Lady Jean

“ Lady Jean sits alone in her boudoir. Her guests have all gone. A flush of excitement burns on her cheek, her eyes look triumphant.
"Victory at last!" she murmurs to herself. "When she hears he is dead, and has met his death through my instrumentality, I think she will know that I too can avenge insult. I have taken her husband and her lover from her. I said my hour would come. It has come."
There is a stir, a noise of footsteps without. The door is thrust hurriedly open, and Count Karolyski comes in. Involuntarily Lady Jean rises. She is annoyed and troubled, and a little afraid. ”

“ But even in nursery tales Lady Jean could find examples which justified her own passion. The vilest animals, she knew, on finding some beautiful dame, who was so disinterested as to fall in love with them, usually turned out to be the most beautiful princes that ever were seen, and invariably married and made happy the ladies whose affection had restored them to their natural form and just inheritance. Who knows, she thought, but Richard may some day, in a transport of passion, throw open his coat, exhibit the star of nobility glittering on his breast, and ask me to become a countess? ”

“ During the long period, while youth was slipping from her, Lady Jean appears to have lived alone at Drumsheugh House, near Edinburgh, where she made herself highly popular by her affability, admired for her gifts and graces of mind, and courted for her rank and her lavish hospitality—paying occasional visits to her brother, the Duke of Douglas, whose devotion to her was only equalled by the alarm his eccentric behaviour and his mad fits of jealousy and temper inspired in her. ”

“ She rises from her seat as she speaks and goes towards the other end of the room, where the Lady Jean sits radiant and entertaining, being one of the few wise women who take as much pains to conciliate their own sex, as to charm the other. ”

“ This is a woman full grown, not in stature only, but in character, of high ambition, of warm passion, of resolute will and clear mind, who is fit to be the mate for a patriot, in which case she would be ready to accompany him to the scaffold, or for a soldier, in which case she would send him to his death with a proud heart. Her mobile face, as flexible as that of a supreme actress, is set and hard when she enters the gallery, for she and her mother had just crossed swords, and Lady Jean knew for what end she had been asked to meet the Covenanter. ”

“ Said he was going away to some foreign place or another."
"He has not gone!" says Lady Jean tranquilly. "I won't mind an even bet of a cool thou' on that point, Frank. While England holds Lauraine, it will hold Keith Athelstone. Of that I am quite convinced."
"I think you mistake her," says Sir Francis coldly.
"She is human, and she loves," answers Lady Jean. "Of course she is of a much higher type than ordinary women—cast in a nobler mould, and all that. But still——" She pauses meaningly. Sir Francis moves with sudden impatience. "Why talk of her?" he says. "You know I hate her." ”

“ Lady Jean laughs. "My flattery is quite sincere. I really admire her very much. She is a little too grave and serious, perhaps, but that is a fault on the right side. There is too much fastness and vulgarity in society nowadays. A quiet woman is quite refreshing." ”

“ Take a sword, and you may one day become as great a hero as some of your ancestors." Then, but a few moments before drawing her last breath, she said to those around her: "As one who is soon to appear in the presence of Almighty God, to whom I must answer, I declare that the two children were born of my body." Thus passed "beyond these voices" a woman, who, whatever her faults, carried a brave heart through sorrows and trials which might well have crushed the proudest spirit.
Lady Jean's death probably did more to advance her son's cause than all her scheming and courage during life. ”

“ She saw things as she wanted them to be—Derry at odds with his father; married to Jean; herself mistress of this great house, wearing the diamond crown and the pearl collar; her portrait in the place of the one of the painted lady on the stairs; looking down on little Jean who had judged her by youth's narrow standards—whose husband would have no fortune unless he chose to accept it at her hands.
Thus she weighed her influence over the sleeping sick man, thus she dreamed, calm as fate in her white uniform. ”

“ In his present mood gaiety and fastness would have jarred upon, and disgusted him. As it is, all is toned down, chastened, soothing, and in perfect taste. He comes again, and yet again. Lady Jean keeps the foreigners, and shady adventurers, and the Bohemian element carefully out of his sight, and she herself treats him with that consideration and deference always flattering to a young man's feeling when displayed by a woman older than himself, and still beautiful. She mentions the Vavasours casually, Lauraine as being immersed in worldly gaieties. Sir Francis as being abroad at Monte Carlo. ”

