 the idol of one woman's heart. Alas, my lord," 
 she added gravely to Devonshire, " do you 
 love us well enough to make amends for the 
 broken hearts the faithful broken hearts?" 
 
 His Grace of Devonshire only bowed his 
 head while the elder sufferer clasped the younger 
 in her arms and caressed her, speaking kind 
 and soothing words, like a mother to the 
 daughter of her heart. A moment later, when 
 she glanced an inquiry at him over Betty's 
 head, he shook his gravely, framing " no " with 
 his lips, for he had no hope, or next to none. 
 So he told young Mackie as they left the house 
 together. 
 
 " Poor young creature," said his grace gravely, 
 " she shall command my utmost endeavors ; 
 Spencer is a cold-hearted rogue and her 
 father ! " the duke shrugged his shoulders ; "as 
 for Clancarty, he 's more likely to be made an 
 example than an exception." 
 
 "He's a brave man, your grace," said 
 Mackie generously, " and there are many of 
 his persuasion." 
 
 " A poor philosophy, my boy," replied the 
 18 273
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 duke ; " this fellow is notorious, besides. Do 
 you know his history ? " 
 
 " No," said Mackie sadly, " I see only her 
 agony." 
 
 " It was Ormond who introduced him to 
 her at Newmarket, and I suspect that his 
 grace knew who * Mr. Trevor' really was, 
 though he does n't admit it. But I believe she 
 divined it at once. Clancarty has a history," 
 his grace went on ; " he was bred a Protestant, 
 but when he went back to Ireland, in the late 
 king's time, he fell in with Papist kinsfolk and 
 it served his turn at court to be a Papist, so 
 my young lord turned his coat ; a wild rogue, 
 sir, let me tell you, yet this young girl loves 
 him ! He sat in the Celtic Parliament at 
 King's Inns, a very pretty recommendation 
 to King William, he commanded a regiment 
 in King James's army and was taken by Marl- 
 borough, but succeeded in getting off. The 
 estates of Clancarty they are held to be 
 worth ten thousand a year are confiscated, and 
 you know who has the greater share ? " added 
 the duke significantly, " my Lord Woodstock. 
 William will not despoil his Dutch favorites 
 for a Jacobite." 
 
 Young Mackie's face was grave. 
 
 " She asks only for his life," he said, " and she
 
 My Lord of Devonshire 
 
 pleads so eloquently that I think no man but 
 one of stone can refuse her." 
 
 Devonshire smiled broadly. 
 
 " Not you, at least, my dear sir," he replied, 
 "if my eyes mistake not." 
 
 The young man turned crimson. 
 
 "Your grace," he said, "I do confess it; 
 but I have seen her so like an angel in her de- 
 votion, so forgetful of all but him, that, loving 
 her, I would risk my life to give him back to 
 her."- 
 
 The duke took a pinch of snuff and stood 
 tapping the jewelled lid of the box thoughtfully. 
 
 "A very pretty sentiment, Sir Edward," he 
 said genially, " and I honor you for it. By 
 my faith, I would not risk my own heart 
 against her tears, or her smiles, either," he added 
 smiling, " though you need not mention it. But 
 I have small hope, sir, small hope ; the king 
 has been, as we know, over merciful and fostered 
 rebellion at his very door. What is it the 
 great bard says? 
 
 " ' What doth cherish weeds but gentle air ? 
 
 And what make robbers bold but too much lenity ? ' 
 
 And at this time, after the recent troubles, 
 his majesty is not like to be advised to mercy," 
 and his grace shook his head ; " there is but 
 little hope!"
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 LADY RUSSELL 
 
 IT happened that Lady Russell advised 
 delay in the appeal to the king ; she 
 wished to wait for the results of the inter- 
 view between his majesty and the three dukes. 
 Surely no fair woman ever won greater media- 
 tors as quickly as did poor Lady Betty. 
 
