From an Act t 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT OT 
 
 California State Library 
 
 SECTION 11. ' |oks 
 
 issued and return lire, 
 
 or its officers, sh: pon 
 
 injure or fail to re knd 
 
 pay to the Librar . ~^ inncs TCe value 
 
 thereof; and befo-^-cxro xruntroller shall issue his warrant in favor of any 
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 ance, or salary, he shall be satisfied that such member or officer has returned 
 all books taken out of the Library by him, and has settled all accounts for 
 injuring such books or otherwise. 
 
 SEC. 15. Books may be taken from the Library by the members of the 
 Legislature and its officers during the session of the same, and at any time 
 by the Governor and the officers of the Executive Department of this State 
 who are required to keep their offices at the seat of government, the Justices 
 of the Supreme Court, the Attorney-General, and the Trustees of the Library.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. \ 
 
 V 
 
 A STORY OF THE 
 
 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 BY H. F. P. 
 
 $ 
 
 8 
 
 00 
 
 NEW YOKE: 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER & COMPANY. 
 1869.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, ia the year 1863, by 
 
 CHARLES SCEIBNER & CO., 
 
 In the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of 
 New York. 
 
 THE TROW & SMITH 
 
 BOOK MANUFACTURING COMPANY, 
 
 46, 48. 50 GREENE ST., N. T.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 I. 
 
 IN the great family room of Burgomaster Zwal- 
 ler's house, in ISTew Amsterdam, were two guests 
 whose arrival from the Old World was an event of 
 interest in the gossipy little town. One was an 
 elderly woman, portly and pillowy in figure; the 
 other a young girl whose sweetness and grace were 
 more impressive, even, than the delicacy and refine 
 ment of her features. Dame Zwaller's interest in the 
 latter was heightened by the fact that she had lost 
 both father and mother, and had just ventured across 
 the sea to accept a home with her father's favorite 
 sister, to whose care he had commended her Lady 
 Deborah Moody, of Long Island. 
 
 Sitting in the bright firelight, on the opposite side 
 of the wide hearth, was Burgomaster Zwaller; his 
 large red nose and folded chin showing how well he 
 loved good cheer, and his kind voice and smile win 
 ning now, as always, the good will of strangers. A 
 red skull-cap, a plaited cue, a short, loose jacket, and 
 frieze short-clothes, conspired to make his rotund 
 figure as broad as it was long. 
 
 The adornments of the room in which this master 
 of the house sat, were no less quaint than himself. 
 

 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 The floor was white as new pine, and sanded in 
 hieroglyphical figures, which the English girl was in 
 constant danger of brushing out with the long sweep 
 of her dress. The whitewashed walls were zigzagged 
 with a dye as blue as Dame Zwaller's new stockings. 
 A dresser stood at one end of the room, every shelf 
 of which was filled with rows of shining dishes and 
 polished pewter cups. The uppermost displayed a set 
 of Delft china, used only on state occasions. It had 
 long been the provoker of many envious and ill- 
 natured speeches at the expense of the proud house 
 wife. A tall clock, pictured with the sun and moon, 
 majestically ticked in the corner, and a spinning- 
 wheel stood idle before the narrow window. Over 
 the door two rifles were crossed, within ready reach ; 
 and above the high mantel hung a huge bow, which 
 had been obtained from an Indian chief for a string 
 of buttons. Two pewter candle-holders, as bright as 
 silver, shone upon the mantel, and sundry small 
 doors, fastened by wooden buttons, varied the bare 
 ness of the great chimney wall, besides serving as 
 hiding-places for whatever was uncouth in the neat 
 dame's eyes. Two iron-bound chests, one of which 
 contained the burgomaster's papers and books (the 
 contents of the other, even Yrow Yan "Weil, who 
 came once a week to gossip, could not find out), 
 together with several broad-seated oak chairs, and a 
 claw-footed table, curiously carved, completed the 
 furniture of the family room of the finest house in 
 New Amsterdam, except the Governor's. 
 
 Tall Dame Zwaller, who presided here with broom
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 5 
 
 and brush, continually went to and fro, busy with 
 household cares. A bunch of keys jingled at her side, 
 and a pair of scissors swung from her apron-strings. 
 Her voice was nervous and decisive in the frequent 
 commands given to old black Mabel or young Minxey, 
 whose round of laborious scouring and polishing knew 
 no end. The voice softened when it spoke to plump, 
 apple-cheeked Barbara, the only and most precious 
 daughter. She was a happy soul, like her father, not 
 seeing at all the vital need of making a shining sun 
 of every pewter cup, or of pursuing spiders to the 
 death, or of devoting all the spare moments of her 
 life to knitting long stockings. She sat now by her 
 father, demure and pretty, with her dark hair nearly 
 hidden under a close-fitting, blue, quilted cap, and 
 her round form snugly laced in a red bodice. The 
 short petticoat disdained to hide the goodly size of 
 her foot, of which she neither thought or cared, so 
 long as the Holland shoe fitted well. One felt in 
 clined to pinch her ruddy, round cheeks, or squeeze 
 her plump, dimpled hands, as if she were a child, 
 only for the tell-tale ring on her finger. She said 
 little as she sat there, stealing glances of profound ad 
 miration at the youthful stranger, Constance Aylmer, 
 who seemed to her to have glided out of one of the 
 old legends so often told by the fireside. But a sud 
 den knock startled her, and, hastening to open the 
 door, a frank, manly voice saluted her, which brought 
 the burgomaster to a quick and hearty welcome of 
 the bachelor son of his excellent friend, Lady Moody. 
 " Is this the same Constance I left romping on the
 
 6 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 lawn at Atherton Hall ? " asked Sir Henry with some 
 surprise, as he dropped Mynheer's hand, and met his 
 newly-arrived cousin. 
 
 " The very same," she said, as his kind arms en 
 folded her. 
 
 " You thought my slow coming a cold welcome, 
 did you not ? " he asked. " We cannot speed here at 
 will in a post-coach. It is no small journey from 
 Gravesend to New Amsterdam, as you will soon find. 
 Good-day to you, Dame Zwaller ! " he continued, 
 turning to her, who had come in at the sound of his 
 voice. " Thank you for housing my "bird ! " 
 
 " This is Mistress Primley, iny chaperone across 
 the Atlantic," said Constance, smiling, and leading 
 him toward her matronly companion, whose eyes had 
 been fixed upon him with interest since his entrance. 
 Mistress Primley courtesied with the dignity of a 
 duchess, but even her cap-ribbons fluttered at the 
 grateful thanks bestowed upon her for her attention 
 to his cousin, during the tedious voyage. 
 
 " Lady Moody will come herself to thank you," 
 concluded he, as they sat down by the blazing fire to 
 talk of friends, of the voyage, and of the novelties and 
 hardships that awaited the newly-arrived. 
 
 " I am glad you had so fair a voyage, my cousin ; 
 but why did you not rough it in the wind, rather 
 than pale your cheeks in the cabin ? How did it 
 happen, Mistress Primley ? " 
 
 " It is unseemly for ladies to spoil their com 
 plexions," she replied. " Besides, I feared she would 
 catch cold in the spray, or that a wave might wash
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEB. 7 
 
 her overboard ; or that the wind would blow her away, 
 or what not. She was safer by me in the cabin." 
 
 " Did you never go on deck ? " Sir Henry asked, 
 turning to Constance with a look of mingled surprise 
 and merriment. 
 
 " Rarely," she replied, playfully. " Mistress 
 Primley was much distressed lest the rigging should 
 fall and crush me. Indeed, I feared lest I should not 
 behold the sea at all, but my dread of your laughter 
 and my desire to see if the good ship sliced the waves 
 as daintily as you promised, made me over rule her 
 wishes sometimes." 
 
 " Mistress Primley," said Sir Henry gravely, " did 
 you mean to roll Constance like a bug in a nut-shell 
 from the Old World to the New, so that she might 
 never be able to find her way back again ? " 
 
 " I will give your lordship a better reason. There 
 was a certain Lord Percy on board, who took delight 
 in wild tales of the colonies, and insisted that your 
 cousin was to be buried alive among the boors of 
 Long Island, or scalped by the savages. She sat, one 
 day, upon a coil of ropes while he was thus discours 
 ing, and you see those long curls falling from her 
 temples he lifted them, circled a dirk-knife round her 
 head, and said, ' This is the way they would rob you 
 of your silken hair ! ' How did I know but this noble 
 man, who may or may not be a real lord, (shrugging 
 her shoulders,) might carry the precious child off in 
 the ship's boat ? I think he would have the heart for 
 it." 
 
 Mistress Primley leaned back in her chair and
 
 8 COXSTANCE ATLilER. 
 
 drew a deep sigh of relief that her charge was safely 
 here. The burgomaster looked silently at the fire, 
 and thought upon this Lord Percy, whose arrival had 
 already been discussed at the Stadt Huys, and who 
 was established in state at Metje Wessel's Inn. Sir 
 Henry turned inquiringly to Constance, and noticed 
 that her paleness had given place to roses almost as 
 intense as Barbara's. 
 
 " Did he offer no apology for his rudeness ? " he 
 sternly asked. 
 
 " Yes," replied Constance, bowing her head with 
 evident wish to drop the subject. Happily for her, 
 Dame Zwaller announced supper, and, when that was 
 over, the busy housewife drew the spinning-wheel 
 from its corner, and accompanied the chit-chat of her 
 guests with its musical buzz. Mistress Primley 
 brought out her unfailing knitting and industriously 
 clicked her needles, till the tall clock tolled eight. 
 This was the signal for Minxey to come with Bible 
 and taper, and stand behind the burgomaster's chair 
 while he read. An hour afterward, the glowing pine 
 knot was smothered in ashes, the room was deserted, 
 the wheel was still, the cat lay curled upon its cushion 
 and slept softly. Of all in the house, only the cu 
 rious clock was wide awake. 
 
 In spite of the soothing stillness, Constance did 
 not rest well. Her dreams were peopled with impish 
 Minxeys darting arrows at her, Dutch dames twisting 
 her curls into a cue, and Lord Percy smiling and 
 whispering at her side, then oddly perching upon the 
 chimney top and screeching. " te whit, te whoo."
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 9 
 
 This awoke her. She lay listening a long time to the 
 doleful cry of a real owl who was amusing himself 
 with the echo of his croak, instead of hiding his crook 
 ed nose under his wing, as any respectable bird ought 
 to do at that time of night. At last, she espied the 
 first gleam of dawn through the little window open 
 ing just beneath th.e peak of the gable, and too high 
 for her to reach even on tip-toe. At the earliest stir 
 of the household, she presented herself, much to their 
 surprise. Her explanation at breakfast of her early 
 awakening created a round of laughter. Mistress 
 Primley shook her head and looked grave. 
 
 " It is a warning. May nothing happen ! " 
 
 Sir Henry thought this croak as dismal as the owl's 
 hoot. As soon as the curds and new milk had re 
 ceived ample justice, he hastened to prepare for his 
 departure to Gravesend. 
 
 Dame Zwaller bade Constance good-by at the gate. 
 Her heart had gone out warmly toward the artless 
 young girl. With real regret at the parting, she ear 
 nestly pressed her to spend the coming holiday under 
 her roof. The burgomaster and Mistress Primley 
 went with her to the landing, where Cornelius Dirck- 
 sen, the ferryman, waited to row them across to 
 Breuk]yn. He had ample time for the extra pull, as 
 his regular trips occurred but twice a day, to transport 
 the farmers with their cabbages to market. 
 
 Mistress Primley shed tears at the loss of her 
 protegee, whom she declared she loved as her own 
 child. She watched the boat as long as she could 
 distinguish Constance. 
 1*
 
 10 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 " What if the boat should upset ! Do you think 
 it will, Mynheer ? " Her tears flowed afresh at the 
 thought. But Mynheer reminded her that the ferry 
 man was a strong man and a wonderful swimmer, so 
 that he might easily put Constance high and dry in 
 his hat and float her ashore. This was a great conso 
 lation. Mistress Priinley was content now to leave 
 off straining her eyes in gazing after the boat through 
 her tears, and went back to the house praising Con 
 stance all the way.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 11 
 
 II. 
 
 GKAVESEND, in its fourteenth year, was a small vil 
 lage surrounded by high palisades. Its streets radia 
 ted from a common centre where stood the Town 
 house, the pump and the whipping-post. The best 
 of the houses were double, with long, sloping thatch 
 ed roofs, and huge chimney-stacks which admitted as 
 much light as the very small windows. 
 
 A little beyond the village, and also enclosed by 
 high palisades, stood a large, irregular stone house 
 called Moody Hall, both on account of the superiority 
 of the building and on account of its occupants. Its 
 possessor, Lady Moody, was one of the patentees of 
 the town. She had come here to enjoy more freedom 
 of opinion than was granted her at Lynn among the 
 Puritans. Ten years later she would have been per 
 secuted there as a Quaker. The people of Gravesend, 
 like herself, were English, with few exceptions, and 
 of the same religious belief. They regarded this 
 Lady-mother with awe as well as affection, and sub 
 mitted to her judgment all difficulties which could 
 not be otherwise settled. 
 
 The house, which the villagers pointed out to 
 strangers with pride, was spacious on the ground- 
 floor, and lighted with deep, narrow windows of dia 
 mond-shaped panes. The roof was red-tiled, and 
 curved out in a steep slope beyond the front wall,
 
 12 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 where it was supported by roughly-hewn column?, 
 and formed a long piazza. Some of these rude col 
 umns, and part of the roof, were covered with a 
 luxuriant creeping vine. It was a mass of rich green 
 in summer. Now, early in November, it gleamed 
 scarlet. The floor of the piazza and the entrance- 
 path, were paved with round, smooth pebbles. A 
 settle -bench stood against the wall beneath the win 
 dows, and was a cool resting-place in summer. The 
 ponderous double door, with " bull's eyes " in its 
 upper panels, opened into a wide hall. Above the 
 doors leading to side rooms, deers' antlers were fixed, 
 in proof of Sir Henry's skill as a huntsman ; and In 
 dian trophies hung upon the walls. The large room 
 on the left had the luxury of silk hangings and richly- 
 carved furniture, which had seen their best days in 
 England. If this room had an air of the world, it 
 was no fault of Lady Moody 's now ; for these vanities 
 were the relics of her gayer days. It was used only 
 on rare occasions such as the coming of the Right 
 Honorable Lord and Director-General, Petrus Stuy- 
 vesant, whom nobody in Gravesend dared to enter 
 tain, or knew so well how to manage as the good 
 mother. 
 
 The room opposite this was the home of the house. 
 Here the fire always glowed in winter; deep arm 
 chairs stood hospitably by the wide hearth ; a round 
 work-table, with its orderly basket, occupied an in 
 viting corner ; and a library filled the space opposite 
 the windows. 
 
 This was to be Constance Ayhner's home. Her
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEB. 13 
 
 first glimpse of the red-tiled roof above the palisades, 
 as she and Sir Henry wound along the road, alarmed 
 her lest she should feel like a prisoner there. 
 
 " Why is it so like a fort ? " she asked. 
 
 " To protect us from the attacks of Indians," was 
 the reply. " Those palisades did us good service two 
 years gone. We can fight our own battles there 
 without help of soldiers." Constance turned toward 
 hi m^ with a frightened look. 
 
 " Lord Percy spoke truly, then," said she. 
 
 " I hope not, my cousin," was the laughing reply. 
 " There is little fear of the savages now, for my good 
 mother has held a great talk with the chiefs. They 
 know she is the soul of honor, for they have tried her 
 and found her true just as you will find her every 
 day of her life. In any event, my sweet cousin, your 
 bright locks are safe. Take the word of a gallant 
 bachelor for that." 
 
 " Thank you," returned Constance, smiling and re 
 assured. " Tell me more of aunt Deborah. Is she 
 like my mother ? " 
 
 " Her smile alone may remind you of her per 
 haps her voice. Eor the rest, I can only tell you to 
 think of the personification of purity, of uprightness 
 before God and man, of generosity iu soul and purse, 
 of strong feelings under complete control, of tenderest 
 affection, and you have my mother as she seems to 
 me. Not the faintest likeness in me, you perceive," 
 he added, suddenly breaking from the grave tone in 
 which he was speaking. " Here we are. You will 
 soon see for yourself."
 
 14 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 Constance was trying to reconcile this character 
 with the image she retained of her aunt since child 
 hood. It was that of an elegant woman, attired in 
 embroidered robes and ruffs, and whose animated 
 face was surmounted by a cloud of powdered hair. 
 With this vision still floating before her, she alighted 
 and hastened along the path, just as the ponderous 
 door swung back. There stood Lady Moody, wait 
 ing to welcome her. Constance was chilled with dis 
 appointment at the first sight. The placid greeting, 
 the nunnish dress, the lace cap simple and fresh, 
 hiding with rigor the wealth of hair as if to smother 
 pride in it the smooth neckerchief, white as snow 
 all together repelled her, and, instead of throwing her 
 arms around her aunt's neck, as she had all the time 
 unconsciously expected to do, she simply clasped her 
 hand, kissed her gently, and smiled a homesick smile. 
 Then she followed her to the library, where they sat 
 a few moments talking of the journey and of the 
 Zwallers. Lady Moody quickly saw the weary, sad 
 look in the face that had never learned to hide the 
 thoughts behind it, and said with cheerful tenderness, 
 
 " Come, my daughter, I will show thee the pretty 
 chamber prepared for thee. When tired of us, thee 
 can steal away, as I remember thee did when a 
 child, and can hide there as thee used to behind thy 
 mother's chair, to work undisturbed." Her face 
 shone with smiling goodness so plainly that Con 
 stance forgot the smooth cap and gray gown, and 
 thought, after all, she was not as austere as she at 
 first would have believed. Listening to cheerful talk
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 15 
 
 of the past, she found herself laughing by the time 
 they had climbed the stairway, and was interested to 
 see what the pretty room under the eaves contained. 
 A tent-bed stood there, draped with curtains of blue 
 wool, the finest that had been woven at the Hall. 
 The windows were also curtained with blue. A deep, 
 straight-backed chair, with broad arms, standing by 
 the window, and before it a small round table with 
 supports in tripod-form, and a richly-carved ward 
 robe of black oak, were the chief objects of the 
 pleasant chamber. Lady Moody threw back the 
 wooden blind. 
 
 " Thee can gee the bay from this window, and the 
 ships and fishermen's craft as they come in. Thee 
 must be watchful to catch sight of one, for they do 
 not come like flocks of white birds as they used upon 
 the Thames. But do not strain thine eyes now. Lie 
 here and rest, and another time we will see all that 
 will be pleasant to thee here." 
 
 Constance was grateful for the thought bestowed 
 upon her comfort, but she still felt too much awed to 
 express it. As soon as left alone, she buried herself 
 in the downy bed and, with her cheeks wet with home 
 sick tears, fell into a deep, dreamless slumber, just 
 such as she needed after her sleepless night and fa 
 tiguing journey. 
 
 While she slept profoundly under the blue curtains 
 in the little chamber, two persons sat in the library 
 talking of her. Sir Henry, in his restless way, teazed 
 the logs into a brighter flame while speaking, and his 
 friend, Mr. Mordaunt, listened with, easy indifference.
 
 16 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 " She is a fine horsewoman. Joan of Arc could 
 not have done better to-day." 
 
 "Englishwomen are hardy," returned Mr. Mor- 
 daunt, wondering if the newly-arrived was a stout 
 spinster. There was a twinkle of mischief in Sir 
 Henry's eye when he added, 
 
 " She can tie a stronger mesh than Timon, the 
 weaver, in the house beyond the palisades ; and I'll 
 warrant there is not an archer in the New Nether 
 lands can send an arrow straighter to the mark than 
 she!" 
 
 " Ah ! an Amazonian ! " Sir Henry made no reply 
 to this, but abruptly turned the conversation to law 
 matters which had brought Mr. Mordaunt from Yir- 
 ginia. An hour later, Constance came in, fresh and 
 smiling, from her rest. Sir Henry presented her to 
 his friend, feeling intense satisfaction at his uncon 
 cealed surprise when he found the stout spinster sud 
 denly transformed into a graceful young girl of 
 delicate beauty. Mr. Mordaunt was not captivated 
 however. He was too accustomed to captivate others 
 to be moved at first sight. His ideal of beauty was 
 the dazzling, piquant style ; not at all the gentle 
 loveliness of the one before him. He quickly recovered 
 his self-possession and entered into conversation, which 
 was presently broken by the announcement of tea, but 
 resumed with interest around the table. Tall wax 
 candles shed a soft light over the group, and upon the 
 table laid with such nicety and spread with such 
 bounty as to stimulate the daintiest of appetites. 
 
 " I need not ask if thou art refreshed, I see it in
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 17 
 
 thy countenance," said Lady Moody as she made tea 
 from the bright silver kettle before her. " Thee will 
 make a good pioneer." 
 
 " Our friends in England promised that I should 
 wilt under the hardness of this new country," replied 
 Constance. " I am glad yon do not discourage me, 
 also." 
 
 " I should think one delicately bred would find the 
 transplanting harsh," said Mr. Mordaunt, who sat 
 opposite. " Does not the uncouthness of even New 
 Amsterdam look doleful to your eyes ? " 
 
 " Oh no," she laughingly answered. " Every thing 
 was so droll and yet so simple there, I took pleasure 
 in it." 
 
 " But the villages are rude. You can not shop in 
 Gravesend as in London." 
 
 " Nor have I the need here, as there." 
 
 " Ah ! I see ! Novelty holds you charmed. When 
 dangers beset you, I am afraid you will not with 
 stand them so bravely as the loss of refined communi 
 ties." , 
 
 "I will not boast my courage before it is tried. 
 In any case, why need I fear, since my brave cousin 
 is here ? " 
 
 " My services are pledged," said Sir Henry gravely. 
 " Mr. Mordaunt, you will alarm Constance by your 
 promises of ill happenings as much as did Lord Percy 
 
 during the voyage " here he stopped upon seeing 
 
 her frightened pleading look, lest he should repeat 
 Mistress Primley's tale. Mr. Mordaunt's observing 
 eyes caught the troubled glance also, and did not fail
 
 18 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 to notice the rosy flush that mounted to her cheek. 
 Who was this Lord Percy ? And what was he to her ? 
 Perhaps she was not free to be won. That were a 
 pity, for there was a charm about her not at first dis 
 covered an electrical play of soul in the features 
 which continually lighted and varied their expression. 
 Mr. Mordaunt found himself studying her face more 
 than once, and now that there was a possibility of a 
 rival he felt that the preference of such a woman 
 would be a high honor. 
 
 " Who is this Lord Percy of whom thee just 
 spoke ? " asked Lady Moody. 
 
 "A nobleman in high state at Metje Wessell's inn, 
 who arrived in the same ship with Constance. He 
 lias some matters to transact with the Director. You 
 will doubtless see him soon, for he told me he desired 
 to assure himself of my cousin's health and safety 
 after the fatigue of the voyage." Constance's eyes 
 were fastened upon her plate while he spoke. " Bal- 
 tazzar Stuy vesant will accompany him," he continued, 
 " and will doubtless prove his chivalry irfyoar lady 
 ship's service. This is for your comfort, my cousin, 
 lest you fear a dearth of fine gallants ia our pleasant 
 country." 
 
 Even Lady Moody, always so tranquil, laughed 
 audibly at the thought of the unwieldy Baltazzar, 
 playing the nimble gallant. Sir Henry immediately 
 described him with exaggeration. 
 
 "His breeches are no less than four at one wear 
 ing, and his jackets, three. His cue is the longest and 
 broadest plaited in New Amsterdam, and his hat has
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 19 
 
 the widest brim. He always reminds me of one of 
 Dame Zwaller's Holland cheeses." 
 
 " Ah, my son, thee need not spend thy wits upon 
 one who has done thee so many favors. Constance, 
 thee will not find in Manhattan a better heart than 
 this same Baltazzar owns. Christiana Zwaller knows 
 it, and her daughter Barbara, who is betrothed to him, 
 can tell thee how truly I speak." 
 
 " We cannot admit her testimony," laughed Mr. 
 Mordaunt. 
 
 " I shall be glad to render mine," added Constance. 
 " I have great desire to see also your generous protec 
 tor, the Governor." Sir Henry smiled contempt 
 uously. 
 
 " You will come to learn that he is more of a 
 tyrant than protector. Governor Keith was a more 
 liberal guardian of our rights than he." 
 
 " Has any thing new come to thy knowledge to 
 day ? " anxiously asked Lady Moody. 
 
 " No, mother. I had in mind his new proclama 
 tion, forbidding the worship of any sect save the Cal- 
 vinists. Tou will have no more freedom here, than in 
 the English colonies. Only for savages and beasts, we 
 might still follow the sun with profit." 
 
 " ' Go further and fare worse,' " suggested Mr. 
 Mordaunt, as they arose from table, and returned to 
 the library. 
 
 Constance withdrew early, not to sleep, but to talk 
 long of the sacred past with her aunt. It was a 
 precious interchange of joys and sorrows, such as won 
 her heart, and bound them together in sympathy and
 
 20 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 love. When at last they said good night, she forgot 
 the smooth neckerchief and threw her arms lovingly 
 around Lady Moody, exclaiming, 
 
 " I have indeed found a mother ! I am happy ! "
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 21 
 
 III. 
 
 BEFOKE breakfast the next morning, .Constance 
 stood by the shelves in the library, lost in a book. 
 Mr. Mordaunt came sauntering through the hall. 
 Catching a glimpse of her, he stopped in the door-way 
 to admire the effect of her simple blue morning-dress, 
 loosely girdled, her hair fastened without ornament, 
 and the small foot almost hidden by the huge rosette 
 of her slipper. Even the bend of her neck, and the 
 droop of her shoulders, did not escape his critical sur 
 vey. Eyes thus fastened upon one are always felt. 
 Constance turned without knowing why, and seeing 
 him, wished him a cheerful good-morning, and restored 
 the book to its place. 
 
 " Lost in book-lore so early ? " said he, glancing 
 over the rows of volumes as if to know their titles. 
 
 " Only a quaint poem, I chanced to see." Mr. 
 Mordaunt noted its Latin title. 
 
 " Ladies do not often amuse themselves with learn 
 ing, even in England, Mistress Aylmer." 
 
 " Oh, I am not learned. But my mother caused me 
 to be taught as my brother. She thought embroidery 
 and the harpsichord pleasant trifles, but not worthy to 
 serve one at all times." 
 
 " Learning helps one to endure hardness," returned 
 Mr. Mordaunt. " You will have need of that and the 
 harpsichord too, in this wilderness home. Can you 
 truly find content away from the gayeties of London ? "
 
 22 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 " Truly I can, for, having never tasted those gaye- 
 ties, I shall not miss them. I have always lived at 
 Atherton Hall." 
 
 All the time she answered, Mr. Mordaunt Avas 
 watching the changing expression, the frank, con 
 fiding look in her eyes, the play of dimples around 
 her sweet mouth, and then the modest falling of her 
 eyelids under his too studious gaze, which sank more 
 deeply into his heart for after-dreaming, than any 
 coquettish brilliancy he professed to admire. It was 
 more dangerous pastime for him than he knew. Even 
 at breakfast, while talking with Lady Moody of the 
 affairs of the colony, his eyes wandered so often 
 toward Constance, that when he had gone, Sir Henry 
 drily remarked, that he continually mistook her for 
 Lady Moody. 
 
 " Is my hair disordered ? Is my toilet awry or 
 unseemly, aunt Deborah?" was Constance's question 
 as soon as they were alone. 
 
 " I see no fault. "Why does thee ask ? " 
 
 " Mr. Mordaunt scanned me so well," she laugh 
 ingly answered, "that I believed he thought me 
 unfitly attired." 
 
 " Thee must pardon him, for he has not seen one 
 of his own countrywomen of gentle birth, these 
 many months. He was used to much courtly society 
 before he came hither. He seeks to repair a broken 
 fortune in Virginia, and will doubtless return to Eng 
 land, when his wishes are fulfilled. Will thee come 
 now and learn the windings of the house ? " 
 
 Constance followed Lady Moody in her usual
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 23 
 
 morning rounds to the great kitchen, where Chloe, 
 black as ebony, presided over kettles swinging upon 
 the crane, in the huge fireplace, or delighted herself 
 at the pastry-board. The tiled floor was spotless in 
 its neatness, the cross-beams above were festooned 
 with strings of apples drying, and bunches of sweet 
 herbs swung from hooks in the wall. Beyond the 
 kitchen, was the dairy, with its cool stone floor, and 
 its rows of full pans crusted with delicious cream. 
 Eosc stood there, just bringing up golden butter from 
 the depths of the churn. It was a pleasant sight, 
 suggestive of a plentifulness which Lady Moody gen 
 erously shared with those who lacked stores of their 
 own. The rooms above displayed piles of linen, 
 woollen fabrics, and coarse material, the sum of the 
 industry of old Csesar, and Phiilis, and young Jinney, 
 who spun and wove in an outer building, a stone's 
 throw from the house. The finest of the wool and 
 flax, were reserved for Lady Moody's wheel. It was 
 woven in the house-loft by Hose, whence came the 
 soft blue fabric that curtained the pretty room under 
 the eaves. 
 
 When the morning round was finished, and the 
 two returned to the library, Constance hesitatingly 
 asked, 
 
 " Are all these black people slaves, whom I have 
 just seen, aunt Deborah ?" 
 
 " No, my daughter, they have earned their freedom 
 according to their faithfulness. Tobee, the herdsman, 
 gains his papers the first day of the New Year. Min- 
 go and Peter, the field hands, belong to Christiana
 
 24 COXSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 Zwaller, whom I have entreated much to sell to 
 them their freedom. She believes it would cause 
 mischief, and waxes indignant when I press the mat 
 ter." 
 
 " She is not a gentle mistress," said Constance, 
 remembering the shrill, impatient voice. 
 
 " She is the best housewife in Manhattan," replied 
 Lady Moody, unwilling to lessen her friend in any one's 
 esteem. To end the subject, she went out upon the 
 piazza and into the garden, where she busied herself 
 in pruning the leafless rose-bushes. The air was soft 
 and hazy like a returned Indian summer. Its pleas 
 antness tempted Constance to walk outside the pali 
 sades, and then, seeing Mingo with his oxen and cart 
 trundling along the road that led toward the forest, 
 the idea came to go also, and gather bright leaves in 
 the hollows. 
 
 " Stop, Mingo ! " cried she, " take me in your cart." 
 He could hardly believe his ears, but seeing her in 
 earnest, he stripped off his jacket and spread it over 
 the bottom of the cart. Constance sprang lightly in, 
 and seated herself with a smiling " Thank you." 
 Mingo gave the word of advance, flourishing his long 
 whip over the ears of the oxen as proudly as if he were 
 postillion .to a princess. The old cart was instantly 
 dignified above every other, and Mingo was so elated 
 at his honor, that he kept up an incessant hallooing at 
 the quiet oxen to display his skill and the speed of the 
 unheeding beasts. After much ado, the woods were 
 reached. Constance bounded out and was soon plung 
 ing her hands among the fallen leaves, exclaiming now
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 25 
 
 and then at sight of a maple or sumach leaf, gay and 
 fresh yet. 
 
 " Woa ! ah ! whoo ! " rang through the woods. 
 The unearthly sound sent her scrambling and out of 
 breath toward Mingo. 
 
 " The Indians ! " she gasped. 
 
 " Woa ! ah ! whoo ! " came again the shout, wound 
 up by a prolonged screech. Mingo was convulsed 
 with laughter, shaking his head all the time and beg 
 ging pardon over and over when he could speak. 
 
 "Dem's Dutch women drivin' cows. You see 'em 
 straight through dis yer strip o' wood. Go in dat path 
 an' you see 'em," said he, pointing to a small, winding 
 path at a short distance. 
 
 She followed it, half afraid to venture, yet longing 
 to see from what woman's lips such a sound could 
 come. She soon reached a small clearing where stood 
 a house, with peaked, thatched roof, and walls blocked 
 in blue and yellow. In front were two cows yoked 
 to a plough. A dark-faced woman, in short-gown and 
 striped petticoat, guided it, shouting her yisht ! yisht ! 
 woa ! in a high key each time she reached the end of 
 a furrow. Constance sat upon a fallen tree to look 
 and to listen to the wild sounds. Then she bethought 
 herself of a pencil and paper in her pocket. Using 
 the inside of a smooth piece of bark for a portfolio, she 
 quickly produced a sketchy little picture of the 
 thatched cottage and the gipsey-faced woman, with 
 her cows and plough. She was too absorbed to hear 
 the soft steps behind her or to know that a pair of eyes 
 were looking intently over her shoulder at the picture.
 
 26 CONSTANCE AYLMKR. 
 
 A low ejaculation close to her ear made her spring to 
 her feet with fright. A harmless Indian girl stood 
 before her. Constance's eyes dilated with fear, then 
 grew calm as they rested upon the beautiful, dark 
 face. She scanned the mantle of fine feather work, 
 the skirt bordered with porcupine quills and the deer 
 skin moccasins. The two remained looking at each 
 other, Constance with half-parted lips and brilliant 
 eyes the Indian girl with folded arms and quiet 
 aspect. At length, the girl pointed from the Dutch 
 woman to the sketch, nodded her head and gave a 
 soft, low laugh. 
 
 " Come to Moody Hall," said Constance, " and I 
 will picture you." The wild beauty shook her head. 
 She could not understand. Constance pointed to the 
 path, to herself, and repeated, " Moody." The un 
 moved face nodded assent. Now she wished to know 
 the name of this forest belle. She gently stroked 
 herself, repeating her own name, then laid her hand 
 timidly upon the stranger waiting for her to speak. 
 
 " Omanee," was the reply to the silent question. 
 
 " Omanee ! Omanee ! " said Constance over and 
 over, and Omanee gave another soft, low laugh, at 
 hearing her own name from the lips of the white girl. 
 Then they parted, and it was time, for Mingo was 
 already coming in alarm at the prolonged absence of 
 his venturesome charge. Constance gathered in her 
 broad hat the nuts and leaves she had chosen, and 
 went back bareheaded in the old jogging cart to the 
 very gateway. As she entered the house, Mr. Mor- 
 daunt met her.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 27 
 
 " I must believe you are the Spirit of the Wind/ 
 and that a breeze lias whirled you in with the autumn 
 leaves," he said. She was quite unconscious of the 
 bright glow, the animation, the graceful abandon of 
 manner which awakened his admiration, and laugh 
 ingly replied, 
 
 " You would have named it a lazy breeze for a 
 spirit, and truly Mistress Primley would have called 
 it an unseemly coach for a lady, but it was a delight 
 ful trundle for all that. Who, think you, I saw in 
 the woods ? Oinanee. Her face is like a picture at 
 Atherton Hall. Her eyes are full, dark, soft; her 
 hair glossy black ; she moves like a queen. You have 
 seen her, then ? " 
 
 " I have seen her," said he quietly. " She is the 
 daughter of a chief. Her beauty can in no wise be 
 denied, but it has not the unspeakable charm that I 
 have seen in another face the Archeress of the 
 Island." 
 
 " I have never heard of her," said Constance, in 
 nocently waiting further explanation. 
 
 " Ask Sir Henry. He can tell you better than I," 
 continued Mr. Mordaunt, smiling. Constance turned 
 away wondering, and not a little disappointed that he 
 was not more enthusiastic in regard to Omanee. 
 Upon reaching her room, she threw herself into the 
 deep chair by the window to rest, but remembering 
 that the morning was nearly spent, hastened to renew 
 her toilet. A small mirror in a quaint, beaded frame 
 gave back the poor reflection of herself. 
 
 " What a fright ! What a tousled head ! What
 
 28 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 wonder that he believed me a piece of a hurricane ! " 
 she exclaimed, surveying her disordered hair frizzled 
 and tossed over her neck. 
 
 "And my shoe!" cried she, looking down in dis 
 may at her foot. At that moment Lady Moody came 
 in, surprised to find her ready to cry with shame and 
 vexation. 
 
 " What troubles thee, Constance ? " 
 
 " Look at me, Aunt Deborah. Mr. Mordaunt just 
 told me he thought me the Spirit of the "Wind. Why 
 should he not smile and gaze at me ? Truly he had 
 need ; see my slipper ! " 
 
 " Where did thee go in those fine shoes ? " 
 
 "In Mingo's cart, and in the woods to see the 
 Dutch woman," said she, still perplexed as to what 
 Mr. Mordaunt must think of her. Her aunt could 
 not refrain from smiling. 
 
 " Thee need not trouble thy head. Thy health 
 is of more account than dress, and Edward Mordaunt 
 is too sensible to think less of thee for the disorder 
 of a morning's ramble. But thee had not better walk 
 in slippers, nor so far without thy cousin." 
 
 Her mild voice, and view of the matter, restored 
 Constance's composure. She brought the sketch, 
 chatted of Omanee, laughed over her alarm, and while 
 talking, busied herself in fastening the brightest of 
 the autumn leaves above the little mirror. At last, 
 rearranging her dress, she sat upon a footstool at 
 Lady Moody's feet as placid and as smoothly neat as 
 if the wind had never kissed her cheek or tossed her 
 hair. It was a new pleasure to her aunt, this posses-
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 29 
 
 sion of a daughter, and she will come often to fill 
 this pleasant seat by the window, while conferring, as 
 mother and daughter only can, upon the cares, the 
 pleasures, duties, and sorrows that are in store for both. 
 
 Constance did not see Mr. Mordaunt again that 
 day, nor for several days, he having gone to Midwout. 
 She was not sorry, for she still felt ashamed of the 
 ragged deshabille in which he had seen her. A few 
 evenings later, some allusion to Omanee reminded 
 her of what she intended to ask Sir Henry. 
 
 " Can you tell me," said she at the first oppor 
 tunity, " who is the Archeress of the Island ? " 
 
 " Archeress ? No," he slowly replied, " I remem 
 ber none such." He cast an inquiring glance toward 
 his mother, but she was equally at loss. Constance 
 then added, 
 
 " She is lovelier than Omanee, Mr. Mordaunt said. 
 He bade me ask you." Sir Henry's face suddenly 
 gleamed with suppressed merriment. 
 
 " It is your ladyship ! " laughed he outright. 
 
 "Is it I?" exclaimed Constance, amazed. "I do 
 not understand." The color was fast creeping to her 
 very brow. 
 
 " I told him, before he had seen you, there was not 
 a net-maker could tie a stronger mesh, nor yet an 
 archer on Long Island who could send an arrow surer 
 to the mark. He took my word, and thought to be 
 hold an Amazon. He owns the skill of the Archeress, 
 then ! " Here he laughed so immoderately again, 
 that his mother could not refrain from laughing also. 
 But seeing Constance's increased confusion, she said,
 
 30 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 "Thee need not let his boyish roguery disturb 
 thee. One would hardly think thirty-five years had 
 gone over thy head, my son. "When will thee cease 
 to be a boy ? " 
 
 " Never, I hope, mother ! " Lady Moody gently 
 diverted the subject ; turning to Constance, she said, 
 
 " Omanee makes baskets of crab-shells and acorn- 
 cups, more ingeniously fashioned than any other 
 Indian work. It is long since she came to see me." 
 
 "Perhaps she will come. I tried to persuade 
 her. She may fancy seeing her own picture, which 
 I promised." 
 
 " A bauble or a gay ribbon would draw her 
 sooner," suggested Sir Henry. 
 
 " She must weave a basket for me. If I were to 
 make a pattern, think you she could imitate the 
 form ? " 
 
 " Thee can try." Constance immediately busied 
 herself with cutting, weaving, and twisting paper into 
 unique shapes, while Sir Hemy amused himself over 
 a volume lately added to his library. 
 
 Mr. Mordaunt returned from Midwout the next 
 noon. Constance was on the piazza, balanced on one 
 of the prongs of a column, and striving to reach one 
 of the few clusters of scarlet leaves that remained on 
 the vines. 
 
 " Let me serve you," said he, approaching. She 
 descended quickly with a smile and welcome, and in 
 another moment he had obtained the tendril, and 
 offered it to her. 
 
 " Thank you," said she, " I have been watching it
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEU. 31 
 
 wishfully. I wanted to wreathe it in my hair/' and 
 she immediately placed it there. 
 
 " Not rightly adjusted," Mr. Mordaunt said. " The 
 larger leaf should hold captive that stray curl ; the 
 smaller ones should stoop to your shoulder. Thus, 
 and thus." He turned the leaves this way and that, 
 tangling his lingers among the soft curls, touching by 
 accident the smooth cheek. 
 
 " You need not bestow so much labor upon it. 
 It is twice well done, I am sure," remonstrated Con 
 stance, turning away to hide her heightened color. 
 It was worth ten journeys from Midwout to this nice 
 critic to perform such sweet service. But at that 
 moment the sound of horses galloping along the road 
 caused both to look toward the open gateway, for the 
 road was hidden by the high palisades. Immediately 
 two horsemen stopped at the gate, and alighted. Mr. 
 Mordaunt went to meet them. 
 
 " That is Lord Percy ! " said Constance, entering 
 the house quickly, flying along the hall, up the stair 
 case, and to the refuge of her room. There she heard 
 the bustle of arrival, the noise of feet and voices. 
 She threw open her window, sat down by it and 
 looked out upon the unruffled bay in the distance. 
 
 " I wish I could hide ! " she whispered to herself. 
 " They could not find me in the wardrobe ! But Mr. 
 Mordaunt knows I am here. It would trouble dear 
 Aunt Deborah, too." Then she sighed, and still sat 
 looking out upon the quiet scene. 
 
 In the meantime, Lord Percy and Baltazzar, the 
 Director's son, who accompanied him, had entered
 
 32 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 and been welcomed by Lady Moody. She was not 
 agreeably impressed by the stranger; perhaps the 
 firmly set mouth, the restless grey eyes and powerful 
 form, or the extravagance of his manner, and exces 
 sive compliments, more courtier-like than true, did 
 not please her. A mass of curls fell upon his shoul 
 ders. His doublet was of velvet, the sleeves slashed 
 with buff satin ; his hose were ornamented with buff 
 ribbons, and buff garters buckled with jewels. These 
 were just visible above the wide-topped Spanish 
 boots. 
 
 Lady Moody sent for Constance. As soon as she 
 appeared, Lord Percy overwhelmed her with so many 
 compliments, that she was at loss for a reply, and, 
 covered with confusion, was retreating to a seat, when 
 Sir Henry reminded her of the presence of another 
 guest, by presenting his friend Baltazzar. As she 
 raised her eyes, a round, flushed face, with a pair of 
 dancing eyes and a plump mouth sporting the kind 
 est of smiles, all set upon a figure as broad as it was 
 high, was before her, claiming to be the veritable 
 Baltazzar. She thought of the Holland cheese ; her 
 face broke into a voiceless laugh, merrily reflected 
 back in that of her new friend. It was an honest 
 face, that won her good-will at once. His lazy mod 
 eration, too, put her entirely at ease. 
 
 " How is my good chaperone, Mistress Primley ? " 
 she asked. 
 
 " Beaming as a sun -flower. But she has great fear 
 of the savages, and niy brother takes wicked delight 
 in tormenting her. "We had a pleasure voyage to the
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEB. 33 
 
 Kaatskills, in which she joined, but it was a sorry 
 pleasure to her. 1 ' 
 
 " What are the Kaatskjlls like ? " queried Constance. 
 
 " Hills, with their heads in the clouds. But Mr. 
 Mordaunt must tell you. He is a poet. I am only the 
 keeper of my father's bowery, and know better how to 
 describe the fat kine and the best meadows than misty 
 hill-tops that I can never climb. But you should 
 have seen the woods along the shore. Such colors 
 never go into the loom. There is nothing like our 
 autumn foliage, in Holland." 
 
 " Is the Hudson as large as the Thames ? >J 
 
 " Yes, " replied Baltazzar, laughing and shaking 
 gently. " The Thames is only a brook beside it." 
 
 " One needs to remember you live by the Hudson, 
 and not by the Thames," suggested Lord Percy, join 
 ing them. 
 
 " True ; I should not forget that 1 am boasting to 
 English friends ; " saying this, he rolled his jolly self 
 toward Lady Moody. The genial look vanished out 
 of Constance's face as Lord Percy seated himself be 
 side her. 
 
 u You look serious when I approach you. Why 
 do you shrink like a sensitive plant when I turn my 
 eyes upon you ? . You have not forgotten what I told 
 you d uring the voyage ? Ma belle, I promised you I 
 should persevere." 
 
 " There is no need, my lord." 
 
 " I have been impatient for this meeting," he re 
 turned without regarding her words, " and will you 
 mar its happiness by withholding smiles so easy to be- 
 
 o*
 
 34 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 stow ? " Constance's eyes were fastened upon a cluster 
 of flowers embroidered upon her dress. She was 
 silent. 
 
 " You veil your eyes as well as your heart," he con 
 tinued in a low, tenderly modulated tone, so that 
 none but she could hear. "I am yearning to read 
 them both. I fear that you wilfully hide them." She 
 looked up with a pleased, twinkling glance. 
 
 " Your lordship is so good an interpreter that it 
 is needless to make a task of so easy reading." Her 
 heart thumped at her own boldness, but she did not 
 know how to soften the truth. Thus agitated, she 
 caught the half-troubled, half-scornful look of Mr. 
 Mordaunt, who had just noted the earnest devotion 
 of one and the blushes and bright glance of the other. 
 He turned away indignant that one so pure should 
 favor the address of a flippant courtier. Constance 
 saw and felt the reproach. She was vexed and pain 
 ed. Lord Percy saw her cheeks crimson. His van 
 ity was flattered. 
 
 " You are jesting," said he, " but your very jests 
 are arrows that transfix me. Grant me a leaf of the 
 vine twined in your hair, that the wound may be 
 healed. They say some wild leaves have power to 
 heal." 
 
 "You can have all you wish from the portico," 
 she replied coldly. 
 
 " But you will not refuse the one just ready to fall. 
 It twirls upon the stem." 
 
 " Not one; even though all were ready to 
 fall ! " she repeated, with an emphasis he had not ex-
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 35 
 
 pected. He concealed his chagrin, and seeing Sir 
 Henry approach, arose. 
 
 "Your discussion is very earnest. What is the 
 result ? " asked Sir Henry. 
 
 " We were differing as to the healing virtue of cer 
 tain leaves. Your cousin grants them only power to 
 irritate." He spoke carelessly, and changed the 
 subject. In a few moments dinner was announced. 
 Lord Percy was appointed to a seat next Constance. 
 Mr. Mordaunt filled his usual seat opposite. 
 
 " I have the happiness to hold you in durance an 
 hour at least," whispered Lord Percy. 
 
 " I am afraid it will prove much like holding a 
 thistle," was the reply. 
 
 "The wounds even are sweet," he retorted. Thus 
 he took delight in tormenting her till sometimes the 
 tears stood in her eyes. She felt that Lord Percy had 
 the power of acting the accepted lover, whatever 
 might be the undercurrent of words, and was troubled 
 at the averted eyes and haughty looks of Mr. Mor 
 daunt. How long the ceremonies of dinner seemed! 
 She was glad to be released at last. 
 
 Sir Henry went with his guests after dinner to 
 inspect the town and surrounding lands. Constance 
 remained alone, and amused herself before her em 
 broidery frame ; but her fingers tangled the floss, and 
 her eyes were not quick to accord the colors. It was 
 useless to pursue the delicate work in this mood. She 
 leaned back idly in her chair. Mr. Mordaunt came 
 in to look for papers. He bowed, as if to excuse his 
 intrusion, and, without a word, obtained what he
 
 36 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 sought arid went away, not to return till the next 
 day. 
 
 " "What is it to him if I have a suitor that does 
 not please him ? He is not my guardian. What 
 right has he to watch me daily to scan my attire, till 
 I am always in fear lest it does not please him ? Why 
 need he reprove my conduct when he sees only, and 
 does not hear? " said Constance indignantly to herself. 
 Then she added more softly, " What is it to me if 
 he is offended ? Why should I care if he thinks even 
 that I love this hateful man ? But I do care ! " She 
 looked quietly at nothing, and lost herself in a reverie 
 half troubled, half pleasant. 
 
 When the guests returned, Constance took care to 
 place herself between Baltaz/ar and Lady Moody. 
 She soon found interest in their spirited conversation 
 as to the character of the Indians and the best mode 
 of preventing hostilities. Baltazzar would employ 
 military force. Lady Moody contended for justice, 
 and the gospel of peace. Lord Percy cunningly drew 
 forth the savage characteristics of the natives, and the 
 horrors of their warfare. When the evening was 
 spent, and they arose to separate, he drew near Con 
 stance and said in a low tone, 
 
 " You see what a home you have chosen. Would 
 that I could entice you back to England. I am in 
 danger of lingering here always to protect you." 
 
