Lady Constance

“ All that was slightly grotesque in his outer man, the broad flat head, the red hair, the sharp wedge-like chin, disappeared for Constance in the single impression of his eyes—pale blue, intensely melancholy, and most human.
“Take up some occupation—some study—” he said to her gently. “You won’t be long here; but still, ask us for what we can give. In Oxford one must learn something—or teach something. If not, life here goes sour.”
Constance repeated Sorell’s promise to teach her Greek. ”

“ Pryce. After the madrigal came a general move for refreshments, which were set out in the college library and in the garden. The Lord Chancellor must needs offer his arm to his host’s sister, and lead the way. The Warden followed, with the wife of the Dean of Christ Church, and the hall began to thin. Lord Glaramara looked back, smiling and beckoning to Constance, as though to say—“Don’t altogether desert me!”
But a voice—a tall figure—interposed—
“Lady Constance, let me take you into the garden? It’s much nicer than upstairs.”
A slight shiver ran, unseen, through the girl’s frame. ”

“ But how ridiculous that an unmarried girl should wear them! Yes they are—the Risborough pearls! I saw them once, before I married, on Lady Risborough, at a gorgeous party at the Palazzo Farnese. Well, I hope that girl’s got a trustworthy maid!”
“I dare say Lady Constance values them most because they belonged to her mother!” said Falloden drily.
The lady sitting beside him laughed, and tapped him on the arm.
“Sentimentalist! Don’t you know that girls nowadays—babes in the schoolroom—know the value of everything? Who is she staying with?” ”

“ As they neared the gate, Constance, whose face showed agitation and distress, said abruptly—
“Of course I know I must seem very ungrateful—”
A sound, half bitter, half scornful from Falloden stopped her. She threw her head back defiantly.
“All the same I could be grateful enough, in my own way, if you would let me. But what you don’t understand is that men can’t lord it over women now as they used to do. You say—you”—she stammered a little—“you love me. I don’t know yet—what I feel. I feel many different things. ”

“ But just as she approached the house, she became aware of a slenderly built man in flannels coming out of the gates of St. Cyprian’s, the college of which the gate and outer court stood next door to the Hoopers.
He saw her, stopped with a start of pleasure, and came eagerly towards her.
“Lady Constance! Where have you sprung from? Oh, I know—you are with the Hoopers! Have you been here long?”
They shook hands, and Constance obediently answered the newcomer’s questions. ”

“ She passed through, made a signal to Joseph, and was soon trotting fast towards Oxford.
On that return ride, Constance could not conceal from herself that she was unhappy. Her lips quivered, her eyes had much ado to keep back the onset of tears—now that there was no Falloden to see her, or provoke her. How brightly their ride had begun!—how miserably it had ended! She thought of that first exhilaration; the early sun upon the wood; the dewy scents of moss and tree; Falloden’s face of greeting—“How can you look so fresh! You can’t have slept more than four hours—and here you are! Wonderful! ”

“ Oh, you are not the free, true-hearted girl, that, twelve years ago, leaped upon your native hills to meet the sunshine and the breeze, and often—alas! alas! that it should only have been in mere sportiveness—declared that—but no matter—I see it all, and future Lady of Burrell, bid you farewell and for ever."
Constance replied with tears, yet calmly and firmly: "Walter, be not cruel; or, at least, be not unjust. You were ever impetuous, but also ever ready to repair the evil you had done. It is ill of you to use so harsh a word against one who has never wronged you. ”

“ On the day following Constance’s visit to the Boar’s Hill cottage she wrote to Radowitz:—
“DEAR OTTO,—I am going to ask you not to raise the subject you spoke of yesterday to me again between us. I am afraid I should find my visits a pain instead of a joy, if you did so. And Mrs. Mulholland and I want to come so much—sometimes alone, and sometimes together. We want to be mother and sister as much as we can, and you will let us! We know very well that we are poor painted things compared with real mothers and sisters. Still we should love to do our best—I should—if you’ll let me!” ”