 Lady Russell hoped little, however, from 
 their efforts, though she said not a word of 
 this to the distracted young wife but, instead, 
 pointed out the advantages of waiting until 
 they could appeal to William quite alone as 
 two women in distress and with no connec- 
 tion with any political embroglio. Indeed, the 
 older woman knew the king well enough to be 
 sure that his heart might be touched by a 
 woman's grief, though in affairs of state he 
 could be adamant. In spite of Betty's impa- 
 tience and misery, they waited, and Devonshire, 
 Ormond, and Bedford, two great English peers 
 and the greatest Irish one, went up to Kensing- 
 ton to save one young woman's heart from 
 276
 
 Lady Russell 
 
 breaking, caring little enough for the Jacobite 
 earl himself. 
 
 It was during this season of delay, when 
 despair and hope were mingled, that one of 
 Devonshire's gentlemen brought a packet from 
 the Tower and gave it to Lady Clancarty with 
 much elaborate courtesy. And she? She 
 fled with it to her room Lady Russell had 
 insisted upon keeping her under her own roof 
 and she kissed and wept over it, before she 
 opened it, although she knew that the Gov- 
 ernor of the Tower had read it all before her, 
 hard necessity ! 
 
 It contained a ring, a letter, and the dried 
 sprig of shamrock, and her eyes were half 
 blinded with tears as she tried to read. 
 
 " My own dear wife," it ran, " a gentleman 
 from my Lord of Devonshire has just been 
 with me and has told me of your noble devo- 
 tion to me in this dark hour, of your efforts in 
 my behalf. Dear heart, dear heart, how can I 
 write all I feel, or tell my gratitude to the 
 great duke for befriending you ? To tell the 
 truth, I have little hope that my pardon can 
 be obtained, but I do hope and pray to see you 
 once more ! Ah, the separation, Betty, I did 
 not know how hard it would be to bear 
 doubly hard now that I know you suffer, too. 
 277
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 Bear up, brave heart, under the despair also ; 
 indeed, I know you will, for my sake, and 
 afterwards you will go to see my mother, 
 who is, I know, broken hearted and you 
 will comfort her for me. Ah, I did not mean 
 to write to you sadly, sweetheart, but the loss 
 of you drives me to distraction. I see you 
 constantly as you looked unconscious in my 
 arms, and it wrings my heart. Dear love, I 
 send you my ring and our bit of shamrock, 
 and I will not believe that I shall not see you 
 again 't would be too cruel. 
 
 " Dear heart, sweet wife, farewell ! " 
 Poor Lady Betty, she wept over it and 
 caressed it like a living thing, for he had 
 touched it ; and she hid the shamrock and 
 the ring in her bosom. 
 
 In this distracted state she waited forty- 
 eight hours longer, until she knew that the 
 three dukes had obtained no definite promise 
 from the king and that the Earl of Sunderland, 
 who was supposed to command his majesty's 
 ear, was proclaiming everywhere his approval 
 of Spencer's deed. The cloud grew darker 
 rather than brighter, and in her agony she 
 would have gone alone to Kensington, for 
 Lady Russell's caution seemed to her only 
 distracting delay. 
 
 278
 
 However, the older woman only lingered to 
 take her steps more surely. She drew up, 
 with Devonshire's help, a formal petition to 
 the king, not trusting to any verbal or inter- 
 rupted statement of the case, and at last, just 
 when the young countess was reduced almost 
 to madness, she signified her readiness to 
 accompany her to court. 
 
 The king was at Kensington and the two 
 set out, a little before noon, in Lady Russell's 
 carriage, for the palace. Betty had worn her 
 heart out with grief and impatience ; she had 
 not slept and she had scarcely tasted food, 
 except under compulsion, and was a shadow 
 of herself but still a beautiful one. Lady 
 Russell knew intuitively all that the younger 
 woman had suffered, and when they were in 
 the carriage, she laid her hand gently over 
 Betty's. 
 
 " My dear," she said, " I know how cruel 
 this delay has seemed, but, believe me, 't was for 
 the best. Our appeal must be quite distinct 
 from that of the three dukes, and it must be 
 only from our hearts as two desolate women." 
 
 Betty forced herself to speak with com- 
 posure. 
 
 " You know the king, madam," she said, 
 " and I do not or, at least, only slightly and, 
 
 279
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 alas, he has ever seemed cold to me and un- 
 approachable." 
 
 " You truly do not know him," Lady Russell 
 rejoined gently ; " I do not think, dear Lady 
 Clancarty, that a great man is ever heartless, 
 and this man is great." 
 