 " I have the best of protectors already," she re 
 turned coldly. " I am content to stay with Aunt 
 Deborah, in any case."
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 37 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE guests left the next day, with the intention 
 of returning before the end of the week, to join Sir 
 Henry in a hunt. lyano, a famous Indian hunter, 
 was to serve as guide. This prospect of a speedy re 
 turn put Lord Percy in excellent spirits at parting. 
 He had gone away as gayly as an accepted lover, as 
 suring Constance of his intention to persevere. 
 
 The adieus had hardly been said when a Fiscal ar 
 rived, to inform Lady Moody that the village was in 
 commotion at the news just received of the refusal of 
 Governor Stuyvesant to ratify the election of the 
 town magistrates. These had already served one 
 term, and had been almost unanimously rechosen by 
 their townsmen. This interference in their choice 
 was a violation of their charter which could not 
 quietly be permitted. The reason of it no one knew. 
 One declared it was a whim, another that the Direc 
 tor's last cargo of Rhenish wine was sour. A little 
 Dutchman wagged his head and said it was his High 
 Mightiness's demon, and nobody need try to better 
 the matter. 
 
 A town meeting was at last called, when one John 
 Tilton was appointed to bear a remonstrance to the 
 Governor. Sir Henry gravely rose in the assembly, 
 and asked if John Tilton would be willing to remove 
 his hat in the presence of the Director. 
 
 " That I will not ! " was the sturdy reply.
 
 38 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 " Then, my friends, the Fiscal is a titter messenger, 
 if you would have our case obtain a hearing." 
 
 For this reason the Fiscal was chosen and sent. 
 He returned the second day with a firmer answer than 
 before, and also a plump refusal from the Director to 
 give any reason. To submit quietly to this tyranny 
 was impossible. But what was to be done next ? It 
 would be a great gain to know the Governor's rea 
 sons, and who could discover them better than Lady 
 Moody ? At least her judgment and advice might 
 show them a peaceful way out of trouble without sac 
 rificing the freedom of their charter. They appealed 
 to her, and left the matter for her to manage as gra 
 ciously as she chose. She immediately sent despatch 
 es of her own to the touchy Director. 
 
 In the meantime, Mr. Mordaunt had returned 
 from Midwout. Although he had been absent but 
 two days, he must have thought it very long, for when 
 he met Constance he held her hand in a warm, grasp 
 till she shyly drew it away. The pleased glow in her 
 face when he first came in, charmed away all the re 
 sentment he had felt since the coming of Lord Percy. 
 He forgot this, he forgot everything in her presence. 
 Only yesterday he had promised himself to think less 
 of this simple girl. She was not the brilliant beauty 
 upon whom he should bestow the honor of his ancient 
 name ; he wondered that he could have been so 
 moved at her possible preference for another. But 
 to-day he found himself jealously watching every 
 glance and expression with a keen interest, to know 
 if his absence had been felt, and if his return gave
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 39 
 
 her pleasure. One moment he was thrilled with her 
 happy look, the next tormented with doubts when she 
 turned from his tender glance, or instinctively drew 
 away from too near approach. While making himself 
 thus happy the days flew uncounted. 
 
 The messenger sent by Lady Moody returned, in 
 company with Lord Percy and Baltazzar, the latter 
 bearing the reply of the Governor that he would 
 confer with her at the Hall the next week, Tuesday. 
 There was now hope of a peaceable result. Lady 
 Moody and Baltazzar were in close conference most of 
 the evening, leaving Lord Percy altogether to the en 
 tertainment he most desired. Constance busied her 
 self winding silk from a reel, and gave cold attention 
 to the flatteries and adroit words oifered her. Yet 
 he would not be repulsed. He admired her the more 
 for her scornful retorts, and her coldness seemed only 
 to incite him to new and more persevering efforts to 
 win her favor. At last, seeing how little he was able 
 to awaken her vanity, he sat thoughtful and silent. 
 Then, in a quiet tone, he asked her if she knew of 
 Castle Cairne and its wild scenery. That was his an 
 cestral home. He was reminded of it by her indus 
 try. When he was a mere boy, his mother used to 
 gather the maidens from all the country about and 
 teach them how to embroider tapestry hangings with 
 strange legends. Then he described the castle, the 
 forest behind it, the great sea that stretched away be 
 fore it, the high black cliffs, the angry roar of the surf 
 at their foot, and the booming of the distant break 
 ers. Constance, little by little, stopped her reel, and
 
 40 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 presently the ball of silk lay idle in her fingers. Her 
 face was animated, and her eyes turned upon him 
 with interest. Seeing this, he cunningly continued 
 to fill out the sketch, telling her romances of the cas 
 tle, his wild adventures in the forest, and his daring 
 feats upon the sea. Then of a wreck that happened 
 oif the coast while he was once alone at the castle ; 
 of the wreckers' refusal to go to the ship in the awful 
 storm ; of his own reckless bravery in reaching it ; 
 the saving one by one of eight suffering beings, and 
 his own narrow escape from death when returning to 
 the shore. So skilful was the painting of his own 
 action that Constance looked upon him in astonish- 
 "ment, wondering if this was the same Lord Percy 
 who had been speaking to her hitherto. She had lis 
 tened an hour, forgetful of everything but Castle 
 Cairne, its forest and sea, noting only that at the be 
 ginning Mr. Mordaunt left the room with the same 
 haughty disdain as once before. She unconsciously 
 looked toward the door whenever it opened, but he 
 did not return. 
 
 The next morning the gentlemen were gone be 
 fore sunrise, with Tobee for an attendant. Lady 
 Moody's time was much taken up by the village mag 
 istrates and their friends, each of whom had advice 
 to offer in regard to the Governor's visit. Constance 
 was amused to notice how invariably each interview 
 ended with leaving the whole matter to the judgment 
 of her aunt. The whole village was talking of the 
 Director's reception as the great event of the quiet 
 year. Only Lady Moody herself was calm and pa-
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 41 
 
 tient, although upon her exertions and tact rested the 
 welfare and peace of the colony. 
 
 "Aunt Deborah, yon have not once this day knit 
 yonr brows. How do you carry your cares with so 
 peaceful a face?" asked Constance, tired herself at 
 the end of the day of troubles. 
 
 "I am not disturbed within. Why should I 
 frown, therefore ? I am weary, but not troubled, since 
 I know whence to get the wisdom needed in this mat 
 ter. God is able to melt Petrtis Stuyvesant's heart 
 toward us." 
 
 " And if He should harden it? " questioned Con 
 stance, in doubt. 
 
 " We should be afflicted, yet continue to possess 
 the peace that passeth all understanding. It is war 
 with God that gives unrest to the soul." 
 
 " But, Aunt Deborah, I have seen people at peace 
 with God, yet who fret grievously at their cares." 
 
 " If the cares are selfish, as through a desire to 
 gain riches, thee can see the treaty with God is broken, 
 and the unrest comes. But if the cares come through 
 a desire to work with and for the good Lord, there is 
 peace within, and the soul does not chafe and fret 
 under the burden." 
 
 " Ah, Aunt Deborah, if I can but grow like you, 
 rather than like Dame Zwaller, how pleasant it will 
 be when I am old ! " 
 
 " Thee will be in danger of copying many faults," 
 she replied, smiling. " Thee had better take a perfect 
 model. I know of one only the serene Saviour." 
 Lady Moody leaned her head upon her hand, and her
 
 42 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 arm upon' the chair, as if weary. Looking toward 
 the window, she saw a movement toward the gate. 
 
 " Look, Constance ; are not those our friends re 
 turned ? Thee can meet them at the door." 
 
 Constance saw them from the window, but she 
 hesitated, lest her welcome should be too pleasing to 
 the conceit of Lord Percy. She went, however. As 
 she opened the door, Rose, the dairy-maid, hastening 
 along the path, tripped and fell upon the stones. 
 Lord Percy laughed coarsely, and called her an awk 
 ward wench. Baltazzar instantly stooped, helped her 
 to rise, and good-naturedly asked if she was hurt. 
 
 " No, massa, thank you," said Rose, grinning with 
 shame, and hiding herself quickly in the garden path 
 that led around the house. This glimpse of Lord 
 Percy's coarse nature confirmed Constance's strong 
 aversion. Her frozen courtesy when he came in was 
 the more marked when he saw it melt into a gener 
 ous smile for Baltazzar. Fire was in his eyes, but he 
 hid it under his eyelids, and set his will the more firmly 
 to attain his object. He played his old part, of the 
 accepted lover, all that evening, enjoy ing the scornful 
 looks of Mr. Mordaunt, and seeking to interpret the 
 troubled glances which Constance returned. 
 
 The next morning, when the guests took leave, 
 Lord Percy spoke some words to Mr. Mordaunt, 
 which were received with the frigid politeness of a 
 sworn enemy. In bidding Constance adieu, he 
 grasped her hand too quickly for her to resist, and 
 raised it to his lips with the action of an adorer. Mr. 
 Mordaunt saw it, and disappeared. Later in the
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEB. . 43 
 
 morning, he returned from the village and announced 
 his intention to be absent several weeks. He was 
 going up the Hudson. Urgent business was the ex 
 cuse to Lady Moody. After writing a note to Sir 
 Henry, who was not in, he turned to Constance, sit 
 ting with her lingers between the leaves of a book, 
 looking intently at nothing. 
 
 " 1 must bid you adieu," said he, taking her prof 
 fered hand. Their eyes met for a moment. Con 
 stance's voice trembled when she spoke. 
 
 " I am sorry you are going. We shall miss you." 
 Mordaunt wished she had said, " I shall miss you." 
 He gazed earnestly at her as if he would say some 
 thing, yet feared to offend, then turned away to say 
 farewell to Lady Moody who came in. 
 
 " Thee will be Very welcome here at thy return, 
 as thee well knows, Edward. May God give thee 
 safety and good speed." 
 
 Now he was gone. Constance heard his footsteps 
 along the walk, and afterward the clattering of the 
 horse's hoofs as he galloped away. Then it was still. 
 How still and vacant the house seemed ! How heavy 
 her heart ! She longed to cry, but refused the tears. 
 
 " It is only because Lord Percy vexed me so sorely 
 this morning," said she, striving to busy her fingers 
 with her needle. But the work did not interest her. 
 She sewed it wrong side out, and twisted the seams 
 hopelessly. Throwing it down, she went to the book 
 shelves and cast her eye along the rows of books. 
 There was " A little Eye-Salve for the Kingdom and 
 Army," "The Dippers Dipped, or the Anabaptists
 
 44 CONSTANCK AYLMER. 
 
 ducked and plunged over head and ears at a disputa 
 tion at Southwark," " Yoyage of Ferdinant Mendoz,". 
 " Sylva Sylvarura," and many others of like titles. 
 She passed these, and fixed at last upon Spencer's 
 " Fairie Queen," which had lately been added to the 
 precious store. She was lost in this till Sir Henry 
 came in and read the note left by Mordaunt. 
 
 "How now, cousin mine? You have put all 
 your lovers to flight." 
 
 " What have I done ? " she asked wonderingly. 
 
 " Bewitched them for which I hold you account 
 able. Mordaunt supposes Lord Percy is to take you 
 to England at the beginning of the New Year, and 
 so he makes business the excuse whereby to escape 
 the misery of seeing you his lordship's bride." 
 
 " Does he say that ? " said Constance, blushing 
 deeply, though believing not a word. 
 
 " He means that." 
 
 " I believe nothing you tell me," she replied, bend 
 ing low over her book to hide her face. 
 
 " Read, you wicked unbeliever ! You should not 
 have left him to convey such news to me." Con 
 stance read the note thrown in her lap. 
 
 " It is all about one Sudbury's law matters. What 
 know I of that K " she said laughingly, yet reading for 
 the sake of a half-conscious pleasure in the writing. 
 " Oh ! what is this ? " she exclaimed, glancing further 
 at the postscript : " Lord Percy informed me this 
 morning of his expectation to bear with him to Eng 
 land, at the beginning of the JSTew Year, your fair 
 cousin. I will detain my congratulations till a more
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 45 
 
 fitting time." Constance sat speechless, crimsoning to 
 her very temples. 
 
 " It is true then ? " said Sir Henry, unbelieving in 
 his turn. 
 
 " J^o ! no ! no ! " cried Constance. " Lord Percy 
 is base to say it." Rising quickly, she fled from the 
 room to hide her emotion in her own little chamber. 
 Presently there came a light step, and a gentle tap at 
 the door. Lady Moody entered. 
 
 ;t Thy friends have plagued thee to-day, my daugh 
 ter. Can thee tell me which disturbs thee most ? " said 
 she, seating herself in the deep chair. 
 
 Constance burst into tears, and sat down upon the 
 footstool at her feet. She soon felt the soothing in 
 fluence of Lady Moody's hand in soft, loving strokes 
 upon her head. 
 
 Thus encouraged, she confided to her aunt all the 
 annoyance and fear she had felt since her first meet 
 ing with Lord Percy, and how carefully he strove to 
 represent her falsely. 
 
 " He has stooped even to a base falsehood. How 
 can I meet him again with the respect due to his 
 degree?" said Constance, looking up. 
 
 " Thee must not lower thy gentle manners because 
 he holds his honor light. Neither would I have thee 
 otherwise than courteous to him whom Petrus Stuy- 
 vesant recommends to our good entertainment. But, 
 Constance, art thou quite sure this nobleman, in his 
 riches and high estate, has no charm for thee? " 
 
 " I am sure, Aunt Deborah. Though he were a 
 prince, even the cro wn-princc of England, I should
 
 46 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 fly from his love." Lady Moody looked down upon 
 Constance's earnest face with tender, motherly in 
 terest. 
 
 " Thou hast removed a load from my heart, dear 
 child," said she. " I feared greatly lest he had 
 already won thy affection. I will not say aught 
 against him, lest I do him wrong; but he is not one I 
 should choose for thee. Thy confidence has made me 
 very happy."
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 47 
 
 Y. 
 
 TUESDAY was a holiday in the village, in honor of 
 the Governor's visit. The Prince's flag floated from 
 the staff in front of the Town House. Children hud 
 dled together near the town-gate to see the Governor 
 pass, and the magistrates went out to meet and escort 
 him to Lady Moody's. The cavalcade delighted the 
 eyes of the lookers-on when it came at last. There 
 was the body-guard of four halberdiers ; the magis 
 trates, in Puritan grey ; Nicasius de Sille, the Lord 
 Councillor, in velvet and gold lace ; Lord Percy, 
 distinguishable by his English hat and plume and 
 riding-cloak ; and conspicuous among them all, " His 
 High Mightiness, the Lord Director," as he was fond 
 of hearing himself called. His vest was scarlet, and 
 his breeches yellow. A brave sword dangled at his 
 side ; and even his wooden leg, strapped with silver 
 bands, had a brave look. With due awe and cere 
 mony, the magistrates conducted him to the Hall, and 
 left him with profound obeisance ; for which attention 
 he regarded himself with great complacency. 
 
 The stately drawing-room was open, and cheerful 
 in the warm light of a crackling fire in the wide 
 chimney-place. The confusion of arrival was over 
 before Constance came in. She advanced with no 
 slight heart-beating to meet this doughty Governor, 
 whom she so much dreaded, yet wished to see. She 
 was not quite sure, after all that Sir Henry had told
 
 48 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 her, whether he would suffer her head to remain fast 
 upon her shoulders or not. If he happened to think 
 the curls, or the simple roll at the back of her head, a 
 reproach to the ribbon-bedecked braids of the Amster 
 dam belles, how did she know but he would shave 
 the whole off at one sweep of his valorous sword ? 
 Doubless the awe with which she approached him, 
 pleased him ; for he immediately greeted her with a 
 kiss on either cheek. She was not used to this Dutch 
 mode of salutation, and dared not raise her eyes to 
 behold this Gorgon, who was as likely to deal a blow 
 as a kiss. But a question unexpectedly kind made 
 her look suddenly and full into his rubicund face. 
 She did not soon forget it. A wide, bald forehead ; 
 arched brows, now raised almost to a point ; small, 
 penetrating eyes, and a prominent curved nose, were 
 features too marked not to make a distinct impression 
 at this first glance. He regarded the timid girl 
 before him, as if wondering to find her there, and 
 finished his inquiries with the exclamation, 
 
 " By my troth, you would make a fine Christ-child 
 next Christmas. I will tell Dame Zwaller myself." 
 
 De Sille, the councillor, explained to Constance the 
 honorable office proposed for her, which was only in 
 gauzy disguise to distribute gifts from a Christmas 
 tree. He delighted her with accounts of many Ger 
 man customs of the Holidays. The announcement 
 of dinner broke the pleasant chat, but it was resumed 
 again at table by the goodness of Lady Moody, who 
 placed the fatherly De Sille next to Constance, keep 
 ing Lord Percy attentive to herself and the Director.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 49 
 
 The discussion of the rights of patentees, and some 
 sharp strokes from Sir Henry as to usurping such 
 rights, would have waxed too -warm for civility, had 
 not the sumptuous dinner and the succeeding meer 
 schaums soothed all irritability. 
 
 Constance withdrew at the earliest possible moment, 
 going for quiet's sake to the deserted library. She 
 was but just there, when the door opened softly and 
 Omanee glided in without a word of salute. She 
 brought, as a gift, a curiously wrought basket of bass- 
 wood fibres, interwoven with fine, brilliant feathers, 
 and elegantly shaped. 
 
 " Oh, how beautiful this is ! " exclaimed Constance. 
 " I am glad you have come." Her mute visitor stood 
 unmoved, her arms folded in her mantle. Constance 
 talked and gestured to no purpose. Then she remem 
 bered her promise, found pencil and paper and began 
 rapidly to sketch the forest beauty. She succeeded in 
 transferring a similarity, if not a likeness of the beau 
 tiful face and stately form, the picturesque robe and 
 wampum-girdle, the plum aged mantle, and the neck 
 lace of white shells pierced and strung upon a scarlet 
 cord. The sight of it, completed, won a smile from 
 Oraanee. 
 
 " Good ! good ! " she said. Then she wished to 
 possess the magic pencil. Constance allowed her to 
 guide it over the paper. Finding that in her own 
 hand it produced nothing but random lines, she threw 
 it down, and passing her fingers slowly over Con 
 stance's head and eyes, indicated that the power was 
 there. She touched her hair and smoothly fair features, 
 3
 
 50 CONSTASTCE AYLMER. 
 
 tlie shoulders just visible beneath a fine laced hand 
 kerchief, and the round white arms within the open 
 sleeve, with the mingled fear and admiration that a 
 little child might feel when venturing its hand upon 
 the marble image of its own beauty. Her eyes at last 
 fell covetously upon a small gold pin that fastened the 
 gossamer kerchief. Constance perceived it, and, im 
 mediately* unloosing it, gave it the place of the long 
 sharp thorn which fastened Omanee's robe. At this 
 moment Lady Moody entered with Lord Percy. 
 Smiling a welcome to the Indian girl, she passed to 
 Constance. 
 
 " I desire thee to divert our guest while he remains. 
 Our business wall have no interest for him. The coun 
 cillor will soon depart with him for ~New Utrecht." 
 Saying this, she returned again to the drawing-room. 
 Nothing could have been more pleasing to Lord 
 Percy than this tete-a-tete. But his eyes had been 
 instantly attracted to Ornanee. He stood silently 
 gazing at her while Lady Moody remained, with such 
 bold admiration that she sullenly turned her back. 
 
 " "What a splendid creature ! " he exclaimed at last. 
 
 " Tour lordship will offend her. She can read 
 your countenance, if she does not know your words," 
 said Constance. 
 
 Omanee cast a glance at the gayly costumed 
 gallant, and turned toward the door. He intercepted 
 her. She looked at him contemptuously, and then at 
 her new friend, wbo arose to expostulate." 
 
 '" You forget that I have never seen a Pocahontas. 
 This mantle, these ornaments, are novelties in costume.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEU. 51 
 
 This wonderful border! "What is it? " he queried, lay 
 ing his hand upon the trimming of quills. Omanee 
 struck it from his touch, and, too quick for him to 
 interfere again, glided out of the room. 
 
 " I warned you of offence. Though uncivilized, 
 she is as conscious of offered rudeness as one of your 
 own country," was Constance's earnest rebuke. 
 
 " Your plain speech never leaves me long ignorant 
 of my offences," he returned, seating himself near her. 
 " "With you to check my wild impulses, what might I 
 not become ? I am sorry to have so often forfeited 
 your good opinion by my thoughtless rudeness, but 
 you would not judge me too hardly if you knew how 
 isolated from softening influences I have lived. My 
 mother died in my boyhood my father a few years 
 later. An only sister entered a convent. I have since 
 gone like a thistle seed, blown hither and thither by 
 chance. I return to Castle Cairne at long intervals, 
 but for the most part roam restlessly in search of a 
 happiness that I never find. The first sight of your 
 face recalled that of my pure sister, lost to me now. 
 It filled me too with a sense of what I am alone, and 
 what I might be in a home brightened by such 
 gracious presence as yours." He paused as if over 
 come by early recollections, and was lost in sad 
 thought. Constance's sympathy was aroused. She 
 remembered her own losses. She reproached herself 
 for her harsh judgment, and wondered that she had 
 not before discovered so tender a heart under his 
 frivolous exterior. Lord Percy saw that her eyes were 
 intently fixed upon him.
 
 52 CONSTANCE ATLMEE. 
 
 " You know the desolateness of a home from 
 which all have gone," he continued, "but ah! you do 
 not know the weariness of a heart that can claim the 
 love of none. You have a mother in Lady Moody 
 a brother in Sir Henry. But to whom can I turn in 
 suffering ? Who gladdens at the sound of rny voice ? 
 Not one. Even you, to whom my whole soul has 
 turned even you have deigned me only cold words 
 and reproaches, when I have yearned for the sweet 
 gentleness you hold for others." 
 
 " I am sorry," said Constance, overcome by the 
 extreme sadness of his tone and manner. " Indeed, 
 I am sorry ever to have pained you. I did not know 
 
 " You will deal gently with my offences, then. 
 You would forgive them all, for the sake of the love I 
 bear you, if you could but know the half of it," he 
 continued, drawing nearer. " Can you not make the 
 rest of my sad life a joy ? Can you not save me from 
 evil ? " 
 
 " /save you from evil ! " she exclaimed, astonished. 
 " I could not do so great a tiling as that." 
 
 " Yes, with your precious love, your innocence, 
 your truth : it would lift me heavenward. "Will you 
 not love me ? Speak, Constance ! " 
 
 She was bewildered. Sympathy and pity had 
 awakened feelings she could not understand. Ought 
 she to make this miserable man happy ? The shadow 
 of another rose before her. Her heart beat so fast 
 and heavy that the delicate kerchief rose at every 
 throb. She was silent. But when he stole his arm
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 53 
 
 around her, she turned away her head and attempted 
 to leave him. 
 
 " I do not, I cannot love you, my lord. Do not 
 speak of it." 
 
 He would not release her, and bending till his 
 lips almost touched her cheek, whispered, 
 
 " You shall live in my beautiful home old Castle 
 Cairne and Lady Moody shall come with yon. Oh ! 
 Constance, make glad the life of an unhappy man. It 
 is in your power. Say Yes ! " 
 
 "]S T o ! no ! my lord, I cannot," she pleaded, shud 
 dering at the thought of the weird, grim castle and 
 this man its master. " Pray let me go." She strug 
 gled to be released, but he held her fast. 
 
 " Hear me, Constance. May I hope yet to win 
 your love ? " 
 
 " Impossible ! It is not right that I should promise 
 hope. Pray let me go." 
 
 " Constance Aylmer, you must shall be my wife ! 
 You shall ! I swear it by this ! " he exclaimed, hold 
 ing her firmly and imprinting kisses on brow, cheek, 
 and lip. 
 
 At this she became entirely calm. She raised her 
 head loftily, her delicate nostrils dilated, her lips curl 
 ed with pride. Her timid blushes were gone. She 
 was pale as a statue. She suffered her hands to remain 
 imprisoned in his, without an effort to withdraw them. 
 And her eyes ! With what a flash of indignation they 
 met his ! They stood thus an instant, he quite taken 
 by surprise. 
 
 "You have taken advantage," said she, " of a
 
 54 CONSTANCE ATLMER. 
 
 sympathy which you have now as thoroughly extin 
 guished, as you before had kindled. When you have 
 the honor to release me, I am ready to go." 
 
 Her majesty and dignity were not to he resisted. 
 Lord Percy relinquished her hands instantly. She 
 turned, and with a deliberate, stately step left the room. 
 He gazed after her, astonished. He was angry now at 
 himself. 
 
 " What a fool ! madman ! to spoil that which 
 was so well begun ! " He stood flushed and scowling. 
 He ground his teeth. " I will have her yet ! : ' He 
 paced the room, stopping now and then, his head 
 bent, his face working intensely, his eyes blazing. 
 " She is not to be tampered with. She is no child. 
 She is lofty ! Royal ! But I will have her yet. Yes, 
 I will have her ! " He could have growled like a 
 raged tiger, so great was the tempest within him. 
 Voices in the hall cautioned him to restraint. He 
 pressed his hands over his eyes to collect and master 
 himself. Presently the door opened, and Councillor de 
 Sille announced his readiness to proceed to New 
 Utrecht. He was too preoccupied to notice the pas 
 sion that agitated the face of Lord Percy.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 55 
 
 YI. 
 
 LADY MOODY was still in earnest converse with the 
 Governor. She had spoken in so plain terms against 
 his proceedings, that he was offended at her boldness, 
 and replied in high passion. She expected nothing 
 less. A year had scarcely passed since the same mag 
 istrates she defended were foremost in a petition from 
 several townships, for redress against various acts of 
 tyranny. In case of refusal, they had threatened to 
 apply to the superior council of the Netherlands. The 
 Governor's only reply was, to " disperse, and not as 
 semble again upon such business." Lady Moody 
 well knew that this offence was not forgotten, and she 
 had not scrupled to charge his present action to its 
 account. She waited calmly therefore till the little 
 tempest subsided. Then she replied, 
 
 " Thee need not be angry with me, friend, because 
 I do not oil my tongue with pleasant lies. I speak 
 truly when I say thoti art too hard upon the most 
 peaceable citizens in all thy dominions. The men 
 whom thee would appoint are strangers of thine 
 own nation, and would produce only discord in our 
 English town. Complaints would clatter in thine ears 
 like hail. Thy revenge would turn upon thee and 
 rend thy peace. 1 pray thee, as a Christian Ruler, 
 deal justly." i 
 
 There was no cringing in word or manner, and no
 
 66 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 taunt in her calmness. She spoke with an earnest 
 candor that commanded his respect, and so persuasive 
 and gentle withal were the tones of her voice, that it 
 soothed and controlled him. . He serenely replied, 
 
 " You ply me wrongly. As a Christian Ruler, I am 
 bound not to recognize the election of Baxter and 
 Hubbard, and to install in their places those who will 
 enforce the decree that the Reformed worship alone 
 shall be tolerated. I am bound by oath to the States 
 General to see it executed." 
 
 " Friend Petrus, thee need not wrongly construe 
 thine oath, nor keep back that part of thy instruc 
 tions which only forbids our worship in public. We 
 have no meeting-house in Gravesend. We worship 
 in our houses, and thee cannot disturb us there by 
 any right." At this, the Director's face grew red and 
 threatening. Lady Moody continued firmly, 
 
 " Our patent secures us liberty of conscience. Its 
 violation would tarnish thine honor. William Kirft, 
 who gave it, left us unmolested. I look to thee to be 
 no 'less generous than thy predecessor, and to grant 
 even the half of that freedom which thee claims for 
 thine own persuasion." 
 
 Had any other than the good Lady Moody spoken 
 thus, the boldness would have cost her liberty. The 
 Director furiously struck his fist upon the polished 
 table exclaiming, 
 
 " Baxter and Hubbard shall not ride over me with 
 their straight coats. I'll not ratify the scoundrels ! So 
 hear me, Saint Nicholas ! " Another thwack on the 
 table-top helped the assertion. Silence followed.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 57 
 
 Then said Lady Moody, as mildly as if the Director 
 had not shown anger, 
 
 " Thee has no need to call upon the saints. Tea 
 or nay for thine answer will suffice." She extended 
 her hand across the table. "Now, friend, lay thine 
 hand upon mine and say, for peace sake, who thee 
 will have for our ruling magistrates. I only insist 
 upon Englishmen. I ask this for thy peace as well 
 as ours." He could not intimidate her. Her self- 
 control shamed him. Her confidence in extending 
 her hand overcame him. He hesitated a moment, 
 smiled, took it, and said kindly, 
 
 " God knows I will, for peace sake, and for your 
 sake. Choose the magistrates yourself." 
 
 " If the people accept my choice, will thee abide 
 by it?" 
 
 " By my honor, I will. Write quickly." 
 
 Lady Moody wrote two names upon a slip of paper, 
 acd gave it to him. He read, and nodded assent. 
 
 " Here, Sir Henry, bear the message yourself. 
 Tell them to accept my Lady's choice, or I'll send them 
 a couple of schepens who will straighten them, I'll 
 warrant." Sir Henry delivered as much of this mes 
 sage as he saw fit to the citizens, who impatiently 
 waited at the Town House to know the Governor's 
 temper in the matter. Applause and doubt greeted 
 the decision. Was it wise to yield in any degree to 
 the dictation of the Director ? Would it not prove 
 disastrous to their freedom in the end ? And was it 
 not beyond all precedent for a woman to nominate 
 the town officers ? Was it not illegal ? The discussion 
 3*
 
 58 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 was spirited and prolonged. The farther it advanced, 
 the more threatening it grew. Sir Henry, fearing at 
 last that some worthy gossip might carry these pro 
 ceedings to the Director's ear, threatened them with 
 the rule of the schepens and the loss of the charter. 
 This quieted the dispute, and the choice of Lady 
 Moody was accepted, and a vote of thanks returned 
 to her and the Governor. 
 
 The Councillor and Lord Percy returned late in 
 the evening. Constance escaped to her own room on 
 their arrival. Making herself comfortable in a warm 
 wrapper, and cosily grouping the deep chair, the foot 
 stool, the tripod stand and tall wax-light, she took for 
 a companion a favorite book of Mordaunt's which he 
 had recommended for her entertainment. Pencil- 
 notes and marked passages added to the interest of 
 every page. She was admitted into the sanctum of his 
 thoughts, without feeling his watchful eyes. The very 
 handwriting had a charm of its own. So she read and 
 dreamed, and dreamed and read, caring nothing for 
 the good-night voices, thinking nothing of the hush 
 that settled upon the household. Leaning back in the 
 cushioned chair, busy with her own sweet thoughts, 
 she fell fast asleep. The candle slowly burned away. 
 At last it flickered and flared, sunk almost into dart- 
 ness, flamed up again without waking her, and then 
 went out in a puff of pungent smoke, that curled about 
 her head, and roused her with a sense of suffocation. 
 She thought she had slept but a moment, till she 
 remembered how tall the candle was when she closed 
 her eyes. She was frightened to find herself in the
 
 COXSTANCE AYLMEK. 59 
 
 dark at midnight. The' door was open too. If that 
 were only shut ! 
 
 " Happily this is not old Castle Cairne," she said 
 to herself, smiling, " else I might well fear the sight 
 of ancient knights and ghostly ladies." She began 
 hastily to unloose her dress. Suddenly she stopped 
 and listened. That was a footstep ! Nor a ghost's 
 either ! Stealthily, quickly it passed along the hall. 
 Constance stood rigid as stone. It went down the 
 stairs. Should she fly now. to her aunt's chamber ? 
 She could not stir. It was as if nightmare possessed 
 her. The library door creaked. She thought her heart 
 beat as loudly as the clock and would betray her, but 
 she neither dared to go nor stay, and so stood terrified. 
 Waiting a long time and hearing no sound, she began 
 to believe the whole a fancy. Trying to soothe her 
 own fears, yet standing like a statue, she heard the 
 footsteps again upon the stairs. This time she sprang 
 toward the door, closed it with a force that rang 
 through the house, leaned against it with all her 
 strength, and held the latch till her fingers were numb. 
 The noise alone would have frightened ghosts back to 
 their resting-places, much more a cowardly prowler. 
 She did not think of this. She thought only of that 
 tall, powerful man who held her yesterday in his 
 grasp. An army of Black Knights were not half so 
 terrible. What wonder, then, that she guarded the 
 door till the coming of morning was announced by the 
 crowing of the cock ; then believing all was well, threw 
 herself upon the bed and slept. 
 
 The guests had risen, breakfasted, and gone. Still
 
 60 CONSTANCE AYLMEB. 
 
 Constance did not appear. "Thinking she might be ill, 
 Lady Moody went to her room and found her just awa 
 kened, and lying there in her wrapper of yesterday. 
 
 "Has thy good sense left thee, Constance?" she 
 asked, amazed. 
 
 " I was foolish, Annt Deborah, but oh ! so fright 
 ened ! " She told how she had watched, and why. 
 
 " I heard no stir, save the noise of thy door. I 
 thought little of that. But why did thee charge it to 
 Edgardo Percy? Perhaps Friend Stnyvesant was 
 ill, or. the Councillor may have sought warmth in the 
 library." 
 
 " The Governor could not tread like that with his 
 wooden-leg, neither has the fatherly Councillor such 
 stealth in his heart. How then conld he put it in his 
 foot ? " Constance shook her head. 
 
 " Thou art paying a sorry compliment to thy coun 
 tryman. If it was he, doubtless he was careful not to 
 disturb us. Thee mistook his kindness for stealth. I 
 recollect Rose told me the coals were opened on the 
 hearth. Thy reading turned thy head last night." 
 Lady Moody took up the book that lay upon the floor 
 just where it had fallen from Constance's sleepy 
 fingers. 
 
 " Let me take it, Aunt Deborah," she said, unwilling 
 that other eyes than her own should read the under 
 lined passages. Lady Mcodj* noticed the blush steal 
 ing over her face, and laid the book down unopened. 
 
 " Hasten and dress thyself, my daughter. Thee 
 must not disappoint Mary Tilton, who looks for thy 
 coming this morning."
 
 COXSTANCE AYLMER. 61 
 
 YII. 
 
 THE monotony of the following weeks was only 
 broken by two 'visits from Lord Percy. Constance 
 escaped the first by a fortunate absence. At the sec 
 ond, she was not to be found, which Lord Percy 
 grimly suspected to be a wilful disappearance. Soon 
 after a messenger came from Dame Zwaller, claiming 
 the promised visit. She urged Constance's return with 
 the escort the next morning, in order to arrive in time 
 for Elsie Roosevelt's birthday. 
 
 New Amsterdam did not look, under the snow of 
 winter, as at her first arrival in the bright autumn 
 days, and she observed it now more leisurely and more 
 composedly from the ferryman's boat, than from the 
 ship that brought her to a new country. The mud walls 
 of the Fort were topped and rounded with the white 
 snow, and the stone bastions bravely defined its limits. 
 Upon the outermost bastion toward the river stood a 
 windmill and a tall flagstaff, where signals were hoisted 
 upon the arrival of ships in the bay, or where the 
 Prince's flag floated on gala days. The new church, 
 with its square tower, its weather-cock and bells, and 
 double peaked roof, rose prominently above the ram 
 parts. The Governor's house, of Holland brick, stood 
 next the church. Its red-tiled roof was visible above 
 the walls of the Fort, though now it was sheeted with 
 white, as were all the houses. The reed-thatched roofs
 
 62 CONSTANCE AYLMEU. 
 
 could only be distinguished by the chimneys of plas 
 tered boards ; the tiled roofs, by the better ones of brick 
 or cobble-stones. The walls of the houses, painted in 
 blocks of yellow, blue, or red, gleamed gayly from 
 under the shelving roofs. The gable ends invariably 
 stood toward the street. 
 
 Near the landing were stone warehouses. Paul 
 Schipper's shop was here, as all the children very 
 well knew. A chubby, dumpy group, in close caps, 
 stood now looking at the wonderful show in the win 
 dow, of little animals moulded in clay, wooden lyres, 
 cakes shaped into shoes and hearts, oil-skin tobacco 
 bags, brightly painted dutch pipes with fat people 
 figured on the bowls, and a host of other toys which 
 the sign over the door affirmed to have come from 
 Holland. Farther up the street stood the imposing 
 Stadt Huys, and beyond was Metje "Wessel's inn. 
 This gave more signs of life than all the toy-shops 
 together, for here tobacco and beer were dispensed to 
 the Herrs who met to talk over the last proclamation, 
 or the latest arrival from the Old World. 
 
 "When Constance arrived at the Zwallers' home, 
 she found them in busy preparation for Elsie's festi 
 val. The wheels and the reels were stowed in their 
 corners, Dame Zwaller had already donned her best 
 tabby gown, and hung a new pocket at her side, filled 
 with worsted balls, ready to begin a gay kassaveika 
 for Christmas. Like all the aristocratic dames, she 
 provided herself with a china cup and saucer and 
 teaspoon, and went early, in order to enjoy a whole 
 afternoon of gossip. Constance and Barbara follow-
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 63 
 
 ed at their leisure. Elsie met them at the door, and 
 assisted to remove their wrappers, eager to see the 
 face of one who was likely to become her rival. She 
 surveyed Constance with a critical glance from head 
 to foot, when unobserved. The rich garnet silk 
 would have become a princess. There was no fault 
 in it. The pearl brooch was simple and becoming. 
 Her hair was without ornament. Elsie fixed her eyes 
 upon the fresh, sweet face. There was an air of grace 
 and purity about her too high for vanity ; that could 
 never stoop to rivalry. Elsie felt this without under 
 standing it, and regarded her only with admiration 
 and love. Her own nature was of another order. 
 Vivacious, coquettish to the last degree, craving con 
 quests as a soldier craves glory, she was in a perpetual 
 state of brilliant excitement. Her eyes sparkled, her 
 white teeth shone, her cheeks glowed; her motions 
 were quick, her voice running always into laughter, 
 her words into merry badinage. Her sympathies 
 were cold. She laughed at the sorrows of her lovers. 
 She was intensely selfish. Yet she was charming in 
 the eyes of more than one of the gallants of Manhat 
 tan, and no one could deny that she was pretty to 
 day. Her long glossy braids, blacker for the inter- 
 plaiting of scarlet ribbons, hung far below her waist. 
 The red stomacher, laced with gold chains (the gift 
 of her last admirer, Nicholas Stuyvesant), closely fitted 
 her round full form ; and a short blue petticoat fully 
 displayed the prettiest foot and ankle in New Am 
 sterdam. 
 
 That this was her eighteenth birthday, was signi-
 
 64 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 fied by the number hung in the centre of the ever 
 green wreaths that decorated the walls of the rooms. 
 A lyre of moss over the fire-place was also duly in 
 spected by the arriving guests. Among those who 
 seated themselves in an inevitable row, after saluting 
 friends, Constance noticed a wiry, restless little wo 
 man, whose round black eyes shot hither and thither, 
 as if intent upon knowing every person, and every 
 article of dress, as if to secure the pith of every re 
 mark and every incident. Constance's unfortunate 
 attention did not escape her. Flattered by it, she in 
 stantly occupied the nearest chair, and resumed her 
 knitting. The needles clicked so fast that one would 
 never have believed they raised a solitary loop of 
 yarn, had not the rapid growth of the dangling stock 
 ing proved it beyond dispute. Her tongue clicked in 
 good time with the needles. She did not hesitate to 
 address Constance. 
 
 " Nicholas Stuyvesant must have helped to make 
 the lyre. I saw him bring a covered basket yester 
 day. He came into the street by the landgate, and 
 must have been to the woods for moss. I ran for my 
 hood to see if he came here, and truly he did come. 
 Elsie wont refuse him the Director's son. Will 
 she?" 
 
 " I know nothing of it," replied Constance, 
 amused at the earnestness with which the little wo 
 man talked of her neighbor's affairs. 
 
 " There comes Nicholas himself," whispered Lis- 
 bet. Constance turned with some interest to see him, 
 for she had often heard his name. She was disap-
 
 CONSTANCE AYLilEE. 65 
 
 pointed to see him almost boyish, slight, pale, blue- 
 eyed, and wearing his hair in curls in the English 
 style. His dress was half English. He entered with 
 a careless, languid swing which indicated his creed, 
 " Leave care for to-morrow." 
 
 " ISTicholas is a good fellow, but he is a lazy strip 
 ling," said Lisbet. " He gave Elsie her gold chains 
 this morning. There is no end to his generosity. 
 But it is easy enough to give away other people's earn 
 ings. If he would bend his own back to the burden 
 like his brother, doubtless his guilders would not slide 
 so deftly out of his fingers. He borrows till his debts 
 tease him, and then, to lift him out of trouble, his 
 good brother pays it all. More's the pity for him, that 
 Baltazzar has so soft a heart ! " Constance was 
 shocked at this revelation of family affairs, but re 
 gardless of her troubled look, Lisbet rattled on. 
 
 " There is Baltazzar now, he's his father's staff. 
 The Director would sooner part with his other leg 
 than with that son. Barbara will bring him a fine 
 dowry, wont she ? I know, for I have been in Dame 
 Zwallers loft. She has more quilts and linen and 
 stuffs from her own looms than you will find in another 
 house this side of Holland. And nobody knows how 
 much gold is stowed in the iron chest." Lisbet was 
 forced to stop at the approach of Baltazzar, who came 
 to speak to Constance. After a few words, he went 
 away. In the meantime, a new arrival started Lis- 
 bet's tongue anew. 
 
 " That is Carl Yan Loot, the richest man in Man 
 hattan. You see his clothes are rusty, and his face
 
 66 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 pinched with, hunger and cold. He was a suitor of 
 Elsie's. She told him she would marry him if he 
 would build her a house all of Holland brick, and fill 
 it with gold-laced chairs and silk hangings, and that 
 he must furnish a purse of guilders to roll to beggars 
 on their wedding-day. She sends all the alms-seekers 
 she meets to his door, and punishes him with every 
 petition for money she hears of. He groans at his 
 folly in making love to such a giddy-head." Con 
 stance laughed in spite of herself at all these the 
 miser, the coquette, and the gossipper. Yet she shrank 
 from this rude unveiling of characters, and would 
 gladly have escaped from Lisbet had it been possible 
 without drawing upon herself the eyes of all. The 
 next moment, however, she was glad to retain her 
 neighbor. Lord Percy came in. The buzz that had 
 filled the room ceased at the announcement of his 
 august presence. The mass of curls upon his broad 
 shoulders, his velvet coat gold-laced, the scarlet stock 
 ings topped with Flanders lace, the high-heeled shoes 
 of Spanish leather, attracted the gaze of every one 
 for a moment, and then the buzz of chit-chat was re 
 sumed. Lisbet turned to Constance with a wise nod. 
 
 " Lord Percy will wish this seat. I will find 
 another." 
 
 " Stay ! " said Constance in so commanding a voice 
 that the little gossiper remained in her seat, frightened 
 into a short silence. 
 
 Lord Percy, like any earnest lover, discovered 
 Constance at his first entrance. He saw Lisbet's 
 movement and detention, and understood it. But he
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 67 
 
 was occupied now with Elsie, and, soon after, Herr 
 Roosevelt appointed him to lead Elsie to the great 
 room where the feast was spread, and hither followed 
 all the company. 
 
 This feast was not a French sleight of hand. It 
 was a banquet of solids, every one of which had been 
 watched from the seed, the egg, the tree, by the hostess 
 herself, and finally concocted in tempting forms by 
 her skilful hands. Even the silver was mainly of 
 her earning. The savory smoke of the preparing feast 
 had for some time foretold what was in store. Geese 
 stuffed with chestnuts or prunes, turkey garnished 
 with necklaces of sausage, oly-koeks, noodles swim 
 ming in sauce, pungent saurkraut and a host of lesser 
 dishes left no spaces on the long table. Conspicuous 
 in the centre was a mammoth bowl of punch encircled 
 by eighteen wax-lights, reminders of the happy occa 
 sion. At one end of the table sat Dame Roosevelt, 
 behind a large swinging silver kettle. Her shining 
 face told as plainly as words that she had personally 
 superintended all the brewing and stewing to the 
 latest moment. The guests were seated, the silent 
 grace followed, and then, above all the clatter of 
 serving, rose the voice of Dame Roosevelt as she filled 
 each thimble cup with tea. 
 
 " Stir or bite, neighbor Zwaller ? stir or bite, 
 Lisbet ? Herr Yan Loot, will you stir or bite ? " 
 
 Each suited his own whim as to nibbling the lump 
 of sugar beside his plate while sipping -the fragrant 
 tea, or whether he should permit Dame Koosevelt to 
 sweeten the celestial draught. Herr Yan Loot chose
 
 68 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 the latter, and reserved the lump beside his plate for 
 his rare and solitary cup in his dreary cabin. Lisbet 
 nibbled and chattered right and left, pronouncing 
 every thing perfect, though Herr Zwaller could not 
 see that she took time to touch or taste. 
 
 " This pretty Mistress Ayhner is to be your Christ- 
 child, I hear," whispered she to the burgomaster. 
 
 "Ah ha!" exclaimed he, from the midst of an 
 oly-koeks. 
 
 " The Lord Director himself chose her," continued 
 Lisbet. enjoying his puzzled look. He laid down his 
 oley keok and turned his moon face full upon her. 
 
 "Well, how do you know it?" was the sharp 
 question. 
 
 " Baltazzar told it to Barbara this afternoon," she 
 answered, a little alarmed. The burgomaster's head 
 slowly revolved to the other side where his wife sat 
 intent upon discovering any slovenly flaws in the 
 entertainment. 
 
 " Christiana, do you hear this ? His High Might 
 iness has made an appointment for your Christmas 
 rejoicings." 
 
 " I chose Constance long ago without the aid of 
 the Lord Director, or Lisbet either. Let him see to 
 his state aifairs, and Lisbet to the run of her own 
 tongue." 
 
 Next Herr Roosevelt sat Lord Percy, all devotion 
 to Elsie, except his eyes, which continually wandered 
 across to Constance. She carefully avoided meeting 
 his gaze, and politely listened to all that Nicholas 
 Stuy vesant had to say. But poor Nicholas was absent
 
 COXSTANCE AYLMEE. 69 
 
 and distracted. He felt ill at ease in Constance's 
 grave company. "While he thought her beautiful, he 
 was afraid of her. She had none of the attraction for 
 him that the saucy, flirting Elsie exercised, and he 
 was annoyed and angry to see that Elsie seemed to 
 forget him altogether, and spent all her lively glances 
 upon her new admirer. He felt indignant at Lord 
 Percy too. Had he not spent many an hour with 
 him in friendly chat at the inn ? Had he not confided 
 to him his intentions concerning Elsie ? Had he not 
 devoted himself to him in every way? Gambled, 
 drank, assumed his manner, imitated his dress ? Been, 
 in short, his humble pupil ? This was his friendship 
 then. He did not scruple to win Elsie under the very 
 eyes of his devoted servant. But Nicholas had to 
 endure it, and take his first valuable lesson in self- 
 control. 
 
 Lisbet was not blind to all this. "Whatever she 
 could not discover by leaning forward or backward, 
 she knew by intuition. The knowledge obtained, she 
 felt an irresistible desire to tell it. She could not 
 speak without gossiping. Her head had never con 
 tained anything but her neighbors' affairs, and to be 
 silent concerning them would be simply to become 
 forever dumb. When she opened her mouth there 
 fore, it was with no malice, but the natural overflow 
 of her thoughts. Dame Zwaller's reproof, a little 
 while ago, only caused her to choose a more amiable 
 auditor. With the best possible intentions, she began 
 to entertain Mistress Primley, who sat next below her 
 quietly enjoying the feast.
 
 70 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 " Do you see Lord Percy, yonder ? Elsie is setting 
 her cap for him. She need not take the trouble, for 
 he is to marry that pretty Mistress Aylmer very soon, 
 I hear." Mistress Primley looked aghast at this bit 
 of news. 
 
 " Is it true, Lisbet ? " 
 
 " Yes, I know all about it. He has crossed the 
 ferry twice a week to see her. And the gifts he has 
 bestowed ! The pearl brooch that fastens her kerchief 
 must be one of them. There never was one like it in 
 Amsterdam. You can see for yourself how his very 
 eyes would eat her up." Yes, Mistress Primley saw 
 it all. Her feast was ended. Lisbet might as well 
 have poured gall in her tea. 
 
 " I feared me it would end thus," said she, agitated. 
 My lady may live in a fine castle, but her dear heart 
 will pine. Ah me! no good will come of her seeing 
 that owl." 
 
 " What of the owl ? " queried Lisbet. She was 
 goon in possession of the whole history of the voyage 
 and arrival. Her gossipy soul was delighted. 
 