“ The light of the lamp revealed his clearly chiselled features, and the threads of gray in his hair. Suddenly, in a a flash, there came to me a strange thought—here was a man to be loved, to be loved of woman. "Dear Jean, he had called her, "dear Jean." ”

“ Lady John (turning and seeing Jean. Rising hastily) . If it's here, it is the fault of those women agitators.
Miss L. (gently) . No woman begins that way. (Leans forward with clasped hands looking into vacancy.) Every woman's in a state of natural subjection (smiles at Jean) —no, I'd rather say allegiance to her idea of romance and her hope of motherhood. They're embodied for her in man. They're the strongest things in life—till man kills them. ”

“ As this lady was already laboring for the colonization of Montreal she took a lively interest in Jean, retaining her for some time as a confidential attendant in her own household. In this capacity the Duchess could not but admire the special designs of God, manifested in her well-formed habits of virtue. She encouraged her to go with the volunteers to the New World, and remain faithful to her vocation. ”

“ I could see them all over Jean’s shoulder: a grey-haired lady knitting with stiff fingers, an old gentleman with a high nose and a weak chin sitting in a big carved armchair and looking more like a portrait than the portraits; a pretty girl at his feet, with a dog’s head in her lap, and another girl, who had a Red Cross on her sleeve, at the table with a book. ”

“ He asks constantly for you. Come at once."
When Lady Jean is once more alone she reads the message with a contemptuous laugh.
"He must be mad," she says. "I to run the risk of infection—I to turn sick-nurse! I to run the gauntlet of scandal and discussion for—him! Pshaw! if he wants a ministering angel, let him send to Lauraine. It is her metier, not mine." Then she goes to her writing-table and takes pen and ink and writes these lines:
"Your husband is dangerously ill. ”

“ I think of the nail and chain [288] makers of Cradley Heath, the sweated girls of the slums; I think,' her voice fell, 'of the army of ill-used women, whose very existence I mustn't mention——'
Lady John interrupted her hurriedly. 'Then why in heaven's name do you let poor Jean imagine——'
Vida suddenly bent forward. 'Look—I'll trust you, Lady John. I don't suffer from that old wrong as Jean thinks I do, but I shall coin her sympathy into gold for a greater cause than mine.'
'I don't understand you.'
'Jean isn't old enough to be able to care as much about a principle as about a person. ”

“ Lady John (to Miss Levering) . Sit over there, my dear. (Indicating chair in front of writing-table.) You needn't stay, Jean. This won't interest you.
Miss L. (in the tone of one agreeing) . It's only an effort to meet the greatest evil in the world?
Jean (pausing as she's following the others) . What do you call the greatest evil in the world? (Looks pass between Mrs. Heriot and Lady John.)
Miss L. (without emphasis) . The helplessness of women.
(Jean stands still.)
Lady John (rising and putting her arm about the girl's shoulder) . ”

“ Jean, or rather Jeanne, it is said, was a beautiful young French lady, in Paris or elsewhere loved and left by a wicked Baronet of Allanbank, Sir Robert Stuart. The tale is some hundreds of years old, but "Pearlin Jean" and her pathetic story still retain their hold on the imagination of Border folk. The legend goes that when the false lover, after a violent scene, deserted his bride that should have been, the poor lady accidentally met her death, but not before she had vowed that she would "be in Scotland before him." ”

“ Jean. In our debt?
Miss L. In debt to women. He can't repay the one he robbed——
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Jean (wincing and rising from her knees) . Yes, yes.
Miss L. (sternly) . No, he can't repay the dead. But there are the living. There are the thousands with hope still in their hearts and youth in their blood. Let him help them. Let him be a Friend to Women.
Jean (rising on a wave of enthusiasm) . Yes, yes—I understand. That too!
(The door opens. As Stonor enters with Lady John, he makes a slight gesture towards the two as much as to say, "You see.") ”