 Betty, who looked at the Dutch king with 
 thoroughly English eyes, raised her brows ex- 
 pressively but said nothing. 
 
 " Yes," continued the older woman, looking 
 thoughtfully out of the carriage window, " after 
 awhile the English people will do him justice. 
 What other man could have held the coalition 
 of European powers together against France? 
 or could have raised England from the deg- 
 radation into which his uncles had plunged 
 her to her present dignity?" 
 
 Lady Betty sighed wearily; her heart was 
 in the Tower. 
 
 " I know that I have heard him called the 
 arbiter of Europe," she replied, " but he is so 
 very Dutch, dear Lady Russell, and so stern 
 and cold in his way." 
 
 "Not cold," said Lady Russell, "but merci- 
 ful. His uncle James was cold look at 
 the pleading of Monmouth, 'twould have 
 moved a heart of stone and Charles was 
 often cruel." 
 
 280
 
 Lady Russell 
 
 " Alas ! King William may turn as deaf an 
 ear to me," cried the young countess, with a 
 quivering voice; "was ever fate more cruel? 
 If he is beheaded I shall die ! " 
 
 Lady Russell said nothing, but gave her so 
 eloquent a look that Betty broke down. 
 
 " Forgive me! " she cried, " oh, forgive me i 
 How selfish grief makes us; I forgot " 
 
 " I lived," said the widow quietly. 
 
 Betty fell to weeping silently. 
 
 " 'T would be worse to live! " she moaned. 
 
 " It is worse," retorted Lady Russell ; "grief 
 eats into the heart like a canker; but I lived 
 for his son !" 
 
 Betty's head went lower down ; sobs shook 
 her from head to foot. The older woman put 
 her arm around her. 
 
 " I know," she said, " I know, but we are 
 going to a great man a great king. Dear 
 child, let us hope. You do not know King 
 William. Melancholy and personal misfortunes 
 seem to be wrapped in the birthright of the 
 Stuarts, but, ah, my dear, this man is descended 
 also from the house of that great prince who 
 set Holland free. Mercy belongs, of right, to 
 mighty princes." 
 
 " I love a great man," said Betty, drying 
 her tears. 
 
 281
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 " So do all women," replied Lady Russell ; 
 " it is born in us ; we do not love littleness 
 or weakness. This is a very solemn matter 
 and we may not judge the king, or judge for 
 him." 
 
 Lady Clancarty did not reply, she could not ; 
 she was struggling to conquer her emotions, 
 to prepare herself for the coming interview, 
 and Lady Russell took her hand and held it 
 in silent sympathy. 
 
 The agony of that hour of suspense was 
 almost too much to bear; her husband's life 
 hanging in the balance, at the will of this stern, 
 silent man ; this man who seemed to her as 
 he did to many of the English, an unsympa- 
 thetic, phlegmatic Dutchman an alien in the 
 land. 
 
 "Yonder is the palace," remarked Lady 
 Russell, in a strangely quiet voice, though her 
 hand clasped tightly over Betty's. 
 
 They both looked out on the palace and the 
 green before it, the barrack buildings and the 
 gates, at which a dozen or more emblazoned 
 coaches waited, and they could see the sun 
 flash on the arms of the guards within and 
 without the gates. 
 
 The girl drew her breath sharply ; she shook 
 from head to foot. 
 
 282
 
 Lady Russell 
 
 "Ah, madam," she cried wildly, "if he says 
 
 c I 
 
 * no ! 
 
 Lady Russell bowed her head, her lips 
 moved ; her thoughts went back to the dread- 
 ful days of the Rye House Plot; she thought 
 of herself beside her husband at his trial, of his 
 last hours ; she seemed to see him in the coach, 
 driven almost past his home on his way to die 
 in Lincoln's Inn Fields. She shuddered, too, 
 but in a moment her serene sadness returned. 
 
 " We must put our trust in the King of 
 kings," she said gently, clasping her hands and 
 looking upward. 
 
 Betty wept silently; at that moment every 
 hope seemed to die in her heart. 
 
 Meanwhile, the coach rolled heavily and 
 surely as fate itself along the High Street of 
 Kensington, and at last through the palace 
 gates. 
 