 Now Elsie's health was drank in many flagons of 
 beer, many pipes were produced, long-winded legends 
 were recited, and the banquet was ended. The tables 
 disappeared. Cato with his fiddle came in, and the 
 sreat room resounded with music and the tread and 
 
 C5 
 
 shuffle of dancing feet. Constance was only a spectator. 
 Lord Percy had opened the dance with Elsie. As 
 soon as he could withdraw, he came to her side and 
 addressed her in his lowest tones. 
 
 " How can I atone for my rudeness at our last
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 71 
 
 meeting? I crave your pardon. Can you not grant 
 it?" 
 
 Constance had no courage to reply as she wished. 
 Her face was downcast and perplexed. 
 
 " Shall I construe your silence in rny favor? " he 
 whispered, bending respectfully. 
 
 "No ! " was the sudden reply. " I can grant your 
 request only on one condition, my lord." 
 
 " What may that be ? " he asked, pleased and eager. 
 
 " That you leave me altogether." She trembled, 
 and dare not encounter his look. He, perceiving her 
 timidity, said boldly, 
 
 "I cannot accept forgiveness upon terms that 
 would fill me with misery. Neither can I leave you 
 now till you grant the pardon I so humbly crave. To 
 prove it, I will kneel to you as to my sovereign, sweet 
 Constance, in the presence of all these witnesses." 
 
 He made a movement as if to drop upon one knee 
 before her. She arose quickly to prevent it. 
 
 " Do you pardon me, then ? " 
 
 " 1 do if you will but leave me now," said she, 
 vexed tears filling her eyes. Lord Percy smiled, bow 
 ed gracefully and went away triumphant. When 
 Constance ventured to look up, she saw Lisbet's curious 
 eyes fixed upon her. That worthy gossip was unable 
 to wait till to-morrow to tell what she imagined she 
 had seen and heard, and, turning quickly about, whis 
 pered to Mistress Prim ley, 
 
 " I heard Lord Percy, with my own ears, say that 
 he loved her, and with my own eyes saw her blushes. 
 There is truly to be a wedding after all that. I won-
 
 72 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 der liow soon it will be ? " Intent upon this question, 
 she went over to Barbara, who was resting after the 
 fatigue of the dance. Poor Mistress Primley went 
 for her cloak and hood, sighing and murmuring over 
 the fate of her protegee. The rest of the matrons 
 were rolling themselves in their mufflers, in order to 
 reach home at the decent hour of nine. A little later, 
 the last vigorous couple who had out waltzed every 
 other, finished with a flourish, and Cato gave a long- 
 drawn scrape across the fiddle-strings, then a short 
 sharp squeak which announced the end of the festivi 
 ties. 
 
 Nicholas Stuyvesant had proudly avoided Elsie the 
 whole evening. He had danced incessantly with the 
 daughter of a rich burgomaster, and, at a moment 
 when he knew Elsie must hear, asked the happiness 
 of escorting the heiress to her father's stoop. But 
 Elsie did not care. His services had been valuable 
 the previous .day, and she possessed a gold chain for 
 her bodice. She enjoyed immensely her new flirta 
 tion with the English nobleman. His flattery elated 
 her. What was it to her, then, if Nicholas went 
 away pained and with a vague feeling that he was 
 loving a woman without a heart ?
 
 COXSTAXCE A.YLMER. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 I 
 
 THE next day, Barbara and Constance sat in the 
 midst of gay bits of ribbon and silk, paper cuttings, 
 little bunches of bright bird plumage, and acorn cups, 
 which they were busily making into fancy articles for 
 the expected Christmas tree. Perle and Engle Zwal- 
 ler, to whom Santa Claus was to transfer them, were 
 at this hour imprisoned in the school-house under the 
 shadow of the Fort, and were wholly innocent of the 
 delightful hurly-burly of brilliant things at home, the 
 moment their feet pattered over the foot-path to school. 
 Barbara was hurrying the work, in order to remove 
 all traces of it before their return. Both she and 
 Constance were so absorbed as not to notice the dou 
 ble stamping of feet upon the stoop, or hear another 
 voice than Herr Z waller's. Dame Zwaller left her 
 spinning-wheel, and made haste to lay a pair of slip 
 pers near the door, lest Mynheer should track the 
 newly sanded floor with his heavy wooden shoes. 
 Constance did not look up even, when the two enter 
 ed. A voice caught her ear that made her start. She 
 turned quickly to meet the smiling face of Mr. Mor- 
 daunt. She was surprised, agitated, confused at his 
 sudden coming, and in rising overturned her work- 
 basket, so that its contents went rolling over the floor 
 in every direction. She was ashamed of her confu 
 sion, and he standing there so composed with his al- 
 4
 
 74 CONSTANCE AYLHEK. 
 
 ways watchful, critical eyes upon her ! He was pleas 
 ed at her embarrassment, pleased to find her there in 
 the midst of childish work. It was better than seeing 
 her at Moody Hall busy with a bridal trousseau. If 
 she was to become Lady Percy, there was a respite at 
 all events. But what did the happy glow in her face 
 at sight of himself mean ? Thinking thus in the in 
 tervals of greeting, a painful suspense of fear and 
 hope oppressed him. He looked again at Constance. 
 Her face was quiet and cold now, her manner reserv 
 ed. He did not imagine how heavily her heart beat 
 beneath it all. His own sank like lead, as he judged 
 that friendship alone had moved her. And yet it was 
 such a rare glow that had lighted her countenance. 
 
 Mr. Mordaunt talked with Herr Zwaller of the 
 events of his journey, turning now and then to Con 
 stance, to explain items of interest to her. Afterward 
 the Herr went away, and only Dame Zwaller remained, 
 with her ever noisy wheel accompanying the chit-chat, 
 but instead of interrupting, it seemed only to make 
 conversation flow the more readily. The hours flew 
 swiftly to both Mordaunt and Constance. Pie gave 
 himself up to the happiness of her society for this 
 once more. Perhaps it was the last time. He was 
 obliged to sit near her, that the buzz of the wheel 
 might not drown his voice ; he offered suggestions 
 about the little silk bags she was making ; he picked 
 up her scissors when she dropped them ; he found her 
 missing thimble rolling away, and playfully took her 
 hand and replaced it himself, telling her he wished 
 she would drop it again. The hours were bewitched.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 75 
 
 In tlie meantime, Barbara had gone to the Fort 
 to get Nicholas to come and act Knecht Rupert that 
 evening. He was too much out of humor, but offer 
 ed to go to the bowery and bring Baltazzar, who never 
 refused any kind office. Then she hastened to secure 
 Elsie's presence, that the evening need not pass with 
 out a frolic. Elsie's mother was ill. 
 
 " Never mind," said Elsie ; " Mistress Primley 
 shall come and stay with her. I shall be glad to get 
 away. A house is hateful and dull with sick people 
 in it." 
 
 " But," said Barbara, feeling guilty for tempting 
 her, " your mother may need you. She will not be 
 pleased." Barbara thought of the mother's labors to 
 make her daughter's birthday happy. " I will put 
 off Knecht Rupert till another evening," she added, 
 " rather than take you from her." 
 
 " Fie ! " laughed Elsie. " Mistress Primley will 
 serve her better. She complains that I make her 
 broth too salt, that I never place her pillows right, and 
 so, so. I can't please her. Besides, it is rueful to 
 sit all the evening by a faint taper and keep silence. 
 You may be sure I shall coine to see your Knecht 
 Rupert," 
 
 The all-dutiful Barbara went home with an uneasy 
 sense of having done something very wrong herself. 
 She would still have put off the irolic, but for Baltaz 
 zar, who would not fail to come all the way from the 
 bowery. And he did come. 
 
 As soon as supper was served and carried away, 
 there was much whispering and laughter, and going
 
 76 CONSTANCE AYI.MER. 
 
 in and out of an adjoining room. Elsie was closeted 
 there also; but Nicholas remained quiet and thought 
 ful, amusing himself occasionally with teasing the 
 children, who, half frightened and half pleased, waited 
 the advent of the wonderful Rupert. There was an 
 unexpected addition to the guests. Lisbet, who had 
 seen the arrival of a stranger that day across the 
 street, and watched Barbara going to and fro, could 
 not resist catching up her wheel after tea and running 
 into neighbor Zwaller's to see what all the commotion 
 was about. Once arrived, she was a fixture at the 
 fireside. She did not fail to survey Mr. Mordaunt 
 from the top of his brown locks to the tip of his 
 pointed boot, and decided him every inch a gentle 
 man. 
 
 "Who is he ? " she whispered to Constance at the 
 first opportunity. " He looks the nobleman far better 
 than Lord Percy. Who may he be ? " 
 
 " A friend of Aunt Deborah. He is a Virginian, 
 I believe," replied Constance, endeavoring to look in 
 different, and changing the subject. But Lisbet was 
 not satisfied. She was soon conversing with Mordaunt 
 himself, as if she had known him all her life. She 
 felt no awe or reserve. If he had been the Prince 
 just from Holland, she would have entertained him 
 all the same with the latest news in New Amsterdam. 
 Mr. Mordaunt knew of her, and it occurred to him 
 immediately that she might be able to tell him what 
 he most wished to know. The first moment that 
 Constance was called away, and while Perlc and En- 
 gle were noisily romping with Nicholas, he adroitly
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 77 
 
 al]uded to Lord Percy. This was enough to lead Lis- 
 bet off in full description of all she knew and all that 
 she did not know, but had repeated so often that she 
 now honestly told it for truth. Every word went like a 
 dagger through his heart. He was newly disappointed. 
 He could not understand Constance. The unconscious 
 betrayals of love in the happy afternoon just gone, 
 had thrilled him with hope. But she was capable of 
 giving her hand to one for the sake of a title, while 
 her heart was possibly another's. The tumult within 
 kept him silent, while Lisbet rattled on about indif 
 ferent matters, till interrupted by the jingling of bells 
 and the announcement that Rupert had come. 
 
 One that looked like a giant, wrapped in furs, 
 stalked in. He wore a tall fur cap, with three fox 
 tails hanging behind ; a heavy robe, edged with bells 
 that tinkled at every step ; great boots, lengthened 
 out like Esquimaux snow-shoes; and two large quivers 
 strapped on his back, one tilled witli cakes, the other 
 with birch-rods. Perle flew to her mother, scrambled 
 upon her lap and hid her face in her bosom. Engle 
 stood bravely up, with his hands clasped tightly be 
 hind his back, and his eyes wide open. Not a foot 
 would he stir before Rupert, even though he had 
 gone over him like a car of Juggernaut. So Rupert 
 stopped, looked smilingly down upon him, and spoke 
 in a voice that seemed to come from a cave in a 
 mountain. Engle was awed and amazed that Knecht 
 Rupert knew all his conduct at school, and that he 
 had thrown paper balls to the top of the wall that 
 very day. He thought Rupert had been down the
 
 78 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 school-house chimney, and saw them sticking on the 
 wall. But his monitor reprimanded him kindly, and, 
 to his great relief, took down the load of cakes in 
 stead of the rods, and showered them over him and 
 Perle. Both Perle and Engle were ready to throw 
 up their arms in delight that no rods were left for 
 them, for now they were sure of having the Christ 
 mas tree. When Rupert turned to go, Engle followed 
 him at a safe distance, bent upon seeing him perform 
 the feat of flying up the chimney ; but when he was 
 able to open the door that closed behind Rupert, no 
 body was there. So he ran quickly to the chimney, 
 and shouted with all his might, 
 
 " You all up ? " 
 
 " All up ! " said a muffled voice that Engle was 
 sure came from the chimney-top, and he went back 
 with intense satisfaction to distribute his cakes among 
 the company. A space was now cleared for blind- 
 man's-buff. Just as the game was about to begin, a 
 loud knock startled them. 
 
 " Knecht Rupert has come back," exclaimed 
 Engle. No, it was Lord Percy. The burgomaster 
 ushered him in, and hastened to obtain a chair from 
 the upturned furniture, apologizing for the confusion. 
 He begged not to spoil their entertainment. He had 
 come only for a few moments to make his adieus, 
 having to leave early next morning on urgent busi 
 ness. He was going to the New England colonies, 
 and expected to be absent some weeks. 
 
 " Lisbet was right, then. This is the reason of the 
 delay of the marriage," thought Mr. Mordaunt, who
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 79 
 
 showed himself stiffly reserved in the new presence. 
 After a few words with the Zwallers, Lord Percy ap 
 proached Constance, who had remained at the up 
 per end of the room with the blinder still in her 
 hand. 
 
 " Once more, Constance Aylmer, may I return to 
 claim you as mine ? " 
 
 "Never ! " she replied, in a low, calm voice. 
 
 " You are obstinate. You will repent it yet. I 
 never abandon an undertaking till it is accomplished. 
 I leave my heart with you, and shall demand its 
 equivalent." 
 
 " "Which you will never receive ! " The stern 
 decision of her words and look would have checked 
 any other than him. He was the more reckless for 
 her coldness, and seizing her hand as once before, 
 kissed it passionately, turned quickly away, bowed his 
 adieus to the assembled company and went out. What 
 a marvellous change this sudden raid worked in those 
 who remained. Constance stood still, pale and fright 
 ened. Elsie's vanity was wounded at the slight recog 
 nition of herself, after all his adulation only the evening 
 before. A great load was lifted from Nicholas' heart 
 at the departure of Lord Percy, for more reasons than 
 concerned Elsie. As for Mr. Mordaunt, his very soul 
 was on fire. He had the evidence now of his own 
 eyes that Constance was affianced to Lord Percy, and 
 the words had been pronounced too distinctly for 1dm 
 not to hear, "return to claim you as mine." He 
 could not stay near her longer. He could not bear to 
 look upon her face. Pleading illness, he turned to bid
 
 80 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 Dame Zwaller good evening. Barbara endeavored in 
 vain to detain him. 
 
 " You may go in peace, Mr. Mordaunt, if you will 
 promise to return to us Christmas eve," said she, inter 
 cepting him as he was about to depart. 
 
 " Impossible ! I cannot," he replied, casting a look 
 at Constance, who was earnestly waiting his answer. 
 Barbara withdrew froni the doorway, a little chagrined 
 at his manner, and allowed him to pass out. He went 
 to Metje Wessel's inn, making himself as wretched as 
 was possible. The party he left were scarcely in better 
 humor. 
 
 ' ; I hope Knecht Rupert will carry him a bag of 
 ashes to-night, for spoiling our sport," said Elsie, pout 
 ing her red lips and turning away in a pet from 
 Nicholas. He needed but very slight repnlse now, 
 and went quietly to talk with Constance. This did 
 not suit Elsie. 
 
 " I am going home. I have pressing business that 
 requires my attention too," said she, mocking the 
 tone of the two gallants who had so unceremoniously 
 taken themselves away. " Come, Lisbet, are you not 
 going ? You must begin early to-morrow, or you will 
 not be able to recount all that has happened. Good 
 night, Barbara." She put on her hood and cloak, and 
 was out of the gate before Nicholas was half ready, 
 and, if she had not condescended to wait there, he 
 would have disdained to follow her. 
 
 The good-natured Barbara could not understand 
 the queer humor of her guests. She wondered and 
 chatted about it till she talked herself to sleep that
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 81 
 
 night, not knowing that while Constance answered her 
 cheerfully, her cheeks and pillow were wet with tears. 
 She was as unhappy as Mordauiit. It takes so little 
 to make lovers miserable ! 
 
 The following days were as busy as those that had 
 gone before ; there was so little that could be bought 
 for gifts, so much that must be patiently made into 
 comely shape or use. Dame Zwaller was as occupied 
 with preparations for Christinas, as any modern house 
 wife for Thanksgiving, and Barbara's services were 
 often needed. Naturally indolent, she much preferred 
 to sit by the fire and mould clay sheep and shepherds, 
 than to spend all the morning frying noodles or making 
 pigeon pies. There was often a struggle in her mind 
 between self-indulgence and filial duty, though one 
 would hardly suspect it, so readily did she always 
 answer her mother's call. 
 
 " But," said she, on one of these busy days, " when 
 you come to my house, good mother, you will see the 
 milk in stone bowls that will never want to shine ; the 
 floors shall be dyed as yellow as the sun, and I will 
 put iron dogs in the fire-places, that will need no fine 
 polish every day, and so my Minxey will have time 
 to fry and stew and bake, and leave me to please 
 myself." 
 
 " So, so ! We shall see," laughed her mother. 
 And the preparations, went on, and might have gone 
 on indefinitely, if Christmas had been postponed. But 
 the last day came, and the last touches were the most 
 important. The parlor underwent a thorough renova 
 tion, although Dame Zwaller unfailingly swept, dust-. 
 4*
 
 82 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 ed, and aired it every week, and shut it up again, 
 allowing the children to inspect it only on tip-toe from 
 the door-sill. The floor was now scoured white, waxed, 
 and polished till it shone. The green russet-leathered 
 chairs were carefully dusted, and the silver-lace uncov 
 ered. The flowered tabby curtains were looped back 
 in precise folds, and an extra polish given to the black 
 oak table. Engle and Perle danced about delighted, 
 but after seeing a tall fir-tree carried 'into the forbid 
 den room, they were permitted to behold nothing more, 
 for the key was turned and the tree left for the gifts 
 of the Christ-child. After listening in vain for the 
 fluttering of wings, they went away with little Jansen 
 Miiller and his sister Margaritta, to make a fort of 
 snow like the grand one in which the mighty Governor 
 lived. 
 
 Before dark, Nicholas and Baltazzar came in, then 
 Elsie Roosevelt, and later, Mr. Mordaunt arrived from 
 Gravesend, surprising and pleasing all at his change 
 of purpose. Early in the evening the locked room 
 was thrown open. A huge log in the wide fire-place, 
 fronted with pine knots, threw a brilliant light over 
 the room. In the farthest corner was a cone-shaped 
 tree, shining with wax-lights, and hung with gifts of 
 every color, shape, and use. The tree was firmly 
 planted in a large box filled with earth, and covered 
 with moss to represent a field. A stag with gilded 
 horns, storks, dogs, sheep, and two shepherds with long 
 crooks stood watching their flocks in the field. 
 Above them was suspended an angel, to represent the 
 announcement of the birth of Christ.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 83 
 
 Behind this gay tree, and partly concealed among 
 evergreen boughs, was the dispenser of the gifts, called 
 the Christ-child, to whom Knecht Rupert had given 
 a faithful report. Thin drapery was lightly thrown 
 over the figure, of which only one fair arm and the 
 half-averted face was seen. A pair of transparent 
 wings spread upward. The voice called Herr Zwal- 
 ler. An oil-skin bag, gayly colored by Perle's own 
 hand, a silk purse, silver shoe-buckles, and a porcelain 
 tobacco pipe upon which was finely painted one of 
 the favorite sports in the Fatherland, were the love 
 offerings to him. 
 
 " O, honored Herr, thy children strive thus to as 
 sure thee of their tender love," said the voice. 
 
 " And for thee, good mother, their industry has 
 brought this from the Fatherland." 
 
 Dame Zwaller received a tea-pot of solid silver. 
 Surprise and happy emotions overcame her for a mo 
 ment. She understood now why Engle and Perle 
 had stored away their little earnings, arid why Bar 
 bara had denied herself all new ribbons and the silk 
 bodice she should have had for Elsie's festival. She 
 was moved to take all her children in her arms at 
 once and weep happy tears, had she not feared to as 
 tonish them by such an unwonted show of affection. 
 Now it was too late. Barbara was called. 
 
 " Receive thy tokens of love. May thy truth and 
 thine unfailing duty be as bright a glory in thy fu 
 ture home as in this ! " 
 
 Modest Barbara had not expected so much praise, 
 and was glad to retreat with the shower of beautiful
 
 84 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 things that fell to her share. Among them was a 
 gold bodkin and chain for her bodice, and a pair of 
 stockings with tall clocks of alternate red and blue, 
 like Elsie's. Then Baltazzar was summoned to re 
 ceive a soft eel-skin for his cue, a costly china pipe, 
 and a chain of Barbara's hair, woven by herself. 
 Then the little ones held up their arms for the treas 
 ures that seemed to them endless. It was as if an 
 angelTiad shaken a tree of Paradise, and let fall about 
 them golden fruit and all manner of precious things. 
 They were too elated at the sight to hear any of the 
 gracious words of the Christ-child, and ran away to 
 place the gifts in showy array. Engle began at once 
 to try his bow and arrow, making a target of any 
 body's head, till his father gave him a gilded apple 
 and sent him elsewhere to practise his skill upon it. 
 
 Elsie Roosevelt, who came only as a spectator, was 
 wholly astonished at receiving a golden butterfly, so 
 fine, so delicate, of so exquisite workmanship, that it 
 announced itself foreign and costly. It conveyed a 
 doubtful compliment, but she did not heed this in her 
 desire to know the giver. Could he be Nicholas ? 
 His countenance betrayed nothing. Could Lord 
 Percy have bestowed it 2 - 
 
 " Lisbet alone- can tell me," said she, turning to 
 Mr. Mordaunt. " I have only to give her the faintest 
 hint, and she will pursue it to the death, like a hound. 
 I need allow her but one day, either." 
 
 ." Can she furnish you with sound evidence ? " he 
 asked, with a smile of doubt. 
 
 " Sound or not, it is all one to her," added Elsie.
 
 CONSTANCE ATLMER. 85 
 
 " Yoa slander an absent friend," said Nicholas. 
 
 " Tru||| is not slander," retorted Elsie, turning 
 away from him and devoting all her smiles and bright 
 glances to Mr. Mordaunt. At that moment, Con 
 stance came in, divested of wings and gauze, and was 
 led by Herr Zwaller to the tree to receive her share 
 of the tokens. A little box was placed in her hand. 
 She opened it. Two rings lay at the bottom. One 
 bore the letter P emblazoned in diamonds ; the other 
 was a coiled' serpent of fine gold, its ugly head reared, 
 and fangs protruding as if to strike. Its eyes were 
 two rubies. Constance stood looking in the box, so 
 silent and so abstracted that the curiosity of the look 
 ers-on was excited. 
 
 " "What is it so wonderful ? " cried Elsie, peeping 
 over her shoulder. " Oh what a magnificent sparkle ! 
 Alas ! my butterfly is nothing ! " As Constance 
 raised her eyes, she met the inquiring gaze of Mr. 
 Mordaunt. 
 
 " He will recognize the letter," she thought, " and 
 will find new cause to distrust me. But he may mis 
 judge me if he chooses." She gave him the box 
 proudly, expecting to see his face assume the cold, 
 haughty look she had seen there before, with less 
 reason to provoke it. Instead, he carefully examined 
 the two rings, admired them and returned them to 
 her, smiling, and fixing his eyes upon hers in a man 
 ner so full of confidence and love that she was abash 
 ed. Then she remembered he had been to Gravesend, 
 and Sir Henry must have told him of Lord Percy's 
 false representation.
 
 86 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 " The serpent-coil reminds me of the story of the 
 poisoned ring," said Mr. Mordaunt. "J* should be 
 loath to wear it." Constance looked at it again. She 
 fancied she saw a choice offered her of which the 
 rings were emblematical. Either was hateful. She 
 quietly closed the box and replaced it among the 
 branches of the tree. 
 
 " Herr Zwaller, I cannot accept this gift. If you 
 know the donor, yon will return it as gently as you 
 are able." 
 
 " Not keep the rings ! Not wear those diamonds ! " 
 exclaimed Elsie, clasping her hands in her amaze 
 ment. " How can you resist ornamenting your hand 
 like a princess ? " 
 
 " Or like Omanee, Aunt Deborah would say, " re 
 turned Constance, smiling. 
 
 " Are you so much a Puritan ? I did not think 
 it." Then, aside to Mr. Mordaunt, she whispered, 
 " What a pity ! " Constance was quite willing that 
 her rejection of the gift should be put upon this 
 ground. It would prevent surmises about the giver. 
 There was no occasion to answer Elsie, for the Herr 
 had unfastened from the tree and presented to her a 
 bow and quiver filled with silver-tipped arrows, 
 plumed with the feathers of the blue-bird. This gave 
 rise to proposals to practise archery early in the 
 spring, and compete for a prize. Then burgomaster 
 Roosevelt came in, and, after admiring the presents, 
 was persuaded to stay and join in the games that fol 
 lowed. Even dame Zwaller herself, always so staid 
 and anxious, consented to forget her dignity and her
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 87 
 
 cares on this " Happy Evening," and play at blind- 
 man's buff. . The burly Herr had all he could do to 
 keep himself out of the way, and at last was com 
 pelled to sit down and hold up his fat hands as a shield 
 against the rush that sometimes threatened to over 
 turn him. He rolled from one side to the other with 
 laughter at the poor wight who chanced to stumble, 
 and trip the rest in full flight at his heels. 
 
 Constance had escaped till Mr. Mordaunt was 
 blindfolded. Now she tucked her long skirt under 
 her bodice here and there, looped her sleeves, and 
 gathered her hair into hasty braids, like Barbara's. 
 She was captured in the first skirmish, and so skilful 
 ly that Elsie protested Mr. Mordaunt could see, un 
 fairly. Yet he was slow in identifying his prisoner. 
 Holding her, he daintily touched her features and 
 smoothed her silken hair, with so satisfied a smile that 
 Nicholas Stuyvesant was certain he knew whom he 
 held. Constance knew it to be a caress and struggled 
 to get free. 
 
 u Is it Mistress Aylmer ? " he asked, releasing her 
 and raising the blindfolder. 
 
 Just then the tall clock slowly tolled nine strokes. 
 This was the signal to disperse, and as Herr Roose 
 velt was ready to go, Elsie decided to go also. After 
 some chatting about the church going and the din 
 ners of the next day, the guests all departed. Dame 
 Zwaller immediately put out the wax-lights, while the 
 Herr covered the glowing brands in ashes. Barbara 
 and Constance put the silver tea-pot and the most 
 costly of the presents into safe hiding-places till the
 
 88 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 next day, when they were to be locked in the strong 
 chest. After all these things were done, they went 
 to rest, wondering if they should wake in time to hear 
 the Christmas bells, and doubting if Engle and Perle 
 would open their eyes soon enough to sing carols at 
 their mother's door. Constance and Barbara chatted 
 and laughed long over the events of the evening. 
 When at last they fell asleep in each other's arms, it 
 was for both a deep, dreamless slumber. 
 
 Constance found her eyes wide open when the clock 
 chimed one. j3ome other sound than the bell-stroke 
 had awakened her. The room was dark and still. 
 She listened. Nothing broke the silence, and believ 
 ing her own fancies alone had disturbed her, compos 
 ed herself to sleep. Hark ! what was that ? A light 
 stroke upon the floor of the room below. She was 
 not mistaken now. She leaned upon her arm, lis 
 tened, then softly parted the curtains and slipped 
 down from the lofty bed. Wrapping a shawl about 
 her, and thrusting her feet in slippers, she went noise 
 lessly down the stairs. She hesitated as her hand was 
 upon the latch, but the sound of suppressed voices 
 urged her to open the door. She uttered a cry of 
 horror. A tall man wearing a mask stood before the 
 dresser, holding a light above him as if in search of 
 some object. The mask was lifted. The upheld light 
 fell clearly upon the features the strongly marked 
 features of Lord Percy ! But it was as if a gleam of 
 lightning had revealed the face, so quickly was the 
 mask dropped and the light extinguished. 
 
 " Fly, Disco ! " cried he, in a hoarse voice. At the
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 89 
 
 alarm, a person standing without, fled. The other 
 turned to follow, but sprang back toward Constance. 
 She heard the approach as she was retreating. "With 
 a piercing scream, she bounded up the stairway and 
 into Dame Zwaller's chamber, bursting off, at one 
 push, the wooden button that fastened the door. 
 
 " Quick ! Quick ! Herr Zwaller ! Some one is in 
 the house ! " she exclaimed, in a terrified voice. Myn 
 heer was already upon his feet and bundling into his 
 endless suits as fast as he could in the dark. Con 
 stance stood with her back against the door. Poor 
 Barbara was outside, pushing with all her strength. 
 Constance resisted in an agony of fear, till she recog 
 nized the voice of her friend. Then she gave place so 
 suddenly, that both were nearly thrown to the floor. 
 
 " What has happened ? " cried frightened Bar 
 bara. 
 
 " What is it, my children ? " reiterated Dame 
 Zwaller, who stood wrapped in a blanket, shivering 
 with cold and alarm. The clumsy Herr was trying 
 in vain to strike a light with a flint. Tchick ! 
 Tchick ! but no spark appeared. He was too hasty. 
 Great drops stood upon his forehead, and the heart 
 throbs of the rest were almost audible. Tchick ! 
 Tchick ! At last a light. This revealed Engle and 
 Perle clinging to their mother's blanket, and too 
 frightened to utter a word. The whole troop now 
 cautiously set out for the room below the Herr fore 
 most, holding the light above his head. Finding no 
 one there, they all ventured in. The door stood wide 
 open, the snow drifting in from the stoop. The Herr
 
 90 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 closed it, and raked open the ashes for the sake of 
 light and warmth. 
 
 ' ll Oh ! " screamed Dame Z waller, catching sight 
 of the strong-box, wide open. " Our gold is gone ! 
 All gone ! Yes," leaning over it, " every guilder is 
 gone ! My heir-loom, the goblet ; even the gold beads* 
 for Barbara's bridal, which she has so hardly earned ; 
 all are gone ! " 
 
 " The ear-rings too," said Barbara, in tears. 
 Constance looked on confounded. Mynheer was 
 greatly excited. He searched for a weapon of defence, 
 with intention to follow the burglars. 
 
 " You can do nothing alone ; arouse the neigh 
 bors," interposed his better half, frightened lest some 
 greater calamity should befall her. He regarded her 
 caution ; he hurried to the Fort to give the alarm to 
 the sentinels, rapping at his neighbors' doors and 
 shouting as he went along. But, alas ! it took them 
 all so long to awake, so long to get on their five and 
 twenty garments, so long to strike their lights, that 
 the nimble miscreants had ample time to laugh at 
 the pursuit, and betake themselves to a place of 
 safety. 
 
 Two soldiers from the Fort, in passing Carl Van 
 Loot's cabin, heard a lusty cry for help. Rushing 
 in, they found him stretched upon his back, bound 
 hand and foot. 
 
 " What does this mean ? Who did it ? " 
 
 * The number of beads worn by a Dutch bride indicated her in 
 dustry ; each one representing a certain amount of cloth woven, or 
 flax spun.
 
 CONSTANCE AYL3IEK. 91 
 
 " Two fellows in masks. How should I know the 
 villains ? Look there ! " he shouted, mad with rage. 
 His bed lay in a confused heap, and the floor where 
 it had stood was torn up, exposing an empty hole 
 Carl's treasure had disappeared. He was no longer 
 the richest burgher in New Amsterdam. He was too 
 angry to receive sympathy, and indeed little was 
 likely to be offered, since he might as well be poor as 
 rich, for all the use he made of his gold. He joined 
 the party gathered in the street to aid in the pursuit, 
 but one would have thought him an accomplice of 
 the burglars, intent upon betraying the direction of 
 search, so loudly did he boom his rage through his 
 long nose. The stir and confusion awakened the 
 whole city. Some seized their guns, thinking of an 
 Indian attack ; others, not so brave, barricaded their 
 doors and windows, and waited till daylight before 
 venturing out to learn the cause of the tumult.
 
 92 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 IX. 
 
 DAME ZWALLEK stalked about in her blanket, to 
 discover the whole extent of their loss. Constance 
 and Barbara thought of the Christmas gifts, and went 
 to the parlor ; opening a little door above the fire 
 place, the precious tea-pot and the dear love-tokens 
 flashed pleasantly in the light of their tapers, as if to 
 
 say, 
 
 " We are all here ! " 
 
 " Ah ! " said Constance, shivering, " he sought 
 that upon the dresser. I remember how carefully he 
 surveyed it when yon showed it to Baltazzar." 
 
 " What is that you say ? Do you know the rob 
 ber? " said Dame Zwaller, looking at her in wonder. 
 
 " It was Lord Percy ! May God forgive me if I 
 wrongly accuse him, but I saw his face." 
 
 " Constance, how dare you say it ? " sternly re 
 plied Dame Zwaller. " He went to Salem more than 
 a week ago. He could hardly have arrived there, 
 much less return in that time." 
 
 " That is true ; yet I saw Lord Percy last night." 
 
 " I see'd him dis yer night ! " whined a thin, timid 
 voice. Minxey's woolly head appeared in the door 
 way, followed by old Mable, who held up her hands, 
 and repeated over and over, as if she did not know 
 how to express her dismay and sorrow, 
 
 " Oh, missus ! oh, missus ! "
 
 CONSTAXCE AYLMER. 93 
 
 " Did you see him, Minxey ? How ? Tell us/' 
 they all exclaimed. Minxey lapped her hands under 
 her arms, like wings, to keep them warm while she 
 told her story. 
 
 " I thought mornin' was broke sure 'nuf, an' ran 
 out to make a fire. He said, ' Go to bed, you brack 
 squirl ; ' so I ran back, and while I was tellin' mammy, 
 de house was full of screams." 
 
 " Did you seo the man's face, Minxey ? " asked her 
 mistress. 
 
 " I 'specs I see'd his back. He talked English like 
 de great Lor' dat wears laces and colors." 
 
 Dame Zwaller reprimanded her sternly for daring 
 to speak of Lord Percy, and sent her back to bed. 
 "When they were alone again, and sat by the fire, 
 Dame Zwaller said, almost in a whisper, 
 
 " I dare not think Lord Percy is only a robber 
 perhaps the leader of the horde that has so long been 
 the terror of the Long Islanders. How can you be 
 lieve it, Constance ? He is a nobleman, and a gallant 
 gentleman." 
 
 " He acted the gay gallant well," replied Con 
 stance. " But his manner did not always befit a gen 
 tleman, and sometimes frightened me. I feel that 
 he is an impostor, and betrayed his true calling last 
 night." She shuddered as she remembered his woo 
 ing. 
 
 " What will the Lord Director say to that ! " sud 
 denly exclaimed Dame Zwaller. " It might ruin us ; 
 he will never admit that he has been imposed upon, 
 and will punish us for the scandal. No more of this ;
 
 94 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 it will not be safe." Barbara looked sad at this sug 
 gestion. What mischief might it not work for her 
 and Baltazzar ! tears rolled over her cheeks at the 
 thought. Constance looked at her, crouched upon a 
 low stool, close in the chimney-corner, and saw the 
 tears shining like diamonds in the firelight. 
 
 " Ah, dear Barbara, I am sorry I have spoken of 
 it. Let us forget it. No one shall know it, unless 
 such proof comes to light as will convince the Director 
 himself." 
 
 The next morning, Cornelius Dirksen brought an 
 important letter on his return from Breuklyn. Such 
 a missive rarely fell into his hands for transportation, 
 and he examined it with no little curiosity. It was 
 addressed to Constance Aylmer. The immense seal 
 bore the Moody coat of arms. He concluded it to be 
 of importance, for he was bidden by the messenger 
 who delivered it to make his best speed. He accord 
 ingly carried it himself to the door of the Zwaller's. 
 A group of neighbors were there talking over last 
 night's fright and loss, and found a new topic for 
 gossip and wonder in this rare arrival. Constance 
 broke the seal with a trembling hand and read the 
 letter, while the rest waited, full of impatient curiosity. 
 
 "Aunt Deborah is dangerously ill, and wishes me 
 to go to her quickly," said she, much agitated. " I 
 must set out immediately." 
 
 " Ton cannot go to-day," said Barbara. " The 
 ferryman goes but once in a day, and he has already 
 been there." 
 
 "He will be well paid for another trip."
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 95 
 
 " Who is to go with you ? " questioned Dame 
 Zwaller. " I dare not let you go alone." 
 
 " My cousin writes that a servant will be In wait 
 ing with horses at Breuklyn. I do not fear the 
 journey." 
 
 " It will be very late before you reach the Hall," 
 remonstrated her friends. 
 
 " And what can a young thing like her do if Lady 
 Moody should die ! It would be a lonesome happen 
 ing for the dear child," said Mistress Primley, fussing 
 about in great distress. 
 
 " Oh, Mistress Primley ! " exclaimed Constance, 
 her eyes filling with tears, " do not name so great a 
 misfortune. But if Aunt Deborah should be long ill, 
 you will come, will you not ? 
 
 " Most truly I will. I knew this morning I should 
 soon walk upon strange ground, for my foot pricked 
 sorely." And Mistress Primley, full of all manner of 
 forebodings and condolings, followed Constance up 
 stairs and down till she was ready to say her adieus. 
 Barbara said nothing, but did. much. She had gone 
 to the inn for Mr. Mordaunt at the first thought of 
 the journey. He arranged for a trip with the ferry 
 man, and came to the Zwallers' to tell Constance he 
 should be glad to go with her to Gravesend. Her 
 face as well as her lips thanked him for the timely 
 courtesy. Amid the regrets of all she took leave, and 
 was soon gliding away from the landing. 
 
 The shores looked dreary in their winter dress. 
 The whirling arms of the two windmills, and the 
 striking of the bell of St. Nicholas, were all that gave
 
 96 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 life to the receding town. A single sloop lay at 
 anchor in the bay, and a few boats were moored near 
 the shore or lay keels upward on the beach. The 
 Long Island shore rose thickly wooded. A few 
 patches of brown earth could be seen on the low white 
 hills that had been cleared, showing that the sun was 
 not powerless even in these short days. While Con 
 stance was glancing at the long shore line before her, 
 a canoe shot out from a sheltered cove and moved 
 swiftly over the water. 
 
 " It comes like an arrow out of its hiding-place," 
 said she, watching it. 
 
 " The fellow will soon reach the other shore with 
 those strokes," said Mr. Mordaunt. " See ! the boat 
 fairly leaps. Who is it, Dirksen ? " 
 
 "An Indian water-dog," growled the ferryman. 
 Now the rower turned in a smooth curve and was 
 passing across the track of their own boat. 
 
 " That is Hihoudi, the brother of Omanee. You 
 ." Whatever else the ferryman would have said was 
 cut short by something falling at their feet, evidently 
 thrown by the passing Indian, yet so quickly that no 
 one perceived the movement. Mr. Mordaunt picked 
 up a piece of smooth bark having figures rudely stained 
 upon it. Cornelius Dirksen saw it and turned away, 
 muttering, 
 
 " I always heard Injuns were devils. I believe it 
 now. ]$To honest man could have tossed that without 
 my seeing him. It is one of his cursed charms." 
 
 " It has a meaning," remarked Mordaunt. " Indians 
 often carry tidings thus. See him yonder, rowing as
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 97 
 
 swiftly as if his errand were not done ! " Constance 
 looked. He was skimming over the water like a bird. 
 She examined the bark again with interest. 
 
 " That is intended for an uplifted hand. But 
 what is this red figure ? And what does the figure of 
 a canoe mean ? " 
 
 " The hand must mean danger, and the canoe 
 haste," su'ggested Mordaunt. 
 
 " Ah, that is it. It warns me to go quickly to 
 Aunt Deborah. She must be very, very ill," said 
 Constance, vainly longing to transport herself instantly 
 to the bedside of her aunt. Mordaunt sat quietly 
 questioning with himself why Hihoudi had need of 
 stratagem. It was evident that he wished to avoid 
 observation from the shore. But what occasion was 
 there for mystery in the tidings of Lady Moody 's ill 
 ness? The red symbol too, what did it mean? It 
 had an ugly look. Mordaunt expressed nothing how 
 ever of his surmises, and waited patiently till they 
 reached the lauding. 
 
 " That copper-skinned imp did not sink us with 
 his charm. I hope it bodes no ill to your journey," 
 said the ferryman, shaking himself as he leaped out 
 on the shore, and whistling his satisfaction. 
 
 " Shall I leave it in the boat, Dirksen ? " 
 
 " Not there ! " cried he, frowning. " Throw it to 
 the fishes, if it please you, though it may breed a 
 storm," But Mordaunt stowed it in his capacious 
 coat-pocket, greatly to the Dutchman's amazement, 
 and followed Constance up the hill. They found, as 
 had been promised, a servant and two horses waiting.
 
 98 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 " How long have you served at the Hall ? " asked 
 Constance, surprised at seeing a stranger in charge 
 of her favorite Lightfoot. 
 
 " A fortnight yesterday, my lady, since I went to 
 the Hall. Sir Henry bade me fetch you in haste, and 
 Bent your own horse for your riding. It is a high- 
 mettled creature, my lady." 
 
 " How is Lady Moody ? Is she very ill ?" 
 
 " Hose told me she is like to die." Constance was 
 much agitated. 
 
 " Let us make haste. But stop ! we must have an 
 other horse," she said, turning to Mr. Mordaunt, who 
 stood watching the man Rupert. The latter did not 
 seem pleased with the scrutiny, and busied himself in 
 a restless way, adjusting the saddle while answering 
 his questioner. 
 
 " Sir Henry said nothing about any gentleman I 
 was to fetch. I have brought only two horses," said 
 he, doggedly. 
 
 " Go ask Hans Jasmin, in the new house you see. 
 Tell him we desire to go to Lady Moody, and he will 
 not refuse," commanded Constance, impatient to begin 
 the journey. 
 
 "He has no horse tit to ride, I heard him say 
 a while since, he is going to Gravesend to-morrow 
 with his wagon. The gentleman could ride with 
 him." 
 
 " Precisely what you can do yourself," returned 
 Mordaunt, sternly. Rupert stammered angrily, 
 
 " What ! lose my place, Sir ? I must obey orders, 
 Sir. I was bid to come for the lady, Sir, and bring
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 99 
 
 her safe to the door." He spoke in a more respectful 
 tone as he finished, for he was somewhat cowed hy 
 the cool suspicion and threatening looks with which 
 Mordaunt eyed him. Constance interposed a bright 
 tli ought. 
 
 " A pillion ! " she exclaimed, smiling. Fleetfoot 
 is strong, and can bear us both. Go now, Rupert, 
 quickly to the same Hans and ask the favor. Go in 
 stantly ! " she repeated, seeing him reluctant. 
 
 " I dislike him," said she, when he had gone. u I 
 will tell my cousin as much. Why could not Peter 
 or Mingo have served me as well ? They are slow. 
 Doubtless that was the reason." Mordaunt answered 
 nothing. He looked as if about to speak ; but not 
 wishing to alarm her, held his peace. She, with a 
 confiding smile, said frankly, 
 
 "I am glad you are to go with me. I shall feel 
 quite safe." 
 
 " Thank you," he replied, only too happy to pro 
 tect her from all harm. 
 
 The pillion was obtained, and both soon mounted 
 and set out, much to the chagrin of Rupert, who 
 averred that gentlefolks never rode in that plebeian 
 fashion, and followed them in sullen humor. The 
 whole party were silent while they picked their way 
 along the rough and muddy road. They travelled 
 thus for an hour, when the road struck into a forest, 
 which closely bordered the way a long distance. 
 Mordaunt seemed impatient to get through the 
 dreary route, and urged Fleetfoot to a quick pace. 
 Rupert grumbled, and at last spoke aloud.
 
 100 CONSTANCE ATLMEK. 
 
 " Sir Henry will take it amiss that I have ridden 
 the horses fast over these bad roads." 
 
 "I am responsible. Be silent, fellow, and fall 
 back," commanded Mordaunt, harshly. He obeyed, 
 and kept at a respectful distance. A little later, he 
 gave a long, sharp whistle. A similar shrill sound 
 came from the depths of the valley they were just 
 entering. 
 
 " Was that an echo ? " asked Constance, " or a 
 reply to Rupert ? " 
 
 " A reply. There are persons waiting for us in 
 the valley with evil intent. Now sit firmly, and do 
 not be frightened. Hold your arm fast about me, 
 and be prepared for Fleetfoot's spring or sudden 
 curveting when we reach them. Have courage, my 
 precious Constance." Those last words caught her 
 ear even in the terror of the moment. They assured 
 her how devotedly he would protect her in any event. 
 Hitherto not a suspicion had entered her mind as to 
 the nature of the danger for which Mordaunt had 
 been on a keen look-out all along the way. Now she 
 saw two persons emerge from the woods, and walk 
 along the roadside toward them. One was tall, 
 broad-shouldered, powerful. Constance fastened her 
 eyes upon him with a feeling of horror stealing over 
 her. A dreadful thought occurred to her. Threats 
 flashed upon her memory. The two rings hung be 
 fore her eyes. She clung to Mordaunt with both 
 arms. They approached within a few yards of the 
 men. 
 
 " Now, my beloved, courage ! " whispered Mor-
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 101 
 
 daunt; and instantly, with whip and spur and tightly 
 drawn rein, he caused Fleetfoot to leap in the very 
 faces of the armed men, who were crying, 
 
 " Stop ! stop ! " One was thrown to the ground. 
 The other, in whom Mordaunt instantly recognized 
 Lord Percy, reeled, but recovered himself, and, cursing 
 with rage, fired after Fleetfoot, who had dashed past 
 and was speeding away like the wind. 
 
 " Follow them, Rupert ! Fire upon them ! Knock 
 the horse under ! " shouted he in a hoarse voice. He 
 disappeared among the trees, and soon came crushing 
 through the underbrush, mounted on a heavy horse. 
 Rupert was already clattering fast after the fugitives. 
 He fired. A sharp whiz went by them. 
 
 " What was that ? " Constance exclaimed. 
 
 " A bullet. I will return the villain's compli 
 ment." Still urging Fleetfoot forward, he turned and 
 aiming a small pistol, sent a ball through Rupert's hat. 
 It served to check his speed, for he had not counted 
 upon so well-directed a retort. 
 
 " Fire again ! Fire again ! " cried Constance. 
 " Lord Percy is coming ! " 
 
 " I cannot. I have neither ball norpow r der. Fleet- 
 foot must outspeed them." He turned again to see 
 their chances. Neither of the pursuers were fitly 
 mounted. They had not expected the necessity. 
 
 " Their clumsy horses will soon fail. We shall be 
 out of reach of bullets in another minute ; " and re 
 newing the whip and spur, they plunged on till the 
 forest was passed and the road lay between open fields. 
 Mordaunt lessened their speed but slightly, as some
 
 102 CONSTANCE ATLMEK. 
 
 miles yet lay between them and Gravesend. He 
 hoped also to give the alarm before Lord Percy could 
 escape from the neighborhood. Neither he nor Ru 
 pert were now visible. 
 
 " You are exhausted, Constance,''* said Mordaunt. 
 " Let me place you in front of the saddle, and you can 
 lean upon me." 
 
 " Hoj I am strong, very strong." 
 
 " Only because you are intensely excited. It is 
 best for you to change position. " 
 
 " Not yet ! Oh, ride on ! They may pursue us by 
 some cross-path." On they went for one or two miles. 
 Then Mordaunt insisted upon a change. Dismount 
 ing, he moved the saddle and lifted Constance in front, 
 and in a few moments resumed the flight, he clasping 
 one arm about her and causing her to rest her head 
 upon his shoulder. It was a doubly precious weight 
 to him now. It was rest to her, and gave her a pro 
 found sense of safety. Both were silent. It grew 
 dark slowly, and then the stars came out clear and 
 twinkling. By and by objects grew familiar. A 
 small Dutch village came and went ; the bridge that 
 everybody feared would cause a mishap, yet which 
 nobody mended, rattled under the horse's hoofs ; the 
 great white oak spread its arm over them for a mo 
 ment, and then receded like a shadow. A little farther, 
 and the welcome sight of the palisades and thatched 
 roofs of Gravesend, was before them. Constance was 
 grateful that home was BO near, for she felt her 
 strength failing. 
 
 " Be brave a little longer," said Mordaunt tender-
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 103 
 
 ly. And now Fleetfoot bounded to the gateway. Dis 
 mounting, Mordaunt lifted Constance in his arms and 
 carried her to the door. 
 
 " Pray set me down. I am not faint, I am only 
 very tired," she urged. 
 
 " ]STo ; I shall carry you." 
 
 By this time the door was flung wide open, and 
 Sir Henry stood holding a light and peering out at 
 the comers. Lady Moody approached behind him, 
 attracted, as he had been, by the quick clatter of hoofs, 
 the sudden check at the gateway, and the sound of 
 voices. 
 
 " There is Aunt Deborah ! She is not sick ! How 
 glad I am ! " 
 
 " Just as I surmised," added Mordaunt. 
 
 " You, Mordaunt ? And you, Constance ? What 
 has befallen you ? What does this mean ? Is Con 
 stance hurt ? " 
 
 "No, dear friends; only tired, and he is deter 
 mined to carry me." Her voice was hoarse and unnat 
 ural, so that Lady Moody 's anxiety was not appeased 
 by her cheerful reply. Mordaunt placed her gently 
 in an easy-chair in the Library. 
 