“ Constance turned a little white.
“Why should anybody talk?” she said coldly. “But really, Nora, I must turn you out. I shall ring for Annette.” She raised herself in bed.
“No, no!” Nora caught her hand as it stretched out towards the bell. “Oh, Connie, you shall not fall in love with Mr. Falloden! I should go mad if you did.”
“You are mad already,” said Constance, half laughing, half furious. “I tell you Mr. Falloden is a friend of mine—as other people are. He is very good company, and I won’t have him abused—for nothing. His manners are abominable. I have told him so dozens of times. ”

“ Constance strode nearer, with blazing eyes. The man turned and looked at her, saluting coolly, but he was pale with anger.
"What's the matter? Why is she crying?" demanded Constance, peremptory but a little breathless.
A faint smile like a sneer came on the man's face. "Nay, yo' mun ax 'er," he replied callously, in broad vernacular.
Connie felt as if he had hit her in the face, and she changed colour. Then she gathered her defiance, and looked at him, her dark-blue eyes blazing rather vaguely. ”

“ The men in college got hold of it last night. A man who does that kind of thing runs risks.”
“He was only defending himself!” cried Constance. “He has been ragged, and bullied, and ill-treated—again and again—just because he is a foreigner and unlike the rest of you. And you have been the worst of any—you know you have! And I have begged you to let him alone! And if—if you had really been my friend—you would have done it—only to please me!”
“I happened to be more than your friend!”—said Falloden passionately. ”

“ This King, Alla, was very tender and good, and when he saw Constance standing in the midst of the people, with her frightened eyes looking appealingly from one to another like a wounded deer who is chased to its death, his heart was moved with pity.
The governor and all his people told how Constance had loved the murdered lady, and what holy words she had taught. All except the real murderer, who kept declaring she was the guilty one.
The king asked her, “Have you any champion who could fight for you?” ”

“ Then Connie rose.
“I told the coachman, Aunt Marcia, I should ride for an hour or so after tea. If I take the Lawley road, does that go anywhere near Flood?”
“It takes you to the top of the moor, and you have a glorious view of the castle and all its woods. Yes, do go that way. You’ll see what the poor things have lost. You did like Douglas, didn’t you?”
“‘Like’ is not exactly the word, is it?” said Constance with a little laugh, vexed to feel that she could not keep the colour out of her cheeks. “And he doesn’t care whether you like him or not!” ”

“ Then, said Falloden, it would be for Constance to clinch the matter. No man could do such a thing decently. Pryce would have to be told—”‘The world’s your oyster—but before you open it, you will kindly go and propose to my cousin!—which of course you ought to have done months ago!’”
And so laughing and plotting like a couple of children they had gone rambling through the green rides and glades of the wood, occasionally putting their horses to the gallop, that the pulse of life might run still faster. ”

“ He returned to England a scholar, a soldier, a gallant, a conqueror of female hearts,—in brief, he holds all the requirements of a charming cavalier of King Charles' Court. He has modish habits that so completely masque his strong will and determination that before one is aware they are caught and wound in the meshes of his duplicity. He is a literate, poet and musician."
"Thou dost indeed stir me to great interest, Lady Constance; he must be a wonderful man. It seems we seldom have so many great qualities in one human being. ”

“ A stream, fired with the sunset, ran in loops and windings through the park, and all around the hills rose and fell, clothed with dark hanging woods.
Lady Connie held in her horse, feeding her eyes upon Flood Castle and its woods
Constance held in her horse, feeding her eyes upon the castle and its woods. Her mind, as she looked, was one riot of excuse for Douglas Falloden. She knew very well—her own father had been an instance of it—that a man can be rich and well-born, and still remain modest and kind. But—but—“How hardly shall they that have riches—!” ”

“ The drawing-room party joined them, and the gathering lasted a little longer. Sorell walked up and down with Constance. She liked him increasingly—could not help liking him. And apart from his personal charm, he recalled all sorts of pleasant things and touching memories to her. But he was almost oppressively refined and scrupulous and high-minded. “He is too perfect!” she thought rebelliously. “One can’t be as good as that. It isn’t allowed.”
As to Mrs. Mulholland, Constance felt herself taken possession of—mothered—by that lady. ”