 283
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 THE KING 
 
 KENSINGTON PALACE was an of- 
 fence in those days to English eyes. 
 The burning of Whitehall had fur- 
 nished William with the opportunity to es- 
 cape, not only from the air of London, which 
 aggravated his asthma, but also from the crowd 
 of sycophants who choked the galleries of the 
 city palace. Long muddy roads and exorbitant 
 charges for conveyance made it no easy matter 
 for the spendthrift courtier and the needy 
 adventurer to torment the king at Kensington. 
 He was as well pleased at the escape as they 
 were disgruntled ; but even here they could 
 pursue him with annoyances. 
 
 The malcontents in Parliament had stripped 
 him of his beloved Dutch guards, and in their 
 stead the Life Guards saluted at his threshold. 
 It was through a file of these gay gentlemen 
 that Betty passed with Lady Russell, and they 
 stared not a little at the lovely face of the 
 
 284
 
 The King 
 
 young countess, though they received both 
 with every token of respect and courtesy. 
 Lady Russell was, indeed, a well-known and 
 honored guest at the palace, and they were 
 conducted by an officer of the household to 
 the anteroom of the king's presence chamber, 
 there to await his pleasure. 
 
 The long room was already filled with 
 visitors of almost every degree, come upon 
 various errands, and Lady Clancarty found it 
 no light thing to face the ill-disguised curiosity 
 and admiration that assailed her on all sides. 
 
 Here was a peer, in the splendid dress of 
 the court, glittering with jewels and gold lace, 
 curled and perfumed and ruffled ; here a 
 plainly dressed shrewd fellow, with a bundle 
 of papers, a clerk from the foreign office, for 
 the king was his own minister of foreign 
 affairs ; there was a richly dressed magnate of 
 the city, with an eye on the interests of the 
 East India Company ; there an eager applicant 
 for office ; and farther off, a despairing peti- 
 tioner who glanced in open sympathy at Lady 
 Clancarty. 
 
 A king's anteroom ! How many secret 
 histories are written here ; what comedy, 
 what tragedy ! 
 
 The low murmur of talk rose and fell ; 
 285
 
 My Lady Clan car ty 
 
 great ladies, powdered and patched, swept their 
 furbelows through the crowd and swayed their 
 fans, chattering lightly of a hundred things ; 
 great lords bowed and smiled and took snuff 
 and cursed the king, in their hearts, for keeping 
 them waiting. A pair of lovers, two young 
 things, were cooing in a window recess, as 
 indifferent to the public as a pair of turtle- 
 doves, and Betty looked at them with dull 
 eyes. The wait seemed to be for hours, and 
 the heated atmosphere and the flutter of talk 
 almost suffocated her. She looked up and 
 saw the door open and her father coming out 
 of the king's closet, pleased, smiling, courteous 
 to all, greeting them right and left, bowing 
 here, extending a hand there. Betty felt that 
 he saw her, but he averted his face and she 
 stepped back into the window recess near at 
 hand and opened the sash ; she could not 
 breathe. While she stood there his Grace of 
 Devonshire came up and had a few words 
 with Lady Russell. 
 
 " Is there any hope ? " her ladyship asked 
 sadly, with a meaning glance aside at the 
 young figure in its plain black garb. 
 
 His grace shook his head. 
 
 "I see none," he replied, very low; "there 
 has been such a demand for examples ; the 
 
 286
 
 The King 
 
 people are so tired of these conspiracies, and 
 they are like to class Clancarty with the worst. 
 You know the king, that reserve of his betrays 
 nothing, but I think I never saw him less 
 inclined to mercy." 
 
 Lady Russell's face became intensely grave. 
 
 " I shall do all I can," she said, " my ut- 
 most. Poor young thing, her heart is 
 breaking ! " 
 
 The duke cast a look of deep concern 
 toward Lady Clancarty and shook his head 
 again. The next moment he smiled, as she 
 turned to them, smiled and kissed her hand as 
 an open sign of his sympathy and support. 
 She said nothing ; she only looked searchingly 
 into his eyes and her lips quivered. Would it 
 be much longer? 
 
 The talk rose and fell ; some woman 
 laughed, the shallow cackling laugh that comes 
 from the empty heart and the empty head ; 
 the crackling of thorns under a pot. 
 