 " She has just escaped Lord Percy's clutches," said 
 he. " He and his minions waylaid us on the road 
 through the woods. Thanks to Fleetfoot, she is safe." 
 
 " Do you say Lord Percy attacked you ? Are you 
 in your senses ? Where did you get Fleetfoot ? " ques 
 tioned Sir Henry, profoundly surprised at the whole 
 affair. 
 
 " Your new servant waited with him at the ferry.
 
 104 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 Did you not send him ? Did you not write me that 
 Aunt Deborah was very ill, and bid me haste ? " asked 
 Constance. 
 
 " Zounds ! I know nothing about it. You speak 
 riddles." 
 
 " Come, friend, we will explain afterward. First 
 let Fleetfoot be cared for. I have pressed him hard, 
 and lie carried us both nobly. Let us rouse the villagers, 
 and hunt these outlaws." The two went out together 
 to get fresh horses for the pursuit, and messengers 
 were sent to form a party to accompany them at the 
 earliest possible moment. 
 
 Lady Moody had given Constance restoratives, and 
 ordered tea to be served immediately in the Library. 
 She urged her to rest quietly till tea was brought 
 in. 
 
 " I cannot rest, dear aunt. It was such a cruel 
 ruse to tell me you were dying. I should have come 
 alone, and have fallen into the hands of that despe 
 rate man, but for Mr. Mordaunt." 
 
 " Thank God, my daughter, for sending him to 
 thee ! But I doubt if thou art in thy right senses to 
 speak thus of Lord Percy." 
 
 " He robbed Herr Zwaller of all his gold last night. 
 Even poor Barbara's beads are gone." 
 
 " Constance !" exclaimed Lady Moody. " How 
 can this be true ? " 
 
 " I saw his face unmasked. For Dame Zwaller's 
 sake, I should not have told even you, but to-day's 
 crime will convince the Director." 
 
 Sir Henry and Mr. Mordaunt came in to partake
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 105 
 
 s 
 
 hastily of some refreshments, while waiting for the 
 villagers. 
 
 "Mingo tells me," said the former to his mother, 
 " that some one came for Fleetfoot yesterday." 
 
 " Margaret Haller sent for him to visit a friend. 
 I knew he would bear her gently, and the ride would 
 be a wholesome medicine for her," explained Lady 
 Moody. 
 
 " A clever knave manufactured that message. It 
 must have been Rupert himself," said Mordaunt. 
 " ISTow I bethink myself, here is a message that an 
 Indian tossed into the ferry-boat. Can you read 
 hieroglyphics ? " He drew forth the piece of bark, 
 and gave it to Sir Henry. 
 
 " Pity you should walk into the lion's month with 
 this warning in your hand ! " said he, drily. " The 
 red figure means a lover, the uplifted hand, intended 
 harm. The white spot represents one day, or this day. 
 The other symbol represents a boat ; meaning possibly, 
 that the lover was to bear Constance away in a boat." 
 
 " Henry, does thee remember hearing yesterday 
 of a sloop near Coney Island ? May not that be the 
 retreat of these men ? " Mordaunt and Sir Henry 
 looked meaningly at each other. Their thought was 
 simultaneous to direct the pursuit thither. 
 
 " We have no time to lose. Let us be off," said 
 Sir Henry, drawing on a fustian doublet. " Our 
 townsmen will be forthcoming while we mount." 
 
 " Tell me first, my cousin, how your seal could 
 have been thus imitated," urged Constance, giving 
 him the letter of yesterday. 
 5*
 
 106 CONSTANCE A.YLMEB. 
 
 "The seal itself stamped that!" he exclaimed. 
 " I have searched in vain for it. Have we a dishonest 
 servant ? " His face flushed, as he looked inquiringly 
 at his mother. 
 
 "There is not one that I should permit thee to 
 charge with theft," remonstrated Lady Moody, firmly. 
 
 " Aunt Deborah, nothing is beneath Lord Percy's 
 stooping. Remember my alarm when he was here 
 with the Director. "Was it not he who walked with 
 stealthy steps through the halls at midnight ? Did he 
 not come hither and relight the fire ? " 
 
 "It is true, my daughter. It was no fancy of 
 thine." 
 
 " "What a scoundrel ! To insult thus our hospi 
 tality ! A viper ! " cried Sir Henry, stamping with 
 rage. He turned upon his heel, went out, and flung 
 himself upon a horse, not waiting for Mordaunt to 
 overtake him, that he might hasten the slow-coming 
 villagers. At last they all set out together towards 
 Coney Island.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 10Y 
 
 X. 
 
 THE party returned the next morning, unsuccess 
 ful. They had learned however, from a fisherman, 
 that about midnight two boats had put off for the 
 sloop, with five men and an Indian girl. They had 
 forced him to carry a light to the shore and aid them 
 in loading one of the boats with boxes, which weighed 
 amazingly heavy for their small size. His description 
 of the men left no doubt that Lord Percy was of the 
 number, and the mantle worn by the girl could have 
 belonged to no other than Omanee. Sir Henry could 
 not contain his rage at having so narrowly missed 
 them. 
 
 " There is no end to that pirate's deviltry ! " he 
 cried. "But the bold fellow shall be caught yet. 
 Let us go to New Amsterdam, charter whatever craft 
 we can find, and hunt out the dogs. They will take 
 shelter in some cove, haply. "We can find cavaliers 
 enough for the adventure. "What say you, Mordaunt ? " 
 
 "I am at your service," was the reply. "But 
 hold, I have been in the saddle many hours, besides 
 patrolling the streets of ISTew Amsterdam a good 
 portion of last night. I will back to the Hall for rest, 
 and join you by night at Metje "Wessell's inn. You 
 will not be in readiness for sailing till to-morrow." 
 
 This being agreed upon, Mordaunt returned to the 
 Hall. The news he brought pained Lady Moody even
 
 108 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 more than all that had already occurred.. She knew 
 that lyano had negotiated for Omanee to grace his 
 own lodge, and she felt an affection for the artless and 
 half-tamed girl. 
 
 " Oh, missus," exclaimed Mingo, overhearing the 
 facts as he stood warming himself before the broad 
 blaze on the kitchen hearth, " oh, missus, I snuffed 
 dat ar. Dat gemman in de fine close a prowlin' in 
 de 'woods like a roarin' lion 'twan't for no good. 
 I'se sure she'd run away wid dat ar." 
 
 " "Why did thee not tell me, Mingo ? " asked Lady 
 Moody, reproachfully. 
 
 "You see, missus, I make it de great principle 
 neber to meddle in de course ob true love." 
 
 " Thee should have told me," she repeated, 
 sadly. 
 
 " Next time I will, sure, missus," said he, ready 
 to tear the wool from his head for his woful mistake. 
 He was glad to do his part toward repairing the 
 mischief, by preparing the horses for Mr. Mordaunt's 
 journey to Breuklyn after dinner, whither he was to 
 accompany him. 
 
 Constance arose very late, and spent the little that 
 remained of the morning in busy idleness. She was 
 winding gay-colored silk from a small wheel, when 
 Mr. Mordaunt came in with a pleasant good-morning, 
 and many inquiries for her health, after the fatigue 
 and fear of yesterday. He told her of his adventures 
 last night, of the renewed pursuit proposed by Sir 
 Henry, and his intention to join in it. 
 
 " But I cannot go," said he, " till you forgive my
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 109 
 
 foolish misunderstandings, and the unkind resent 
 ments that have been so ungallantly manifest." 
 
 " You recall what I should have forgotten," re 
 turned Constance, bending over her work. 
 
 " Then I caused you no pain," said he, coldly, at 
 the same time closely watching her face. He saw 
 the rose-color deepen in her cheeks, and her fingers 
 tangling the silken thread into hopeless knots. 
 
 " Is it not painful to be always misunderstood ? " 
 she asked, timidly lifting her eyes. 
 
 " Tes, if by one you love," he replied, with a look 
 full of tender inquiry. She bent her head quickly 
 over the tangled knot. Mordaunt came near and 
 took the thread from her fingers. 
 
 " Leave it," said he. " Listen to me now. Till 
 within a few days, I thought you were to become the 
 wife of Lord Percy. 1 believed his title attracted 
 you. Can you forgive me that I could impute to you 
 so base a motive ? Believe me, jealousy alone dis 
 torted all your conduct. And where jealousy is, love 
 is. My great love for you is my only apology. Are 
 you indifferent to this ? " He stood there intensely 
 agitated, waiting her answer. She had no voice to 
 speak. Her heart beat violently. She could not 
 make her lips say what her thoughts were asserting. 
 
 " You are offended," said Mr. Mordaunt. " I have 
 presumed too much." 
 
 " Oh, no ! " said Constance, extending her hand and 
 venturing one look, so glowing, yet so timid that 
 Mord aunt's heart bounded within him at the possible 
 realization of his hopes. He sat down beside her,
 
 110 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 and drew her toward him. She hid her face upon his 
 breast. 
 
 " Not a word for me yet, to complete my happi 
 ness ? " said he. She attempted to speak, and burst 
 into tears. Mordatmt could not understand this. 
 He smoothed her hair with gentle strokes the silken 
 hair he had so longed to touch ; he tenderly kissed 
 the forehead he had often looked upon as so fair and 
 sacred. It soothed her. Composing herself, she 
 looked up at last with a smile full of contentment, and 
 said softly, 
 
 " I am too happy. That is all." 
 
 Mordaunt thought her never so bewitchingly lovely 
 as at this moment. Her eyelashes, still glistening 
 with tears, modestly shadowed her cheek, and dimples 
 chased about her sweet mouth with the agitation of 
 her new happiness. 
 
 " I am not worthy of you, Constance," said he 
 sadly, with a sudden sense of the sacred trust that he 
 had called forth the soul-absorbing first love of a 
 pure, high-minded girl. He spoke truly. He was 
 not worthy. Selfish, exacting, jealous, he should 
 never have found a place in her heart. But the veil 
 of love was thrown over it all, and transformed him 
 in her eyes. Through it she worshipped an ideal, and 
 dreamed her ideal was Mordaunt. 
 
 An hour passed sweetly. Few such hours come in 
 a lifetime. Many, many days were to pass before 
 they would come again to Constance. Mordaunt 
 made his final preparations to go in a dreamy kind 
 of confusion; he dined hastily, not knowing if he
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. Ill 
 
 ate mortal bread or not, and went away with a fare 
 well kiss to Constance, saying with supreme happi 
 ness to Lady Moody, 
 
 " She has given me the right ! " Aunt Deborah 
 was not ignorant. She had graciously consented to 
 his seeking that right, four days ago. 
 
 In the evening of the day of his departure, Lady 
 Moody and Constance sat talking by the fireside 
 Constance upon a footstool at the feet of her aunt. 
 As her eyes followed the lines of her revered face, 
 she thought how fresh, smooth, and fair it was. There 
 were sunny wrinkles like rays diverging from the 
 corners of her eyes, and furrows in her cheeks where 
 smiles loved to run to and fro. Her hair was per 
 fectly parted, and smoothed back in plain bands under 
 a close-fitting lace cap. Its filmy border lent delicacy 
 to her still fine complexion. Altogether there was 
 an exalted, refined, pure look, wholly different from 
 the melancholy resignation of Dame Roosevelt's pale 
 face, or the placid good-nature of Mistress Primley's 
 round visage. But to-night the shadow of a subdued 
 trouble was upon her countenance. She was deeply 
 anxious for Omanee. 
 
 " I have not instructed her as I ought. I have no 
 excuse," said she, sadly. 
 
 Constance looked up, wondering how she could 
 find reason for self-reproach she who was so patient, 
 so tenderly thoughtful of others who lived not for 
 herself. It was upon her lips to say this to her aunt, 
 when a low exclamation behind them caused both to 
 start with alarm.
 
 112 CONSTANCE ATLMEE. 
 
 "Ah! lyano," said Lady Moody, as she turned 
 and arose, " thee is so still of foot, I did not hear 
 thee enter. Does thee bring better news of Omanee ? " 
 His lip and nostril curled with scorn and pride. 
 
 " lyano knows nothing. Sunny-eye chose the 
 pale-face. She may go." 
 
 As Constance glanced at the piercing eye, the 
 fine face, and athletic figure of the Indian, she be 
 lieved it impossible that Omanee could have preferred 
 Lord Percy. 
 
 " It could not have been her choice to go," she 
 said, shaking her head slowly, while her eyes were 
 fixed sorrowfully on lyano. " Can you not go in the 
 ship, and save her ? bring her back ? " 
 
 " The brave will not have the bird if he must clip 
 the wings," he replied, sadly. 
 
 " Thee must think kindly of her, friend, till thee 
 knows her story." 
 
 " The serpent will hold the bird," was the fierce 
 reply. " lyano will not seek it. The good mother 
 no seek it." He stood silent a moment, then, with 
 hatred firing his eyes, he continued, 
 
 "The mother of the Inglis has power over her 
 people. She talks to the Great Spirit, and He hears. 
 He will destroy them, if she says it. The mother can 
 tell her Manitou to kill the serpent that has stung 
 lyano." 
 
 He gazed at Lady Moody so fiercely, that for a 
 moment she was at a loss. She pressed her hand 
 over her eyes, then motioning lyano to sit down, she 
 took from a table a large copy of the Scriptures, bound
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 113 
 
 in thick vellum, and fastened with an iron clasp, 
 lyano looked at it with superstitious awe ; he be 
 lieved she was about to exercise some wonderful 
 power by means of it. The fire of gratified vengeance 
 lighted his face. 
 
 " Friend," said Lady Moody, " I am not a proph 
 etess, as thee seems to think ; neither can I entreat 
 the death of him who has injured thee. Thee must 
 wait God's time. Here is his message listen, lyano: 
 'Yengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord. 
 Therefore, if thine enemy hunger, feed him ; if he 
 thirst, give him drink ; for in so doing, thou shalt 
 heap coals of fire on his head.' ' 
 
 This was read slowly and distinctly. lyano did 
 not fail to catch the meaning ; he looked disappoint 
 ed. 
 
 " lyano does not hear ! " was his laconic an 
 swer. 
 
 " Friend, thee can hear better when thee is not 
 angry. Thee desired me to ask the Lord concerning 
 thine enemy, and I have read what he says. Ed- 
 gardo Percy cannot go unpunished ; God will snare 
 him in his own net." 
 
 lyano's face was less sullen. With another fierce 
 glance, he asked, 
 
 " Did the Great Spirit speak again to the mother? 
 Will He slay the Inglis?" 
 
 Lady Moody arose and placed the open volume on 
 his knee. 
 
 " Read it for thyself, friend." 
 
 He glanced full of awe down the sacred page,
 
 114 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 much puzzled at the mysterious characters inscribed 
 upon it. 
 
 " It does not speak to lyano," said he. 
 
 "Neither does it speak to my ears," returned 
 Lady Moody. " It talks to my eyes. Now, if thee 
 will have it talk to thine eyes, thee can come 
 every day, and I will teach thee. It will tell thee 
 what to do when thee has sorrow. It will tell thee 
 what manner of man thou art, and how to live for 
 ever." 
 
 lyano had learned to place implicit trust in all 
 that Lady Moody said, and now the suggestion that 
 this book would always tell him what to do, and tell 
 him how to escape death, as he understood it, awa 
 kened strange hopes of attaining even more than a 
 conjuror's power. He sat pondering a few moments, 
 and then, as if it was too much for his credulity, 
 pushed the book from him, rose suddenly, drew his 
 wolf-skin about him, and stalked out of the room, 
 much as a white man, indignant at an insult, might 
 have done. 
 
 " Is he angry ? " questioned Constance, who had 
 watched him with the anxious fear that he might 
 tomahawk either, or both, for vengeance. 
 
 " Nay ; thee will get used to his rude ways. He 
 will come back another time. If I am away, thee 
 must not fail to tell him more of the Sacred Word ; 
 his interest is awakened." 
 
 " I am afraid of him," said Constance. " Perhaps 
 Omanee was afraid, but she might well have feared 
 Lord Percy far more."
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 115 
 
 " His gay ribbons pleased her. He was gallantly 
 dressed, as tliee knows, and the wits of the poor In 
 dian girl were no harder to turn than many a civilized 
 damsel who should be wiser."
 
 116 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 XI. 
 
 WHEN Mr. Mordaimt reached New Amsterdam, 
 he found it alive with excitement and preparation for 
 the expedition. The large schooner, " White Duck," 
 was being made ready to sail the next day, and 
 although it was not a strong craft, Sir Henry hoped 
 that somehow the spirit of the adventurers would 
 make up all that was lacking in it. At all events, he 
 was strong-headed, and determined to go even against 
 wind and tide. Burgomaster Zwaller and Herr 
 Roosevelt were enlisted, and four soldiers from the. 
 Fort, a schepen, and a few other citizens were to make 
 up the party. Carl Yan Loot refused to go ; he was 
 willing enough that others should regain his lost 
 fortune, if they could, but he had not courage to risk 
 either the dangers of the coast, or an encounter with 
 the pirate ship. Nicholas Stuyyesant held back, 
 strangely enough ; he was pale and silent since the 
 first news of the robbery, so that there was not a little 
 raillery at his expense. He promised that either he 
 or Baltazzar should go in the schooner, and went out 
 in the afternoon to the bowery, to consult with his 
 brother. Baltazzar was struck with his haggard 
 looks. 
 
 "What is in the wind now, Nicholas? " said he, 
 leaving his work, and entering the farm-house with 
 him. They sat down in a retired office, rough with
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEB. 117 
 
 rubbish, and disorderly with papers and account- 
 books. Nicholas closed the door. 
 
 " The townsfolk are manning a schooner to pursue 
 Lord Percy. He has been traced to Coney Island. 
 I cannot go. You must go in my stead, Baltazzar." 
 
 " Nick, you are not a coward, but there is some 
 thing in this affair that gives you the look of a pol 
 troon. Now out with it; you know you can trust 
 me." 
 
 "Well, Bal, that man and I have been close com 
 panions since he came. We have been friends. I 
 can't hunt him down now like a wild beast." Nich 
 olas sat uneasily, and trembled. His brother eyed 
 him anxiously, and after a little silence, he said, in a 
 tone of doubt, 
 
 " That is not all, Nick." 
 
 Nicholas remained silent, his eyes cast down, and 
 his face irresolute. At last he gave way. 
 
 " You are right ; I have not told you the worst," 
 said he, with impetuous feeling ; " it is through me 
 you have all been robbed. I have betrayed my friends 
 into his hands ; but, God knows, I did it ignorantly. 
 I have been nattered, fooled, cajoled, intoxicated. I 
 have been the tool of Lord Percy. All the money I 
 borrowed of you is in his hands ; I have gambled it 
 away. It was only by the merest chance that he did 
 not obtain the city treasure, and even rob my father. 
 It is I who told him every thing; he would know, like 
 
 v O 
 
 a prating fool. Bah ! I trusted him like a woman. 
 I am deceived, betrayed, and thrown to the devil ! " 
 " Why then are you not ready to throw yourself
 
 118 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 into battle with the villain ? " cried Baltazzar, wiping 
 the perspiration from his brow. 
 
 " No, the remembrance of my folly sickens me. I 
 am too filled with shame. I wish to hide myself, lest 
 I betray to others what I have told you. I would fly 
 to Holland, if I could." 
 
 " Pity you cannot ! You might find something 
 there better than mischief for your idle hands to do," 
 said Baltazzar, with bitterness. He was wearied with 
 helping the wayward youth out of the miseries that 
 continually befell him, and of shielding him from the 
 anger of his father. " You have involved me more 
 seriously than ever," he continued. "I told you I 
 should require the money loaned you, in three months, 
 for the payment of stock already shipped from Hol 
 land. Herr Zwaller's loss will interfere too with my 
 marriage, for his dame is too proud to give Barbara 
 away without a handsome dowry. You have abused 
 a too indulgent brother." 
 
 Nicholas sat like a statue. He knew all that Bal 
 tazzar said was true. Could he count upon his good 
 ness any longer ? He wanted one more sacrifice from 
 him. He wished him to leave Barbara, and risk this 
 venturesome expedition in the old schooner, and 
 encounter the fugitive desperadoes, all for the sake of 
 shielding him. Still he sat silent, and crushed by his 
 brother's rebuke. Baltazzar saw it, pitied him, and 
 yearned to draw him from the cloud that rested upon 
 him. They talked long and sorrowfully of all the 
 evil influences that had surrounded him the past few 
 months.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 119 
 
 " Perhaps this scrape may bring you to your 
 senses," said Baltazzar, when they had recalled every 
 thing. " It may make a man of yon, Nick. Yes, I 
 will go in your place, and you can stay here and man 
 age the bowery till I return. When I come back, I 
 will talk over that windmill business with the Gov 
 ernor, and see if you cannot run it. Better do that 
 than dress like a thieving courtier, and go to cock 
 fights and races!" Baltazzar started to his feet. 
 " When does the schooner sail ? " said he. 
 
 " To-morrow morning." 
 
 " No time to lose, then." 
 
 "Bal," cried Nicholas, rising quickly and placing 
 his hands on his brother's shoulders, " count me no 
 longer a scapegrace and spendthrift. I cannot make 
 Herr Zwaller's losses good, but I will return your loan 
 if I have to work like a dog. I pledge my honor." 
 
 " Well, well, never mind the money, so only you 
 turn yourself into a solid man," said Baltazzar, turn 
 ing away to hide the moisture in his eyes. They went 
 out together to make arrangements for his absence, 
 and soon afterward Baltazzar was on his way to the 
 town. 
 
 Early the next morning, the schooner sailed away 
 amidst the hearty cheers of the lookers-on along the 
 shore, if the tender-hearted women be excepted. They 
 waved gay colored handkerchiefs one moment, and the 
 next, had them buried close under their hoods to hide 
 their tears, for they knew very well, notwithstanding 
 the brave cheers, that the husbands and brothers might 
 never return. Mistress Primley strove to console
 
 120 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 Barbara, by telling her she was just as sorry as if her 
 own lover was going away, never to come back. Dame 
 Zwaller was silent, and climbed up the snowy road 
 back to the house, when they had gone. She worked 
 all that day and the next, and the next, with greater 
 energy than ever, and kept up such a din with scour 
 ing, sweeping, and spinning, that she nor anybody 
 else could get time to talk of the absent ones. Lisbet 
 came in with her wheel to chat. She sat all by her 
 self for some time, and then went in search of the 
 dame, whom she found in the loft stuffing a feather 
 bed. Minxey, who had turned somersaults behind her 
 mistress' back, stood in the midst, the white down 
 waving tremulously on her woolly head, and stiffer 
 feathers standing upright upon it. She showed a fair 
 row of teeth when Lisbet opened the door and shut 
 it quickly again, exclaiming as loudly as Dame Zwal 
 ler, at the intrusion. Lisbet retreated, picked the 
 downy bunches from her hair and eyelashes, took up 
 her wheel, and tripped away down to Dame Roose 
 velt's. 
 
 When Elsie spied her coming along the road, she 
 left her household occupations for her mother to finish, 
 as usual, and hastened to welcome Lisbet. She threw 
 open the door, and, with many mock courtesies, pro 
 tested her delight at seeing her " dear budget of 
 news." When the little tumult was over, and both 
 were fairly seated at their spinning, Elsie looked up 
 with a roguish twinkle and asked, 
 
 " Why not begin ? " 
 
 " Begin what ? " innocently asked Lisbet.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 121 
 
 " The news, of course. You are longing to tell me, 
 and I am like the -weather-vane on Hansen's gable 
 yonder, wriggling every way to catch a steady breeze 
 of gossip. So begin." Lisbet colored slightly, and 
 looked oifended. 
 
 " I do not gossip ; I came to listen to you. Though 
 you may be ever so ill-natured, you raise one's spirits. 
 I stopped at Mistress Primley's, but she was nodding 
 over an old tabby cat purring in her lap. Then I 
 went to Dame Zwailer's, but, dear me ! she was floun 
 dering among feathers ; and Barbara and old Mabel 
 made such a thumping, weaving counterpanes, when 
 every body knows they" already have more than 
 enough, that I could no better hear my own footsteps 
 than if I had been a ghost." 
 
 " Is not Barbara trying to earn a new set of beads ? 
 Ah me ! If I do not get married till I can count my 
 beads, I must stay always Elsie Roosevelt. When is 
 Barbara to be wedded ? " 
 
 "Who knows, now that the treasure is gone? 
 Dame Zwaller is too proud to give her away without 
 her weight in gold. Mistress Aylmer's wedding will 
 come first." 
 
 " How do yon kno.w ? " 
 
 "Mistress Primley says she is betrothed to* the 
 English cavalier who was here Christmas eve," quietly 
 answered Lisbet, closely eyeing Elsie's face. 
 
 " I do not believe it ! " exclaimed Elsie, with 
 
 warmth. " It is not two weeks since you declared 
 
 her the expected bride of Lord Percy. I wonder if 
 
 she is to have Nicholas too ? " She jerked the wheel 
 
 6
 
 122 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 as she spoke, and her thread snapped. She attempted 
 to join it. 
 
 " Fie ! " she exclaimed, angrily, " I never can spin 
 smoothly. There ! " and she caught up the rolls of 
 flax, and sent them flying overhead and across the 
 room. Leaving them where they alighted, she seated 
 herself upon the floor before the fire and sat looking 
 into it, while Lisbet laughed and continued her gos 
 sip. They wondered together where the schooner 
 might be, and what success the gallant adventurers 
 had met. Dame Roosevelt came in with the long 
 blue stockings she was always knitting, patiently 
 gathered up the scattered flax, and added her sur 
 mises to the rest. Lisbet staid till after tea. When 
 ready to go, she noticed how suddenly the wind had 
 risen. Hurrying on her mufflers, and catching up 
 her wheel, she hastened away, calling back from the 
 door, 
 
 " How cold it is ! How the wind blows ! " and 
 sped home, half carried by the force of the gale. 
 
 The wind moaned and wailed all that night, 
 shaking doors and windows as if with a strong hand ; 
 whirling into the wide chimneys, or whistling lament 
 able cries around the steep gables. Sleet \yas driven 
 in long ghostly columns up the streets, coating the 
 roofs and steps with ice, and sheathing the trees in 
 glassy armor that rattled dolefully in the wind. 
 People stayed by their own hearths the next day, and 
 gathered close around the fire to escape the chilling 
 currents of air pouring through every crevice. The 
 gloomy day was more dismal yet, for the sad fore-
 
 CONSTANCE ATLMER. 123 
 
 bodings of the fate of the absent friends. Nothing 
 else was talked of. 
 
 The Gravesend people shared in the anxiety. 
 Lady Moody alone seemed cheerful and hopeful. 
 
 " They have gone upon an errand of justice and 
 mercy, and I believe the Lord will return them 
 safely," said she. 
 
 "Every one frets but you, Aunt Deborah. My 
 heart sinks with fear; for does not God sometimes 
 permit misfortune to fall even upon those who are 
 doing good ? " 
 
 " In any event, the will of God is supremely the 
 best," was the reply. " Thee will never find a kinder, 
 wiser, or stronger arm to rely upon than that of the 
 Almighty. Leave thy friends in his care, and thee 
 will roll off that load that weighs upon thy heart." 
 
 " I try, but the fear remains." 
 
 " Because thee does not truly believe. My pre 
 cious child, when thee has given thyself and all thou 
 hast to the Lord Jesus, thee will understand me. 
 Now, thine own poor human strength is thy support. 
 It will fail thee in time of need. Remember what I 
 say." 
 
 Fear was lessened, and hope began to rise in the 
 hearts of all when the next morning opened clear and 
 mild. It was impossible to resist the cheery influence 
 of the sun, yet the day seemed long to those who 
 looked yearningly out upon the bay to descry the 
 sails that nowhere appeared. Constance thought 
 every passing horseman a messenger, and every foot 
 fall the coming of tidings ; and at last, wearied with
 
 124 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 the springing heart-beats and the sinking back into 
 disappointment, applied herself industriously to work 
 away the dragging hours. Toward evening a mes 
 senger came, but not such as she looked for. It was 
 lyano, who came in unannounced, while she and her 
 aunt were busily but silently at work. 
 
 " Does thee bring tidings of the ' White Duck ' ? " 
 asked Lady Moody, quickly. 
 
 "lyano knows nothing. The Great Spirit sent 
 Omanee to her people." 
 
 " Has she come? " cried Constance. Lady Moody, 
 pushing back her chair, said, 
 
 " Tell us. How was she returned to thee ? " 
 
 " The winds and the waters fought the ship, and 
 beat and tore it. lyano saw it fly to the rocks, and 
 he was glad. He watched while the day slept, and 
 listened to the talk of the waves. They said, ' Omanee 
 is coming.' When the day awoke, they said, ' We 
 give her to lyano.' " 
 
 He was silent and downcast. Constance had lis 
 tened with breathless anxiety, hoping one moment, 
 fearing the next. When lie paused, she gazed at him, 
 waiting for him to speak again ; then advancing timid 
 ly, laid her hand upon his arm and almost whispered, 
 
 " Is Omanee dead ? " 
 
 " Omanee sleeps with her people. Enough." There 
 was no sign of grief in his face, except that it lacked 
 the fire and energy she had noted before, and there 
 was a nerveless lassitude in his figure that told of suf 
 fering. Constance saw it. She burst into tears. Lady 
 Moody sighed deeply, and said.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 125 
 
 " God knows best, friend. It may bring a pre 
 cious blessing to tliee." 
 
 lyano drew something from his wampum belt. 
 
 " The white man's gift cannot go' with Omanee," 
 said he, scornfully. It swung upon his finger, and then 
 he flung it upon the table. It was a necklace of gold 
 beads. 
 
 " Barbara's beads ! " cried Constance. " How 
 happy she will be ! But poor Omanee ! were these 
 upon her neck ? " lyano assented, and turned to go. 
 Lady Moody detained him. 
 
 " I have somewhat to tell thee. Will thee listen ? " 
 He folded his arms in respectful silence, while she 
 told him of the eternity to which Omanee had gone, 
 and of the Saviour. She read from the Scriptures, and 
 explained simply the passages she wished most to im 
 press on his mind. She promised to tell him more, as 
 often as he would come. He deigned no reply ; and 
 went away with an indifference that would have dis 
 couraged any but his patient friend.
 
 126 CONSTANCE AYLMKK. 
 
 XII. 
 
 " DAME ZWALLEK. liave you heard the news ? " cried 
 little Lisbet, rushing into the kitchen without cere 
 mony. Dame Zwaller rested the churn-dasher a mo 
 ment, hut, upon second thought, did not believe Lis- 
 bet's stories, and splashed it quickly again into the 
 thick, yellow cream. 
 
 " The ship is coining," rattled on the gossiper, " and 
 they must have Lord Percy in irons, and all the treas 
 ure safe. Run, Barbara, for your hood, and we will go 
 with all the town to the landing." The busy dame did 
 not believe the story, and it was only by dint of pulling 
 her by the gown, that Lisbet urged her to the gate, 
 where she could see with her own eyes the unusual 
 stir down the street by the water-gate. Then Lisbet 
 and Barbara hurried away, and the housewife return 
 ed to her churning. 
 
 " The ship will sail none the faster if I stand 
 watching it, and the butter will spoil if I leave it," 
 said she, plying the dasher with energy. In due time 
 she ladled up great golden lumps, drained and patted 
 them into a solid roll, and then sent Minxey for her 
 quilted cap and cloak. A little later, she was on her 
 way to join her neighbors at the landing. There 
 was the ship, just arrived ; ragged, battered, disman 
 tled. The crew had given no answering cheers to the 
 lusty welcome from the shore, but, as they landed, hag-
 
 COXSTANCK AYLAIER. 127 
 
 gard and worn, thanked God they were safe at home 
 once more. No prisoners. No gold. Both were 
 beyond reach now. The pirates were doubtless in a 
 stronger prison than Holland could have given them, 
 for the same storm from which this lorn crew had es 
 caped, cast the sloop upon the rocks. The returned 
 found loving greetings. Even Barbara forgot that she 
 stood on the landing when she saw Baltazzar, held 
 out her arms to welcome him, and returned his joyous 
 kiss. 
 
 " Give thanks, my heart, that you see me alive 
 and whole. Mordaunt has not fared so well. His leg 
 is broken. I go to fetch a litter for him." 
 
 Lisbet stood by and heard this. Away she ran 
 to Elsie Roosevelt. 
 
 " Elsie ! " cried she, panting, " that handsome Eng 
 lishman has broken his leg quite off, and will have to 
 hobble like the Director the rest of his days. What a 
 pity such a fine gentleman should be spoiled ! How 
 pale you look ! What is the matter, Elsie ? " 
 
 " Nothing ; I'm not pale," was the sharp reply, 
 and she reddened with anger at the ken glance that 
 had read her through and through. Happily her 
 father espied her at the moment. Without waiting 
 to allow a daughterly welcome, he shouted, 
 
 " Run, Elsie, and make a room ready for Mr. Mor 
 daunt. Be quick, now ! " 
 
 Elsie obeyed this command with novel readiness. 
 She frightened her mother with the sudden order, 
 and went to work so vigorously herself that the good 
 mother paused in her hasty plans to wonder. The
 
 128 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 parlor was opened, a bed was put up in the roomiest 
 corner ; a generous fire displaced the holly branches on 
 the hearth ; an ample square chair, stuffed to portli 
 ness, stood near the bed. These arrangements were 
 scarcely finished when Mr. Mordaunt was brought in. 
 Elsie was shocked at his altered countenance. Its 
 pallor suggested death, and she went away and wept. 
 
 "There, Mordaunt, you could not be in better 
 hands, save in my blessed mother's," said Sir Henry 
 Moody, when his friend was safely deposited in the 
 pleasant quarters. " Dame Roosevelt is a famous 
 nurse. Keep quiet, and your bones will mend with 
 good speed. I'll warrant the setting." This service 
 he had performed himself, at the time of the accident ; 
 and now, with the surgeon's authority, he cleared the 
 room of all lookers-on, and left him to Dame Roose 
 velt's care, promising to return for messages before 
 leaving for Gravesend. 
 
 The people at the landing went to their homes, or 
 to Metje Wessell's inn, to talk over the expedition. 
 The Zwallers had hardly reached their homestead, 
 when a messenger arrived from Gravesend with a 
 package for the good dame. She opened the carefully 
 sealed wrapper, then a box, and lo ! within lay coiled 
 the lost gold beads. 
 
 " Oh ! " shouted every voice, one after another, 
 " Barbara's beads ! Barbara's beads have come back 
 again ! " 
 
 The mother held them up tremblingly before the 
 Herr, too overjoyed to utter a word, while he stared 
 as if he could not believe his senses. Then he threw
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 129 
 
 back his head and laughed till his face grew as red 
 as the tassel on Engle's cap. 
 
 " Think of their getting home before us, after all. 
 I believe nobody but a witch on a broomstick carried 
 them off. Eh ! " said he, turning to Barbara, who 
 stood with her hands clasped tightly, and her face 
 shining with joy, " eh, Barbara, we'll have the wed 
 ding." 
 
 "]N\D wedding without a dowry," interrupted 
 Dame Zwaller, dropping the beads into the palm of 
 her hand. " It will be many a year before so much 
 gold is locked in the strong box again. My looms 
 and wheels will be worn out before the good day 
 comes when we are rich again." 
 
 " Bless me ! " cried the Herr, " haven't we a fine 
 house and plenty to eat and drink, miles of wood to 
 keep us warm, and counterpanes and feather-beds 
 and bodices and petticoats, and linsey-woolsey enough 
 to cover a whole troop of grandchildren ! And here 
 am I, home again, alive and whole, and here is brave 
 young Engle and my round little Perle who cares 
 for the lost guilders ? Ho ! " shouted he, catching 
 up Ferle and tossing her till her flaxen curls touched 
 the wall overhead. He sung snatches of jubilant 
 student-songs till out of breath, and then went to the 
 chimney-corner, filled his pipe, and sat down to soothe 
 his excitement in its sleepy fumes. Dame Zwaller 
 smiled, in spite of her sorrowful regrets. Chancing 
 to look again in the box from which she had drawn 
 forth the necklace, she saw a note lying at the bot 
 tom. Barbara read it. It contained the unhappy 
 6*
 
 130 CONSTAXCE AYLMER. 
 
 story of Omauee aud lyano. Barbara sighed as she 
 dropped the note in the box. and asked her mother 
 to keep it with the beads. The Herr anathematized 
 Lord Percy between his teeth, and puffed more vig 
 orously. 
 
 " The most wonderful thing of all," said Dame 
 Z waller, "is, that an Indian should have brought back 
 gold." 
 
 a Lady Moody has taught him," said mynheer, 
 significantly nodding his head. " Doubtless we might 
 find lyanos in our woods, if we dealt as fairly with 
 them." 
 
 " There may be wrong at somebody's door, but not 
 at mine. I have had no dealings with them," frown 
 ed the thrifty housewife, who truly never gave a 
 thought to the heathen beyond her door, or such as 
 chanced within it, except to be watchful of their pil 
 fering fingers. It never occurred to her that there 
 might be another way of wronging them than to 
 drive hard bargains. So she closed the box tightly, 
 tied it securely, and put it away for safe-keeping till 
 the day when it would be needed for the bridal. 
 Mynheer watched her with a pleased look for the hap 
 piness thus restored to Barbara. Presently a mis 
 chievous twinkle shone in his eyes. He called loudly 
 for Minxey. 
 
 "Run, Snow-ball ! Bid vrow Lisbet to come this 
 way as fast as her two feet can carry her." He 
 chuckled as Minxey darted out of the door before her 
 mistress could forbid, and when Lisbet arrived, all 
 out of breath with the sudden summons, he rubbed
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 131 
 
 his hands in a delighted way, drew a chair to the 
 hearth, and bade her be seated. Dame Zwaller 
 stalked out of the room, vexed at the gossiper's ar 
 rival. 
 
 " Have you heard what has happened to us ? " 
 queried he, looking drolly at her. " Lord Percy has 
 sent Barbara a wedding present ! Chut ! chut ! let me 
 tell it," said he, noticing Barbara's parting lips. But 
 instead of telling any more, he sat quite still and 
 smoked his pipe. After a little silence, he added, 
 
 " It is all of gold, solid gold 1 " 
 
 " He can afford it, after robbing you of all your 
 guilders," said Lisbet, impatiently. 
 
 " But it is worth more than all the guilders," re 
 turned the Herr, smiling graciously at Barbara, whose 
 lips opened again to speak. " Chut ! chut ! keep 
 silence, child." 
 
 " Where is it ? " asked Lisbet. 
 
 " You shall see it at the wedding." 
 
 " When may that be ? " she queried, in surprise. 
 
 " When Domine Megapolensis says the ceremony." 
 
 " I do not believe a word you are telling me," said 
 Lisbet, rising to go, yet seeing in Barbara's face 'that 
 her father's story was not all a fable. 
 
 " Very well, go," retorted the Herr, c; you will 
 find it true one day." And he would not tell her 
 another word, but sat smiling and purring in the 
 chimney corner as contentedly as if a fortune had 
 fallen to him. Lisbet might have lingered longer, had 
 not Dame Zwaller come in frowning, and sharper 
 than ever at the exasperating sight of the Herr's happy
 
 132 CONSTANCE AYLMEIt. 
 
 face, when he knew very well how long and hard 
 they must labor to recover from their loss. Lisbet 
 was afraid of Dame Zwaller's sharp words, and went 
 away sorely puzzled at what she had just heard.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 133 
 
 XIII. 
 
 EDWARD MOKDAUNT recovered slowly. Nearly 
 four weeks had passed, and he was only able to sit in 
 the stuffed chair, his limb supported upon an ingenious 
 fixture contrived by Nicholas Stuyvesant. Poor 
 Nicholas secretly accused himself for all the mis 
 fortunes that had befallen his friends, and made all 
 the amends possible. He had watched Mordaunt 
 through the feverish nights of his earliest illness, had 
 been thoughtful of many comforts and beguilements 
 for the long hours, and had not only taken care that 
 his notes and messages to Gravesend were faithfully 
 transmitted, but more than once went himself, to 
 gratify the whim of the invalid. 
 
 And where was Constance all this time? The 
 short, but violent illness of Sir Henry after the voyage, 
 followed by a painful and longer sickness of Lady 
 Moody, had required her continued presence at the 
 Hall. But her thoughts winged at all times to Herr 
 Roosevelt's little parlor, and lingered with the invalid 
 there. She sent him tempting jellies and confections, 
 the newest book from England, and the sweetest 
 of notes. But all this did not satisfy him. He 
 hungered to see her, to hear her voice, and, not least, 
 he wished to scold her, to show her that he was 
 irritated because she Jiad not chosen to neglect all for 
 him. So he was cross to Nicholas, he was ungrateful
 
 134 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 to Dame Roosevelt. Elsie alone could bring him 
 cheerfulness, with her saucy ways and coquettish 
 graces. At first he was amused, and then interested 
 in studying her character and testing her heart. 
 Vexed at Constance's continued absence, he revenged 
 himself by securing all that was possible of Elsie's 
 time and thoughts. "When Dame Roosevelt came 
 with her knitting, he begged that Elsie might come 
 also. Then he kept her as long as possible, telling 
 her of his travels in distant lauds, and spun out long 
 stories which had to be finished while the good mother 
 went to superintend the dinner. This, with the 
 dainty compliments he cunningly wove into his say 
 ings, was fast casting a spell over her. It was easy 
 and delightful to perform every possible service for 
 this handsome cavalier, and jnst as pleasing to with 
 hold them when it suited Elsie to try the sincerity of 
 his admiration. She called him selfish, cross ; and 
 sometimes went away a whole afternoon, or sat in the 
 next room and sung cheerily at her wheel, that he 
 might know she cared not a whit for his comfort. 
 When she came back, she made him own that lie was 
 ill-natured, ungenerous, and guilty of a whole catalogue 
 of sins, and was exceedingly sorry, till he was forced 
 to laugh at his ludicrous helplessness. She catechised 
 him ; she made love in mockery ; she held court, in 
 which she declared herself both judge and jury and 
 he the culprit, always found guilty. She was wilful, 
 wayward, gay ; pouted and laughed in the same 
 minute ; sung for him, petted him. scolded him, all in 
 a manner which charmed him, and beguiled the hours
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 135 
 
 and days. Dame Roosevelt was bewildered with her 
 audacious way of entertaining a gentleman of his 
 degree, and often called out, " Elsie ! Elsie ! " in a 
 reproachful voice. 
 
 " Leave her alone," Mordaunt would say, with a 
 smile that said plainly to Elsie, '""she pleases me." 
 Then she would flash back a smile that said, " Thank 
 you ; you understand me." 
 
 Mordaunt could not but discover the interest fast 
 awaking in his behalf. It was not difficult to read 
 her face, or to interpret her various moods. He en 
 joyed the discovery that he could torment her, in 
 return for her vagaries ; half seriously, half in play, 
 he flirted with the gay coquette, who he assured him 
 self was not one to pine and sigh and die of a broken 
 heart. He did not care to arrest the tender interest 
 now. 
 
 At last Lady Moody recovered so far, that Con 
 stance could contentedly leave her for two or three 
 days. Nicholas Stuyvesant, still eager to serve Mor 
 daunt, came for her and attended her safely to Dame 
 Zwaller's. She was presently on the way to Herr 
 Roosevelt's with a beating heart. She had not seen 
 Mordaunt since that day of sweet plighting. It 
 seemed like a dream, and she was half afraid she had 
 only dreamed it. How she longed to see him again, 
 to be under the spell of his eyes, to feel the magnet 
 ism of his presence, to hear him speak to her tenderly 
 and reassure her of his love ! How much she intended 
 to tell him ! Every day she had stored away some 
 precious thought of him, had seen or read something
 
 136 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 which he must see, till she had accumulated a heart- 
 ful that must be told sitting beside him, with her hand 
 trustfully in his. She had gone over this first visit in 
 imagination many, Hiany times, and now that its reali 
 zation was near, her heart fluttered so that she could 
 scarcely command her voice, to return the greetings 
 that met her when she entered. There sat the Herr 
 by the fireside, there stood Dame Roosevelt with the 
 never-failing blue stocking, there was Elsie, bathing 
 Mordaunt's brow with her pretty hands, and there sat 
 the ever-present Lisbet, chirruping her chick-a-de-dee 
 of gossip. Constance was abashed. She walked 
 straight to Mr. Mordaunt, thinking a hundred thoughts 
 of disappointment in the instant, hoping he would 
 not kiss her before all these people, yet longing to 
 throw her arms about his neck and rest her head upon 
 his shoulder. He looked so pale as he sat there, that 
 she wanted to tell him how pained she was at his suf 
 fering, and what joy it was to see him again. But 
 instead of all this, at the end of those few steps, she 
 only reached out her hand, permitted it to rest in his 
 a moment, called him Mr. Mordaunt, gave him one 
 dizzy look more frightened than loving, told him 
 simply she was sorry for his long illness, and then 
 accepted the seat which Dame Roosevelt brought near 
 for her. The Herr questioned her about her friends. 
 While she answered, Mordaunt looked at her intently. 
 He had not seen her for a long time. He had grown 
 accustomed to the piquant liveliness and frankness of 
 Elsie. Constance looked reserved and self-possessed, 
 and even cold, but for the color on her cheek, which
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 137 
 
 he plainly saw deepening painfully while he gazed at 
 her. There was an ineffable sweetness in her face and 
 manner that charmed him anew, and made him forget 
 for the time to find fault with her absence. Could it 
 be possible that he had folded her in his arms, that he 
 had kissed that lovely mouth, and beyond all, that she 
 had acknowledged that she loved him ? Yet she sat 
 there so distant, her eyelids quivered and dropped so 
 persistently when his own eyes were questioning her 
 soul, and she was so much more ready to speak to any 
 other in the room than himself, that he was puzzled, 
 and wondered if it was possible she regretted that 
 precious confession. Perhaps she did regret it. He 
 grew thoughtful and silent. Lisbet's chattering 
 annoyed him. Elsie's nervous movements and usual 
 attentions disturbed him. He wished all these kind 
 people would be considerate enough to go away and 
 allow him to talk freely with Constance. But they 
 knew nothing of the relation in which she stood to 
 him, and regarding her simply as their distinguished 
 guest, were unceasing in their efforts to make her visit 
 as agreeable as possible. Mordaunt looked wearied. 
 The sun was declining. Seeing the afternoon gone, 
 Constance arose to go. She approached Mordaunt, 
 and in a low voice asked, 
 
 " Will it be long before you come back to Graves- 
 end ? " 
 
 " The surgeon says I must not move in two weeks 
 
 yet." 
 
 " It is very long," she replied slowly and sadly. 
 " You miss me, then ? "
 
 138 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 "As you perhaps miss me." A smile played 
 quickly upon her lips, and her eyes rested upon his a 
 single moment. Mordaunt took her hand in both his, 
 and kissed it reverently. 
 
 " Good-night," said she, withdrawing it gently, 
 but not displeased. 
 
 " You will come again to-morrow ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Come in the morning and spend all the day with 
 us," suggested Dame Roosevelt. "Mr. Mordaunt 
 likes company. And I suppose you are glad to hear 
 from your friends," she added, turning to him. 
 
 " Yery glad," he returned, smiling. " I am refreshed 
 by what she has told me." 
 
 Constance assented to Dame Roosevelt's kind pro 
 posal, and went away with Lisbet, who, after striving 
 in vain to hear the few words that passed, wrapped 
 herself up and patted along the street at Constance's 
 side. 
 
 u Mr. Mordaunt is long in mending," she chatted, 
 " but he has no need to fret about it, so long as he has 
 pretty Elsie to wait upon him. She manages him just 
 as she pleases. Yet of all the gallants she has jilted, 
 she never found her match till now. 1 cannot quite 
 see which will get jilted this time ! " 
 
 " I am glad she has been so helpful," said Con 
 stance simply. Her gentle heart did not feel one 
 twinge of jealousy. Earnest, trustful herself, it did 
 not occur to her to doubt Mordaunt one moment. 
 Lisbet looked up at the reply, and then ran on prais 
 ing and berating Elsie all in one breath.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 139 
 
 " Lisbet, do you see the sky in the west ? " inter 
 rupted Constance. " Was there ever such burnished 
 gold? And do you see how softly it melts away into 
 the blue?" 
 
 " It is as yellow as my spring daffies," said Lisbet. 
 " That signifies a fair day to-morrow. That will be 
 fine for Dame Zwaller, who goes to Baltazzar's 
 bowery to see what is to be done there for Barbara. 
 You know we shall soon have a wedding, and a gay 
 one it will be." Constance saw that no sense of beauty 
 could enter into her soul through such a pair of round, 
 whisking eyes, and was glad when she reached the 
 gate, and could escape from the whirr of empty gossip. 
 She lingered on the doorstep, with her hand on the 
 huge latch and her face turned toward the shining 
 west, thinking what must be the brightness and glory 
 of heaven, if even that could not represent it. She 
 went in with a smile on her lips. In the chimney 
 corner sat Mistress Primley, waiting patiently to see 
 her. She arose quickly, courtesied low, and expressed 
 her gladness at meeting again. 
 