“ He laid a hand on her shoulder, and abruptly asked her whether she thought her Cousin Constance was in love with Douglas Falloden. “Your mother’s always talking to me about it,” he said, with a wearied perplexity.
“I don’t know,” said Nora, frowning. “But I shouldn’t wonder.”
“Then I shall have to make some enquiries,” said Connie’s guardian, with resignation. “She’s a masterful young woman. But she can be very sweet when she likes. ”

“ And in front a tall, long-limbed cavalry officer in the Queen’s household, bowing to Constance Bledlow, as he comes back, breathless and radiant from the race he has just won, his hand tight upon the reins, his athlete’s body swaying to each motion of his horse, his black eyes laughing into hers. Why, she had imagined herself in love with him for a whole week!
Then, suddenly, she perceived that in her absence of mind she was running straight into a trio of undergraduates who were hurriedly stepping off the path to avoid her. They looked at her, and she at them. ”

“ Rushing back, came the proud, resisting sense of personality—of man’s dominance over nature—of the Nietzschean “will to power.” To be strong, to be sufficient to one’s self; not to yield, but to be forever counterattacking circumstance, so as to be the master of circumstance, whatever blows it might choose to strike—that seemed to be the best, the only creed left to him.
When he reached the Scarfedale house, and a gardener had taken his horse, the maid who opened the door told him he would find Lady Constance on the lawn. ”

“ If she loved a man she would stand by him. No, it was something known only to her and himself in all those crowded rooms. As soon as he set eyes on her, the vision of Radowitz’s bleeding hand and prostrate form had emerged in consciousness—a haunting presence, blurring the many-coloured movements of the ballroom.
And yet it was not that maimed hand, either, which stood between himself and Constance. It was rather the spiritual fact behind the visible—that instinct of fierce, tyrannical cruelty which he had felt as he laid his hands on Radowitz in the Oxford dawn a month ago. ”

“ Favouritism was idolatry affectionate words were foolish condescensions to the flesh; while loving caresses savoured altogether of the evil one.
Now Constance liked dearly both to pet and to be petted. She loved, as she hated, intensely. The calm, sedate personal regard, in consideration of the meritorious qualities of the individual in question, which the Lady Le Despenser termed love, was not love at all in the eyes of Constance. ”

“ Sorell was talking with the ex-scout in the dining-room, impressing on him certain medical directions. Radowitz suddenly felt himself singularly forlorn, and deserted. Of course, Falloden and Constance would marry. He always knew it. He would have served to keep them together, and give them opportunities of meeting, when they might have easily drifted entirely apart. He laughed to himself as he thought of Connie’s impassioned cry—“I shall never, never, marry him!” Such are the vows of women. She would marry him; and then what would he, Otto, matter to her or to Falloden any longer? ”

“ Alice said—“Of course! And especially when Constance dresses so extravagantly!” she added bitterly. “One can’t look like her scullery-maid!”
Mrs. Hooper sighed. She glanced round her to see that the door was shut.
“That silly child, Nora, had quite a scene with Connie this morning, because Connie offered to give her that pretty white dress in Brandon’s window. She told me Connie had insulted her. Such nonsense! Why shouldn’t Connie give her a dress—and you too? She has more money than she knows how to spend.” ”

“ Sorell missed it. Ella Risborough’s sympathetic charm had replaced it, but with suggestions of hidden conflict and suffering, of which Lady Risborough’s bright sweetness had known nothing. It was borne in upon him that, since her arrival in Oxford, Constance had gone through a great deal, and gone through it alone. For after all what had his efforts amounted to? What can a man friend do for a young girl in the fermenting years of her youth! And when the man friend knows very well that, but for an iron force upon himself, he himself would be among her lovers? ”

“ Constance, therefore, loved Lady Erpingham with sincere and earnest warmth, and endeavoured to forget all the commonplaces and littlenesses which made up the mind of her protectress, and which, otherwise, would have been precisely of that nature to which one like Constance would have been the least indulgent. ”