 An usher bowed before Lady Russell and 
 she held out her hand to Betty. The duke 
 smiled again reassuringly ; and the two women 
 walked slowly through the throng, passed in 
 at a low doorway, and in a moment there was 
 stillness. 
 
 They had entered a low-ceiled room, lighted 
 287
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 by one large window ; it was plainly but richly 
 furnished and near a table strewn with papers 
 stood a small, thin man. He was dressed in 
 black velvet, with a ruffled cravat of Mechlin 
 and a star on his breast ; he wore a great curled 
 periwig. Insignificant in size but with a won- 
 derful majesty of bearing ; the king of three 
 kingdoms and the stadt-holder of Hollander 
 William of Orange. 
 
 As they entered he turned and stood look- 
 ing at them. His complexion was a clear, pale 
 olive ; his eagle nose and brilliant eyes imme- 
 diately commanding attention, with something, 
 too, in the cold majesty of his mien and the 
 habitual sadness of his expression. His face, 
 narrow at the chin, expanded widely at the 
 brows, and his glance was singularly luminous. 
 His eyes a clear hazel, with a depth to them 
 like the clear brown of some mountain pool 
 undisturbed by any ripple upon the surface, 
 deep and transparent ; his thin figure was 
 inclined to stoop, and he had a racking cough, 
 left behind by smallpox. 
 
 He greeted Lady Russell and the young 
 countess with perfect courtesy, but his reserve 
 remained as icy as ever, and like a cloak about 
 him ; warm-hearted Betty shivered, stricken 
 silent. 
 
 288
 
 The King 
 
 " Sire, we come to you as humble suppli- 
 ants," Lady Russell said, " to pray you to 
 graciously receive our petition. I need not 
 tell your majesty that this is Lord Sunderland's 
 daughter, the unhappy wife of the Earl of 
 Clancarty." 
 
 " My Lords of Devonshire and Ormond 
 have already told me," the king said, coughing 
 a little as he cast a thoughtful look at the young 
 countess ; " I am sorry," he added, " that it 
 is so." 
 
 " Ah, sire, have mercy on us both," mur- 
 mured Lady Betty, finding her tongue at last ; 
 " to you belongs the glory of mercy. Spare 
 him, your majesty, he came here only to see 
 me to see his wife." 
 
 The king did not reply, but took the petition 
 from Lady Russell and laid it on the table. 
 
 " Let me plead for her, sire," said the widow 
 gently, " I need not remind your majesty that 
 I have suffered as she is suffering. I knelt to 
 plead for life to King Charles, as she kneels 
 now to King William, and I knelt in vain. 
 They carried my husband almost past his 
 own home to his death and I ah, my 
 king, I lived ! That is the terror of it, and 
 the cruelty ; you cannot divine it, 't is 
 martyrdom ! " the widow's voice was shaken 
 19 289
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 by the agony of recollection and for the mo- 
 ment she could say no more. " I pray you 
 humbly, if I have ever served your majesty or 
 deserved well at your hands, to consider our 
 petition. We ask but life all else we leave 
 in your hands. Let us remind you, sire, that 
 of all the qualities that most adorn your gra- 
 cious character that of mercy has ever shone 
 conspicuous, has won the hearts of your 
 people " 
 
 William held up his hand with a bitter smile. 
 
 " Say no more, madam," he interrupted iron- 
 ically ; " 't is not often that I am reminded of 
 my conquest of the hearts of the English 
 people ! " 
 
 Lady Betty threw herself on her knees before 
 him. 
 
 "Sire," she cried, "I pray for mercy for 
 life ! Ah, think, your majesty, the day must 
 come when you, too, will look for mercy and 
 I am sure your pity for us now will comfort 
 you then. I only ask my husband's life 
 his life ! " 
 
 Her voice broke pitifully; how little she 
 could say ! Agony ties the tongue ; she looked 
 up through her tears and wrung her hands 
 together with a gesture of despair, an appeal 
 more eloquent than words. 
 290
 
 The King 
 
 " O gracious sovereign," she murmured 
 faintly, " life life ! That is my cry to you 
 only spare him to me." 
 
 A cough racked the king, and for the mo- 
 ment he was silent. Lady Russell trembled 
 for the effect of the appeal. He raised the 
 countess kindly. 
 