 "So much has. happened since I saw you," said 
 she. " Poor child, I always knew that screech-owl did 
 not sit on the chimney for nothing. If the Herr had 
 only minded the warning, he would never have lost 
 his guilders. And you, my precious heart, should 
 never have gone on that journey, after such a 
 dream." 
 
 " But I had made it twice before that sorrowful 
 adventure, dear mamma Primley," laughed Constance, 
 sitting on the stool at her feet.
 
 140 CONSTANCE AYLMEB. 
 
 " It was tempting Providence," said she, shaking 
 her head slowly. 
 
 " Would you have me stay always at home for a 
 foolish dream ? " 
 
 " It would be safer for such as you, in this wild 
 country," replied Mistress Primley, smoothing her 
 hair lovingly, and thinking her whilom protegee grown 
 more beautiful than ever. This was true, for the pre 
 cious shining of peace and joy and love was in her 
 face, and there is no beauty like it. 
 
 " I am not afraid, with such brave cavaliers as 
 are here,'' returned Constance. " One feels stronger 
 too, having gone safely through danger. It is good 
 to test the nerves and use them to alarm, just as high- 
 mettled horses are trained to the sound of drums 
 and cannon. I believe I could listen to an Indian's 
 war-whoop with less terror now, than before I heard 
 that shout of ' Stand ! ' from the highwaymen spring 
 ing out of the woods." 
 
 " Oh ! my precious child ! " cried Mistress Primley, 
 
 clasping her hands. " What will be the end of all 
 
 this ? It does not befit you to go about unguarded, 
 
 with such a head on your shoulders. You. are too 
 
 heedless of danger." 
 
 " Would you have me journey in state, like the 
 Director, with four halberdiers at my service, or like 
 a princess with a train of plumed knights, ready to 
 challenge every shadow we met ? " asked Constance 
 with a merry, ringing laugh. " But you may be sure, 
 mamma Primley," she added, seriously, "I will never 
 go alone, as many do. Mary Tilton rides often many
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 141 
 
 miles by herself, and more than one good wife thinks 
 it not ill to carry a bag of grist to the mill, with none 
 to defend her." 
 
 " All wrong. I wish you were safe back in Eng 
 land. But tell me, child, of your escape from that wild 
 Percy, that I knew was never a shoot of a noble race." 
 Urging Constance, she learned part of the story, the 
 tragic fate of Omanee, and the return of the gold neck 
 lace. This led to Barbara's aifairs, which Dame Zwal- 
 ler was ready to discuss fully. After Mistress Primley 
 went away, the evening was filled with plans for the 
 bridal, the house-furnishing and the all-important ward 
 robe. Constance made some pretty suggestions, and 
 busied her fingers in fashioning a tuft of rosettes for 
 the slippers. It was a pleasant, happy group about 
 the fireside that evening, and none felt happier than 
 Constance. Had she not seen Mordaunt, and was 
 she not to see him and listen to him all to-inorrow ? In 
 all the day she could find some moments to speak the 
 stored-up thoughts that had waited so long to be told. 
 What wonder if she fell asleep that night smiling to 
 herself, slept profoundly, and awoke in the morning 
 with a dreamy consciousness that something happy 
 was in store ! The waking to a new day was joyous 
 to her soul, untouched yet by pain. 
 
 She went early to the Roosevelt's, for she knew 
 Mordaunt would be waiting, and the day would be 
 only too short at the longest. Arriving, she found 
 Mynheer Koosevelt consulting with him as to a knotty 
 law matter. But it was pleasant to listen to his voice, 
 to see his face, to catch his frequent glance when she
 
 142 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 looked np from the dainty bit of work brought from 
 Barbara's basket. Later, the Lord Director came in, 
 and jocosely assured him it was no small distinction 
 to stump about the world on a silver-chased leg, and 
 was sorry at the prospect of losing his company in 
 such good fortune. Suddenly perceiving the presence 
 of Constance, he exclaimed, 
 
 " Bless me ! Here is my Christ-child ! When did 
 you arrive, Mistress Aylmer ? By St. Nicholas ! 
 Mordaunt, I should think you would be afraid she 
 would unfold her wings and soar upward. How is 
 the Lady-mother, my child ? Does she manage those 
 straight-coats as well as ever? Herr Roosevelt, if 
 there is anybody in the world who can exorcise the 
 devil out of me, it is Lady Moody. That is high 
 praise. She anoints with the oil of peace all who pass 
 her threshold." 
 
 " I wish she might come to the Stadt Huys ! " said 
 the Herr, quietly folding the papers which he had 
 been overlooking. 
 
 "Yes, yes," retorted the Director, "such a testy 
 set of fellows never sat together in council. They 
 need to be dipped in the oil of peace. Why, sir," 
 said he, turning fiercely to Mordannt, ' ; they wont 
 listen to having the street paved. And yesterday I 
 came near locking them all up till they should agree 
 to light the street with lanterns hung out on poles 
 from the window of every seventh house. ' Fool 
 hardy,' said they, ' to make a beacon of our city, and 
 let the savages know where to find us!' Faugh!" 
 said he, in infinite disgust. " As if wild-eats cannot
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 143 
 
 see as well in darkness as in light. We should never 
 have had that pretty pack of thieves prowling through 
 the city, but for the lack of lanterns. Faugh ! A blind 
 set of bull-dogs I have to manage at the Stadt Huys. 
 And I must be about it," said he, taking his hat, 
 bidding a gruff good-morning, and walking off with 
 the air of a duke among his retainers. Mordaunt smiled. 
 
 " He carries himself so like an old admiral, that 
 one forgets his misfortune," said he. 
 
 " He forgets it himself," added Constance. She 
 was not sorry at losing sight of His High Mightiness, 
 who always inspired her with fear, especially when 
 followed by his four halberdiers with their four grim 
 axes. " If I were poor Barbara, I should be afraid 
 he would order my head off in one of his passions." 
 
 " She must not dare to oppose his whims," said 
 Ilerr Roosevelt, his own temper ruffled at the last 
 words of the Director. " Yes," continued he, as if 
 talking to himself, " he may forget his misfortune, but 
 he never forgets that he is master." And he con 
 tinued to grumble in a low voice till he also took his 
 departure for the Stadt Ilnys. "When he had gone, 
 Mordaunt motioned Constance to come with her work 
 and sit beside him. 
 
 " I wish you to tell me why you remained away 
 so long," said he, abruptly. " Could not Rose have 
 cared for your aunt as well ? " Constance looked up 
 surprised. 
 
 "I explained it in my note. Aunt Deborah is as 
 my mother. I would not leave her till assured that 
 she was recovering."
 
 144 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 " I would have forsaken father or mother to have 
 gone to you, at least for a single day," replied Mor- 
 daunt. 
 
 " I should have told you, you are an undutiful son, 
 and sent you back," was the spirited reply. 
 
 " Do you owe nothing to me, then ? " 
 
 " Yes ; more than I can tell you now," said she 
 with tremulous lips. " Yet so long as I am undeivmy 
 mother's roof, I owe my first loving duty to her' She 
 had no physician. Would I trust her to servants ? " 
 
 " Where was Sir Henry ? " 
 
 "He is not a tender daughter." A silence follow 
 ed these words. Constance continued to sew, bending 
 her head low to hide her emotion. Mordaunt resumed 
 in a low voice : 
 
 " I supposed the love of woman for her affianced 
 husband surpassed every other earthly love." 
 
 " It does ! oh ! it does ! If I had consulted my 
 own heart only, I should have flown to^you at once. 
 Yet I am sure I did right to remain." 
 
 " You are a bit wilful, Constance." 
 
 " What do you wish 3 That I should say I did 
 wrong to wait ? " 
 
 " Yes. If you bear the same love to me that I hold 
 for you, it would not be difficult for you to sec how 
 cruel was the long waiting, and therefore wrong." 
 Constance felt as if her heart was ground under a 
 millstone. 
 
 " I do love you with all my soul," she replied, 
 " yet I cannot think as you do. Would you have me 
 speak an untruth ? "
 
 COXSTAXCE AYLMER. 145 
 
 " What a Huguenot you would make, Constance. 
 Yon put duty and truth above your love for me." 
 
 " Oh, Edward Mordaunt," said she, dropping her 
 work with a gesture, as if she would have thrown her 
 arms around him, " do not trifle with both my heart 
 and my conscience. It is exquisite pain to be doubted 
 thus."" 
 
 "It is because I adore you, my beloved," replied 
 Mordaunt, drawing her toward him and kissing her 
 burning cheek. " I hunger for the whole of your 
 love. I would not divide it with any on earth " or 
 in heaven, he would have added if he dared. Dame 
 Roosevelt opened the door at that moment, and, see 
 ing the fire low upon the hearth, came in to replenish 
 it. Constance went to the window to get more light 
 upon her delicate stitching and to hide her agitated 
 face. Elsie soon joined them, and was satisfied to see 
 her friend so reserved and occupied by the window, 
 and Mordaunt with his head thrown back against the 
 chair, and his eyes closed as if he meditated a nap. 
 She was hurt yesterday at noting how admiringly his 
 eyes rested upon his beautiful guest, and thought 
 then, and even yet, that she would not remain in his 
 way to afford the contrast of her own prettiness with 
 the nameless charm that won every heart to Con 
 stance. She had remained in her room this morning, 
 heroically enduring the cold till worried by her 
 mother into proper hospitality. Though now crouch 
 ing by the fire, she intended to escape at the first 
 opportunity. 
 
 After dinner had been served, Nicholas Stuyve-
 
 140 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 sant came in and infused new life into the family 
 group. He was fast recovering bis natural buoyancy, 
 and with it, something of his old spendthrift ways, 
 which could hardly conform to a plodding devotion 
 to business. He fully intended to perform all his 
 promises to his brother ; but he must have jovial 
 hours now and then outside of that odious mill. 
 What signified a few hours and a few stivers at the 
 inn, or at a friend's fireside ! The mill would turn 
 out enough to pay Baltazzar, somehow ! So he shook 
 his curls for he would wear curls instead of the or 
 thodox cue and tried to recover the good graces of 
 Elsie. But she was strangely sedate to-day, and so 
 he toyed with Constance's work-basket, and chatted 
 gayly with her. She laughed at bis foolish sallies, 
 in spite of her sadness. Mordaunt watched them in 
 silence, and - saw that she spoke freely to him and 
 looked full into his eyes while speaking. 
 
 "Why should she shrink at my touch, and why 
 should her eyelids droop till the lashes sweep her 
 cheek if she catches my ardent gaze ? She does not 
 lay her band fearlessly upon mine, nor caressingly 
 bathe my head, like Elsie. Does she fear me more 
 than she loves me \ Could she not care more tenderly 
 for .Nicholas than for me ? " 
 
 Brooding thus, a keen dislike began to creep in 
 bis heart toward Nicholas, whose patient, friendly 
 devotion was passing for nothing. He had spoiled 
 the morning for himself, and the short afternoon was 
 quickly speeding away, with Nicholas still there, and 
 other friends coming and going, till there were no
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 147 
 
 more moments for the happy converse that Constance 
 had so long promised herself. It was time to go. 
 She laid aside her work with a heavy heart, and, in 
 the dusky twilight, stood beside Mordaunt. 
 
 " 1 return to Gravesend in the morning," said she. 
 
 " Stay another day, Constance. I have scarcely 
 spoken to you yet." 
 
 " I should love to stay, for I have said nothing of 
 all I desired to tell you. But I promised to return, 
 and Aunt Deborah would be alarmed at my delay." 
 
 " Fie ! do not allow her wishes to come always 
 between us," said he, impatiently. 
 
 " But I cannot hold my promise lightly." 
 
 " You are a Puritan, like your father." 
 
 " Aside from this," pursued Constance, with quiet 
 dignity, " I would not willingly test further the hos 
 pitality of your good friends. My cousin purposes to 
 bring me next week, and Barbara's wedding will call 
 me here the week following. I hope you will then 
 be able to return to Gravesend." 
 " You will not stay, then ? " 
 
 " I cannot." 
 
 "Farewell, obdurate Constance," said he, coldly. 
 
 " Good-night," she responded in a tender, sad 
 voice. 
 
 Slowly walking home, Constance questioned her 
 self. Abstracted and heavy-hearted by the Zwaller 
 fireside, she questioned herself. In the quaint bed 
 where Barbara lay nestled close beside her, she lay 
 wakeful and thoughtful, while all the house slept: 
 Had that day brought the looked-for happiness?
 
 148 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 Why did it leave such a weight upon her heart ? Did 
 not Mordaunt love her ? Yes, she was sure he did. 
 Did she not love him most tenderly? Oh yes, she 
 was very sure of that. Must every other affection be 
 put away for this? All sense of grateful dependence 
 upon others be swallowed up in this one love? Was 
 it selfish for Mordaunt to demand it ? "I would not 
 divide it with any on earth," were the words that 
 came back to her now. Was it noble, generous, to 
 refuse even dear Aunt Deborah a share of her loving 
 duty? Her thoughts frightened her. It grieved, 
 wounded her to suspect that Mordaunt was not the 
 perfect being she imagined. She would not have it 
 so, and began to reproach herself for not humoring 
 his fretful mood. He was ill, and weak and weary. 
 She wished she had soothed and caressed him, as 
 others might have done even promised to stay. 
 Why was she timid and cold and obstinate? Ac 
 cusing herself thus, and feeling that she was a wicked 
 mortal, unworthy of Mordaunt, she fell asleep at last, 
 consoling herself that to-morrow should repair it all ; 
 for she would stay. But when to-morrow came, she 
 reflected that it would seem unmaidenly to linger at 
 the Roosevelt's another day ; and she felt that her 
 presence was not welcome to Elsie. Then Aunt 
 Deborah, not wholly recovered, would suffer nervous 
 fears on her account. Nicholas, too, had arranged to 
 go with her that day, and horses were engaged and 
 waiting the other side of the ferry. For this once, 
 Mordaunt must allow her to have some regard for 
 the comfort and happiness of others. She prepared
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEU. 149 
 
 to go with quiet gentleness, and, by the time the 
 morning sun was shining on the chimney-tops, was 
 walking toward the ferry, looking back with a sink 
 ing heart toward the little window of Mordaunt's 
 parlor.
 
 150 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 XIT. 
 
 DAME ZWALLER prided herself upon the prepara 
 tions for her daughter's marriage. Always over 
 whelmed with cares, she was never so burdened as 
 now. Mynheer wondered why the house needed to be 
 renovated from top to bottom, as if the guests were to 
 inspect it, and could not see what the cellar and dairy 
 had to do with the event further than to furnish good 
 cheer. Old Mabel was weary and sore with scrubbing 
 and waxing. Then -such preparations for the wedding 
 supper were never heard of before in New Amster 
 dam. Lisbet was called in to assist, since she had the 
 art of puffing biscuits and cakes into airier heights 
 than anybody else. What a field of exploration this 
 opportunity offered to her innocent eyes! Perhaps 
 foreseeing this, Dame Zwaller had prepared her house 
 for the ordeal, knowing well that what she saw, all the 
 town saw. In due time she had inventoried the 
 bride's wardrobe, and, in her love for the good Bar 
 bara, desired to impress everybody with the queenli- 
 ness of her outfit. Thus it came about that all the 
 prudent mothers were astonished and censorious over 
 the extravagant number and costliness of articles 
 which, in truth, existed only in Lisbet's imagination. 
 
 " Six satin petticoats ! " said Lisbet. One, of white 
 silk, was in Barbara's possession. 
 
 " Flanders lace by the yard ! " she exclaimed to the
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMKK. 151 
 
 \vrapt listeners. A single yard had come in a note 
 from Constance Aylmer, that day. 
 
 " A set of jewels fit for a princess ! " This also, 
 upon inspection, dwindled to a very pretty topaz 
 brooch that came in the same package. 
 
 Then, how they all ran to peer from the doors at 
 the passing carts filled with furnishings, Lisbet said, 
 for the house at the bowery ! And what eagerness to 
 see Dame Zwaller get out now in the high-backed 
 sleigh for the bowery also, as if she had not been there 
 many times before ! 
 
 This bowery was a rich one, with a new house of 
 brick, yellow and black. The upper story projected 
 over the lower sufficiently to aft'ord shelter to the 
 Director and his companions, when he would choose 
 to sit there in the summer afternoons. And he might 
 sit there often, for the bowery was his and not Baltaz- 
 zar's, and he intended to retire to it altogether some 
 day, when he tired of his office, or his office of him. 
 A wide smooth road had been made the previous 
 summer from the city, and this road was already the 
 race-course, the pleasure-drive, and the favorite walk 
 of the young Hollanders. Barbara was not likely 
 to lack for amusement or friendly visits in her new 
 home. 
 
 The wedding evening came at last, and with it all 
 the great people of New Amsterdam, to the house of 
 Burgomaster Zwaller. The Governor was there in his 
 most genial mood. Herr Roosevelt came in a new 
 pair of buff breeches, and his quiet wife honored the 
 occasion in new taffeta. Elsie appeared in a velvet
 
 152 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 bodice laced with a silver chain, and her pretty feet 
 were never so well displayed as now, in her scarlet 
 shoes and the envied Christmas stockings of red and 
 white. She was full of vivacity, and ready for a flirt 
 and a frolic. 
 
 The arrival of Domine Megapolensis, his wife 
 Macktelt, and their boyish Heldigond, produced a sen 
 sation, for all at once realized that a wedding was in 
 hand. Then the courtly Sir Henry Moody entered with 
 Constance, and was directly offered a chair near the 
 Governor. Constance, always with an air of graceful 
 ease, looked more English than ever in her trailing robe 
 of blue silk, its trimmings of delicate lace, the cordon 
 of pearls in her hair, and the soft laced handkerchief, 
 covering, but not hiding her fair shoulders. Mr. Mor- 
 daunt, from his arm-chair in the corner, scrutinized 
 her well, and wondered at her unconsciousness of the 
 admiration with which many eyes followed her. When 
 she came near, he gallantly arose and offered his seat. 
 She refused with a bright smile at seeing him there, 
 with his limb loosed from its wooden prison, though 
 dependant upon a crutch. Nicholas Stuyvesant, al 
 ways ready to serve either of them, brought his own 
 chair and placed it for her. 
 
 Dame Zwaller hastened hither and thither, now 
 looking in to see if the luxurious supper was in certain 
 perfection, now greeting her guests and assisting them 
 to unwrap, watching the fires and the lights, retouch 
 ing the dress of the waiting bride, and, in fine, per 
 forming the duties of host and hostess, servant and 
 friend, while mynheer, her spouse, sat quietly enjoying
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 153 
 
 himself with his townsmen, not once thinking there 
 could be any thing else for him to do. The world 
 moved easily to him, and he was mystified to know 
 how his busy dame managed to make a mountain of 
 care out of such a joyful occasion as this. 
 
 Now she was telling the Domine that all was in 
 readiness, then she reminded the father that he was to 
 give away the bride, and then made way for the two 
 whose happy hour had come. All eyes were upon the 
 trembling Barbara. Her bodice laced with the gold 
 chain of Christmas memories, the white silk petticoat 
 blue-bordered, and the white shoes with blue rosettes 
 were duly inspected by all feminine eyes. The full 
 string of golden beads encircled her neck, testifying 
 her industry, and proving her ability to manage a 
 house of her own. Only Mistress Primley was a 
 little frightened at the sight of the beads, and thought, 
 it ominous that they had already hung about the neck 
 of a dead maiden. 
 
 Barbara looked ruddy and bashful, and Baltazzar 
 the embodiment of happiness. They were doubtless 
 glad when the long ceremony and the long discourse 
 upon their duties were finished, and when relief came 
 in the shape of happy wishes from the friends crowd 
 ing about them. Then followed the fine supper, the 
 drinking of health to the newly married, the ringing 
 of glasses, the tumult of voices, and afterward music 
 and dancing. 
 
 Lisbet was there, buzzing like a beetle, and gay as 
 a rainbow with ribbons. She was almost as tireless 
 as Elsie in the dance. Her frequent partner was a 
 7*
 
 154 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 tall, slender bachelor, whose height contrasted oddly 
 with her small stature. He had fine, thoughtful eyes, 
 fair hair, and moved quietly through the intricate 
 measures, listening to Lisbet's prattle. 
 
 " "Who is waltzing with Lisbet ? " asked Constance 
 of the Director, near whom she was standing, while 
 looking at the waltzers. 
 
 " Hans Yan Elslant, the poet and schoolmaster," 
 was the reply. 
 
 " Have I not seen him bearing the State cushions 
 before Your Highness, on the Sabbath ? " 
 
 " The same," said the Director, nodding and smil 
 ing. 
 
 " And is it not he who reads the Commandments 
 and Articles of Faith for the Domine, or a Psalm, 
 while the people assemble ? " 
 
 " Yes, sweet Mistress Aylmer." 
 
 " I thought him the curate." 
 
 " We have no curates ; that smacks of the Eng 
 lish Church ! " 
 
 " The schoolmaster has a variety of occupations, 
 then," added Constance quickly, lest he should go 
 into a passion over the curates. 
 
 " Enough to keep him out of mischief, truly : he 
 rings the bell, provides the sacrament, gives the fu 
 neral invitations, catechizes the children, and ought to 
 whip them, but I suspect gives them bonbons and 
 flowers instead. Hans ! " he called aloud, seeing he 
 had finished whirling with Lisbet, and stood wiping 
 his brow. Hans obeyed the summons. 
 
 " Hans, this is Mistress Aylmer, of Moody Hall ;
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 155 
 
 she wishes to know something of our Holland school 
 master." 
 
 Hans bowed respectfully, and waited for the ques 
 tions he expected, while Constance stood embarrassed 
 at the abrupt summons. Seeing the Director occu 
 pied, however, with a communication from Councillor 
 De Sille, she recovered herself, and was soon interest 
 ed in a quiet chat about the Old and the ISTew Am 
 sterdam. His heart evidently yearned for the Old. 
 
 " One must descend to the life of a peasant, here. 
 Starve, too, for books. Those I brought with me 
 look like bones gnawed by a hungry dog. I miss the 
 atmosphere of learned people. I am sick sometimes 
 for sympathy." 
 
 " But you should not live upon the thoughts of 
 others, now," said Constance, timidly. " A new 
 country ought to suggest new thoughts. You are a 
 poet ; there is much to inspire you here." 
 
 u A rugged country, a rugged people, and a rug 
 ged life. It is too real for poetry," he answered, 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 " I do not know, for I have no gift," said Con 
 stance, " yet I think its very roughness would lend 
 vigor and manliness to your thoughts." 
 
 A gleam of pleasure lit Hans' face, and he looked 
 at Constance without seeing her, far beyond her, as 
 if he caught a glimpse of what he might achieve. It 
 lifted his mourning soul as it had not been lifted 
 since he left the Father-land. Recalling himself, he 
 said, 
 
 " May I ask you if it is not repulsive to mingle
 
 156 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 with rude people, after having been bred in courtly 
 society ? " 
 
 " I find so much to love in them, that I forget all 
 else," said Constance, sweetly. 
 
 " But the ignorance, the emptiness of soul ! " said 
 Hans, with an impatient gesture. " Yet I forget," 
 he added ; " my home is everywhere : the children's 
 homes shelter me. Sometimes they are difficiilt to 
 endure. The good dame at whose cottage I am now 
 quartered scolded me soundly this morning, for filling 
 her children's heads with nonsense. ' As if the world 
 turned over every day, and I not know it,' said she. 
 ' A fine story ! would'nt my duck-pond have been 
 emptied long ago, if the world turned a somersault 
 every day ? ' : 
 
 " You are a persecuted Galileo ! " laughed Con 
 stance. "But it is pleasant to be Galileo, after 
 all." 
 
 " Thank you, Mistress Aylmer, you have done me 
 good," returned Hans, bowing, and retiring at the 
 approach of the Councillor. 
 
 The music ceased, and the older portion of the 
 company began to break up. The young,people pre 
 pared to escort the bride to her new home, and were 
 laughingly selecting partners while Constance stood 
 talking with Mordaunt. Sir Henry had secured 
 Elsie's promise, Hans Van Elslant was already lead 
 ing Lisbet to his sleigh, and the rest were making 
 ready for the merry ride, so that it only remained 
 for Nicholas Stuyvesant to beg Constance to accom 
 pany him.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 157 
 
 "Do not go," said Mordaunt, irritated at the 
 politeness of this gay young Hollander. 
 
 "Barbara would be disappointed," she replied, 
 
 hesitating. 
 
 " She will not miss you among so many," urged 
 
 Mordaunt. 
 
 " But she told me this evening she desired to show 
 me her new home, which I have not yet seen. What 
 can I do for you if I remain ? " He regarded her with 
 a wounded expression, and replied in the peculiar 
 tone usual to him in such moods, 
 
 "I merely supposed you would prefer to remain." 
 
 By this time Dame Zwaller, who was still super 
 intending all things, came to express her wonder that 
 Constance was not getting ready. 
 
 " I think I will not go, if you please," said she 
 gently. 
 
 " But Barbara counts upon you. Her will is law, 
 this wedding-day ; you cannot refuse. Come, I will 
 wrap you warmly in my scarlet cloak." 
 
 There was no refusing her peremptory tone. Con 
 stance drew back a moment, and laying her hand 
 upon Mordaunt's in a pleading way, whispered, 
 
 " I shall not be long gone. Wait till I return, for 
 I have something to say to you." Then she submitted 
 to the motherly kindness of her friend, and was pres 
 ently muffled and seated beside Nicholas. The gay 
 procession now sped away amid the jingling of bells 
 and snapping of whips, making a lively uproar that 
 shocked the ears of all who had not been bidden to 
 the wedding.
 
 158 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 A bountiful repast was in waiting at the bowery, 
 quite superfluous, though hospitable. The happiness 
 and long life of bride and groom were drank, and, 
 after many congratulations upon the cheeriness of the 
 new abode, the escort returned over the smooth road, 
 and scattered tired and sleepy to their homes. Nich 
 olas intended to take Mordaunt back to the Roosevelt's 
 in his sleigh, but he had chosen to walk there on his 
 crutch without waiting for Constance. She did not 
 see him again, as Sir Henry was obliged to return to 
 Gravesend early in the morning. 
 
 Two weeks more went by before Mordaunt pre 
 pared to return to Gravesend. He announced his 
 intention one evening to the Herr, and both to him 
 and Dame Roosevelt acknowledged very feelingly 
 their untiring kindness during his long illness. They 
 really regretted his purpose to leave them. Many 
 hours that would have passed in dull silence had been 
 made delightful by his efforts to amuse ; and besides, 
 he had often rendered important service to the Herr 
 in state matters. Certainly Herr Roosevelt would 
 miss his clear-headed interpretations of the law, and 
 his skilful manipulations when an antagonist was to 
 be overcome at the Stadt Huys. 
 
 A shadow fell upon Elsie's face when she heard 
 him say he was going. How could she spare that 
 handsome face from her every day vision ? How dull 
 it would be without his entertaining chat ! How hard 
 to lose the sweet sayings and the gallant services of 
 this cavalier ! Every other one was so stupid and 
 awkward. Even Nicholas was insupportable when
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 159 
 
 near him. Her heart uprose against his going. She 
 had been slowly reeling off a fine flaxen thread from 
 the full spindle, but now, pushing away her work, she 
 sprang up, saying impatiently, 
 
 " I hope you will break your other leg in starting 1" 
 
 " Elsie ! " exclaimed her father, with stern reproval 
 in his tone. 
 
 " Elsie ! Elsie ! " repeated the mother faintly, as if 
 frightened. 
 
 " I mean well enough," explained Elsie. " I only 
 wish somehow to keep him there in his chair." 
 
 " What ! always ? " said Mordaunt, laughing. 
 
 " Yes, always," replied Elsie ; " that is, as long as 
 you are good-natured, and entertain me with tales and 
 gallant words." 
 
 " Oh ho ! then any fine-spoken cavalier with bro 
 ken bones will do. There is the Lord Director he 
 can tell of his adventures by the hour." 
 
 " No ; he is crosser even than yourself." 
 
 " Well, there is Nicholas." 
 
 " Oh, no. I broke his heart once, and he was lively 
 as a spring robin the next time I saw him. He gets 
 mended too quick." 
 
 " Then Antony Jansen, who danced so vigorously 
 at Barbara's wedding." 
 
 " Wrong again," laughed Elsie. " He is too much 
 a giant. Did you know his grandfather carried ten 
 bushels of wheat up stairs at one going ? one bag on 
 each arm, one on each shoulder, and one between his 
 teeth. Now, if I happened to tease Antony Jansen 
 as I tease you sometimes, I should expect him every
 
 160 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 minute to catch me up and shake me just as old pussj 
 picks up her kittens." 
 
 " Nonsense, Elsie," said her father, smiling in 
 spite of himself; " go back to your reel, and stop your 
 chattering." Always doing as she pleased, Elsie did 
 not stir from her position before the fire, with her 
 hands clasped behind her. 
 
 " I cannot work to-night," she said. " I wish 
 Hans Van Elslant would fix all the reels and wheels 
 on the chimney-tops. He said to me once, there is 
 no need that women should spin and weave all the 
 days of their life. He says the wind should be made 
 to do all the work. I believe as he does; that if the 
 wind grinds the corn for the men, it can spin flax for 
 us. I shall ask him some day to put my wheel in the 
 place of the weather-vane." 
 
 " What would the world come to, if the women had 
 no spinning or weaving to keep them busy?" said 
 Herr Roosevelt, scornfully. " We should not be able 
 to live for the scandal. What would you do, my fine 
 lady, if you neither knit nor spun ? " 
 
 Elsie looked puzzled a moment, but she did not 
 intend to give up her view of the matter. She replied, 
 quizzically, 
 
 " Oh, I would smoke and sit by the fire, and put 
 on a big wig and go to the Stadt Huys and make laws 
 good laws, not such as forbid games at Pinkster and 
 forbid Maypoles." 
 
 " Aye, woman fashion, you confound the Direc 
 tor's proclamations with the laws," interrupted Hor- 
 daunt.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 161 
 
 " And what would you have us do ? " asked her 
 father. 
 
 " Watch the wheels, and see that the wind does 
 not blow them away." 
 
 " Then who is to make our linsey-woolsey, dimity 
 and linen, our butter, cheese, oly-koeks and noodles? 
 Ah, bah ! we should be starved, poverty stricken." 
 
 " But we should have all the more time to fashion 
 these dainties," returned Elsie. 
 
 " I thought you were going to the Stadt Huys to 
 make laws ! " said her father, drily. 
 
 " Truly ; I forgot," and she tossed back her pretty 
 head and laughed with the rest at her discomfiture. 
 
 Mr. Mordannt really set out for Gravesend that 
 week, and received a cordial welcome at Moody Hall. 
 Constance rejoiced at his return, for now there would 
 be no misunderstandings which she could not quickly 
 remove ; unconstrained by the presence of strangers, 
 she could bestow all the little attentions that her loving 
 heart suggested. Mordaunt was satisfied now. He 
 claimed all her time, with no rivals to trouble him. 
 But, tormented by no real jealousy, he feigned it some 
 times in order to test her affection, or to delight him 
 self with the telltale expression of her face while he 
 told his doubts, or the old, and always sweet, story of 
 his love. It was plain that her life was daily more 
 and more absorbed in his. 
 
 They were busy with the future. Plans were 
 made for the betrothinent at an early day. After 
 consulting with Lady Moody, it was decided that the 
 Zwallers and the Stuyvesants should be present as
 
 162 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 witnesses and guests. The wedding was to be defer 
 red till after Mordaunt's intended journey to Virgin 
 ia. Meantime, they occupied themselves with plans 
 for a stone house, which was to be built to receive 
 them as soon as they were ready to go to his Virginia 
 home. Time went softly with downy wing, unnoted, 
 except as it brought nearer the day of betrothment. 
 
 Early in the appointed week, a messenger came 
 from Governor Stuyvesant, asking Mordaunt's imme 
 diate service in a case which threatened difficulty 
 with England. It admitted of no delay. His High 
 Mightiness wished him to attend upon him at once. 
 The matter was submitted to a family council, and 
 all admitted that it was for his interest to obey the 
 summons. 
 
 "It is quite right," said Constance, the day of his 
 departure, " though Mistress Primley would name it 
 an ill omen to postpone our plighting a second time." 
 
 " I may not be long detained," replied Mordaunt, 
 half pleased at her downcast look, though pained him 
 self at this new separation. 
 
 " Will you make me a promise ? " she asked, with a 
 beating heart. 
 
 " Tell me iirst your demand." 
 
 " It concerns my happiness." 
 
 " I grant it then," said he, smiling upon her in his 
 fascinating way. 
 
 ""Whatever reason you may have for doubting my 
 love for you while absent, will you tell me plainly, and 
 listen to my explanation before condemning me ? " 
 
 " Suspend sentence till you have a hearing," add-
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 163 
 
 ed Mordaunt, drawing her more closely. " Granted 
 and sealed," said he, tenderly bestowing a kiss. 
 
 Constance was happier for this promise. The pos 
 sibility of its being broken did not occur to her. 
 
 When he had gone, the house seemed wofully 
 vacant. Aunt Deborah and Sir Henry were but shad 
 ows in the space he had filled. She perceived now 
 how much he was to her, how entirely he occupied 
 her thoughts to the exclusion of others. Lady Moody 
 saw that she listlessly returned to her old occupa 
 tions. 
 
 " I do not regret the delay in thy formal plight 
 ing," she said. " It is well to have time to discover 
 mutual failings, that disappointment may not creep 
 into the heart after marriage." 
 
 " And if one does discover ? " suggested Constance 
 timidly. 
 
 " Thee can better bear and forbear than if sud 
 denly made aware of faults. Thou and Edward are 
 now walking in the moonlight of love. Love idealizes 
 its object, just as the natural moonlight softens and 
 beautifies the face on which it falls. When the full 
 day of married life shines upon thee, it will grieve 
 thee to behold how marred is the visage deemed per 
 fect, unless thy knowledge shall prepare thee." 
 
 Constance thought of the many troubled hours 
 that had come already, and comforted herself that 
 they had come now rather than later. She longed to 
 
 confide this to her aunt, but no ! Love hushed the 
 
 words. She would have no one suspect that Mor 
 daunt lacked aught that was noble. She would resent
 
 164 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 the suspicion. She would hide it from her own eyes. 
 He was gone now. She would think only of his 
 manly figure, his handsome features, his dreamy, fas 
 cinating smile, and all his precious words.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 165 
 
 XY. 
 
 IT was late in March when Mr. Mordaunt went 
 to New Amsterdam. All of April passed, and he was 
 still detained. During this time he had journeyed 
 into New England, and had suffered some hardships 
 in his travels. But he assured Constance his return 
 was now not far, and added to his letter the request 
 that she would not receive Nicholas Stuyvesaiit's 
 visits, for he had heard of his going often to Moody 
 Hall. To this she replied that he did not come to see 
 her, but to confer with Sir Henry about Lightfoot, 
 which he desired to purchase for the race-course. If 
 he paid any court to her, she knew that it was for the 
 sake of winning her consent to the sale. " I cannot 
 part with Lightfoot," she wrote, " because I love the 
 creature that bore us so well out of danger, and 
 would not see him suffer the cruelties of tbe races. 
 Perhaps Nicholas thinks he can overcome my scruples 
 by his importunities, which only serve to increase my 
 love for the graceful brute he would take from me. 
 It was only yesterday that Aunt Deborah cbided me 
 for putting my arms round Lightfoot's neck and feed 
 ing him with some of Chloe's good bread." To this 
 Mordaunt crisply replied, that " so many journeys to 
 Gravesend were hardly needed for the barter of a 
 horse." Constance sighed, and strove to avoid even 
 the sight of Nicholas.
 
 166 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 The sunny days of early May had come, and there 
 was much to be done without and within the house to 
 restore freshness after the long winter. Constance 
 was up with the early sun, and not a bird in the 
 woods beyond the green meadow sung a more joyful 
 song than was carolled from her lips while perform 
 ing her share of duties. The gardener had com 
 menced his pleasant task, Pete and Mingo were 
 ploughing the fields, Tobee was once more watching 
 his flocks and cows, and when night came called 
 them lazily as of old, leading them to their night enclo 
 sure with the monotonous cry of " Home ! Home ! " 
 Within, Rose was rejoicing over the deepening yellow 
 of her dairy treasures, and Chloe was grumbling that 
 the winter store was failing, that neither field nor gar 
 den yielded anything to her purpose, and made great 
 ado that she was expected to concoct fine dinners 
 from an empty larder, yet never failed to serve a feast 
 when occasion required. 
 
 On one of these bright days of happy waiting for 
 Mordaunt, Constance was sowing flower-seeds in the 
 borders of the garden walk. A wide-rimmed hat 
 shielded her face from the sun. Sir Henry was stand 
 ing by the gateway just outside the palisades, looking 
 at his new chaise lately brought from England, and 
 which he and Nicholas Stuyvesant had been trying. 
 Seeing Constance in the garden, he called her. 
 
 " Come and take an airing in the new chaise with 
 Nicholas. Tell me if it is not as good as a coach, and 
 better than a pillion." 
 
 " How shall I be able to tell yon, when I have
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEB. 167 
 
 never ridden in a coach ? The sight of those whir 
 ring wheels at my side will make me dizzy." 
 " No, you will forget the wheels." 
 " But 1 am ill-dressed to ride in so fine state." 
 " "Well enough," said Sir Henry. 
 " Perhaps it would please Aunt Deborah to try it." 
 " No, she thinks it a whirligig, and not becoming 
 to her staidness," persisted Sir Henry, who, seeing 
 his cousin's reluctance, was all the more determined 
 she should go. It was of no use to oppose his whims. 
 Constance yielded, placed a stone upon the seed-pa 
 pers and took her seat in the chaise beside Nicholas, 
 with some misgivings. Away they rolled, leaving Sir 
 Henry looking after them in admiration of the vehicle, 
 and drawing after them, for a long way, a troop of 
 boys who stared at it with open-mouthed wonder. 
 
 The road was grass-grown ; even the cart-tracks 
 were not sufficiently worn to throw dust, so that the 
 wheels rolled almost noiselessly along the way, rat 
 tling over a chance stone or rumbling quickly across 
 the rude planks that bridged an occasional stream. It 
 was a perfect day for a drive. The air was velvety to 
 the cheek, and balmy with the new verdure and the 
 May-blossoms. The young, glossy leaves upon the 
 trees stretched themselves in the sun, after their long 
 sleep in the downy buds. One could almost see them 
 shake themselves out and grow. Yiolets peeped out 
 from the green grass beneath, wake-robins spread out 
 their purple and white petals in gaping wonder at the 
 beautiful world around them, and the spring beauties, 
 delicate enough to wreath a fairy's head, innocently
 
 163 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 lifted their faces from the mossy knolls, content 
 with their humble place. 
 
 Wherever these flowers flecked the ground with 
 their blue, white, and purple, Constance begged to 
 alight and gather, till her broad hat was crowned, and 
 her hands and her lap were fully laden. 
 
 " They are wasted," said she, seeing them begin to 
 wilt. " Homesick little things, I am sorry I took you 
 out of the cool grass. Do not gather any more, Nich 
 olas, they please me best where they grow. These 
 have lost their beauty. I do not like to hold them. 
 They are like dead hopes." 
 
 Without loitering for more, they sped on, too ex 
 hilarated by the fresh breeze and joy in the redundant 
 life everywhere visible, to notice how far they had 
 driven, till a sudden turn brought them in sight of the 
 great white oak. The road was straight for half a mile 
 beyond. A horseman was riding towards then). Trav 
 ellers were not frequent, and it was easy to imagine 
 him to be Mordaunt. They decided not to turn back 
 yet, but to drive slowly and meet him. 
 
 "I am sure it is he, I know his plumes," said Con 
 stance. Her face lighted with pleasure. Then she 
 remembered her dusty dress and her tossed hair, and 
 how observing and scrupulous he was. A quick 
 thought of the pretty dimity in which she intended 
 to have met him, vexed her. Then it flashed upon 
 her that Nicholas was beside her, and she would have 
 given worlds if she was only back in the garden sow 
 ing seeds. What would Mordaunt think ? She was 
 frightened now. Mistress Primley with all her croak-
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 169 
 
 ings crowded into her thoughts. The dead flowers 
 and dead hopes came to mind, and she shook the with 
 ered blossoms all out of her lap. 
 
 By this time the rider approached, and was survey 
 ing the chaise and its occupants as he came near. 
 Constance leaned forward to speak. Mordaunt looked 
 incredulous, then astonished, then angry ; so angry 
 that the veins of his temples were swollen. Striking 
 his spurs into his horse, it leaped forward and dashed 
 along the road in a bounding gallop. Constance 
 dropped back in her seat, and was silent. Nicholas 
 knew she was pained at the angry slight, and tried to 
 palliate it. 
 
 " He could not have known us. The rim of your 
 hat almost hides your face. Then too, this grand 
 new chaise ! How could he recognize? it, when he has 
 never seen it? He did not know us." Turning about, 
 he flourished his whip and followed fast after Mordaunt, 
 who presently disappeared in the windings of the road. 
 
 The chaise rolled softly and swiftly over the grassy 
 road, between the same clearings and forest as when 
 they went ; but the wayside flowers were not noted, 
 nor did the woods ring with Constance's laughter. 
 The two were as if they had grown old since passing 
 before. Nicholas began to perceive the truth that 
 Mordaunt was jealous of him. He could understand 
 now the conduct which he had attributed to the pee 
 vishness of illness. Why had he been so stupid? Con 
 stance avoided him often, and this was the reason! 
 He sat dumb beside her, his eyes opening clearly to 
 his own folly.
 
 170 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 "Why have I involved myself in this new trouble ? 
 Am I to be a perpetual thorn to my friends ? " he 
 thought. "Am I bait on the devil's rod, held out to 
 draw all whom I love and esteem into difficulty and 
 misery? and shall I dangle thus always? Those 
 races have got me this sweetness. Oh, that I were 
 back in the mill ! Once out of this affair with Mor 1 
 daunt (and who knows how the mad fellow will end 
 it), I will back to my flour-bags. Bother Lightfoot ! 
 I will pay Baltazzar. Good soul ! he is tired of 
 grumbling." 
 
 The chaise was now rolling along by the palisades ; 
 in a moment it stopped at the entrance. Nicholas 
 looked about as if not quite sure as to the kind of 
 reception awaiting him. No one was there, however, 
 but Mingo, who led the horse away as if there had 
 been no other arrival. Constance went quickly to the 
 Library. No one was there. Finding her aunt, she 
 asked, surprised, 
 
 "Is not Mr. Mordaunt arrived ? " 
 "Nay. Did thee look for him this morning ? " 
 " He passed us in our drive, and I thought to find 
 him here." Constance told it all, and then asked, 
 " Was I wrong to go witli Nicholas ? " 
 " I see no fault in thee. Neither will Edward, 
 when he knows how it happened." Constance shook 
 her head sadly. 
 
 " Has he been thus displeased before ? " 
 " Never so deeply. Aunt Deborah, I ought not 
 to have gone." 
 
 " If Edward is jealous-minded, thee must not shut
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEU. 171 
 
 tliine eyes to it. It will mar all thy happiness and 
 his. Be a true woman and tell him his fault wisely, 
 and help him mend. Is not thy courage sufficient ? " 
 
 " I spoke plainly once, and ever so gently ; yet he 
 was angry." 
 
 " My child, it is better to pluck the thistles now if 
 they do sting thee, else they will overgrow and de 
 stroy all the love-blossoms. Edward's affection will 
 be a torment rather than a joy in thy future, if he per 
 sists in this wise." 
 
 " Aunt Deborah, you tell him all this when he 
 comes, will you not ? " 
 
 " He would take it more kindly from thee." 
 
 Constance sat plucking the flowers to pieces, leaf 
 by leaf, from the wreathed hat lying in her lap. 
 
 " Edward may yet come. Thee had better change 
 thy garden dress," said her aunt, smiling gently at the 
 decorated hat. Thus reminded, she hastened away 
 to freshen her toilet. 
 
 All that day she watched for Mr. Mordaunt, ut 
 terly unable to occupy herself as usual. She went to 
 the door at every sound, only to be disappointed. 
 Every footstep made her heart beat quickly, for she 
 thought he meant to surprise her. Once or twice, 
 when she believed no one saw her, she walked out 
 side the palisades to look along the road for him. 
 Night qame without him. " He will come to-mor 
 row," she said cheerfully to herself, yet the next day, 
 and the next, brought the same hope and the same 
 disappointment. A week later, Tiuion, the Round 
 head weaver, came from a trip to New Amsterdam ;
 
 172 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 in answer to Sir Henry's inquiries, he said that Mr. 
 Mordaunt was at Herr Eoosevelt's. Sir Henry was 
 in a rage at the conduct of his friend. He pro 
 nounced it unworthy of a true cavalier, unmanly, un 
 generous, and would have continued to denounce him, 
 had not Constance astonished him by rising up in his 
 defence. 
 
 " It is not easy to serve the fair sex. One never 
 knows on which side of a question to iind them," 
 said he. 
 
 A few days afterward, he asked Constance to go 
 with him to New Amsterdam. They would go in 
 the chaise as far as Breuklyn. The pleasant weather 
 and the cradle-like chaise were not to be resisted. 
 Perhaps, too, the possibility of meeting Mordaunt 
 was not the least of the reasons why she gladly con 
 sented. They accordingly set out in the morning of 
 a cheery day, and reached Breuklyn in time for Cor 
 nelius Dirksen's noon trip across the ferry. 
 
 When Constance arrived at tho Zwaller's, she 
 found Dame Zwaller seated in the doorway, stitching 
 a jacket of linen fustian. A heart-shaped pincushion 
 pierced with needles and pins, a pair of scissors, an oil 
 skin bag of thread, and a bunch of keys, all dangled 
 from her apron-strings, significant of thrift. Mistress 
 Primley sat within, stitching also industriously. She 
 looked up on hearing a voice, and then threw up her 
 hands, as she always did at sight of Constance. 
 
 " I knew you were coming, for my scissors stuck 
 fast in the floor, and the pins pointed to Gravesend 
 when they fell," she exclaimed.
 
 COXSTAXCE AYLMER. 173 
 
 " Your scissors and pins are wiser than mine, then, 
 for though they often fall, nobody comes," laughed 
 Constance. 
 
 " You should have told me what they said," added 
 Dame Zwaller, " and I would have laid by a bit of 
 that, fine cod for her comfort." Saying this, she 
 bustled about, setting a repast fit for a princess, 
 though Constance protested she desired nothing better 
 than her white bread and sweet milk. Meantime, 
 Mistress Primley was reciting some harmless gossip, 
 prattling about Lisbet and Hans Yan Elslant, how 
 they strolled on the Battery at sunset, or walked to 
 the bowery on pleasant Saturdays, and how Hans had 
 sported big yellow daffies in his button-hole at church, 
 as if everybody did not know they came from Lisbet's 
 garden. 
 
 "A fine couple they will make, with his head 
 always among the stars and hers always in her neigh 
 bor's affairs. One would think such a man of learn 
 ing would be loath to marry a chatter-box," she said, 
 forgetting her work and folding her fat hands pensive 
 ly. But she resumed it again, as Dame Zwaller came 
 back to tell Constance that Barbara was with her to 
 day, and had gone up to see the Domine's wife. She 
 would send Minxey to call her home as soon as she 
 
 had finished standing the dishes in the dresser. 
 
 , 
 
 So small a detention as this simple placing of dishes 
 was to make a vast difference in Constance Aylmer's 
 life. If Dame Zwaller could only have seen the little 
 measure of time left in which to save all Constance's 
 dreams of earthly happiness, she would have sent
 
 174 CONSTANCE AYLMKII. 
 
 Minxey on the wings of the wind. But there they 
 sat, quietly chatting in the doorway, while Minxey 
 idled at her task and the minutes were oozing away 
 like life-drops ! It is no chance that holds them thus 
 in durance. It is the will of an Almighty Father 
 that joins the insignificant links of circumstance that 
 bind Constance to-day. A bitter cup is preparing, 
 but through it her soul will rise into a nobler life. 
 
 Minxey goes at last, but it is no matter if she goes 
 now. 
 
 Barbara comes in breathless haste, throws her 
 arms around her friend and kisses her, but her face is 
 smileless and troubled. 
 
 " Come with me to Elsie Roosevelt's, will you ? " 
 she whispered, " now quickly ! " 
 
 Constance assented, puzzled very much by her 
 agitation and evident wish not to be overheard. 
 