“ Dame Lilias here interposed. With a certain conviction that Jean’s dislike to the King was chiefly because the grapes were sour, she declared that Lady Elleen had by no means gone beyond the demeanour of a douce maiden, and that the King had only shown due attention to guests of his own rank, and who were nearly of his own age. In fact, she said, it might be his caution and loyalty to his espoused lady that made him avoid distinguishing the fairest. ”

“ But ye shorely can't live yere alone no more for a while, Miss Jean. 'T ain't no laughing matter, far as I can see. De sojers was yere most ebery day, an' blame me if I can see which side was de worst, de Yanks or de Confeds. Dey steal, an' dey git drunk, an' dey fight, an' it wan't no fit place no longer fer any young gal to be all alone by herse'f, wid no one but an ol' nigger to look after her. ”

“ Convinced by the expression on her face, not only that she knew the truth but that I was upon the right trail, I started toward the rear of the hall, never glancing behind, yet aware that Miss Jean was following. In appearance it was a strange, old-fashioned fireplace, nothing more; large enough to contain a great back log, and overshadowed by a huge mantel. ”

“ I have taught her as the bon Dieu has shown me the way to teach her to be a true daughter of France—to love God and be never afraid. Jean"—he reached out his other hand suddenly and clasped it over Jean's—"do you love Marie-Louise?"
"Yes," said Jean simply.
"She will be alone now," said Gaston, and his eyes filled. "She is a good girl, Jean. She is pure and innocent, and her heart is so full of love, there was never such love as hers, and she is so gay and bright like the flowers and like the birds—and happy—and sorrow has not come to her." ”

“ She walked silently. Jean saw that memory had not played him false: her beauty, her grace, were no freak of his imagination; would the holy father now say that she was a devil, while thus she moved in her loveliness, a woman to be loved and worshipped!—a very woman, too! not above the cares of life! Seating herself by the spring she despatched her companion on an errand to supply domestic wants, promising to await her return.
Jean's principal characteristic was rapid resolution: he reasoned that a small alarm might make the girl fly; that his chance of retaining her was an overpowering shock. ”

“ If mademoiselle would not believe her, the shame would be Jean's too, and the guilt that mademoiselle imagined would be Jean's guilt too. And even if she must tell all about Father Anton bringing her to Hector and Madame Mi-mi, she must make mademoiselle believe. "Mademoiselle"—she was pleading now, her voice choking as she spoke—"mademoiselle, see—listen! You must—you must believe! It is true, every word I have said is true! And it is true that I love Jean, and that that is why I came, but—but Jean has never seen me since that day he left Bernay-sur-Mer. ”

“ I am only an ignoramus, my lad, but I am your father. Now listen; I want to have a word of explanation with you, so that from this day on till I go to where your dear mother is we can look each other calmly in the face and understand one another at the first glance. Your mother loved you right well, Jean. There's not a gold mine in the world could give a notion of the wealth of affection that woman possessed. From the first moment you saw the light, she lived, so to say, more in you than in herself. Her love was stronger than she could bear. ”

“ Nonsense, a boy would never do for Jean. Although she looks such a child, she is a woman, and a woman with a brain. Otherwise she would never do for you. You would tire of a doll in a week, no matter how curly the hair or flawless the complexion.... You realise, of course, that Jean is an uncompromising little Puritan? Mercy is as plain as bread and honour is as hard as stone to Jean—but she has a wide tolerance for sinners. I can imagine it won't always be easy to be Jean's husband. ”

“ The laces of the white peignoir, the muslin of the frilled cushion showed out in almost startling beauty the dark mist of hair; the exquisitely flushed cheeks, dark brows, and curling lashes gave a deepened shade to the violet blue of the eyes. The rich brunette colouring had a somewhat un-English aspect, yet there was not a drop of foreign blood in the girl’s veins—she was Irish “all through, except my mother, who was Scotch,” as she herself was accustomed to describe her lineage. The contour of her face was oval, the profile showed the delicate fineness of a cameo. Happy Jean! ”