 "My child," he said, "these matters are 
 not always as much at the king's disposal as 
 they seem ; you forget my parliament ; " a dry 
 smile flickered across his face ; " I can make 
 you no unconditional promise until I have 
 considered your petition, and those of others 
 in this matter. Your husband has been a con- 
 spicuous offender, but if I can save him " 
 he broke off, closing his lips tightly, his face 
 singularly stern and sad. 
 
 Betty thought he had yielded and began to 
 pour out her thanks weeping, but the king 
 held up his hand coldly. 
 
 " I can make no unconditional promise," he 
 repeated dryly, " reserve your thanks until 
 there is a certainty but," he added, after a 
 moment's hesitation, " think not hardly here- 
 after of your Dutch king." 
 
 Betty turned crimson and William gave Lady 
 Russell a significant glance. 
 
 " Your husband is an old offender, Lady 
 291
 
 My Lady Clan car ty 
 
 Clancarty," he added, with his rasping little 
 cough ; " he not only fought in Ireland but he 
 sat in that parliament at King's Inns, and there 
 are others who might base a claim for indem- 
 nity upon any clemency that he received. 
 But rest assured," he continued, " that the 
 king has as much feeling as any other man 
 and heavier sorrows." 
 
 He gently and kindly dismissed them, but 
 Betty having gone half way across the room 
 ran back, as impulsive as any child, and 
 kneeling on one knee kissed his hand, and 
 then ran out weeping, as unmindful of etiquette 
 as a country lass. 
 
 On the stairs she looked up through her 
 tears at Lady Russell. 
 
 " I understand you now," she said, deeply 
 moved ; " I felt his greatness he is a king ! 
 But, oh, will he be merciful ? will he spare 
 my poor husband ? " 
 
 Lady Russell could not answer; she turned 
 her face aside. She felt that the king had 
 given them so little hope, that his answer had 
 been enigmatical. She took Betty's hand again, 
 but neither of them could speak ; and in silence 
 they went home to the house in Bloomsbury. 
 
 292
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 DONOUGH ! 
 
 iHE night of suspense longer than 
 a year of happiness wore to an end, 
 because all things end. At noon 
 Lady Betty stood in Lady Russell's drawing- 
 room, leaning against the window and looking 
 out, so wan and wasted that her hostess started 
 at the sight of her as she entered. The two 
 women greeted each other with an affection 
 born of sympathy, in spite of their brief 
 acquaintance, and as they stood there with 
 clasped hands, they heard the clatter of hoofs 
 in the street below, a noise at the door, steps 
 on the stair. 
 
 Betty uttered a cry and stood rigid ; it had 
 come, good or ill ! The door was flung open 
 and Devonshire's messenger, plashed with mire 
 from hard riding, bowed at the threshold, hold- 
 ing up a letter. 
 
 " From his grace to Lady Russell," he said. 
 
 Lady Russell tore it open with shaking 
 hands but Betty did not stir ; she stood like 
 293
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 a statue ; she thought her heart had stopped 
 beating. The older woman clasped the paper 
 to her bosom, murmuring a thanksgiving. 
 
 " He is saved ! " she cried joyfully, holding 
 out the letter to Lady Clancarty, " your hus- 
 band is saved ! The king grants his life, but 
 exiles him." 
 
 Lady Betty swayed and would have fallen 
 but for her friend. The good woman caught 
 her in her arms. 
 
 " That merciful king ! " cried Lady Russell, 
 tears streaming down her face ; " ah, if I had 
 been so blessed ! " 
 
 Betty flung her arms around her neck and 
 kissed her. 
 
 " I must go to the Tower ! " she cried 
 eagerly, after a moment, " I may go now." 
 
 " Nay, madam," interposed the duke's mes- 
 senger respectfully, " his grace did especially 
 charge me to beg you to remain here until he 
 came for you." 
 
 " Ay," said Lady Russell, glancing at the 
 letter, " he speaks of it here." 
 
 A shade of deep disappointment crossed the 
 youthful face, but she bowed her head. 
 
 " I shall await the duke's pleasure," she said. 
 
 After the messenger withdrew, Lady Russell 
 touched her friend's frock playfully. 
 294
 
 Donough ! 
 