 " "What is it that troubles you, Barbara ? " she 
 asked, trying to keep pace with her quick steps along 
 the street. 
 
 " I know nothing I fear only. Domine Mega- 
 polensis went there a half hour ago, and I am afraid 
 no, I will not tell you my foolish fears. We will see." 
 
 Could anything have happened to Mordaunt ? 
 Was he very ill again? Perhaps dying; and was it 
 her fault ? 
 
 A few moments' walk brought them tfc Herr 
 Roosevelt's house. The door stood wide open, but no 
 one was visible. It was very quiet there. As the 
 two came nearer, a voice in prayer reached them. 
 Barbara trembled with agitation. She went in for an
 
 CONSTANCE AYOIEE. 175 
 
 instant, then drew back, holding Constance from 
 entering, and said, in a low tone of distress, 
 
 " Too late ! oh, too late ! " 
 
 Constance tore herself away, and went in. There 
 stood Edward Mordaunt and Elsie Roosevelt, jubt 
 united in marriage. She stood speechless with amaze 
 ment. A shock of intense pain went to her heart. 
 She attempted to speak, but her voice refused to obey. 
 She leaned dizzily against the wall, and then, lest she 
 could not sustain herself, sank upon a chair. She 
 looked again at Mordaunt, who, though the Domine 
 was still praying, glanced up at the intruder. He 
 turned his eyes away from the agonized face. 
 
 "Edward, Edward, what have you done?" she 
 cried, regardless of the interruption. Mordaunt drop 
 ped the hand of his bride, and stood white and silent. 
 The Domine ceased his invocation, and turned at the 
 sound of that wailing voice. 
 
 " What is this ? " he questioned sternly. " Is there 
 any reason why I should not have united these two 
 in marriage ? " 
 
 Constance did not know what he said, or to whom 
 he spoke. Her eyes were fastened upon Mordaunt 
 as they might have been if he was dying. She was 
 looking into the grave of their hopes, with nothing 
 beyond it to soothe her despair. The Domine turned 
 almost fiercely to Mordaunt. 
 
 " Is this the reason of your desired secrecy ? I 
 would not have officiated, had I suspected this." 
 There was no reply, but a look of haughty defiance. 
 
 " Herr Koosevelt, will you explain it ? " demanded
 
 176 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 the agitated pastor, pushing back his huge wig and 
 wiping his brow. But the Herr was quite as much 
 astonished as he, and could give no reply. Meantime, 
 Dame Roosevelt, seeing the pallor and the pain in 
 Constance's face, went to offer aid, but she would 
 have none. Summoning her utmost strength, she 
 arose and without a word went away with Barbara, 
 who wept as if her heart would break. When they 
 reached home, Barbara threw herself into her mother's 
 arms, exclaiming, 
 
 " Oh, mother ! Mr. Mordaunt and Elsie are mar 
 ried. He was plighted to Constance. The betrothal 
 would have happened long ago, but for the Lord Di 
 rector keeping him here so long." 
 
 Dame Z waller frowned till her eyebrows met. It 
 was all too sudden to believe. She had long guessed 
 at the betrothal. 
 
 " It cannot be a lawful marriage. They have not 
 been published." 
 
 " Yes," said Barbara, " I knew from Baltazzar 
 that His Highness the Director granted him a license 
 as a high favor, but we believed he was to wed Con 
 stance in haste because of so many long delays." She 
 burst into fresh tears on seeing again how white and 
 unnatural Constance looked, and how strangely- her 
 voice sounded. Dame Zwaller went quickly for a 
 glass of wine, and forbore asking any more questions. 
 Mistress Primley sat in her chair, swaying herself 
 back and forth in miserable uncertainty what to do or 
 say. It was like a thunderbolt out of a clear sky, and 
 it stunned her into silence.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 177 
 
 Poor suffering Constance went restlessly from one 
 place to another, now in this seat, now in that, and 
 now to the doorway to catch the breeze. Dame Zwal- 
 ler would have put her arms around her ; Mistress 
 Primley would have folded her to her bosom, but she 
 was so cold and tearless, so proud in her struggle, that 
 neither could console. 
 
 " You had better lie down and rest," suggested 
 Dame Zwaller, not knowing what else to propose, and 
 seeing her walking to and fro as if her very spirit was 
 striving to escape out of its prison. 
 
 " No" answered Constance in a voice that was 
 not hers, " I am well quite well. I would only that 
 I was in my little chamber at home. Can you not 
 find Sir Henry ? " Her pleading look could not be 
 refused. Barbara sped with the summons herself, and 
 it was not long before he came with great strides up 
 the street. As soon as he saw Constance, he put his 
 arms around her and folded her to his breast, laying 
 his hand soothingly on her head. 
 
 " Dear Constance, he was not worthy of you ! " 
 said he, in a low voice. 
 
 " Will you take me home ? " she entreated, with 
 drawing herself, as if no sympathy could dissolve her 
 to tears. 
 
 " Go home to-night ! " he exclaimed. Then looking 
 steadfastly and troubled at her pallid face, he added, 
 " Ton are not able to journey. "Wait till to-morrow." 
 
 " Impossible ! I must go alone, if you cannot take 
 me. Oh, take me home! " 
 
 " You are a brave girl. You neither faint nor 
 8*
 
 178 CONSTANCE AYLMEIi. 
 
 weep. You should Lave been a Roman maiden. 
 What think yon, Dame Z waller? Can she hear the 
 journey ? " 
 
 " Better to-day than to-morrow," said the good 
 dame. " She will not care to see all the gossipers, 
 who will be at their wits end about this strange af 
 fair." 
 
 " Yery well. I shall be ready in ten minutes," 
 said Sir Henry, placing his hat lightly on the top of 
 his huge periwig. " I wish to pay my respects to the 
 groom and bride a moment,* 5 he added aside to .Dame 
 Zwaller. She looked after him with some fear as to 
 what he might intend, for there was nothing gentle in 
 his face or gait as he went. It did not take much 
 time to reach the Roosevelt's at this pace. The door 
 was still open. The mortified Domine had gone, and 
 Mr. Mordaunt was alone, walking back and forth 
 with his head bowed. He stopped at sight of Sir 
 Henry, and straightened himself defiantly as if expect 
 ing an onset. But Sir Henry approached wearing 
 the blandest of smiles, strangely out of keeping with 
 the fire in his eyes. He bowed profoundly, and with 
 a most cavalierly wave of the hand, said, 
 
 " Permit me to accord to you the highest pinnacle 
 of your profession, since you have so ably outwitted 
 the law and your best friends. Allow me also to oifer 
 you my most profound gratitude for saving my incom 
 parable kinswoman from a life of petty tyranny by 
 the generous sacrifice of yourself to-day ! I beg you 
 will give my heart-felt condolences to Madam Mor 
 daunt. Farewell, sir."
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 179 
 
 Mr. Mordaunt was too confounded by this unex 
 pected address to feel it as keenly at first as after Sir 
 Henry had politely bowed himself out. It rankled as 
 deeply then as his bitterest enemy could have wished.
 
 180 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 XYI. 
 
 IT was late when the travellers reached home. 
 Lady Moody was much alarmed at their unexpect 
 ed return, and not less so at its explanation.- Con 
 stance refused aid, saying she required nothing but 
 rest. The double journey of the day had greatly fa 
 tigued her. She assured her aunt that she would be 
 in her usual spirits the next morning, and would then 
 tell her all that had passed. So earnest was her de 
 sire to be alone, that, after assisting her to undress, 
 Lady Moody left her to the loneliness of her own 
 chamber, and descended to the Library to inquire 
 more particularly of her son of the day's occurrences. 
 
 Once alone, Constance threw herself upon the bed, 
 buried her face deep among the pillows, and gave vent 
 in tearless sobs and moans to the pent-up agony of 
 that endless day. It was as if her heart was clenched 
 in the grasp of a strong hand, which tightened its 
 pressure at every thought of Mordannt, till she cried 
 out in anguish. All the sweet interviews, his tender 
 expressions that had thrilled her, his manly figure, his 
 face, that was as an Apollo's in her loving eyes each 
 came vividly before her with the remembrance that 
 they were hers no longer. She could not recall his 
 faults. He had none now, any more than if he had been 
 her precious dead. But she did recall her own acts 
 that had offended him, magnified them, and reproached
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 181 
 
 herself. She felt certain still that he loved her rather 
 than Elsie, and then came again the remembrance of 
 the great gulf he had h'xed between them. 
 
 "All through this life all through! I wonder 
 how long it will be ! " she moaned, tossing herself 
 about. Then she sprang up, and threw herself upon 
 her knees before the window. The stars were glim 
 mering just as merrily as if her heart was not break 
 ing. She looked into the far space, and reached out 
 her arms, crying, 
 
 " Oh, my mother ! oh, my father ! If I could go 
 to you ! " But the heavens did not open ; the stars 
 glimmered coldly. If the sky had rolled away, and 
 the stars had fallen, it would have offered the relief 
 of terror. Any emotion seemed sweet, compared with 
 this pressure of agony. She understood now how 
 some poor souls were driven to suicide, and pitied 
 them. But she had no thought of such a way of 
 escape for herself; she was only measuring and 
 weighting this heavy burden that she was to carry all 
 her life. She resolved that none should know how 
 heavy it was. The first moments of sharpest suffer 
 ing were over ; perhaps she might conquer the rest. 
 Even now, as she sat there thinking, she felt more 
 composed. She would seek rest, and be stronger to 
 morrow. Thinking thus, she went back to her tent- 
 bed and laid herself down, calm and heavy-eyed, to 
 sleep. It was as if decoyed into a fresh survey of all 
 the charmed past and the dismal future. A smoth 
 ered wailing cry burst from her lips, and she sprang 
 again to her feet, shivering with the intensity of her
 
 182 CONSTANCE AYLMEB. 
 
 emotion. Still she thought to come off conqueror. 
 She summoned all her poor human strength, and 
 quieted herself to rest, only to suffer again those 
 overpowering surges of sorrow. Yet she shed no 
 tears. 
 
 Lady Moody had made no effort to sleep. She 
 talked with Sir Henry till after midnight, then prayed 
 earnestly that this sorrow might not harden the young 
 heart upon which it had fallen, but might turn it 
 heavenward. She went several times to Constance's 
 chamber door, but hearing no sound, returned pleased 
 in the belief that sleep had brought a short respite. 
 At early dawn, however, she heard footsteps upon the 
 floor, and did not hesitate now to enter. 
 
 " Thee has slept a little ? " 
 
 "No; I cannot. Shall I ever sleep again, Aunt 
 Deborah ? " Lady Moody approached, took both hands 
 in hers, and felt them burning with fever. 
 
 " My precious child, this must not be. I thought 
 thee sleeping all these hours," said she. " Why did 
 thee not come to me ? " 
 
 "I would not disturb you, dear aunt. You can 
 not help me. No one can." 
 
 " No one ! " said Lady Moody, with sadness in her 
 tone. . " Thee is looking only to thyself, poor heart, 
 for support. Thy strength will fail thee. Even I am 
 but a bruised reed to lean upon ; but there is One 
 who says, * Come unto me, ye weary and heavy-laden.' 
 He will be thy father, mother, friend. Tell him thy 
 suffering. Go, lean upon his great heart of love." 
 
 " Why did He permit it ? I cannot go to him."
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 183 
 
 " Ah, my beloved child, I do grieve for thee ; for 
 thou art in the furnace. But Christ sits as the refiner, 
 and he will bring thee out purified like molten silver, 
 if thee will but trust him. Trust him, Constance, 
 without asking why." 
 
 Constance did not reply, but laid herself down 
 and closed her eyes. The words soothed her. Lady 
 Moody drew aside the soft folds of the blue drapery, 
 that she might not be shut in wholly to herself, bathed 
 her head and hands with, cool water, and gave her an 
 opiate. She did not go away, but rather busied her 
 self gently about the room, as if to console Constance 
 with 'the cheering presence of one loving human 
 being, now and then telling her something cheery in 
 a dreamy way, in spite of the heavy sighs and tear 
 less sobs that would sometimes overwhelm her. At 
 last, when the sun was high, and the sounds of full 
 day diverted her ear from listening so much to those 
 inner thoughts, she fell asleep. Then came Lady 
 Moody's most anxious hours. She watched near her 
 all that day, caring for her as the most skilful 
 physician could have done, praying for her as only a 
 mother can. 
 
 Constance awoke near evening. She wondered 
 at first why she was there. Then full consciousness 
 came back, and she wished she had not wakened. 
 .Her heart felt so like lead within her ; and there was 
 nothing to wake for. A robin, perched upon a tree 
 near the window, was singing with all its might a 
 rolicking little song. It was harshly out of tune with 
 her soul.
 
 184 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 " Aunt Deborah, I wisli the bird would not sing," 
 said she, plaintively. " Even the sunset glares to 
 night; its shining is doleful. Will it never seem 
 beautiful to me again ? " 
 
 "It is only because thy soul is down in the valley. 
 Thou wilt reach the hill-tops soon, God willing." 
 Lady Moody gently frightened away the innocent 
 bird, and partly closed the heavy shutters while she 
 was speaking. As she turned about, she saw lyano 
 standing in the doorway. His coming never startled 
 her now. It was his habit to come at intervals since 
 his first hearing of the Scriptures, both to listen to its 
 reading and to learn to read it himself. Lady Moody 
 had with great patience taught him the alphabet. 
 She had grown accustomed to his sudden intrusions, 
 and welcomed him gladly now; for might not his 
 presence touch a chord of sympathy that would at 
 least bring the relief of tears to Constance. He re 
 fused to enter, but stood looking wistfully at her. 
 
 " Me no hear the maiden's song. Her feet no find 
 the forest. lyano feel bad." 
 
 She could not but remember Omanee, and his 
 revengeful looks at her loss. The change that had 
 gradually been wrought in him, through this loss, also 
 came to mind as she regarded him. 
 
 " I am glad to see you, lyano," she said. 
 
 " The mother gave poor Indian medicine from the 
 Great Book. Jesus Christ put his hand on lyano's 
 heart, and he no sick anymore. Why no the maiden 
 take the good medicine she gave lyano ? " 
 
 She could make no reply. It had been an easy task
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 185 
 
 to comfort him out of that source of Life, but it was 
 strangely hard to seek the relief for herself. 
 
 ''Me ask Jesus to come see the white maid 
 en ? " 
 
 "Yea, friend, do thon!" said Lady Moody, the 
 tears rolling quickly over her cheeks at the childlike 
 simplicity of his faith. 
 
 The once fierce savage knelt humbly and prayed : 
 
 " O Great Father, me only poor Indian. But 
 svlien me heavy, good Jesus come and lift me up, and 
 say, what for you bow down like bulrush? He love 
 ine, he shine on me, he take away stone and give me 
 new heart. Me no sorry any more. Why no come 
 see white maiden, and make her glad like lyano? 
 Great Father did let one make her sick to die, and 
 now he send Jesus to shine on her and bless her very 
 much. Yes ; Jesus want much to speak to her heart. 
 Tell her no hide her face so she see no shine. Great 
 Manitou ! hear poor Indian prayer, because he love 
 Jesus ! " 
 
 Constance's sympathy was touched. She knew 
 what this humble friend had suffered. She felt her 
 own weakness, and she well knew the strength of the 
 proffered arm. She must lean upon it now, or reject 
 the blessing. She attempted to speak as lyano arose, 
 but her lips trembled, tears that could not be repressed, 
 stole over her cheeks, and she hid her face in the pil 
 low and wept abundantly. What a luxury and a 
 healing ! What a relief to her burning head and 
 aching heart ! 
 
 " Let thy will be mine, O Christ, forever ! Forgive
 
 186 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 me, that I have doubted thy love in this misery. Keep 
 ine as thy child," she murmured. 
 
 lyano went away as quietly as he came. Con 
 stance was left to the stillness of her own chamber, 
 and soon sobbed herself to sleep like a soothed child 
 upon its mother's bosom. 
 
 Several weeks passed before Constance recovered 
 from the languor of a slow fever. Her old elasticity 
 of spirits did not come back with returning health. 
 Her occupations had lost their interest. She wandered 
 about listlessly, looking into books only to shut them 
 with a sigh, taking up her needle only to put it down 
 wearily. Even the garden did not attract her. She 
 had walked too often there with Mordaunt not to be 
 reminded of him, and the seat at the end of the path 
 under the palisades, draped with vines, had too many 
 precious associations for her ever to rest there without 
 tears. Had he not carved his initials here; and, 
 while doing it, said, " You shall not forget me ? '' And 
 was not every word and look of those sweet agitated 
 days graven more deeply on her heart than his name 
 on the rustic posts ? 
 
 " It must not be so," said she to herself one day, 
 after a paroxysm of tears, while shielded among the 
 leaves of this shady retreat. " Have I not said to my 
 Father, ' Let thy will be mine? ' And is it thus I have 
 accepted his appointment of my lot ? No more repin 
 ing, Constance! This place shall no longer remain 
 sacred to that unhappy love. I will no longer shrink 
 from coming hither, but will come till the pain grows 
 dull. And yet, is it meet for me to look on those
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 187 
 
 letters daily, from out of which I conjure his face and 
 hear his voice ?" She sat thoughtful and downcast. 
 Suddenly a new energy possessed her. She arose and 
 went to her aunt, who was occupied in the garden. 
 
 " Can the gardener serve me to-day, Aunt Deb 
 orah?" 
 
 " Truly he may, if it is thy pleasure," she replied. 
 
 "And can I do aught I please with the arbor? " 
 
 "Do with it as if all things here were thine own, 
 my daughter." 
 
 " Thank you, my dear aunt. Lend me your 
 prnn ing-knife, that 1 may first cut away some thorns 
 that pierce me sorely, if I do but look at them." 
 Tears were plainly glistening in her eyes, though she 
 smiled while speaking. She turned back again through 
 the path, reentered the little bower, and in a moment 
 cut the initials smoothly away from the place where 
 they had so long looked out at her from among the 
 leaves. Then she untwisted some of the vines and 
 trailed them across the spot, hiding it altogether. 
 Summoning the gardener, she directed him to place 
 the choicest potted plants near the entrance, made 
 an embankment of grass around the sides, brought 
 fresh moss from the woods to carpet it, old grey 
 lichens for brackets, and a hanging nest to swing from 
 the leafy roof. Then she helped him fashion a rustic 
 stand of her own fanciful devising. Two cuts from a 
 Jog of goodly diameter furnished seats. By night the 
 transformation was complete, and Constance felt hap 
 pier for the change and the day's abundant occupation. 
 Here she intended to bring her work, to entice Aunt
 
 188 COXSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 Deborah into occasional rest, and Sir Henry to read 
 ing aloud his newest books. However it might be, 
 she had succeeded in banishing the " Ghost of Love " 
 from this retreat. 
 
 The next morning, Constance continued her new 
 mode of warfare. She brought out from their hiding- 
 places the treasured letters, an odd glove, a scrap of 
 paper on which Mordaunt had printed her name with 
 his in many fantastic ways, and a host of mementos, 
 such as a loving heart treasures more than gold. All 
 these she burned. " Not without mourning," said she 
 afterward. "They did not writhe more upon the 
 embers, than did my heart within me at sight of their 
 vanishing." Still she persisted. She scanned the 
 books which had passages underscored, or pages sig 
 nalized by a pressed flower or leaf, and carefully erased 
 the whole. She would commune no longer with this 
 haunting shadow. But after it was all done, what 
 then ? Days went by, but the heavy, heavy heart 
 remained. 
 
 " Give me work ! Aunt Deborah, give me work ! 
 anything to escape from my sorrowful self! " she said 
 one morning, bursting into tears. 
 
 " Thee has asked for the best happiness when thy 
 desires go beyond thyself. God bless thee ! Get thy 
 hat, and go with me now to Patience Gordon's hovel." 
 
 Constance went. The sight of a pale, care-worn 
 widow, homesick for her English home, striving to 
 support a flock of little children, awoke feelings of 
 shame and humiliation that she should repine while 
 surrounded with so many blessings. Sympathy and
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 189 
 
 pity filled her heart. She could go home now and 
 take up her needle with active interest in behalf of 
 that suffering woman. It would be such a pleasure 
 to lighten her burdens thus. This was the beginning 
 of a busy life for Constance. She was taking her first 
 lessons in not " living to herself." There was Hihoudi 
 too, the brother of Omanee, who came to learn his 
 letters ; and Hose, the maid of all work, who regarded 
 her young mistress much as a princess in disguise, 
 was eager to read like white people, and not be out 
 done by the dreaded savages. In this way, occupa 
 tions multiplied. Sir Henry exerted himself also to 
 provide cheerful company for Constance. He opened 
 his doors hospitably to new cavaliers or to old friends, 
 devised hunting and boating parties, went with her 
 on horseback or in the chaise, read to her in the arbor ; 
 in fine, left nothing undone for her diversion. Yet, 
 more than once, he had seen her turn away, in the 
 midst of lively companions, to let tears fall unseen ; 
 and though she would return gentle and smiling as 
 ever, he saw her hidden sadness. Twice he had 
 marked her holding her hand against her heart, as if 
 it pained her or throbbed too violently. At last a 
 little incident occurred which broke his silence. 
 
 Hans and Lisbet came to Gravesend on a valorous 
 steed from Herr Zwaller's stable, with cue and ribbons 
 flying, to make a long-promised visit. The evening 
 of their arrival was warm and moonlit, and there was 
 no place so attractive and cool as the settle -bench 
 under the front porch. Hans talked poetry to the 
 moon and cast love-glances at Lisbet, but they were
 
 190 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 lost upon her, for her busy eyes were scanning the 
 fashion of Constance's graceful dress, or Sir Henry's 
 shining shoe-buckles, and her only reply to his quota 
 tions was, that he also should hare a pair of silver 
 buckles. He was charmed with the night sounds of 
 the forest and meadows, but Lisbet said she loved 
 better to talk than to listen to frogs gulping in muddy 
 ponds, or birds peeping in the woods w r hen they ought 
 to be asleep. She seated herself then by Constance, 
 and, in a confidential way, began her usual gossip. 
 
 "Do you know, they say Elsie is not happy with 
 Mr. Mordaunt ? It is quite right for all the mischief 
 she has done. He is almost beside himself with grief, 
 and they say his hair is turning white as his grand 
 father's ! " Constance's face grew paler than the 
 moonlight. She made no reply, but Sir Henry had 
 caught the words, and saw the suffering spirit through 
 the white face. 
 
 "Now, Lisbet," said he, bluntly, "you spun that 
 bit of news out of your head, just as the spider winds 
 its web out of its own body. If you were a man, I 
 would say in plain Saxon, you lie! " 
 
 " My son ! " exclaimed Lady Moody, " thou art 
 not worthy of knighthood to speak in such wise to a 
 woman, and thy guest ! " 
 
 " Lisbet should better consider her words, lest 
 possibly they might sting like arrows. As a woman, 
 and my guest, I humbly crave her pardon. As a 
 gossip I censure her," said Sir Henry, noisily pacing 
 back and forth over the pebbled walk in front of them. 
 
 " I speak what is true," retorted Lisbet. " Carl
 
 CONSTANCE A.YLMER. 191 
 
 Steinbach went out in the ship with them to Virginia, 
 and wrote back that saying." 
 
 " Fie ! Fie ! " cried Sir Henry, impatient at this 
 testimony, which only made the matter worse. Deter 
 mined to check her further words, he called out for 
 Hans, who was climbing by the arbor to the top of the 
 palisades. " He will break his neck, Lisbet, or get 
 scalped if he tumbles over the other side." This 
 brought her to her feet, and sent her into the garden. 
 
 " Stop 1 " called out Hans. " Hark, all of you ; 
 what is it ? " All listened to soft, mournful notes, 
 that swelled up from the depths of the forest. 
 
 "It is the lute of an Indian wooing his pretty 
 squaw," said Sir Henry. 
 
 Constance buried her face in her hands. She had 
 once heard that unearthly music when Morclaunt 
 stood beside her. It recalled all the past, even more 
 vividly than Lisbet's unthinking, cruel words. 
 
 " Oh, Edward ! Edward ! " she moaned, in a sup 
 pressed voice, dropping her hands, as if not knowing 
 where to turn. Sir Henry shouted loudly, 
 
 " Don't listen to that tooting, Lisbet ! it will be 
 witch you ! " Her tongue was unloosed instantly, 
 and she chattered like a magpie, under the palisades, 
 scolding and entreating Hans to come down from his 
 dangerous perch. Constance escaped to her quiet 
 room. The melancholy notes still floated up to her, 
 and tilled her soul with a sense of loneliness unen 
 durable. She bowed her head upon the window-seat, 
 crying out, 
 
 " Oh, Jesus, my Saviour, do thou so take posses-
 
 192 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 sion of my soul that I shall no longer suffer this de 
 spair. My poor resolves are unstable as the waves. 
 Be thou my strength, for I am weak oh, so weak. 
 Do not let my heart question thy tenderness in deal 
 ing thus with me." She raised her head, leaned upon 
 her hand, and thought aloud. " If Edward was happy 
 with Elsie, it would be less hard to bear; but he 
 grieves as I grieve. It is both sweet and bitter to 
 know this. My heart, my heart, how it rolls and 
 heaves within me." Faint with the violent palpita 
 tion, she unfastened her dress, rose feebly, dipped her 
 hands in cool water and bathed her face, then sank 
 back into the deep arm-chair. 
 
 " Why do I strive to arrest this ? why not die ? 
 I would not live, yet when I feel my hold upon life 
 loosing a little, I struggle to retain it. Strange con 
 tradiction ! " 
 
 There was a rustling on the stairs, two little feet 
 pit-patted across the hall, and a trim little figure 
 stood tapping at Constance's open door. Lisbet was 
 as irresistibly drawn to every event as the needle to 
 the pole. It was impossible for her not to discover 
 the absence of Constance, and just as impossible 'not 
 to know the mischief she had done. Nobody in the 
 world could be more sorry than she. She endeavored 
 to repair it with kind words, with cologne and hot 
 cordials, but Constance's pride and annoyance at 
 being discovered enabled her to rally quickly, to put 
 on a cheerful air, to descend again to the piazza, and 
 even to smile at Hans' droll account of his school. 
 
 That night, when they separated for rest, Sir
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEB. 193 
 
 Henry drew his mother aside, and held a long con 
 versation about Constance's welfare. Lady Moody 
 assured him that time alone would lessen, her grief, 
 and that constant occupation and interest in others 
 were the best restorers of a healthy tone of mind and 
 body. Above all, she was sustained by a trust which 
 would presently give her entire peace and calmness. 
 
 " She will die under these slow processes,*' replied 
 Sir Henry impatiently. " She must have change of 
 scene. These people whom I would have only to 
 amuse her, do but recall the past, and stab her with 
 their silly words. The very flowers and birds fling 
 doleful memories at her, and the great white oak on 
 the highway is no better than a tombstone in her 
 eyes. She must go to England." 
 
 " To whom can she go in England ? " exclaimed 
 Lady Moody, stirred at the thought of losing Con 
 stance. 
 
 " To her rightful guardian and kinsman, Lord 
 Grey." 
 
 " Her father would not have it so. His sister is 
 a church woman and a royalist, and lives gayly in 
 London. Thee would not give our beloved Con 
 stance to such worldly keeping." 
 
 " Only for a short season ; I will go thither myself, 
 and convey her safely, and she shall return with me, 
 if she wills it." Lady Moody could raise no objec 
 tion to this proposal, and promised to lay the plan 
 before Constance the next morning;.
 
 194 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 XY1I. 
 
 HANS and Lisbet had just gone, the next morning, 
 when Ijano stole into the garden, and stood in sig 
 nificant silence beside Lady Moody till she finished 
 gathering a handful of flowers. Then he spoke a few 
 words, and went immediately away. Lady Moody 
 looked alarmed. All thoughts of the proposed voyage 
 vanished, and she sent hastily for Sir Henry to come 
 to her in the Library. 
 
 ' : lyano tells me the Masapequas are preparing for 
 an attack," said she. " Go quickly to George Baxter, 
 and give intelligence. See that he sends out scouts 
 to call in the scattered settlers, or prepare them for 
 defence. Thee must not return till thine own eyes 
 certity that every needful thing is done." 
 
 " What impudent vipers ! " exclaimed Sir Henry. 
 " Only two days ago a band of them came in to 
 traffic, and, I doubt not, have well scanned the town. 
 But half the battle is won, in being prepared for the 
 cowardly dogs." 
 
 " I trusted the Masapequas were friends," said 
 Lady Moody. " Some one has done them ill, else 
 they would not break the peace. Do not tarry, my 
 son ; every hour lost may cost the lives of a family." 
 
 Sir Henry hurried away to the magistrate, leaving 
 his mother to care for his own home. She immedi 
 ately summoned the servants, and stated to them in
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 195 
 
 so cheerful and calm a manner, what she required of 
 each, that they obeyed with far less trepidation than 
 might have been expected. Tobee gathered the cattle 
 from the pastures, and put them safely in their en 
 closures. Lady Moody went herself with Mingo to 
 examine every part of the palisades, to be certain of 
 their soundness, and ordered tanks of water to be 
 placed for convenient use, in case of the enemy's re 
 sort to fire. The shutters were closed and bolted ; 
 firearms and ammunition were brought into the hall 
 and stacked. Before night those settlers who did not 
 feel secure in their own houses, came with their val 
 uables to Moody Hall, as being safer on account of 
 its tiled roof. Some of the villagers came also, fearing 
 to trust to the security of the palisades that enclosed 
 the village. Others outside had failed to build their 
 own, or had neglected to provide themselves with 
 ladders to their roofs, as required by law. Lady 
 Moody received them all with open arms, though re 
 minding them they were every one like the foolish 
 virgins without oil in their lamps. 
 
 By night preparations were everywhere comple 
 ted, and sentinels posted about the village. All wait 
 ed with nervous anxiety for what the night might 
 bring forth, yet not without hope that the timely 
 warning would ward off the blow. 
 
 Meantime, lyano decked himself as became a 
 chieftain ; a long eagle's feather shot up from his 
 shell-worked frontlet. From his waist hung dressed 
 
 o 
 
 deer-skin, embroidered and fringed. A string, of 
 wampum and an English hatchet were fastened at
 
 196 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 liis girdle ; a quiver, from which dangled a fox's tail, 
 was slung across his shoulder, and he carried an 
 elastic bow, of dimensions that suggested a strong arm 
 in battle. Thus equipped, he set out for the enemy's 
 camp : as he approached, the howlings of the war- 
 dance struck his ear. He surveyed the various groups 
 from a leafy covert till satisfied, and then stalked forth 
 into their midst, and stood in dignified silence. No 
 regard was paid to the intruder at first. Some young 
 warriors approached, but he scorned to confer with 
 them. One tall, athletic Indian, whose features be 
 lied his disguise, looked fiercely upon him, but he 
 was unmoved at the hostile menace ; he still leaned 
 indifferently on his huge bow, awaiting the pleasure 
 of the chiefs to learn his mission. 
 
 Gradually the war-dance ceased ; the chiefs and 
 warriors withdrew to the council-lodge, and at length 
 signified their readiness to hear him. As if to give 
 time for the subsidence of the evil passions raised by 
 the ceremonies of war, a long silence reigned. lyano 
 at last arose. 
 
 "My brothers, lyano has not two tongues. He 
 knows the Masapequas are brave. Many scalps have 
 hung in the belts of the young warriors. But what does 
 lyano see ! Do the braves go to fight great warriors ? 
 No, they go to kill squaws. The Englis you would kill 
 do not carry thunder in their arms like the Englis of 
 the Manhattas. No sachem sits in their council-lodge. 
 The mother of the Englis sits there. She brings words 
 from the Great Spirit. The God of the Englis will 
 be angry if she is slain. He has sent lyano to say it."
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 197 
 
 lyano was silent for a few moments. He glanced 
 over the swarthy host as if to fix every wandering eye, 
 then broke forth with a fierceness that would have 
 appalled Lady Moody, and made her doubt if indeed 
 her pupil had felt the renewing power of the Holy 
 Spirit. But the force of association and the glower 
 ing face that had been turned upon him since his first 
 coming roused all his savage nature, and overshadow 
 ed the restraining precepts which his gentle friend 
 had striven to bind as frontlets on his brow. 
 
 " It is the Evil-minded who has told the Masape- 
 qua braves to destroy the lodge of the good mother," 
 said he. " Listen to lyano. Eight moons ago, the 
 White Swallow was in the lodge of her father ; her eyes 
 were as stars ; her feet like the roe's ; they were swift 
 to obey the voice of the chief. A serpent crept in the 
 forest and charmed the White Swallow. She followed 
 him to the canoe that flies upon the water. The Great 
 Spirit was angry. He sent her back in the arms of 
 the waves. The stars are gone out. The White Swallow 
 sleeps. The lodge is dark. The serpent is coiled by 
 your council-fires. You take him to your heart. He 
 is your son and your brother." 
 
 lyano's voice and manner conveyed the utmost 
 scorn. He paused amidst profound silence. Every war 
 rior knew whom he meant, though not one looked 
 toward the adopted pale-face Lord Percy, who, es 
 caped from an ocean grave, had taken refuge here. 
 He did not cower before lyano at his betrayal, but 
 continued to fix his tiger-like eyes upon him, boldly 
 waiting to know the end. lyano resumed :
 
 198 COXSTANCJB AYLMER, 
 
 " This brave chief has a trophy in his belt. Is it 
 a scalp ? No. It is. the white wings of the sleeping 
 Swallow. Now he speaks. ' Let us slay the Englis ! ' 
 Will he find scalps like the braves ? No. There is a 
 maiden pale and shining as the moon in the lodge of 
 the mother of the Englis. The serpent would have her 
 wings by the side of the White Swallow's. Will you 
 follow him ? Go ! The nations will call you the 
 slayers of squaws. lyauo is done." 
 
 He turned away Irom his silent auditors without 
 waiting for a response, and disappeared in the woods. 
 He disdained to linger in the council, but patiently 
 watched with his scouts to know the result of his ap 
 peal. The discovery that Percy still lived, and the 
 challenge in his fiery eyes and haughty mien, had 
 aroused a storm of passion which hungered for an op 
 portunity to vent itself. The intended attack upon 
 Gravesend would aiford it, and as night after night 
 passed with no signs of a moving enemy, lyano grew 
 sullen. He had defeated himself as well as Percy, 
 but he resolved to follow him and obtain revenge. 
 Life for life. He should die for Omanee. 
 
 An Indian runner came at last with the news of a 
 skirmish between the Masapequas and a band toward 
 the east. Assured by this of the safety of Graves- 
 end, lyano went with slow steps to convey tidings of 
 relief to Moody Hall. 
 
 All this time the villagers had suffered the misery 
 of suspense. False alarms had twice filled them with 
 terror, and given occasion to distinguish the cowardly 
 from the brave. A sentinel, who had abandoned his
 
 COXSTANCE A YLMEE. 199 
 
 post and hidden himself, was now doing duty in the 
 public square on a wooden horse, with a sword in one 
 hand and a pitcher of beer in the other, to denote 
 that his courage was to be determined by the quantity 
 drank. Some, doubting lyano's truth, returned to 
 their usual work, but not without loaded arms within 
 reach. The villagers who had taken refuge at Moody 
 Hall, seeing how multiplied were Lady Moody's cares, 
 went back to their own homes and tried to quiet their 
 fears, but those who had come in from scattered farms 
 remained till lyano's arrival. 
 
 The family were filled with new anxiety when 
 Percy was known to be the plotter of the intended 
 mischief. Although he had failed in this, what new 
 plans might he not invent ? He would scruple at 
 nothing. Measures must be taken promptly to arrest 
 him. During this discussion, lyano's eyes glimmered 
 so darkly and savagely that Lady Moody noted it. She 
 attempted to draw from him the cause of the change 
 in his countenance and manner since his last visit, but 
 he was too morose and cunning to commit himself. He 
 disliked to be questioned. He was in haste to depart. 
 The more she regarded him, the more certain she be 
 came that he had either already harmed Percy or in 
 tended it. She knew enough of his savage code to 
 believe that justice awarded by law would not satisfy ; 
 nothing but the blood of his enemy poured out by his 
 own hand would appease him. As she thought of this, 
 she remembered also that in her desire to inspire him 
 with faith in the redeeming love of the Saviour, she 
 had tailed to impress him with the need of a forgiving
 
 200 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 spirit toward men. He was not prepared for tempta 
 tion. This opportunity to enforce a hard and hated 
 truth must not be lost. 
 
 " Friend lyano," said she, " I perceive thy unwill 
 ingness to tell me what is in thy heart. Thee would 
 fear to tell it to God. But thee cannot hide thy se 
 cret from him." lyano turned to go. He had no 
 desire to listen to his teacher. 
 
 " Stay, friend, till the Book holds a talk with 
 thee." There was a power in her presence which he 
 could not resist. He obeyed with sullen dignity. 
 
 "Thou hast done me a great service, lyano. 1 
 cannot return thee a better, than to he faithful to thy 
 soul." Saying this, she took from its shelf the great 
 Bible with its iron clasp, and turning the thick 
 leaves hither and thither for various passages, read in 
 a slow, distinct voice. 
 
 " This is God's command : ' Thou shalt not kill.' 
 If the commandment is broken, this is the punish 
 ment : ' Murderers * * shall have their part in the 
 lake which bumeth with fire and brimstone ; which is 
 the second death.' lyano, thee must not dip thy hand 
 in the blood of Edgardo Percy, to repay thy wrongs. 
 Thee must leave that to God. Hear what he says : 
 ' Yengeance is mine ; I will repay, saith the Lord. ' ; 
 
 " lyano has waited. Your God is asleep. The 
 pale-face is yet free." 
 
 " Thou art wrong, friend. Our Father never 
 sleeps, hut he waits. Listen again. ' To me belong- 
 eth vengeance and recompense ; their foot shall slide 
 in due time.' The Almighty does not make haste to
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 201 
 
 cut off the wicked. He is ' long-suffering to usward, 
 not willing that any should perish, but that all should 
 come to repentance.' Perhaps the Lord is waiting for 
 Edgardo to repent. How does thee know, friend, but 
 thine enemy may hear the voice of God, and receive 
 mercy and forgiveness like thyself ? " 
 
 This was a new thought to lyano. He regarded 
 Lady Moody with a strange, unsatisfied look, and 
 doubtless marvelled in his heart, just as the disciples 
 did when they heard a hard saying from the lips of 
 their Lord. Constance, who had been a "silent lis 
 tener, wondered if a heart so full of evil intents could 
 make room for Christ. " I should be filled with fear 
 at the sight of Percy, even in heaven," she said. 
 
 " ' Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be 
 white as snow ; though they be red like crimson, they 
 shall be as wool.' If Edgardo's sins were washed white 
 in the blood of the Lamb, he would be no longer 
 what he is, and therefore thee would rejoice to meet 
 him. lyano, if it please the High God to draw out 
 his days and pardon him, thee can forgive also, and 
 not use despite ? " 
 
 " lyano waits to see the white chief die," was the 
 stony reply. 
 
 " Then thes must wait the pleasure of the Lord. 
 All thee has to do in this matter is to forgive him 
 with all thy heart. Jesus says, ' Love your enemies, 
 bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate 
 you, and pray for them which despiteful ly use you, and 
 persecute you; that ye may be the children of your 
 Father which is in heaven.' r 
 9*
 
 202 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 " The brave no love his enemy. He would have 
 a squaw's heart." 
 
 "Satan tells thee that, friend. Thee roust rather 
 listen to Jesus. Hear how he would have thee use 
 Edgardo. ' If thine enemy be hungry, feed him ; if he 
 be thirsty, give him drink ; for in so doing thou shalt 
 heap coals of fire upon his head.' 51 
 
 This was too much for lyano to receive stoically. 
 He gave an ejaculation of dissent and disgust. He 
 could not now meekly lay down his burden of ven 
 geance. Like many another, he wished to roll this 
 sweet morsel of sin under his tongue while he walked 
 with Christ. Lady Moody felt that it was a crisis 
 which might determine the triumph or the abandon 
 ment of his new-found faith. 
 
 " lyano, I have but these words more to say to 
 thee now. If thee does not forgive thy enemy, God 
 will not forgive thee. Ask Jesus to help thee, or thou 
 wilt perish." She closed the Book, and replaced it on 
 the shelf. lyano, understanding that the " talk " was 
 done, went away, glad perhaps to escape from the 
 dazzling light which this strange Book was pom-ing 
 in upon his soul, revealing his unholy self. But the 
 shining was there, and he could not put it out.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 203 
 
 XVIII, 
 
 ELSIE MORDAUNT Lad neither the tine house " all 
 of Holland brick," nor the "chairs with seats of bright 
 russet leather bordered with gold lace," which she 
 had once gayly said must be placed at her service, to 
 gether with her lover's heart. Her air-castle had re 
 solved itself into a simple cottage without external or 
 nament, save a wild rose that had tried in vain to clam 
 ber without help up the side of the house, and had 
 fallen back in sprawling helplessness on the uncut 
 grass. The spinster, in whose charge Edward Mor- 
 daunt had left his bachelor domicile during his long 
 absence, would have let it creep through the grass till 
 it dragged itself back to its native woods if it chose, 
 provided it kept out of her way. Experience Top 
 ping understood the use and value of a hop-vine, but 
 a rose-creeper had no claims upon her. 
 
 Within the cottage, as without, there was no orna 
 ment. It was neat enough. Experience was devoted 
 to the care of it. She was one of those methodical 
 people who have a place for everything, and religious 
 ly send everything into place. She was a close econ 
 omist too. She never walked over a pin. A bit of 
 thread was not beneath her notice and use, scraps of 
 lint slowly accumulated in a corner bag, and every 
 garment she wore testified to her patient patching and 
 darning. Her skill in converting apple-peelings into
 
 204 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 jellj, bread-crumbs into puddings, and making soup 
 from bare bones, was marvellous. Yet she was a re 
 ligious, not a miserly economist. She Avas conscien 
 tious in her stewardship, rendering exact accounts to 
 her employer, and what she saved by her self-denials 
 was freely bestowed upon the comfort of others. Her 
 gifts were necessarily small, and her sphere narrow. 
 Their very srnallness gave rigidity to her thoughts and 
 ways. The incoming of a new mistress like Elsie was 
 a shock to all her notions and habits, and no wonder 
 if she stood dismayed at the revolution in the affairs 
 of the house on her arrival. 
 
 " Take away the joint-stools from the chimney-cor 
 ner, and fill the gaping fireplace with holly branches. 
 It looks like the grave of departed Yule-logs," said 
 Elsie, frowning, when she had surveyed the chief 
 apartment. " I will have silk hangings too, and not 
 chintz." 
 
 Mordaunt was besieged for the alterations, and 
 yielded. During a few weeks, every room was in a 
 turmoil. No sooner was one at the point of comple 
 tion than Elsie would suggest something new, pull 
 down all she had done, and begin over again. To do 
 this, she levied all the forces possible. She possessed 
 the peculiar talent of impressing everybody who came 
 near, into her service, and keeping every soul of them 
 in nervous haste with their task. The task given was 
 not often rightly appointed. She was quite sure to 
 cut the tapestry too short, and summon her helper to 
 take it down and lengthen it, or order a dresser 
 too large for its place, and refuse to accept its clumsi-
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 205 
 
 ness. After an apartment was duly settled, she was 
 quite likely to feel its narrowness, and conceive the 
 bright idea of tearing down a partition, or building an 
 " addition." But it could not take forever to com 
 plete so small a dwelling. To keep it in order when 
 iinished, was quite another affair. For this, Elsie had 
 no talent. She left it to Experience, and turned her 
 energies to the entire remaking of the garden. And 
 poor Experience strove in vain to keep the chairs in 
 prim rows, sighed to see Mordaunt's costly books ly 
 ing upon the floor precisely where Elsie had dropped 
 them, or stood amazejd to see her dresses tumbled on 
 the chair, and her pretty boots flung across the room 
 when they had happened to pinch. And who can 
 imagine Experience's horror at seeing Elsie's spools 
 of thread rolling hither and thither at the mercy of a 
 playful kitten, or wound inextricably with tangled 
 yarn, when she had stooped her lame back many a 
 time to save a bit a few inches long ? What could 
 she do but grumble, and look after this spoiled child ? 
 
 When Elsie had exhausted the garden and the 
 temper of the gardener, she took a capricious whim 
 to invade Experience's kingdom. 
 
 " Did you ever taste an oly-koek ? " she asked, 
 one day. 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Then I will make some this minute ! " 
 
 " Not to-day," plead Experience. " I cannot 
 serve you well to-day." 
 
 "But I feel precisely like it," returned Elsie. It 
 was not possible to turn her from what she chose to
 
 206 CONSTAXCE AYLMEK. 
 
 undertake. So, in spite of the warm day, she caused 
 a notable fire to be built and a kettle of fat to be 
 swung on the crane. Without first bringing together 
 all the articles needed, she began mixing the dough. 
 
 " Uh ! how shall I get my hands out of this ? Get 
 some flour ; do ! " Experience brought it, smiling 
 significantly. 
 
 " There ! I have forgotten the salt, Pray get it." 
 
 " Oh, Experience, the spice ! the spice ! "Where 
 is it?" 
 
 " Not a grain in the house, mistress. And not a 
 grain can you buy till the Dutch skipper comes up the 
 river again." 
 
 " Ah well. I cannot wait till the skipper comes. 
 I shall make the oly-koeks just the same, though 
 they will never be oly-koeks without spice." By this 
 time Elsie was well dusted with flour. Flour was 
 over the table, and flour on the floor. She was too busy 
 to perceive the burning of the waiting fat, and Expe 
 rience was too provoked to hinder its spoiling. 
 
 " Take it off, Experience. Quick ! " cried Elsie. 
 
 " Let the olys go. I have had enough already," 
 grumbled the spinster while she marshalled forth the 
 crane. Elsie, still bent on the work, dropped the 
 cakes into the kettle, and stood watching them roll 
 and tumble, and finally settle at the top in a benign 
 sputter. 
 
 " Run for a fork, Experience. I must turn them." 
 The fork was sullenly given. 
 
 " Do bring a pan ! They are burning black ! " 
 cried Elsie, at the top of her voice. And thus, till the
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 207 
 
 last cake crowned the dish, she kept Experience in 
 active service, and in a state of mind not at all to be 
 desired. 
 
 " These are costly cakes, " Experience indignantly 
 remonstrated when the hub-bub was over. " They 
 have wasted more wood and flour than would have 
 served to cook a feast. How many grains of wheat 
 did it take to make the flour lying under your feet 
 and upon your clothes ? " 
 
 " Fie ! What of an armful of wood, or a cup or 
 two of flour ? I can never worry my brains with 
 saving scraps. Do you save, if you like." 
 
 " But a cup of flour and an armful of wood every 
 day would almost keep poor Annice Hart through 
 next winter," replied Experience, with warmth. 
 
 Who was Annice Hart, and what did she need, 
 why did she need, and why should she not have all 
 she wanted, were the questions that followed. Elsie 
 immediately made large promises which she doubtless 
 intended to perform, but beyond one gift of flour and 
 wood they were never fulfilled. Her limited purse 
 was always preengaged for fine boots ordered from 
 Holland, or had been emptied into the palm of the 
 last pedlar. She could not forego a costly kerchief, a 
 new bodice, or a dazzling brooch ; at each pleading for 
 help, she graciously promised herself and Annice Hart 
 that another time she could better afford to be generous. 
 
 Mordaunt indulged all her whims and extrava 
 gances, but he paid her none of the pretty compli 
 ments that used to come so readily to his lips when 
 she sat by him in his invalid hours. His eyes rarely
 
 208 CONSTANCE ATLMEE. 
 
 rested upon her face. She was piqued and indifferent 
 by turns, yet so long as he granted all her wishes she 
 did not take it to heart seriously. Her life was too 
 outward to permit even a doubt of her husband's love 
 to stir her very deeply. She knew little of his inner 
 life, nothing of his business, nothing of his ambitions 
 or disappointments. He had no wish to intrust her 
 with the knowledge. Sometimes, when in perplexity, 
 his thoughts reverted to Constance. Had she stood 
 at his side, her advice and sympathy would have been 
 sought. Had she sat near while he pored over a book, 
 he would have shared its thoughts with her. Not so 
 with Elsie. She yawned at the sight of a book, and 
 was very likely, in the midst of a proposed busi 
 ness plan, to scream with laughter at the gambols of 
 the mischievous kitten, and go springing after it all 
 the way into the garden. Then Mordaunt would 
 fold up his papers and go away, sadly thinking of the 
 incompleteness of his life, the void that his w T ife could 
 never fill, the rich sympathy and love that might have 
 been his if he had willed it ; the adviser, the friend, 
 the consoler, that he had madly thrust away. These 
 thoughts never found voice, but they were written 
 upon his face in plainer lines each miserable day. 
 Elsie could not but perceive it, and one evening, after 
 watching his clouded face as he sat busily writing, 
 she reminded him of it. 
 