 "My dear," she remarked, "you will not 
 go to welcome him back to the world in this 
 sombre garb ? " 
 
 Betty glanced down dolefully. 
 
 " I brought no other," she replied. 
 
 Lady Russell smiled and sent for Alice. 
 
 " My child," she said, " I heard this morn- 
 ing that there was strong hope yet I dared 
 not tell you, for fear of disappointment. But 
 I sent Alice for a gayer gown than this for your 
 lover." 
 
 Betty blushed like a rose, for in walked 
 Alice, carrying in her arms the flowered bro- 
 cade that her mistress had worn at Newmarket, 
 and Alice was all smiles and tears. Nothing 
 would do but that Lady Russell and Alice 
 must array her as for a festival. 
 
 " For the Tower ! " protested Betty, be- 
 tween tears and laughter, trembling and listen- 
 ing for a sound. 
 
 " For your husband," whispered Lady Rus- 
 sell, kissing her cheek, " the king has granted 
 you a pension sufficient for you on the Conti- 
 nent alas, that you must go." 
 
 "Ah, but with him," said Lady Betty smil- 
 ing divinely. 
 
 It was while they talked that Alice came by 
 chance upon Denis on the staircase ; Denis was 
 295
 
 My Lady Clancarty 
 
 smiling like a cherub. He stood before her 
 awkwardly. 
 
 " Faix," he said, " I was afther thinking ye 
 a sneak, my darlint, but, shure, I misjudged 
 ye," he paused, shuffling his feet with un- 
 familiar shyness in his aspect, while Alice eyed 
 him with prim disapproval. 
 
 " My darlint," he said, " I 'm afther makin' 
 some aminds fer th* batin' ; will will ye be 
 Mrs. Dinis now? " 
 
 But Alice withered him with a look. 
 
 " There 's no need of ill will, my darlint," 
 he continued nervously ; " faix, I know a man 
 that always bates his wife whin his affection 
 overcomes him." 
 
 " You don't know me ! " exclaimed Alice 
 indignantly, red as a poppy. 
 
 Denis, not a whit abashed, would have 
 caught her hand. 
 
 " There 's nathing in th' wurrld to kape us 
 from gittin' acquainted, me love," he said 
 gallantly. 
 
 " Deliver me from a bloody Papist ! " said 
 Alice piously, escaping up the stair and leaving 
 Denis grinning openly in his relief, for he had 
 contemplated a noble sacrifice of his own 
 feelings. 
 
 Meanwhile Lady Russell and the countess 
 296
 
 Donough I 
 
 had descended to the drawing-room again to 
 await my Lord of Devonshire's arrival. Like 
 a rose, Betty had bloomed out with joy, radiant 
 in her beautiful gown, trembling and impatient. 
 She paced the floor, Lady Russell watching her. 
 
 " Ah," she said, " why can I not go at once 
 to the Tower ? 'T is so hard to wait ! " 
 
 " The duke would go with you," Lady Rus- 
 sell replied quietly, " and it is best so." 
 
 "He has been so good to me to us!" 
 Betty murmured, a break in her voice. 
 
 She was thinking of her father's averted face, 
 her brother's cruelty, her tittering, painted, 
 heartless mother. " He is kinder than my 
 own blood," she said, " he and the king." 
 
 " He remembered even the pension," Lady 
 Russell assented, " that good king ! " 
 
 But Lady Betty scarcely heard her ; she 
 strained her ears to catch far other sounds. 
 The rumble of a heavy coach, the closing of a 
 door, steps in the hall. She fled to the top of 
 the staircase, like a startled bird, and looked 
 down ; through a window beside her the sun 
 shone in. There were many below, my Lord 
 of Devonshire, a stately figure, the Duke of 
 Ormond, young Sir Edward Mackie, half a 
 dozen gentlemen. But she did not see them ; 
 what were they to her ? 
 297
 
 My Lady C lane arty 
 
 She saw a tall figure, a handsome, eager face, 
 as Clancarty sprang up the stairs. 
 
 Lady Betty held out her arms, the sun 
 shining in her face. 
 
 " Donough ! " she cried, " my own true 
 love ! " 
 
 THE END 
 
 298
 
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