 " You have never looked the same, Edward, since 
 Constance Aylmer stood at the door on our wedding 
 day. If you loved her, why did you not make her 
 your wife ? "
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 209 
 
 " If I had not wished you to become my wife, I 
 should not have asked you. A husband is not expect 
 ed always to carry himself like a lover." To hide his 
 emotion at the sudden mention of that prohibited 
 name, Mordaunt spoke sternly. Elsie patted the floor 
 with her little foot in vexation at the reply, and was 
 silent. She sat looking at him again critically. Her 
 eye rested upon the mass of hair that partly shaded 
 his face as he leaned over the table. 
 
 "Edward," she exclaimed, "how gray your hair 
 is ! There was not a silver line in it when we were 
 married. It grows whiter every day. How very 
 strange ! " 
 
 " I am growing old, I doubt not," he replied, with 
 out looking up. 
 
 "People do not grow old so fast. You are not 
 old ; you are not yet thirty." 
 
 "My grandfather may have been silver-headed at 
 thirty, and the peculiarity have fallen to me," he sug 
 gested, with a calm sad smile. 
 
 " Ah me ! Has that anything to do with it ? I am 
 glad my mother's hair is yellow yet ever} 7 thread of 
 it ; and my father's is jetty black. I shall not keep 
 you company, you see." 
 
 " Yet your braids might bleach in a single night." 
 
 " How ? " asked Elsie, leaning forward in surprise. 
 
 " Grief! " 
 
 "Edward, is that the reason your hair is whiten- 
 iug ? " Her eyes were fixed earnestly upon him. He 
 felt them. He did not wish her to know the silent 
 anguish he had endured from the moment he had
 
 210 CONSTANCE AYLMEU. 
 
 fixed his destiny apart from Constance Aylmer. He 
 replied, with a careless air, 
 
 " You have forgotten my grandfather. Sorrow 
 might bleach a woman's hair even white. A man 
 should "be too steel-hearted to let grief creep to the 
 very tips of his locks. You must not boast, for you 
 may yet outstrip me in growing old." 
 
 " I shall never spoil my hair or my eyes with grief. 
 You used to praise both. You leave others to praise 
 them now," said Elsie, pettishly. 
 
 " Who praises my wife ? " asked Mordaunt. 
 
 " A gay cavalier in steel corslet, trunk hose, long 
 boots, high-crowned beaver, and drooping feather," 
 said Elsie, a bright smile breaking over her face. 
 
 " Chevalier Morton ? " 
 
 " Yes. How I frightened him ! " and she laughed 
 gayly at the remembrance. Mordaunt's curiosity was 
 awakened, and perhaps the faintest suggestion of 
 jealousy moved him to question further. 
 
 " He was with our berrying party last week," she 
 continued. " I sat warm and tired upon a mossy log, 
 and he beside me, fanning me with a great leaf. He 
 suddenly took my hand in his, and praised my eyes. 
 ' Leave my hand,' I cried out, ' it belongs to my hus 
 band ! ' In spite of his brave-looking corslet, he 
 blushed red as a maiden with shame and vexation, 
 lest the rest heard me." 
 
 "What further said he ? " asked Mordaunt, flushed 
 with anger. 
 
 " That ' he might better clasp a thorn-bush than 
 my hand.' "
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 211 
 
 " What more 3 " 
 
 "Nothing. I fled away, laughing at him." 
 
 " But you should not have laughed. Ton should 
 have been angry." 
 
 " How could I help laughing at his rueful looks ? 
 You should have seen the wight in his corslet, and 
 with his brave sword dangling, and how ill they be 
 came his frightened and astonished looks. I laugh now 
 at the very remembrance." 
 
 "Have you seen him since that day?" said Mor- 
 daunt, rising and walking uneasily back and forth. 
 
 "Bo. But to-day came his little negro with a 
 boquet of pretty wild-flowers, and 'massa's compli 
 ments.' ' : 
 
 " Where are they ? " demanded Mordaunt, looking 
 angrily about the room. Elsie sprang to her feet, 
 clapped her hands, and laughed till she could hardly 
 speak. 
 
 " I frightened the black sprite almost out of his 
 wits. He had only left the gate, when I flung the 
 flowers so hard after him that they struck his indolent 
 heels. He turned the whites of his eyes full upon me, 
 snatched the flowers out of the dust, and ran as if he 
 believed me a wicked witch." Mordaunt could not 
 help smiling. 
 
 " I doubt not you. have quieted Chevalier Morton's 
 gallantry, but do not trifle with those gay birds. 
 Neither would I have you venture again for berries. 
 The woods are never safe from prowling Indians," said 
 Mordaunt. Elsie was full of vivacity and playfulness 
 this evening, and the new thought of her suffering a
 
 212 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 hateful captivity, or the possibility of her love ever 
 being won from him by the cunning arts of an 
 admirer, awakened a tenderness toward her which he 
 had not felt before. She had proved a true wife, in 
 spite of his coldness and the wandering of his own 
 heart. Yet without a single reproach for himself, he 
 accepted her love and instituted a jealous watchfulness 
 over it, that diverted his thoughts from Constance, and 
 conduced to his own happiness, if not to Elsie's.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 213 
 
 XIX. 
 
 ALL thoughts of the voyage to England were dis 
 missed, after the threatened attack of the Masapequas. 
 Sir Henry had not mentioned the subject to Constance, 
 but in his own mind he postponed it only till the next 
 season, when he trusted a better administration of 
 government, and the increased strength of the colony, 
 would allay all fears of the Indians. A proposal of a 
 different nature was made to Lady Moody a few weeks 
 afterward, which for some reasons met her approbation. 
 George Baxter, an esteemed citizen and former magis 
 trate, conferred with her upon the possibility of obtain 
 ing Constance's hand in marriage. He had served 
 as secretary under Governor Keith, and acted as 
 magistrate of Gravesend, till removed by the present 
 Director for the bluutness of his criticisms on the 
 administration. His abilities and learning gave him 
 weighty influence. The countenance of this Quaker 
 politician was pleasing, though slightly rayed with 
 wrinkles. The plain adjustment of his hair perhaps 
 added to his age, when compared with the bushy curls 
 which mounted the head of the baronet. His costume 
 too, deprived of the ribbons, laces, buttons, and jewels 
 which entered so largely into the dress of the cavaliers 
 of the day, suggested more staidness than he really pos 
 sessed. This did not lessen him in the esteem of Lady 
 Moody ; and further, she regarded his sterling charac-
 
 214 OOXSTANCE ATLMER. 
 
 ter, influential position, and easy means, as both 
 desirable and suitable in the proposed alliance. In 
 her desire to secure a protector, to retain Constance 
 near, and to avoid for her the temptations of a frivo 
 lous life in London, sbe forgot the wants of a deep and 
 loving nature, and the abhorrence Constance might 
 feel at a business disposal of her heart, which had so 
 lately learned, with painful acuteness, the height and 
 depth of love t Lady Moody had the wisdom to advise 
 Friend Baxter to wait patiently, and not spoil his suit 
 by too hastily pressing it. In the meantime, she 
 endeavored to prepare the way. 
 
 " Will thee go with me to meeting ? " she asked, 
 one sunny Sabbath. There was no house of worship 
 in Gravesend, but the Quakers met at private dwell 
 ings, and occupied the hours in religious reading. 
 Constance was often present. This brilliant autumn 
 day she was not tempted to go. 
 
 "Will thee not go?" 
 
 "Not to-day. My dress displeases those plain 
 people. I am loath to annoy them." 
 
 " Why does thee think it ? None have complained 
 of its unfitness." 
 
 " Last Lord's day, Mr. Baxter watched the long 
 feather in my hat, till I was almost constrained to pull 
 it out. I feared every moment he would reprove me 
 aloud, and I drew back behind Mary Tilton ; but she,' 
 unwilling to sit before me, moved herself away, so that 
 I was covered with confusion at being unable to hide 
 my offending hat." 
 
 " Art thou quite sure he was looking at thy feath-
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 215 
 
 er, and not at thyself? " queried Lady Moody, with 
 a smile so full of meaning that Constance's color was 
 visibly heightened. 
 
 " Why should he look at me ? He is fatherly in 
 his kindness, and I feared would be too fatherly in 
 his reproof." 
 
 " I do not think he intended to rebuke thee. J 
 have heard him say he admired the excellent beauty 
 of thy character, and holds thee an example for all the 
 young people of the Manhattas." 
 
 " Mr. Baxter does not know me at all to say it. 
 Neither do I like the saying, for it is an unpleasing 
 constraint to hold me an example to any," she replied, 
 with much warmth. Lady Moody did not think it 
 prudent to approach the subject nearer, but a few 
 days later ventured to express her wishes and plans. 
 Constance was occupied in arranging a deep fall of 
 lace upon a dress. She consulted her aunt as to the 
 placing of it. 
 
 " Why does thee put so much fine lace upon thy 
 dress, when it is pleasing without ? " asked Aunt Deb 
 orah. 
 
 " Because the lace lends ease to the stiff stoma 
 cher. It finishes the sleeves gracefully too. Do you 
 not see how soft and hazy are the cuffs, and how un 
 comely the sleeves would be, without them ? " 
 
 " I see thy love for these luxurious belongings, but 
 would thee not be willing to lay them aside, if one 
 who loved thee desired it 2 " 
 
 " If it pains you to see me decked thus, I will lay 
 aside the lace, dear Aunt Deborah. You never chided
 
 216 CONSTANCE Al'LlIER. 
 
 me before for the wearing of it," said Constance, much 
 surprised. 
 
 " But if another desired to see thee wear plain 
 apparel ? " 
 
 "Who, my dear aunt?" replied Constance, still 
 more perplexed. 
 
 " Suppose thy suitor a Quaker." 
 
 u You suppose an impossibility," was the laughing 
 reply. " My high-heeled shoes, my trains, my huge fan, 
 the brooches, bodkins, and jewels would frighten a 
 soberminded Friend." 
 
 " They have not frighted George Baxter. He de 
 sires thy hand. Doubtless, seeing thy good sense, he 
 believes thee able to loose thyself easily from the bonds 
 of court fashions." 
 
 The elegant dress and costly lace fell from Con 
 stance's hand. She looked ready to cry, and ready to 
 laugh. At length she gave indignant voice to her 
 thoughts. 
 
 " Why does he not choose a wife whose age and 
 opinions approach his ? Tell him never to breathe the 
 thought to me ! " 
 
 " Thou knowest George Baxter is a citizen not to 
 be despised. He is a noble-hearted man, and I think 
 could make thee very hapyjy." 
 
 " If he were Prince William, I should refuse his 
 suit. I can never marry never ! never ! " Con 
 stance could not trust her voice to say more, and took 
 up the fallen dress, bending her head low to hide the 
 dropping tears. 
 
 " Do not be hasty in thy decision. I would al-
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 217 
 
 ways have tbee with me, but the day may soon come 
 when I shall be removed hence, and it would be sore 
 distress to leave thee in charge of thy London kins 
 man." 
 
 Whatever more Lady Moody would have added 
 in Friend Baxter's behalf, was cut short by a sum 
 mons from Eose, who said lyano waited without, and 
 would not be refused. A sick man was in his lodge 
 and needed help. Such calls were in the ordinary 
 routine of her duties. But it was unusual to go so 
 far as the Indian encampment, and she sent for Sir 
 Henry to accompany her. After preparing a basket 
 of such articles as might be needed, they set out on 
 horseback, following a narrow trail through the woods 
 for two or three miles, then emerged upon the broad 
 open space where the Indian village lay. 
 
 A flock of nude children sporting with arrows, 
 squaws gathering porn, and a score or more of sava 
 ges preparing for a hunt, met the sight of the com 
 ers. Bundles of flags and bulrushes for making mats 
 lay near some of the wigwams, and squaws sat by 
 them weaving mats or baskets of black and white 
 rushes, or little baskets of crab-shells. 
 
 Apart from the rest was a wigwam built of saplings 
 bent in a rounded form, and covered with thick- 
 wrought mats. A long mat, brightly colored, served 
 for a screen at the entrance. Within, eagles' claws, 
 horns of deer, and bunches of feathers from the 
 sea-drake or the eagle, hung against the handsome 
 skins that lined the hut. A basket of roasted acorns 
 was the only visible food. A rude bed of moss and 
 10
 
 218 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 leaves, over which was thrown a beautiful deer-skin, 
 was on one side, and upon this lay the sick stranger. 
 
 When Lady Moody entered, she could not perceive 
 the features of the sick man ; but as her eyes became 
 accustomed to the dim light, she saw that the face, 
 emaciated and discolored with paint, had neither the 
 mould nor the complexion of an Indian visage. His 
 eyes were wild and restless, and his thin hands hot 
 with fever. He refused the kind offices Lady Moody 
 would have performed, and stared at her with an 
 ugly glare. The sight of Sir Henry maddened him. 
 
 " Away with you ! " he cried. " You come to gloat 
 over my evil plight. You have hunted me down at 
 last, but you will neither get me nor the Dutch boor's 
 gold. The gold is in the sea. You are too late to 
 serve your writ on me. I am mortgaged, soul and 
 body, to the devil. Ah ha ! you savage vagabond ! " 
 said he, shaking his fist feebly at lyano, " is it for this 
 you brought me here ? " 
 
 Lady Moody and Sir Henry stood amazed at the 
 sight of this fallen cavalier. His velvet, gold lace, 
 corslet, and hose had given place to coarsely dressed 
 skins ; his massive periwig had disappeared, and his 
 matted locks were tied in an imgainly knot upon his 
 crown. His oily speech and courtier-like gallantries 
 were dropped, as needless masks in his last extremity, 
 and his true heart laid bare in confessions of the hor 
 rors of his guilty life, and in blasphemous reproaches 
 against God. Lady Moody listened till she could en 
 dure no longer. 
 
 " I know, Edgardo Percy, that thou art a fugitive
 
 CONSTANCE ATLMEE. '219 
 
 from justice, a betra} T er of thy friends, and a' woful 
 rebel against the Almighty," said she. " But thy sins 
 can be washed white in the blood of the Lamb, if 
 thou wilt believe in him. Even now, he is able to 
 give thee a robe of righteousness in which to stand 
 before him, if thou wilt take it. He died for such as 
 thee." 
 
 " I cannot believe ! I cannot believe ! My soul is 
 too full of horrors. All the evil deeds of my life 
 crowd like grinning demons into my thoughts. There 
 is no room for belief." 
 
 " But dost thou not grieve for all thy ill works ? 
 Canst thou not repent, and pray God for mercy ? " 
 
 " Pray ? " shouted Percy. " No. Pray to the 
 rock that is even now crushing me? Judgment has 
 come. I would fly from God ; he is my judge. There 
 is no mercy." 
 
 " Look to Christ, Edgardo. He is love and mercy. 
 Tor his sake, the Father will receive thee." 
 
 " I have mocked Christ ; he will not hear me. 
 There is no time, no room for mercy and love. I 
 am full of horror and hatred. Leave me ! you do 
 but taunt me. You come with your testimony, and 
 your godly life, to condemn me. Why torment me 
 before my time ? " He cursed and blasphemed till 
 the listeners were shocked. Tears poured like rain 
 over the cheeks of Lady Moody. 
 
 " Come away, mother," urged Sir Henry. " His 
 words are not fit for your ears. You do but ' cast 
 pearls before swine.' ' : 
 
 " Let me at least better the pitiful condition of his
 
 220 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 body, if 1 cannot help his soul," said she, preparing 
 medicine, and attempting to cool his head and hands. 
 Percy flung the potion from him, and warded off the 
 bath. Her gentleness availed nothing. Seeing that 
 her presence only aggravated his illness, she consented 
 to withdraw and allow lyano to serve him. She gave 
 simple directions, and prepared such nourishment as 
 she could over a fire of dry leaves and sticks. When 
 she had finished, she called lyano to sit beside her. 
 
 " How came Edgardo Percy in thy lodge ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 " His feet slide ! " She remembered the verse 
 read to him. 
 
 " Didst thou cause them to slide ? " 
 
 " Me find him on cold ground, all sick. Me no 
 want to touch him. The Evil-minded said, ' No help 
 your enemy.' Me go away. Good Spirit come to 
 Iyano ? s lodge and say, ' Give him drink.' The Bad 
 Spirit say, * Let him die ; he kill the White Swallow.' 
 Then Jesus said, ' Take him to your lodge, feed him ; 
 love your enemy, or I no love you.' Me feel very 
 bad; me pray; me go bring serpent to my lodge. 
 The mother sees him." 
 
 "lyano, thou art a beloved disciple. God will 
 reward thee. Thy end will be peace," said Lady 
 Moody, much moved. Even Sir Henry was not an 
 indifferent listener. 
 
 " This heathen has outstripped me ! " he ex 
 claimed. "I could in no wise do what lyano has 
 done." 
 
 tl Unless Christ dwelt in thy heart," his mother
 
 CONSTANCE AVLMEE. 221 
 
 added. " Let us ask our Fatlier to have mercy on 
 poor Edgardo. I cannot go home without one plea," 
 she said, as they arose to go. Sir Henry leaned 
 against a tree, and waited silently and respectfully. 
 Seeing Lady Moody kneel upon the ground, lyano 
 knelt also. She prayed fervently, as a woman with 
 all her sympathies stirred could pray. The sick man 
 in the cabin, only a little way removed from them, 
 could hear her distinct utterance. It quieted him. 
 Sir Henry wondered at the silence. He could hardly 
 listen to his mother's words, for agitation and awe 
 in thinking that perhaps the Spirit was moving upon 
 that wicked heart, and casting out the legion of devils 
 that had occupied it ; or perhaps Percy had sud 
 denly died. The suspense was painful. As soon as 
 his mother had finished, he strode to the door of the 
 wigwam ; but before he could enter, there came forth 
 a despairing cry, mingled with oaths, which arrested 
 him as if they had taken visible shape. 
 
 "May the Lord spare me from such a death-bed," 
 said he, turning away. He wished to escape from 
 these terrible cries of remorse and despair, and has 
 tened his mother's departure. She promised daily 
 help and counsel to lyano, and went away reluctant 
 and oppressed. She had not prayed with faith. She 
 was unbelieving now, and in all the homeward jour 
 ney wearied herself with self-reproaches, because she 
 could not approach nearer to the throne of grace with 
 this great burden. She counselled with Constance ; 
 
 O ' 
 
 she searched the Bible for every passage that prom 
 ised mercy to the erring ; she prayed, fasted, went
 
 222 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 again with entreaties to Percy all without once feel 
 ing the repose of faith that her prayers would be an 
 swered. This was a new and sorrowful experience. 
 
 " I fear that God is deaf to my poor intercessions. 
 Can it be that this soul has persisted too long and 
 wilfully against mercy ? " said Lady Moody. " Oh, 
 my son, thee can see how fearful it is to wait till the 
 last day of life to make peace with God. Edgardo has 
 no longer any power to look at the cross of Christ. 
 The pains of an awakened conscience deprive him of 
 reason. Alas ! what can I do for him ? " 
 
 Lady Moody labored in vain. There was no change 
 except for the worse, in body and mind. Percy failed 
 slowly. His iron frame resisted the progress of disease, 
 and might have overcome it, but for the fiercer rava 
 ges of a remorseful mind. At times he refused to 
 die, and, rising out of his bed, staggered from the 
 hut, to the terror of all who beheld him, and fell ex 
 hausted, to be carried back again on the shoulders of 
 faithful lyano. Stories of witchcraft began to be 
 whispered. This was an additional source of anxiety 
 to Lady Moody. When lyano came therefore one 
 day and told her Percy was dead, she heard it with 
 a sense of relief. Sir Henry made preparations to 
 return with lyano, to give him burial. 
 
 " Strange ! " said he as he went. " This is a strange 
 thing that I, who have spread so many nets to capture 
 Percy, should go at last to give him a friendly rest in 
 the grave." 
 
 " No law by which thou couldst have condemned 
 him," replied his mother, " can equal that simple law
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 223 
 
 under which he suffered : ' Whatsoever a man sow- 
 eth, that shall he also reap.' His soul is in the hands 
 of the living God. Do thou bury him with pity, re 
 membering that thou also must reap either eternal 
 death or eternal life." 
 
 Constance stood by with some late Autumn flow 
 ers in her hand, hesitating if she should send them 
 forgivingly to repose with Percy. There was no 
 mother, no sister, no kinsman, to mourn him. She 
 was touched by the utter forlornness of his death. She 
 reached them toward Sir Henry as he was going, and 
 then drew back. 
 
 " No," said she, " I cannot. They are too pure to lie 
 upon his breast. It is not fit that he should wear flow 
 ers. I can weep for poor Percy, but I cannot honor 
 him." 
 
 Many days passed before the family at Moody 
 Hall could recover from the depressing influence of 
 Percy's miserable death. New sympathies, interests, 
 and plans at length diverted them from these sad 
 thoughts. The days grew shorter, and the frosty 
 evenings brought them in cheerful companionship 
 about the fireside. Constance seemed herself again. 
 Sir Henry told her of his purpose of going to England 
 the next season, and amused her with his accounts of 
 London and the gay Lady Grey. Oliver Cromwell's 
 growing greatness was a topic of increasing interest. 
 His successes at home and abroad, his boldness in all 
 reformations, his piety, impressed them deeply. Con 
 stance was a hero- worshipper, and this kingly man, 
 risen out of the common ranks by the force of his own
 
 224 CONSTANCE AYLMEJ1. 
 
 character, and ruling men by the sole power of his 
 own will, without the aid of royal prestige and pa 
 geants, was a sublime spectacle in her eyes. Had 
 he been a less worthy ruler, she yet would have ad 
 mired his grand strength. His godliness added a maj 
 esty which awakened all her enthusiasm. It was pos 
 itive happiness to enthrone another human being in 
 her imagination, and see him invested with all noble 
 qualities. There would be less likelihood of his 
 falling from the pedestal than that other, at whose 
 feet she had laid the freshest emotions of her heart. 
 
 There was a frequenter of the family fireside who 
 vied with her enthusiasm, though in a less lofty de 
 gree. This was Mr. Baxter. He could not perceive 
 the singleness of purpose which she awarded Cromwell, 
 nor would he consent that innate strength had any 
 more to do with his reaching the throne than the force 
 of circumstances. Yet he greatly admired the man 
 and his work, and often expressed the wish that the 
 Manhattas were under his rule, rather than subject to 
 Holland. 
 
 "Whenever a ship arrived with later news from 
 England, or when any vague rumors of affairs over 
 the ocean reached him, Mr. Baxter made it the occa 
 sion of a visit to Moody Hall. Yet, despite his fre 
 quent visits, he felt that he made little or no progress 
 in Constance's interest. He had not ventured to ex 
 press his wishes or his admiration, for she held him 
 aloof. How, he could not have explained. Neither, 
 perhaps, could she. It was simple aversion on her 
 part to ' marriage without love, and the aversion un-
 
 CONSTANCE ATLMER. 225 
 
 consciously made itself apparent. He could not ac 
 cept this subtle assurance of defeat like a wise man, 
 and leave her, but seized the first opportunity to pre 
 sent himself as her suitor. 
 
 He found her alone one evening. She very soon 
 discovered his intentions in coming, and her first im 
 pulse was to escape from the hateful interview. Then 
 she reflected how very unquakerish was her toilet that 
 evening. A bodkin set with rubies confined the 
 bands of her hair, and a like cluster of stones glowed 
 upon her bodice. Her dress was of the same rich dark 
 hue, and lay in sweeping length upon the floor. The 
 sleeves were slashed with silk of a delicate shade of 
 amber. She hoped that Friend Baxter would be con 
 vinced at a glance of the unsuitableuess of his choice. 
 But the worthy citizen saw the beauty of her face and 
 the grace of her figure, without noting if either owed 
 anything to the choice of color or style of dress. He 
 might have condemned the jewels apart from the 
 wearer, but they seemed properly in place, without 
 attracting his especial notice ; the silk too, in so strong 
 contrast with the dark folds against which it lay, 
 might have offended his eye, had not the fairness of 
 the arm which it half veiled made him forget to dis 
 approve. If she had manifested a little vanity, or 
 coquettish archness, or frolicsome gayety, in the enter 
 tainment of her guest, he might have criticised the 
 worldliness of her attire ; as it was, jewels, lace, and 
 silk were forgotten in the repose of her manner and 
 thoughtfulness of her countenance. 
 
 Friend Baxter adroitly led the conversation to the 
 10*
 
 226 CONSTANCE ATLMER. 
 
 verge of a declaration. Constance just as expertly 
 diverted it. She hoped to convince him of the folly 
 of his errand, and deter him from fulfilling it. Did 
 he broach Quakerism ? She showed herself churchly 
 on all points. Did he speak kindly of his deceased 
 wife? Most heartily she commended him to remain 
 faithful to her memory. If he argued in favor of the 
 union of youth and age, she almost scornfully con 
 demned it. She was frightened at her own audacity 
 in so opposing the opinions of one whom she regarded 
 with respectful deference, yet was continually provoked 
 to it by her perverse suitor. George Baxter was by 
 nature a lawyer, though he had spent part of his 
 youth as an officer in the British army. He gave a 
 wonderful twist to all that Constance said, construed 
 it favorably, or proved her contrary opinion to be one 
 and the same with his. It was a useless strife. The 
 more she placed herself beyond his reach, the more 
 fixed was his purpose to woo. Ceasing his preliminary 
 skirmish, he expressed himself distinctly. 
 
 "Constance," he asked, "hast thou set thy affec 
 tions on any one with whom I should interfere unjust 
 ly, in seeking thy hand ? " She hesitated, and trembled 
 as if with cold. 
 
 " You would interfere only with myself," she re 
 plied. " Having no affection to bestow, your effort to 
 seek it must bring disappointment." Friend Baxter 
 did not dream, as he watched her white face and her 
 seeming self-possession, what a storm of feeling he 
 had awakened. The old love spurning the new, 
 resentment at the thought of age asking the sacrifice
 
 CONSTANCE A.YLMER. 227 
 
 of youth, dread of wounding by her frankness, and 
 a struggle for courage to speak with decision, were 
 like separate personalities conferring together so 
 violently, that her mind's eye looked on in dismay. 
 Mr. Baxter did not believe that she possessed no heart, 
 and took courage. 
 
 " I do not expect to win thy love at once," he said. 
 " Esteem is an excellent foundation whereon to build 
 love. In time thou wouldst find thy affection 
 awakened." 
 
 How matter-of-fact the voice sounded in her ear ! 
 What indignant thoughts were stirred by the cool 
 suggestion that in time her love would awake, as if it 
 had not already almost mastered her life 1 She was 
 nerved to plain speech. 
 
 " Mr. Baxter, I honor you as a citizen and a friend 
 of my aunt. The continuance of my esteem will de 
 pend upon the light in which you regard me. I shall 
 hold myself free from any alliance especially with 
 one whose age would forbid a right sympathy." 
 
 " Thou art inexperienced, or thou wouldst think 
 better of thip. I request thee not to be hasty in thy 
 decision." The calmness and the superior wisdom 
 with which he received her agitated words annoyed 
 her. She resolved to ridicule his purpose. 
 
 " Think of yourself with a wife in satin and pearls, 
 feathers, lace, and jewels ! " 
 
 " Thou wouldst not desire to dress in that showy 
 fashion, when thou dost not already." 
 
 " Truly I do. Here is a jewelled bodkin in my hair. 
 Color and ornament are not lacking in my dress, and,
 
 228 CONSTANCE AYLMEB. 
 
 for needful state, I do not demur at satin and 
 pearls." 
 
 "Hast thou forgotten what Paul says? 'Let 
 women adorn themselves in modest apparel, with 
 shamefacedness and sobriety ; not with broidered hair, 
 or gold, or pearls, or costly array, but, which becometh 
 women professing godliness, with good works.' Know 
 ing this, ought thou not to cast aside these needless 
 ornaments ? " 
 
 " My apparel is both modest and sober, compared 
 with the reigning fashion. I would neither follow 
 its fripperies, nor wrap myself in the uncomely garb 
 of the Friends." 
 
 " Does thy aunt's apparel displease thee ? " 
 
 "It becomes her age. It would disfigure mine, 
 and its sombreness would fill my thoughts." 
 
 " But how dost thou reconcile the gold and pearls ? " 
 
 " They accord with my station and means, and I 
 give them useful disposal. If they cramped my purse, 
 they would become me poorly, or if they had no end 
 but display, I should not be above the squaw who 
 decks herself with shining tin and copper." 
 
 " Most women set their hearts upon a fine show 
 of jewels. Ought thou to favor their sinfulness by 
 thy example in even a less display ? " 
 
 "My example counsels moderation, not excess. 
 Neither do I condemn myself for joy in the beauty of 
 these things. See the superb color of these rubies ! " 
 said she, unfastening her brooch, and holding it before 
 the light. " That delights me as does the excellent 
 color and form of a flower. If you hold that sinful, it
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEB. 229 
 
 must be wrong also to glory in tbe splendors of the 
 new Jerusalem." 
 
 "When we walk the streets of that city, we shall 
 be free from sin. Here sin mingles in our best emo 
 tions. Thy harmless delight in these gems may grow 
 to a vain pride in them before thou art aware." 
 
 " You would smother this joy just as monks and 
 nuns smother all joys, lest they be sinful," said Con 
 stance. 
 
 "We should meddle with vanities as little as 
 possible," returned Friend Baxter. 
 
 " You would put both soul and body in straight 
 ened durance," Constance replied. " I crave more free 
 dom. I would never have these things stand between 
 me and God, and I would have them bend always 
 to the needs of a fellow-creature. But may my heart 
 always bound at the sight of beauty, be it in a jewel, 
 a flower, the plumage of a gentle bird, or the arches 
 of a cathedral." 
 
 " Thou speakest indeed like a maiden unused to 
 the world. When thou hast seen more of its vanity 
 and temptations, thou wilt agree with me in this mat 
 ter." 
 
 Thus Friend Baxter ended just where he com 
 menced, with the argument of Constance's inexperi 
 ence. Yet he began to perceive the hopelessness of 
 his case, in the fact that more spirit'lay under the guise 
 of her gentle face than he had supposed. While con 
 tinuing the conversation, he reflected that much of 
 her expressed aversion was in regard to the strict 
 plainness of the dress of his sect. Would it not be
 
 230 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 wise to humor a little the natural choice of a young 
 girl ? Age would modify her tastes. "Why not please 
 her now with less severity of costume, and return to 
 it at some future time? He hesitated. He was 
 thoughtful and embarrassed. But what would he not 
 do to win this beautiful girl ? 
 
 " Constance," he asked abruptly, at length, " if I 
 should alter the attire which is so hateful in thine 
 eyes, wouldst thou reconsider thy decision ? " 
 
 " I fear if you escaped from under your wide hat 
 for so small a reason, you would get under it again 
 just as speedily," was the playful reply. 
 
 " I am not jesting. I desire to know, in case I 
 were to conform less to the opinions of my people in 
 this matter, if thy chief objections would not be re 
 moved ? " 
 
 " No," said Constance, earnestly. " I should 
 neither dare to mislead your conscience, nor should 
 esteem you if you permitted it." 
 
 He saw immediately that he had gone too far, and 
 felt humbled at her rebuke. After a painful silence, 
 he arose to leave her. 
 
 " Thou art right," said he, " to bring me to a re 
 membrance of the allegiance I owe to godly principle 
 rather than to love. The fairness of thy countenance 
 hath bewitched me, and lest I sin in laying more of 
 my conscience at thy feet, I will leave thee altogether. 
 Fare thee well."
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 231 
 
 XX. 
 
 THE winter months passed unmarked at Moody 
 Hall. Mr. Baxter spent some weeks in New Eng 
 land, so that he was missed from the lively disputa 
 tions on English affairs still carried on. "When he re 
 turned, he was absorbed in a new project, which he 
 cautiously unfolded to such citizens as would proba 
 bly favor it, but for some reason deferred making it 
 known to Sir Henry or Lady Moody till his plans 
 were nearly completed. One day he visited the Hall 
 for the purpose of consulting with them. 
 
 " Friend Deborah," said he, after some hesitation, 
 " I have come to tell thee of the important results of 
 my visit to New England. Would thee not rejoice to 
 see Gravesend brought under English rule ? " 
 
 " Truly I would, if it could be done without dis 
 honor." 
 
 " Cromwell has ordered the governors of New 
 England to take possession of Long Island, and by 
 force if necessary." 
 
 " Where didst thou get thy information ? " asked 
 Lady Moody, greatly surprised. 
 
 " Chiefly in Quinnipiac, now called New Haven. 
 Governor Eaton does not despise the rumor, and when 
 I related our grievances to John Davenport, the min 
 ister, and one of the f seven pillars ' of the new colony, 
 he was filled with indignation that we should submit
 
 232 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 to so hard requirements. Others advised us to revo 
 lutionize the colony, and offered help." 
 
 " Were those offers of help from persons in au 
 thority ? " asked Sir Henry, with an incredulous look. 
 
 " Thee knows my stay was too short to consult 
 with many in authority. Two English captains ten 
 dered their ships and themselves to assist us." 
 
 " Adventurers ! " said Sir Henry. " Doubtless 
 they are fired by Cromwell's successes, and think to 
 conquer the world in his name ! " 
 
 " They promise the arrival of troops this spring," 
 added Mr. Baxter. 
 
 "Friend Baxter," interrupted lady Moody, u what 
 dost thou propose to do here, in preparations for these 
 helps?" 
 
 " Renounce our allegiance to the Dutch author 
 ities." 
 
 " Are any ready to venture so much ? " 
 
 " John Grover, Sergeant Hubbard, and others of 
 our townsmen uphold me." 
 
 " Friend, thou art engaging in a foolish rebellion." 
 
 " It is right to rebel against tyrants." 
 
 " But hadst thou stated our grievances to Oliver 
 Cromwell, and were he our champion, it would still 
 become thee not to cast thyself upon the Director 
 single-handed. Rumors and two captains will never 
 safely back thee, or frighten Petrus Stuyvesant." 
 
 " I hope to accomplish a peaceful revolution while 
 the Director is absent in the West Indies, not doubt 
 ing we shall have English troops here by the season 
 of his return.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 233 
 
 " I foresee your pitiful plight if they fail to arrive," 
 remarked Sir Henry, who ridiculed the whole affair. 
 
 " But the cause is worthy of some risk. Graves- 
 end can never become the fine city we planned, 
 under Director Stuy vesant's rule. We are strictly an 
 English colony, and should be under English rule. 
 We are wearied with unjust restrictions upon our 
 worship. Thou shouldst not consider the risks alone, 
 but bear in mind the honors of success also." 
 
 " What honors ? " questioned Sir Henry. 
 
 " Thee may receive the appointment of Governor 
 of the Island." 
 
 " I decline the honor in advance. I would not 
 stand in your way," returned Sir Henry, ironically. 
 Crossing the room to the window, where Constance 
 sat at her embroidery frame, he said in an undertone, 
 
 " Do you comprehend this revolutionist ? Are you 
 dazzled by the governorship 2 " 
 
 " Pray do not jest," she entreated, and turned 
 away lest Mr. Baxter should be wounded by the dis 
 covery of his ridicule. 
 
 " Friend Baxter," said Lady Moody, after a pause, 
 " is thy heart fully set within thee to do this thing ? " 
 
 " Yea, Deborah," was the earnest answer. 
 
 " And art thou sure that the interest of the colony 
 alone moves thee ? " His reply was less frank. He 
 offered various reasons. Lady Moody put them aside. 
 
 " Friend Baxter," said she, " thee would use despite 
 toward Petrus Stuyvesant, in that he deposed thee 
 from office. I remember his anger and thine. Thee 
 would throw off his yoke in retaliation."
 
 234 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 " He had no right to interfere with the election. I 
 was duly elected." 
 
 " It would please thee not only to take away part 
 of his dominion, but to govern it also, and thus avenge 
 thyself. Is this our rule of life ? " said Lady Moody, 
 fearlessly. 
 
 " Thou h&t no right to impute to me these mo*- 
 tives," was the reply. " If thou wilt be blind to thine 
 own interests, thou shouldst not hinder others." 
 
 " George Baxter, thee knows I have the welfare of 
 this colony near my heart. I warn thee not to disturb 
 its peace foolishly. Thy plots will draw many people 
 into sorrow. As for thee, the Director will send thee 
 to Holland in chains." 
 
 Friend Baxter was offended, and arose to go. lie 
 was disappointed in not securing the approbation he 
 sought, and not a little chagrined at so severe reproofs 
 in the presence of Constance. There were many who 
 would have been influenced by Lady Moody's and Sir 
 Henry's endorsement of his schemes. Now he must 
 continue his plans without them, trusting that success 
 would quickly convert them to his views. 
 
 Rumors of disaffection began to reach New Am 
 sterdam. Director Stuy vesant was absent on a peace 
 ful expedition to the West Indies, having left the gov 
 ernment in the hands of Councillor De Sille, who 
 took no steps to arrest the promised revolution. The 
 eventful day was already appointed, and so well known 
 and so widely talked of, that Sir Henry Moody was 
 amazed at the torpidity of the Dutch authorities, and 
 shut himself up in vexation at all parties.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEH. 235. 
 
 It was a bright morning in April when the towns 
 people gathered in the square before the Town House, 
 some curious to watch the proceedings, and some full 
 of enthusiasm at the prospect of pronouncing them 
 selves once more subjects of England. Sergeant 
 Hubbard harangued the crowd from the steps of the 
 Town Hall, and was sustained by noisy acclama 
 tions. When his speech and the applause ended, Mr. 
 Baxter stepped forth, and, after a few brief words, 
 read a paper renouncing allegiance to Holland, and 
 proclaiming the government of England. It was 
 received with loud cheers, which grew almost frantic 
 when the Prince's flag was lowered, and the British 
 colors floated proudly at the head of the tall flagstaff. 
 
 At this moment a small party of horsemen gal 
 loped into town, and riding directly among the crowd, 
 which scattered right and left, dismounted upon the 
 steps of the Town Hall. In live minutes, George 
 Baxter was under arrest by authority of the Council 
 of New Amsterdam, the British colors were down, 
 and the Prince's flag reinstated. The Fiscal ordered 
 the crowd to disperse to their homes, which they were 
 glad to do, congratulating themselves on so happy an 
 escape, and leaving the village square as still as on 
 " Lord's day." The Manhattan party swooped away 
 with their prey. In a few hours, Mr. Baxter was 
 safely immured in the " keep " of the Fort, to await 
 the return of the valiant Governor. 
 
 Back of the Fort stood the school-house, in which 
 was included the schoolmaster's dwelling. It was 
 built by the Company in Holland that had planted
 
 236 CONSTANCE AYOIER. 
 
 the Dutch colony here, and was more expensive in 
 finish than most of the houses in New Amsterdam. 
 The red-tiled floor of the family room, and the blue 
 and white pictured tiles of the fireplace, were a 
 source of pride to the burghers, and of never-failing 
 interest to the school urchins, who invented all manner 
 of excuses to get access to this wonderful room. Hans 
 was no longer its bachelor occupant. He had brought 
 Lisbet to it as his bride one day. Her own bright 
 pewter adorned the mantel now, in place of rusty 
 nails, shoe roses, empty ink-bottles, birch-rods, and 
 dusty manuscripts. The tiles had never shown half 
 their beauty before. Even the stoop was more inviting, 
 and the cleanly swept walk and trim flower-beds told 
 every passer by that a good wife dwelt here. To keep 
 the feet of unruly children from straying over the pet 
 garden would have puzzled a wiser head than Lisbet's, 
 but she administered oly-koeks and seed-cakes, and 
 offered rewards of the brightest poppies that grew. 
 
 The noise of these children at play penetrated the 
 solitary prison in the Fort, and was a pleasant sound 
 to Mr. Baxter. He amused himself by divining their 
 sports, by picturing characters from the tone of the 
 voices, counted the hours by the alternate silence and 
 noise, marked the holidays, and wrote hjntnns and son 
 nets on his wooden bench, suggested by the bubbling, 
 careless life of these little ones. These sounds afford 
 ed the cheeriest moments of his imprisonment. Little 
 else broke the monotony. A few who knew him when 
 Secretary under Director Keith visited him, but for 
 the most part he was regarded with aversion as a tur-
 
 CONSTANCE ATLMER. 237 
 
 bulent traitor, and avoided from fear of the disfavor 
 of Governor Stuyvesant. Lady Moody was his most 
 faithful friend. She had been severe when his moni 
 tor ; now, in his distress, she had no words of reproach, 
 but many for his comfort. Four months went slowly 
 thus, when one day he missed the voices of the children 
 at an unusual time, and wondered much at the reason 
 of the holiday. May-day and Pinkster had gone long 
 ago. It was not seventh day. Perhaps they were 
 dismissed to the meadows. Perhaps the heat had 
 awakened pity for their confinement. Was some 
 official dead ? Had an epidemic seized them ? Thus 
 Mr. Baxter teazed himself that long, still, warm 
 afternoon, waiting uneasily for the hour of his even 
 ing meal to ask the question of his keeper. Before 
 that time he learned in a pleasanter way. 
 
 Hans had granted a half holiday to his scholars, 
 to give place to an entertainment. Lisbet had taken 
 possession of the school-room for her guests' supper- 
 room, and now, while" poor Mr. Baxter was fretting 
 over the unwonted silence, there sat in the tiled room 
 Dame Zwaller and the Burgomaster, Barbara and 
 Dame Roosevelt, and Constance Aylmer, who, for the 
 first time in many months, was a guest under the 
 Zwaller roof. Barbara told her how sleek the cows 
 were at the bowery, how sweet the cream, how lus 
 cious the berries ; described the pruning of the yew- 
 trees into lions each side of the gate, and the success 
 ful growing of the prim box borders of the flower 
 beds. A roly-poly baby was plumped on the floor at 
 Barbara's feet, the very embodiment of good-nature.
 
 238 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 Lisbet stopped in her running to and fro to kiss its 
 cheeks and shake it into laughter, and sometimes the 
 Burgomaster lifted it on his knee, or passed it to its 
 admiring grandmother. In any case, the baby was a 
 model of patience, and endured all the pinching and 
 tossing and praising without raising one cry in self- 
 defence. 
 
 While Lisbet was preparing tea with deft hands 
 and nimble feet, Constance and Barbara went out 
 into the garden to enjoy its fragrant luxuriance. The 
 morning-glories had clambered almost to the top ot 
 the wall of the Fort, which hemmed in the garden on 
 one side. As Constance's eyes followed the vines, 
 she thought they might some day mount the top, 
 creep over the green esplanade, and toss their gay 
 blossoms in sight of the forlorn prisoner, \vhen he 
 paced the yard below in his daily exercise. 
 
 " It must be very warm in the ' keep ' to-day," said 
 Constance. " Poor George Baxter is there yet. I 
 wish 1 could see him." 
 
 "He is a wicked man!" exclaimed Barbara. 
 " How can you wish to see him ? " 
 
 "Not so badly minded as you think, Barbara. 
 He believed himself a patriot." 
 
 " The Director will be angry with you, if you ex 
 cuse his treason." 
 
 " He has not yet returned ? " asked Constance, 
 looking wistfully at the Fort. 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Let us go and visit George Baxter. It is but a 
 step thither. Nicholas will admit us."
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 239 
 
 "I do not wish to see the monster!" returned 
 Barbara. 
 
 " You need not look at him. Come, let us ask Nich 
 olas. Or there is Mistress Bayard, at the Governor's 
 house. You can ask her. She would not willingly 
 refuse Baltazzar's wife." 
 
 " I will go to the house, but not to the keep," an 
 swered Barbara, trembling. 
 
 " Wait till I speak with Lisbet," said Constance, 
 disappearing in the house, and returning agaiu in a 
 moment to gather a handful of choice fragrant blos 
 soms. 
 
 " Here comes Baltazzar ! " exclaimed Barbara, 
 joyfully. " We may go without censure under his 
 wing. His father will never be angry with him for 
 admitting you." As Baltazzar opened the gate they 
 met him, questioning. 
 
 " Go ? " he answered, raising his eyebrows in his 
 father's fashion. " Mistress Constance may go where- 
 ever she wishes, and see whoever she pleases." 
 
 " Thank you ! " returned Constance, gratefully 
 smiling. All three passed out of the gate, and walked 
 toward the entrance of the Fort. 
 
 In a few moments they were within the keep, a 
 strong inclosure for special offenders. An ill-venti 
 lated apartment with a stone floor, a wooden bench, 
 and a low pallet of straw, was apportioned to Friend 
 Baxter. When Constance entered, his head was 
 bowed upon his hands. She thought him asleep, and 
 would have retreated, but he looked up and arose, as 
 tonished as if a vision had appeared before him.
 
 240 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 " Is it possible that I behold thee, Constance Ayl- 
 mer ? " She took his extended hand. 
 
 " I was in Lisbet's garden, and wished to come and 
 see you. I am sorry you are here. I would help you 
 if I could." 
 
 " Thou art good to say as much ; but thou canst 
 not. The fool must suffer for his folly. How is 
 Friend Deborah ? " 
 
 " She is well. She has letters from England con 
 cerning George Fox, which she will bring when she 
 comes. You will find solace in them." He smiled 
 sadly. 
 
 " Friend Deborah told me of thy resolve to visit 
 England," said he. " When dost thou go ? " 
 
 " Three weeks hence." 
 
 " I shall miss thy face, if ever I return to Graves- 
 end. But it will be happiness to remember thee did 
 not forget me in prison." 
 
 " What message shall I bear to my aunt, from 
 you?" 
 
 " Tell her I crave books. My thoughts devour 
 me. Thou canst see that I suffer." Constance's eyes 
 were suffused with tears as she saw his pale face and 
 haggard looks, and thought how long he might yet 
 remain a prisoner. 
 
 " Will you take these flowers ? " she said. " They 
 will bring freshness and fragrance to you a little 
 while ; let me put them in this cup. Perhaps Lisbet 
 will bring you more from her garden when T am 
 gone ; I will ask her." Friend Baxter turned awa.y 
 to conceal his emotion.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 241 
 
 " Thou art too tender in thy kindness, and the 
 flowers remind me of the free air of heaven. God 
 bless thee, Constance Aylmer." 
 
 " I must go now, else the friends at Lisbet's will 
 miss us. Here is my fan ; I will leave it for. you, 
 though it is gayer than you can approve. You must 
 think only of its use, and not mind the gay feathers," 
 said she, smiling gently, as she unfastened from her 
 belt a large fan bordered with swaying white feathers, 
 and laid it on the bench. " I would it were plainer, 
 for your sake. Good-bye, Mr. Baxter." 
 
 " Farewell, beloved friend. I will not ask thee 
 to keep me in mind ; I am not worthy. May the 
 Lord remember thee as thou hast remembered me in 
 my sad strait. Farewell." 
 
 In a few moments Barbara and Constance were 
 again in Lisbet's parlor. The lively chat oppressed 
 her ; she could not put away from her thoughts the 
 gloomy room and its sorrowful occupant she had just 
 left. Hans noted her abstraction, and the happy 
 thought occurred to him to bring out some of his 
 manuscript legends, since they owed their existence 
 to her long-ago suggestions. He drew a chair out 
 upon the platform before the door, where it was cool 
 and quiet, and, giving her the papers, said, 
 
 "I would like you to read them ; some sympathy 
 would comfort me. Lisbet is a good wife, but she 
 lias no time to listen to ballads or legends, and is too 
 light of soul to comprehend my yearnings. But I 
 would not have her anything else than she is my 
 
 humming-bird." 
 
 ' n
 
 242 CONSTANCE AYLHEK. 
 
 Constance took the papers with real pleasure, 
 read some of them, and talked enthusiastically with 
 Hans of his plans till Lisbet called them to tea. Hans 
 was a happy and proud host that night, and could 
 not refrain from laying nets for the praises of his 
 wife's matchless viands. And praises were not stinted, 
 for even Dame Zwaller felt amiable. Dame Roose 
 velt grew unwontedly loquacious, and told what was 
 uppermost in her heart. Elsie was coming home in 
 a fortnight. Constance felt the deepening flush upon 
 her cheeks, and tried to hide her agitation in some 
 ordinary comments to Baltazzar. But her thoughts 
 were busy with surmises if Edward Mordatmt was 
 coming also. If she could escape to England before 
 their arrival, she would be content. How could she 
 meet Edward with composure ? No, never this side 
 of the grave ! 
 
 After tea, when standing near Dame Roosevelt, 
 she tried to summon courage to ask if Mordaunt was 
 expected with Elsie ; but her heart throbbed at the 
 effort, her pride rebelled, and she turned away. The 
 opportunity was gone now, for they were all saying 
 good-night to Lisbet. She said good-night also, and 
 walked home with the Zwallers, carrying the dread 
 with her. The sun had set; laborers had finished 
 their work, and the sound of clamorous voices, whips, 
 wheels, tramping feet, and the echo of the hammer, 
 the axe, and the noisy rat-tat of the drum in the 
 fort, had all ceased. The Herrs sat on the " stoeps," 
 smoking and meditating. Gabriel Carpsey, the herds 
 man, had just come in at the "land-gate" at the end
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 243 
 
 of the street, with his long line of sleek cows, odorous 
 of fresh grass and new milk. Gabriel blew his horn 
 now and then, as he trolled along the street ; and the 
 dairy-maids came out to welcome the ( returning bossy, 
 each one at its home-gate. 
 
 "I like the sound of Gabriel's horn," said Con 
 stance. " It wakes me early, and pleasantly." 
 
 " Pleasanter than to be. waked by a hooting owl, 
 as yon were the first morning in New Amsterdam," 
 laughed Dame Z waller. 
 
 "Yon will hear enough of that music at tin; 
 bowery to-morrow," said the Burgomaster. " Ono 
 herdsman can no longer gather Baltazzar's flocks and 
 herds. He reminds me of Jacob. His tenderness to 
 Nicholas alone hinders his riches." 
 
 " Do not the misfortunes of Nicholas merit his 
 tenderness ? " asked Constance. 
 
 "Nicholas' misfortunes are of his own seeking. 
 If he spends his time at races and cock-fights, or in 
 smoking and sipping Metje "Wessell's beer, he cannot 
 long carry a full purse. An idle mill will not coin 
 guilders." 
 
 "But the windmill is blown down. He cannot 
 receive blame," said Constance. 
 
 "He should have had watchful eyes, and given it 
 a stitch in time. Neither will it mend itself now. 
 Baltazzar must come to the rescue." 
 
 " Ah, well, Baltazzar is a noble, helpful, patient 
 brother. He will win Nicholas yet. I know Bar 
 bara would choose him to lose rather his guilders 
 than his goodness."
 
 244 COMSTAXCE AYLMER. 
 
 The next day Constance made a farewell visit to 
 the bowery, saw the famous lions at the gate, grati 
 fied Baltazzar with inspecting his fields and herds, 
 permitted Barbara to row the boat for her iip and 
 down the river, and returned at sunset to the Zwal- 
 ler's. Early the next morning, she went to see good 
 Mistress Primley, who lamented that she could not 
 chaperone her across the sea again, and gave her 
 many charges for her safety during the voyage. Lis- 
 bet and Hans aud Dame Zwaller went with her to 
 the ferry. Dame Zwaller whispered, that when the 
 " Hope " was ready to sail, she would send on board 
 a box of delicacies, that she might not suffer from the 
 coarse fare of the ship toward the end of the long 
 voyage. Thus, with good wishes and tender em 
 braces, they parted. 
 
 Two weeks afterward, the captain of the " Hope " 
 sent a speedy message to Gravesend that he was in 
 readiness, and wished to take advantage of wind and 
 tide, as soon as Sir Henry and Constance arrived. 
 This hastened the dreaded parting with Lady Moody. 
 At almost the last moment, it was determined that 
 Hose should go with Constance. She would have 
 gone to the ends of the earth with her young mistress, 
 for \vhat did she not owe to her gentle goodness ? 
 She quickly gathered her little store of needs, filled 
 with joy at the strange event, yet trembling with fear 
 at venturing upon the vast sea. 
 
 It was no light thing for Constance and her aunt 
 to part, even for a twelvemonth, when the Atlantic 
 was to roll between them. It was as the Reparation
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 245 
 
 of mother and daughter, so confiding had been the 
 love of one, so tender had been the guidance of the 
 other. And Lady Moody looked wistfully upon the 
 sweet face, as she remembered it might light her 
 dwelling no more, or that contact with the London 
 world might change her artless uprightness. She 
 prayed in her soul that God would keep this daughter 
 from the falseness of life. She could not trust her 
 voice to utter the words she would say .in these last 
 moments, and perhaps they were not needed. She 
 only clasped Constance in her arms, and they parted 
 with silent tears. 
 
 Old Caesar, .Pete, Mingo, and Chloe, conspicuous 
 for her. grief, were at the gate to say last words, and 
 give God speed to the voyagers. Sir Henry laughing 
 ly bade them good-bye, and hurried Constance and 
 Hose away. The quiet village was soon left behind, 
 the bridge and the great white oak were passed, not 
 without regrets, for they were associated with the 
 saddest days of Constance's life. As she lost sight of 
 one familiar object after another, she could not but 
 think of the time when she first beheld them, and 
 feel how different was the girl of to-day from the girl 
 of two years ago. The spray of life wreathed her 
 playfully then ; now its surges had rolled over her. 
 She had emerged from the double baptism of an 
 earthly and a heavenly love, purified from selfishness 
 not wholly perhaps, for long and sorrowful dis 
 cipline, even to the end of life, can hardly perfect 
 such a work in any soul yet she had learned what 
 it was not to live to herself. She had come hither a
 
 246 CONSTA7SCK AYLMER. 
 
 passive, emotionless being, gathering the honey of 
 life, and looking amazed at grief-stricken souls. Now 
 she understood them, she had tears of pity for them, 
 and yearned to see such cast themselves on Christ for 
 solace. This rich sympathy was worth attaining, 
 even through much suffering. She had learned, too, 
 to trust her Father like a little child. She could 
 place her hand in His, and say, " Lead me," gratefully 
 kissing the rod that had brought her to Him. 
 
 Thinking these thoughts, Constance rode quietly 
 beside Sir Henry, with Rose and Mingo following. 
 Lightfoot would not carry her again, perhaps, and 
 she stroked his mane, patted his neck, and talked as 
 if the creature answered her. Arrived at Breuklyn, 
 she dismounted, threw her arms over him, kissed the 
 glossy neck of the dumb beast that had always borne 
 her so gracefully and so well, and commended him to 
 Mingo's gentlest care. Mingo wiped his eyes with 
 his sleeves, and felt like kissing the ground whereon 
 Constance stood, but he did better in kissing her hand 
 with a profound obeisance, when she held it out to 
 say good-bye. Cornelius Dirkseu ferried the voyagers 
 to the ship. In another hour the " Hope " sailed 
 away, but not before they had a last glimpse of friends 
 gathered at the landing in New Amsterdam. There 
 was Dame Zwaller, the sincere and shrewd adviser, 
 Barbara with her good heart, Mistress Primley, 
 motherly and anxious to the last, bright and gossipy 
 Lisbet, and poor wayward, jaunty Nicholas, straining 
 their eyes to see Constance leaning over the bulwarks. 
 They all disappeared from her sight in the misty dis-
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 247 
 
 tance ; and soon with them the rows of houses, the 
 Fort, the church tower, and last of all, the whirling 
 wind-mills faded to a dark line, and sunk away to 
 be seen only in her pleasant pictured memories of 
 New Amsterdam.
 
 248 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 THE voyage was unusually long and wearisome. 
 Constance felt it Lad a happy ending when she 
 stepped once more on firm earth, and forgot her fa 
 tigue in the strangeness and bustle of the port of 
 Gravesend, England. She waited at the " Queen's 
 Arms " with Rose, while Sir Henry went for a coach 
 to convey them to London. Standing at the window 
 and looking at the gray clouds overhead, or away at 
 the wharf where the " Hope " was gently rocking, she 
 did not notice two gay gallants who, just come down 
 from London, were pacing the street beneath the 
 window, till the words of one of them fell distinctly 
 on her ear. 
 
 "By my troth," he exclaimed, "if Vandyke or 
 Sir Peter Lely can find a sweeter face than that in 
 all London to paint, I should like to behold it ! " 
 
 Glancing at the speaker, she saw that both he and 
 his companion were gazing boldly at herself. She 
 instinctively drew back from the window, mortified 
 and vexed. 
 
 "Do they count me a rustic? Am I so ancient 
 in dress, after my long banishment, as not to seem a 
 gentlewoman ? But I ought not to stand dreaming 
 at the window, as if I were in the simple Manhattan. 
 I will not put myself in fault again." 
 
 The two voices, noisily discussing the beauty of
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 249 
 
 one Lady Cecil, still came in at the ope:i window, 
 and filled Constance with a vague fear. She rejoiced 
 when Sir Henry came at last to assist her to the coach. 
 The uncivil cavaliers stood gazing as she passed, and 
 amused themselves with each other's wit at sight of 
 Rose's black face. Sir Henry was too occupied to 
 perceive them, and Constance kept silence, for she 
 well knew his hot temper and the disturbance it would 
 create. She quietly hid herself in shadow till the 
 coach started for London. 
 
 Lord Grey's fine house was in the Strand, the 
 then fashionable quarter of the nobility. It stood in 
 the midst of spacious well-shaded grounds overlooking 
 the river. Its solid look without was relieved by 
 turrets and high-arched windows. "Within, the cold 
 aspect of the broad stone staircase heightened the 
 magnificence of the rooms to which it led, and added 
 softness and warmth to the rich carpets and hangings. 
 
 Lady Grey and her daughter were here, having 
 lately returned from Bath. The mother was endowed 
 with beauty, which she preserved with an assiduous 
 care worthy of a better object. She was a thorough 
 woman of the world, a spiteful royalist, and devoted 
 to bishop's robes, rituals, pictures, painted windows, 
 and other religious ornaments which the Puritans had 
 sternly torn away. In this she was at war with her 
 husband, an Independent, a member of Parliament, a 
 close quiet watcher of Cromwell's acts, devoted to the 
 reforms he would inaugurate, but distrustful and 
 timid as to the means. The daughter, Lady Alice, 
 inherited more of her mother's aristocratic spirit and 
 11*
 
 250 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 love of gayety than of lier beauty, though her face 
 was by no means plain. For various reasons, she had 
 speculated much on the coming of Constance, and had 
 asked endless questions concerning her, which Lady 
 Grey could hardly answer, not having seen her since 
 her childhood. She could only assure her daughter 
 that the Aylmer stock was noble, that the mother was 
 an incomparable woman, and the father a true knight 
 with but one fault he was a Puritan. "Whether 
 Constance was a Puritan or a Papist, grave or gay, 
 awkward or graceful, and, above all, if she would 
 prove a rival in fairness, were questions that occupied 
 her till the day of the arrival. 
 
 When Constance came, criticism was disarmed. 
 Her unaffected grace and the purity of her accent 
 took Lady Alice by surprise, and inspired her with a 
 sudden affection which was certain to cool when 
 closer acquaintance would discover how widely their 
 notions of life differed. She devoted herself to her 
 for several days after her coming, with great conde 
 scension, planning all manner of available amusements, 
 lamenting with her mother over the graveness of 
 society under the Protector's rule, laughing at the 
 cleverness with which they and others managed to 
 evade some of the prohibitions, and promising Con 
 stance that she should accompany them to the play 
 house, in spite of grim Puritans. 
 
 " But you will not see the beautiful cathedrals as 
 they were once," said Lady Alice. " St. Paul's is rob 
 bed of its altar and pictures and lovely image of the 
 Yirgin. The golden candlesticks, crucifixes and plate
 
 CONSTANCE ATLMEK. 251 
 
 \vere sold for the service of the war, and the pretty 
 pictures painted on the windows were broken out or 
 defaced. Was it not wicked of those solemn saints to 
 spoil everything ? To demolish the organ too ! " 
 
 " Was there not some good reason ? " suggested 
 Constance, secretly wounded by every thrust intended 
 for the Protector. 
 
 " Oh, they feared we would turn naughty Pa 
 pists." 
 
 " And does the Protector forbid music ? " asked 
 Constance surprised. 
 
 " He will not have it in the cathedrals, but he has 
 enough at the cock-pit for the entertainment of his 
 friends." 
 
 " What is the cock-pit '?" asked Constance. Lady 
 Alice laughed gently at the novice, and answered, 
 
 " A princely residence, once voted to the use of 
 His Highness by Parliament. It is only called the 
 cock -pit because it was King Henry Eighth's place of 
 cock fighting." 
 
 "And does the Protector dwell there now ? " 
 
 "!N"o, he has right royal lodgings in Whitehall 
 Palace, that which was once Cardinal Woolsey's house. 
 You shall see it soon. We will drive thither when 
 mamma calls the coach. I forget that you have not 
 yet seen all London. How droll that you never came 
 to London when you lived at Atherton Hall ! But if 
 you had once tasted London, you could never have 
 endured two years among those Dutch fantastics, the 
 other side of the sea." 
 
 " I love them very much," said Constance, color-
 
 252 COXST^NCE ATLMEE. 
 
 ing slightly. " They were exceeding gentle to me, 
 and lacked no kindnesses to each, other." 
 
 " And did you never fear that old sea-king, Petrus, 
 who I have heard whips his burghers with his woo'den 
 leg when they do not please him ? That is faintly 
 like our lion, Oliver, who growls the members out of 
 the Parliament House when they refuse to do his 
 bidding," scornfully laughed Lady Alice. 
 
 " Governor Stuyvesant does nothing in that 
 fashion," returned Constance, soberly. " You have 
 heard only slanders to which his iiery temper gives 
 some countenance." 
 
 " But truly, niy cousin, was it not wearisome to 
 dwell among those people with no cavaliers of gentle 
 blood to attend you ? " 
 
 " I was not ennuied in that wonderful New World. 
 There are always some cavaliers seeking to repair fall 
 en fortunes, whose learning does not come amiss." 
 
 "Had you no lovers there? " 
 
 " I have none," replied Constance, with downcast 
 eyes. 
 
 " My mother must make for you a distinguished 
 match," said Lady Alice. 
 
 " I do not wish to be betrothed to any," was Con- 
 tance's reply. 
 
 " You would rather live in Lady Moody's nun 
 nery ? " asked Lady Alice, in amazement. 
 
 " Yes; it is heavenly there." 
 
 u And miss all the happiness of being a belle, and 
 carrying oif the prize of the season always through 
 my mother's help? " laughed Lady Alice. " My set-
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 253 
 
 tlement is just completed, though it has gone 
 hard enough between my father and Lord D'Arcy's 
 father about the bestowment of certain lands upon 
 him. You should see mj Lord D'Arey ! He is of 
 proud descent. He is handsome as the handsomest 
 picture in his father's gallery of family portraits. 
 And he dresses not like those hateful Roundheads, 
 but like a true courtier. Our betrothment is to be this 
 day fortnight; the wedding not before next season. 
 You shall see him. He dines with us to-morrow." 
 
 As Lady Alice ran on in her shallow way, Con 
 stance began to comprehend how little sympathy 
 could ever exist between them. She held her life ex 
 periences in sacred silence, but Lady Alice was wont 
 to pour them all out like a babbling brook. To her, 
 love was a holy, deep emotion, not to be measured by 
 words ; to Lady Alice, it was an amusing phase of 
 vanity, to end presently in a very convenient, desira 
 ble, and ambitious marriage. The greatest interest of 
 the approaching betrothal was the elegant and becom 
 ing toilet to be provided, and the vexation that Lady 
 So-and-so would feel at her failure in securing Lord 
 D'Arey for either of her daughters. 
 
 " "Why do you look at me with such wonderment 
 in your eyes \ " asked Lady Alice, smiling, and ab 
 ruptly ending her chat about her lover. 
 
 " You take life like a singing-bird. It seems to 
 hold little for you that is serious." 
 
 " Happy that for me ! " was the reply. " You 
 would not have me look solemn as an owl, and repeat 
 psalms apt to the occasion, would you ? "
 
 254 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 li No ; not that," returned Constance. 
 
 "Here comes Sir Henry," exclaimed Lady Alice. 
 " His merry countenance will not condemn me. And 
 there is my father arrived from Oxford. He will 
 dine with us to-day in honor of your coming. And 
 you must esteem it an honor, for his time is much 
 consumed at the Coffee House." Lady Alice went 
 languidly to meet her father. 
 
 " Let me lead you to my cousin," said she, in a 
 low tone. " She is fresh from a nunnery, and so naivo 
 and charming that I am captivated. She is such a 
 sweet novelty ! " 
 
 Lord Grey advanced toward Constance, and greet 
 ed her cordially. 
 
 "I honored your father," said he, "and for his 
 sake, as well as your own, I am glad to welcome you. 
 Choose this for a home, if you will. It would add 
 greatly to our happiness, especially as we are to lose 
 our daughter." After some courteous inquiries about 
 Lady Moody, the voyage, and other matters, he re 
 sumed his conversation with Sir Henry upon the polit 
 ical state of England. Constance observed him, while 
 listening. He was a slender, plain-featured man, hav 
 ing an air of abstraction, as if meditating continually 
 on painful and difficult subjects. That lie should 
 avoid the discussion of these with his wife, or that he 
 should spend his time discussing politics at the Coffeo 
 House, was not marvellous to Constance when she lis 
 tened to his sentiments, given in a low voice, but with 
 intense feeling. The very atmosphere of his presence 
 totally different from his home, and she felt
 
 CONSTANCE AYL3IEE. 255 
 
 drawn to him with a daughterly interest which was 
 manifest in her looks, and the close and quiet atten 
 tion given to his words. Lord Grey was not unobserv- 
 ing. Lady Alice rallied Constance on her attention 
 to politics. 
 
 " I wish to know of this expedition to Jamaica. 
 It may bode something to the Manhattan," replied 
 Constance. " Perhaps this is the 'help ' George Bax 
 ter expected at Long Island." Lord Grey questioned 
 about it, hummed his approbation, but shook his head 
 and said nothing. Constance suffered herself to be 
 drawn away by Lady Alice's importunities, and Crom 
 well and England were forgotten for a time, in the 
 discussion of purchases for the approaching betrothal. 
 In an interval of silence, the voices of the gentlemen 
 in the next room fell distinctly upon the ear, though 
 words could not be distinguished. A third person 
 had joined them. 
 
 " Who is now talking with Lord Grey ? " asked 
 Constance. " Do you know the voice ? " 
 
 " No. What of the voice ? " replied Lady Alice. 
 Constance hesitated, and then said, with a bright look 
 of pleasure, 
 
 " It is a manly voice, tender and refined. The 
 owner must be a prince by descent or by nature." 
 
 " Alas ! " replied Lady Alice, " we have none of 
 royal state with us now ; only haberdashers and men 
 of coarse stuff. The voice has nothing in it to me." 
 But she summoned a servant, and inquired who had 
 been admitted. 
 
 "Lord Huntington, my lady," said Maurice, retir-
 
 256 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 ing. " I ought to have recognized one so familiar to 
 my father. He is of honorable estate, and a member of 
 Parliament. This spoils him for me. It bespeaks 
 him a lover of the Protector. He is a widower, young 
 and distinguished, but not a marrying man, as many 
 a fine dowager knows. His wife died in the first year 
 of the Commonwealth, and since, he lives in his lordly 
 forsaken house like an Oxford student, when not sit 
 ting in council. The most bewitching court beauty 
 cannot draw him out of his seclusion." 
 
 Constance amused herself in picturing him while 
 still listening to his fine round tones, in contrast with 
 Sir Henry's brusque enunciation, and Lord Grey's 
 faint voice. 
 
 "He must be broad-minded and broad-chested and 
 tall. Neither could such a voice accompany narrow 
 and mean features. Since he is a Cromwellian, his 
 hair is not curled like a woman's, nor his dress in the 
 gay fashion of the cavaliers. He is doubtless worthy 
 to sit in Cromwell's Parliament." But these quiet 
 speculations were presently dismissed, and, with the 
 going out of the voice, Lord Huntington went out of 
 her thoughts. 
 
 The next day, as promised, Lord D'Arcy was 
 announced. Constance was dazzled by his costume 
 before she saw his face. A velvet doublet, Flanders 
 boots, and a sword-belt, worn sash-wise over his 
 shoulders, from which hung a Spanish rapier, gave 
 him a gallant air. The rapier and steel corslet were 
 needful to balance the feminine effect of the lace tie 
 and ruffles, and the mass of hair falling upon his
 
 COXSTANCB AYLMER. 257 
 
 shoulders. His features were classically handsome ; 
 lengthened somewhat in look by the pointed beard. 
 The moment Constance glanced at his face, she re 
 membered to have seen it before; and when Lord 
 D'Arcy was presented to her, he also recognized her 
 with confusion, as the young girl he had saluted at the 
 Queen's Arms the week before. Constance did not 
 betray by word or look that she had ever seen him, 
 except by a cold reserve which passed unobserved by 
 others than himself. He quickly recovered his non 
 chalance, and enlivened the whole party by his flow 
 ing conversation on society, art, literature, fashion, 
 and the latest reports of the exiled Court, freely inter 
 spersing ridicule of the family at Whitehall. 
 
 u And now," said he, " I have a rare entertainment 
 for your pleasure to-night. We have secured the 
 play-house for two representations of a French 
 play, which is to be so artfully supported by music 
 that it shall be noised abroad as only a private 
 concert." 
 
 " And if you are discovered in it 2 " questioned 
 Lady Alice. 
 
 " The house will be closed, and we shall be fined. 
 The fines we need not grudge, for Parliament is in 
 woful need of money, and may better take it out 
 of our merry entertainments than out of the estates 
 of delinquents poor royalist squires who have never 
 yet compounded. You can go masked, as some other 
 of the royalist ladies have in mind to do." 
 
 " My cousin," said Lady Alice, " you will sec a 
 stage-play sooner than we thought."
 
 258 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 "But to go masked," said Constance, timidly, 
 " will not be honorable." 
 
 "How droll!" laughed Lady Alice, turning to 
 Lord D'Arcy. " She is so naive ! She objects going 
 to the play en masque ! " 
 
 " I fear, if she appears without a mask, too many 
 eyes will be withdrawn from the actors for their good 
 encouragement," replied Lord D'Arcy. 
 
 " If I go with you," said Sir Henry, " you need 
 have little scruple." And thus it was settled for Con 
 stance. Lady Grey had now some suggestions to 
 make. 
 
 "You must not provide your coachman with a 
 torch," said she, " else our rank- will be proclaimed." 
 
 "]STo ; we will display a lantern, if you are willinjr 
 to appear in that plebeian fashion. Thus we shall pass 
 for a merchant's family," replied Lord D'Arcy. 
 
 In this state they set out some hours later, the 
 ladies disguised in black velvet masks with glass eyes, 
 held to the face with a string and bead in the mouth. 
 Uncomfortable enough, Constance thought, but not 
 half as uncomfortable as were her self-questionings of 
 the right and wrong of the whole proceedings. She 
 sat quiet and observing in the play-house. The stage 
 was strewed with rushes, and the walls richly hung. 
 There was no stage-scenery in that day, and the only 
 concealment afforded was by curtains, movable on 
 an iron rod. In the background was an upper stage, 
 or curtained balcony, from which parts of the play 
 were given. Constance listened attentively to the 
 very sweet music, and much of the dialogue. Seeing
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 259 
 
 her so occupied, Lord D'Arcy came triumphantly to 
 hear her praises of the entertainment. But first he 
 had an apology to offer. 
 
 " I would humbly crave your pardon, my sweet 
 cousin, for my rude liberty at the Queen's Arms. 
 Seeing you unattended, I did not presume you to be 
 a gentlewoman ; which is the poor excuse I have to 
 offer." 
 
 " It is well always to carry the manners of a true 
 nobleman," said Constance. "If I had been none 
 other than a peasant girl, I should have been equally 
 affrighted. A true knight should shelter loneliness." 
 
 " Bravely said ! You are plain of speech," returned 
 Lord D'Arcy, "but do you deny me grace for my 
 fault?" 
 
 "I gladly grant a pardon which you are generous 
 enough to seek." 
 
 " Thank you. And now, how well does the play 
 touch your fancy ? " 
 
 " 1 am dazzled. Yet the play speaks falsely." 
 
 " How now ! Those characters are to the life, if 
 you will permit me to differ." 
 
 " They make a jest of all that is honest and sacred. 
 I wonder no more that the Protector forbids the plays." 
 
 " You are a Puritan." 
 
 "Not knowingly. But I remember my father 
 burned the writings of Shakspeare, and forbid my 
 brother to go to the plays at Whitefriars when he 
 came to London. Doubtless I inherit his prejudices.*' 
 
 "I blame none for burning Shakspeare's writings, 
 replied Lord D'Arcy. " He was a dull fellow too
 
 260 COXSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 heavy for my liking. But this play, modelled equally 
 after the Italian and French drama, pleases nie well." 
 
 " I cannot choose, knowing nothing of either," 
 said Constance. The curtains being now drawn for. a 
 new act, Lord D'Arcy resumed his place at Lady 
 Alice's side. As the play proceeded, Constance lis 
 tened with greater aversion, and at last with indigna 
 tion, even to tears. 
 
 " Let us go hence," whispered she to Lady Grey. 
 
 " What ! in tears ? " was the reply. '" Fie ! Your 
 delicacy should not be shocked at such foolish trifles. 
 Alice does not regard it. See bow merry she is over 
 the actor's buffoonery ! We should draw all eyes upon 
 us in leaving. Take pleasure in the music, and close 
 your ears to the rest, if it seems ill to yon There is 
 but one more act." 
 
 There was nothing to do but endure quietly to the 
 end. Constance rejoiced to escape at last. But, again 
 at home, she could not sleep, even in the stillness of 
 her own chamber. The music bewildered her senses. 
 Some of the sweetest airs plaintively repeated them 
 selves in her imagination. She was eager for the 
 morning, that she might reproduce them upon the 
 organ. How could Aunt Deborah condemn such 
 heavenly music apart from the play. But the play ! 
 The curtains swept back, and the actors reappeared. 
 How vividly the words came back ; the beautiful, the 
 false, the mean and low vexing her spirit ! The 
 strangeness of the scene, the masked ladies, the showy 
 cavaliers, the sense of danger and disobedience that 
 had agitated her, came in rapid review ; and last of
 
 COXSTAKCE AYLMER. 201 
 
 all, Lord D'Arcy's self-congratulations that the Pro 
 tector and the Roundheads had enough to divert them 
 from discovering this infringement of an ordinance, 
 
 CJ O / 
 
 filled her with self-reproach. Was not Cromwell 
 wearying his burdened heart with efforts to raise 
 England to purity, to greatness and godliness ? And 
 were not his efforts mocked to night ? He was right 
 to condemn the amusement. She had heard with her 
 own cars, and seen with her own eyes, enough to know 
 that noble men and women could not grow in such 
 an atmosphere. But the music ! Did the Lord Pro 
 tector forbid that ? She would ask to-morrow ; and 
 she began softly humming the sweet airs, and so fell 
 asleep. 
 
 In the morning, when Rose came to assist her, she 
 said, 
 
 " Rose, you may stay when I am dressed, and we 
 will have our morning devotions together. I have no 
 Aunt Deborah here to give me counsel, so I must ask 
 my good Father in heaven to lead me all day." 
 
 "I 'specs you need him here, my lady.'' 
 
 " And you also, Rose." 
 
 When Constance, late in the morning, found her 
 aunt in the boudoir, she was cheerfully saluted. 
 
 " I am pleased to see you so fully recovered from 
 your ill mood last evening; You slept well ? " asked 
 Lady Grey. 
 
 " Sweetly, when once asleep, thank you." 
 
 " That is well. Sound sleep preserves youth. Let 
 me caution you not to ruffle your face with sad tears, 
 as yesterday evening. Weeping dims the eyes. Let
 
 262 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 me smooth your eyebrow, my dear. You should be 
 watchful not to let them grow astray. They are 
 prettily arched. You must cultivate your beauty." 
 
 " Thank yon !" replied Constance, blushing slight 
 ly. " But it would seem to me odd and awkward to 
 have a care of my eyebrows and wrinkles." 
 
 "My dear, the countenance grows awry from in 
 attention, often. One eyebrow lifts itself beyond the 
 other, or the mouth sometimes smiles unequally, with 
 out thought bestowed upon it." 
 
 " I fear I should never smile if I put my thoughts 
 upon the doing of it," said Constance, laughing, and 
 hiding her pretty mouth and pearly teeth behind her 
 handkerchief, as if to shield herself from criti 
 cism. 
 
 "' Did Lady Moody never recommend these im 
 portant trifles to your notice ?" 
 
 " She never told me how to carry my face, but I 
 have often heard her say, ' Lord, keep the door of my 
 mouth,' by which I am certain she thought more of 
 the matter than the manner of her utterance." 
 
 " Is she grown old and withered ? " 
 
 " I thought her face smooth and pure and gen 
 tle." 
 
 " So is my mother's," remarked Lady Alice. 
 
 " Yes," replied Constance, hesitating ; " but I 
 think it was her soul that shone through. She never 
 wore a frown, though her cares were sometimes heavy." 
 
 " Doubtless she learned to command her counte 
 nance when young," said Lady Grey. 
 
 "It seems to me rather the controlling of her
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEB. 263 
 
 heart. She used to say, ' Out of the heart are the issues 
 of life ;' and I believe she kept it so well, that out of 
 that came the heavenly content in her face." 
 
 "Tour love is very dutiful to say so much," re 
 turned Lady Grey. " Yet I can teach you to carry 
 such a face, be your soul ever so stormy." 
 
 " You need to begin soon, mamma," said Lady 
 Alice. " It was only last night that Lord D'Arcy 
 said my cousin's face was a telltale of all that goes on 
 underneath it." 
 
 " What am I to do with my face ? " asked Con 
 stance, embarrassed. " 1 would rather be condemned 
 to put it under a mask, as last night, than to think con 
 tinually how it ought to look." 
 
 " Society does not like to witness emotion, except 
 it be a pretty vivacity," said Lady Grey. "You 
 should cultivate perfect repose of countenance and 
 manner. A little undercurrent of thought bestowed 
 upon this need not interfere with one's ease." Con 
 stance drew a deep sigh. 
 
 " I thought it needful to forget one's self in order 
 to be agreeable." 
 
 " To forget one's own comfort for others' sake is, 
 doubtless, the essence of politeness. But it is another 
 thing to sit a critic on your own countenance. Such 
 a remembrance of yourself is harmless." 
 
 "You would take away a large pleasure from 
 life," returned Constance. " It is sweet to read the 
 countenance of a friend. But where would be the 
 reading, if we become walking statues ? I love rather 
 the soulful faces of the Manhattan, than the ccmnte-
 
 204 COXSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 jellj, bread-crumbs into puddings, and making soup 
 from bare bones, was marvellous. Yet she was a re 
 ligious, not a miserly economist. She was conscien 
 tious in her stewardship, rendering exact accounts to 
 her employer, and what she saved by her self-denials 
 was freely bestowed upon the comfort of others. Her 
 gifts were necessarily small, and her sphere narrow. 
 Their very smallness gave rigidity to her thoughts and 
 ways. The incoming of a new mistress like Elsie was 
 a shock to all her notions and habits, and no wonder 
 if she stood dismayed at the revolution in the affairs 
 of the honse on her arrival. 
 
 " Take away the joint-stools from the chimney-cor 
 ner, and fill the gaping fireplace with holly branches. 
 It looks like the grave of departed Yule-logs," said 
 Elsie, frowning, when she had surveyed the chief 
 apartment. " I will have silk hangings too, and not 
 chintz." 
 
 Mordaunt was besieged for the alterations, and 
 yielded. During a few weeks, every room was in a 
 turmoil. No sooner was one at the point of comple 
 tion than Elsie would suggest something new, pull 
 down all she had done, and begin over again. To do 
 this, she levied all the forces possible. She possessed 
 the peculiar talent of impressing everybody who came 
 near, into her service, and keeping every soul of them 
 in nervous haste with their task. The task given was 
 not often rightly appointed. She was quite sure to 
 cut the tapestry too short, and summon her helper to 
 take it down and lengthen it, or order a dresser 
 too large for its place, and refuse to accept its clumsi-
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 205 
 
 ness. After an apartment was duly settled, she was 
 quite likely to feel its narrowness, and conceive the 
 bright idea of tearing down a partition, or building an 
 " addition." But it could not take forever to com 
 plete so small a dwelling. To keep it in order when 
 finished, was quite another affair. For this, Elsie had 
 no talent. She left it to Experience, and turned her 
 energies to the entire remaking of the garden. And 
 poor Experience strove in- vain to keep the chairs in 
 prim rows, sighed to see Mordaunt's costly books ly 
 ing upon the floor precisely where Elsie had dropped 
 them, or stood amaze.d to see her dresses tumbled on 
 the chair, and her pretty boots flung across the room 
 when they had happened to pinch. And who can 
 imagine Experience's horror at seeing Elsie's spools 
 of thread rolling hither and thither at the mercy of a 
 playful kitten, or wound inextricably with tangled 
 yarn, when she had stooped her lame back many a 
 time to save a bit a few inches long ? "What could 
 she do but grumble, and look after this spoiled child ? 
 
 When Elsie had exhausted the garden and the 
 temper of the gardener, she took a capricious whim 
 to invade Experience's kingdom. 
 
 " Did you ever taste an oly-koek?" she asked, 
 one day. 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Then I will make some this minute ! " 
 
 " Not to-day," plead Experience. " I cannot 
 serve you well to-day." 
 
 "But I feel precisely like it," returned Elsie. It 
 was not possible to turn her from what she chose to
 
 266 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 like yourself, but she blesses all around her in quiet 
 ness. Her works, not her words, speak for her." 
 
 "Does she not listen to the teachings of the 
 Spirit?" 
 
 " Truly she does, but not in your fashion. You 
 oppose yourself to the laws, and use your faith and 
 strength to support yourself under the penalties. 
 Why not rather use it in a gracious, lawful, womanly 
 way, among those you naturally reach in your daily 
 life ; and your daily life would preach to witnesses 
 better than your lips to strangers." 
 
 "Art thou an angel of light, or an angel of dark 
 ness ? " asked Mary, tremulously. 
 
 " I love the same Jesus whom you desire so much 
 to serve," said Constance, smiling. " I can give you 
 no other proof of what manner of person 1 am, except 
 that for His sake, and for the sake of her who is as 
 my mother, I love you enough to lead you out of 
 persecution. Come, let us go." 
 
 And Mary Collins suffered herself to be led away 
 as one in a dream.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEB. 267 
 
 XXII. 
 
 were looking for you," said Lady Alice, 
 -when Constance returned. " My mother had ordered 
 the coach for a drive, but it may please you 'better to 
 see Hyde Park after we dine. Parliament sits till one 
 of the clock, and later, you may meet some of the 
 members riding or walking there with their families 
 for recreation." 
 
 Accordingly, that afternoon Lord Grey's hand 
 some coach was rolling toward Hyde Park, with a 
 lively stream of other equipages and pedestrians. 
 Some spectators who had assembled near the gates, 
 and were unable to pay the high admission, consoled 
 themselves with gaping at those who entered, or tor 
 mented themselves in contrasting their own hardships 
 with the lolling ease of those who rode by, and their 
 own poor garments with the delicate or showy lux 
 uriance of the mounted cavaliers, or the occupants of 
 the cushioned coaches : Levellers, some of them per 
 haps, whose hopes of distributing this world's goods 
 equally among all men, had been extinguished in the- 
 bud by a prompt quietus from Cromwell. Lady Grey 
 scarcely bestowed a glance upon these. Passing in, 
 she bade the coachman drive along the wide avenue. 
 He had not driven far, when forced to turn aside for 
 the coming of the Lord Protector, at the head of his 
 Life-Guards.
 
 268 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 "He was so grand and bold a man at the head of 
 his army, that I am glad to behold him first riding in 
 gallant state with his Ironsides," said Constance, 
 eagerly listening to the increasing sound of hoofs, and 
 the warlike clatter and jingle of military accoutre 
 ments. In a moment the Lord Protector was in sight, 
 and, in the intense gaze of a few seconds, Constance, 
 saw a massive, vigorous military figure, with stern, 
 care-worn face dash by, and, after him, his eighty 
 guards in grey. 
 
 "What think you of his escort in grim grey?" 
 asked her ladyship. 
 
 " So plain habit is in keeping with his principles, 
 and therefore in better taste than scarlet and gold 
 lace," answered Constance. "But I supposed he 
 appeared in public without state." 
 
 "He did formerly. The many plots against his 
 life have persuaded him to more caution. He always 
 rides now at the head of a body of horse or in a state 
 coach, which better befits the ruler of England." 
 
 " Those soldiers love to attend their brave General, 
 do they not ? " said Constance, her face still glowing 
 with enthusiasm for her hero. 
 
 " Doubtless they do," replied her aunt, scornfully. 
 " Cromwell knows how to play upon the hearts of his 
 soldiers." 
 
 " Do you count him a hypocrite ? " asked Constance, 
 amazed. 
 
 " Do not open your eyes so widely, my dear. You 
 need to carry this morning's counsels with you. No ; 
 I will not venture to brand him a hypocrite, as some
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 269 
 
 do, but he could never have climbed so high without 
 skilful use of Puritanism." 
 
 "I shall appeal from you to Lord Grey," said 
 Constance, half playfully, half in earnest. 
 
 " Or to Lord Huntington," replied her aunt with 
 a bland smile of recognition, as the person named 
 reined in his horse beside the yet waiting carriage. 
 
 " A fair day this, Lady Grey," said a full, manly 
 voice. Constance instantly recognized it as that 
 which had so charmed her ear a day or two before. 
 She looked inquiringly at him, and was not disap 
 pointed to see a broad-chested, noble-faced man, habit 
 ed in plain grey welted with black. He controlled 
 the restless animal upon which he sat, with an easy 
 horsemanship that signified a tranquil nature. He 
 lifted his plumed hat slightly to Lady Alice, and bent 
 his earnest eyes upon Constance, as he was told that 
 she had lately arrived from the American settle 
 ments. 
 
 " Is it possible that you have performed that weary 
 voyage? I shall wish to learn somewhat from you of 
 New Amsterdam." 
 
 " She will likewise wish to learn much from you 
 of the Protector, whose cause I wonder to see her 
 espouse so determinedly. She but just threatened to 
 appeal from me to Lord Grey. You will be a better 
 champion." 
 
 " I should value the office, madam. But the wise 
 deeds of such a man are better champions than the 
 best of friends." 
 
 " His deeds need a friendly interpreter," said Con-
 
 270 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 stance. Lord Huntington smiled as he glanced from 
 her to her aunt, and, after promising an early visit, 
 bowed and left them, turning with an earnest look at 
 Constance, as he rode away. 
 
 As the coach now rumbled along, Constance was 
 diverted with the beauty of the Park, the deep shade 
 of the trees, the silvery sheet of water, or was attract 
 ed by the lively passers or the approach of some 
 distinguished friend. 
 
 " There is the Lady Protectress and her daughters," 
 said Lady Alice, in time for Constance to perceive in 
 a passing coach, a dignified, plain woman, and two 
 young ladies elegantly dressed in a style not Puri 
 tanic ; the one a solid English girl, the other slight, 
 with firm lips and animated eyes. 
 
 " Mary is so cautious and reserved that I like her 
 less than Frances," said Lady Alice. 
 
 u "Which was Frances ? " asked Constance. 
 
 " The slighter of the two. She has a pretty will 
 of her own which becomes the daughter of Cromwell," 
 continued Lady Alice, laughingly. 
 
 " It becomes no daughter to outwit her parents," 
 said her mother quietly. " Mr. Rich, being the grand 
 son of the Earl of Warwick, is a worthy match for 
 any, and doubtless it was the cupidity of the Protector 
 that hindered it." 
 
 " I heard the settlement was only hindered because 
 her father thought Mr. Rich a worldly man and given 
 to play. She resented it as false, and plighted herself 
 to her lover in so solemn a vow, that the Protector 
 dared not force her to break it. She is betrothed now
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 271 
 
 with her father's consent. Darling Lady Frances ! " 
 said Lady Alice aside to Constance. 
 
 " Yonr father told me the Protector was not pleased 
 with Lord "Warwick's offer of the estate." 
 
 " Pray, my dear mother, do not spoil my praises 
 of Frances' good spirit. Besides, if you will once let 
 me defend our Ruler, he is too generous for his own 
 gain, as I have heard it said. And that is all that I 
 find pleasing in him. When Parliament yoted him an 
 annual income of 1,600, did he not give 1,000 year 
 ly to provide for the war, and forgive all the debt they 
 owed him for Avar service and for his governorship of 
 the Isle of Ely?" 
 
 " A salve for his conscience, after the Irish mas 
 sacre ? " said Lady Grey, with compressed lips, and 
 more fire in her eyes than she often permitted there. 
 
 "It happened before the Irish war, my dear 
 mother," persisted Lady Alice. 
 
 " Drop the subject ! " commanded the indignant 
 mother. " Let me hear no more of the usurper, who 
 holds the throne of our murdered king. Neither 
 should you be so much a parvenu as to correct an 
 elder; much more your mother." For once, Lady 
 Grey's face was flushed with passion ; but she quickly 
 resumed her bland smile and calm voice, and bowed 
 graciously to passing friends. Lady Alice did not 
 recover from the rebuke till they left the Park and 
 drove to the shops, where the merchant-men paced 
 up and down, crying, 
 
 " What d'ye lack, madam ? What d'ye lack ? " 
 
 " These poor men must wax weary before they
 
 272 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 sell all their wares," said Constance, laughing at the 
 clamorous efforts of several to attract Lady Grey's 
 notice. She, however, called one to the coach, and 
 gave her orders for certain costly goods to be sent 
 home for inspection. 
 
 The next morning these goods arrived, and were 
 opened in the boudoir, where already a French 
 modiste was fashioning some delicate materials for 
 Alice's betrothal. Lady Grey unfolded a rich buff 
 silk, which she commended strongly to Constance for 
 purchase. 
 
 "It is the chosen color of the season," said she. 
 " Even the gravest cavaliers sport it. At the presenta 
 tion of the Swedish ambassador, Sir Thomas Fairfax 
 wore a buff-coat, ornamented with silver lace; the 
 sleeves slashed with white satin. The color would befit 
 your complexion." 
 
 "Its splendor might well become a woman of 
 state," said Constance, timidly. " I should feel bet 
 ter expressed in this quiet pearl-color." 
 
 " Delicate as a wood-violet," said Lady Alice. 
 
 " You should wear something more striking at 
 your first appearance," said Lady Grey. "Pearls 
 would contrast charmingly with this warm color." 
 And she tossed the gay folds across the back of a 
 chair, to deepen the shadows. 
 
 " I should feel ill at ease in anything that chal 
 lenges the eye," returned Constance. " I am ashamed 
 to combat your perfect taste, my dear aunt ; but this 
 gentle pearl-color wins my wishes." 
 
 " Que pensez-vous, Annette?"
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 273 
 
 " Ah ! Madame, les robes sont magnifiques I'une et 
 Vautre /" answered the frightened modiste, " mats la 
 modestie est aimable" she added. Lady Alice clapped 
 her little hands. 
 
 " Quand la Parisienne l?a dit, il faut que nous 
 obeissions" she cried. 
 
 "Not so brusque, my dear," said her mother. 
 "My dear," from her lips, always meant reproof. 
 " The paler silk has less lustre, and therefore flatters 
 the complexion. You chose wisely," she continued, 
 turning to Constance. "A set of opals will complete 
 a charming toilet. Here are some jewels Ashley 
 sent this morning for my inspection. These opals 
 are worthy of your possession. Only 50 ! " Con 
 stance looked at them, as her aunt laid the beautiful 
 necklace and ear-rings against the silk. She shook 
 her head slowly. 
 
 " I have well-set pearls which will serve me." 
 
 " Tour purse is ample to supply these." 
 
 " I would limit my jewels in accordance with my 
 estate, that other needs may not be cramped." Con 
 stance was thinking of Mary Collins when she said 
 this. 
 
 "But many noble ladies," returned Lady Grey, 
 " think it not ill to spend half-a-year's income on 
 jewels ! " 
 
 " Yet Aunt Deborah once told me that the pos 
 session of more jewels than my just need, is hiding 
 the Lord's money ; and that an honest and high taste 
 should limit me to such as befit my estate. She 
 thought that no queen ever made so sweet a use of 
 12*
 
 274 CONSTANCE AYLMEB. 
 
 her ornaments as Queen Isabella, when she yielded 
 her crown-jewels to the poor, dejected Genoese, that 
 he might have wherewith to search the unknown seas 
 for a new world." 
 
 " Lady Moody's rules of life accord well with that 
 new country in which she lives/' remarked Lady 
 Grey, with the blandest patience. " In London, one 
 needs to loosen so pious restraints. A year with me 
 will soften such austerities in you, my dear." 
 
 Constance was silent, and wondered when she re 
 turned to her own room why she so continually found 
 herself in opposition to her aunt. 
 
 u Am I grown willful ? - I yielded always to Aunt 
 Deborah. She appealed to something within me that 
 ever approved her tender reproofs. Lady Grey ap 
 peals to another nature. Is it the outward ? Does 
 she desire to train my outer life, and so entice the 
 inner life to conform to that ? Does she mean thus 
 to soften my austerities? Are these opinions auster 
 ities ? Do not Aunt Deborah's gentle and noble teach 
 ings hold good in any land, among any people? Any 
 people? Any godly people! Perhaps that is it." 
 Constance felt perplexed, sad, distrustful of herself. 
 She stood a long time looking from the broad win 
 dow upon the winding Thames and the green mead 
 ows beyond, yet scarcely thinking of the pleasant 
 scene. 
 
 " It is so difficult to know right and wrong," said 
 she to herself. "At Moody Hall, I often felt myself 
 a worldling ; here, I am esteemed a bigot. Prejudice, 
 custom, training, blind us so that none see clearly.
 
 CONSTANCE ATLMER. 275 
 
 Why should I assume so fine a state as to make others 
 believe I possess great riches ? Should I wear a lie 
 that I would scorn to speak ? And be compelled to 
 add another thereto when some sufferer appeals to my 
 heart, and I must say, ' Go thy way, I have nothing to 
 give thee ? ' Truly I am not wrong to limit myself 
 for others' sake. Am I not safe also to follow those 
 ways which seem to me upright and pure, even though 
 one tells me I should renounce everything in this 
 beautiful world and walk heavenward with solemn 
 steps, while another ridicules me as a bigot and a Pu 
 ritan because I weep at impure words, and do not 
 delight in jewels ? One learns here to distrust one's 
 self. There are so many vigorous fighters of as many 
 faiths ! The Friends, the Levellers, the Presbyterians, 
 Fifth-Monarchy men, the Papists, the Episcopalians, 
 each clamorously condemning all the rest. I would 
 that I understood them all. I crave some help to 
 know even myself. There is one Friend whom I 
 can ask, and his word will tell me how I can carry 
 myself, yet it would be sweet to have a mother's coun 
 sels or a father's strong guidance besides." 
 
 Constance felt isolated. She might have found 
 comfort in talking with Lord Grey, but he was rarely 
 at home. Parliament had sat during the past two or 
 three days from eight in the morning till eight at 
 night, and when released from these long debatings, he 
 seemed too painfully perplexed for her to intrude a 
 question. On the Sabbath, she went with him and 
 Sir Henry to the Abbey Church to hear Mr. Goodwin. 
 Lady Grey had always remained at home since the
 
 276 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 rifling of the cathedrals, choosing to pay the fine for 
 absence rather than worship without bishops, liturgy, 
 or chants. As they passed Whitehall Palace, Lord 
 Grey remarked to Sir Henry that the Council of State 
 would sit to day, which boded some sharp events. 
 
 " Parliament," said he, " has debated furiously the 
 entire week whether the government shall rest in a 
 Single Person and Parliament, leaving rightful busi 
 ness untouched. His Highness is roused, and I doubt 
 not prepared to dissolve so refractory a body." 
 
 " I thought the Protector would not permit state 
 business on the Sabbath," said Constance. 
 
 "It is his maxim that, in extraordinary cases, 
 something extraordinary may be done, and that the 
 moral laws in such cases may be set aside," replied 
 Lord Grey. 
 
 " He is less strict than I believed," said Constance. 
 "Why does he countenance so formal observance of 
 the day ? My aunt calls it gloomy bigotry to force 
 all to carry themselves with equal sobriety." Lord 
 Grey turned and smiled at Constance in a fatherly way. 
 
 " You were not released from Atherton Hall, my 
 child, before the Puritans had sway, else you would 
 not ask it. As long as Kings and Queens and Bishops 
 ruled, the Sabbath was no better observed than in 
 a heathen country. Court balls and masquerades 
 diverted the nobility, and the common people cried 
 their goods or had morris-dances and church-ales." 
 
 " What are church-ales ? " 
 
 " Pastimes and dances after sermon in the church 
 yard or at the ale-houses, where the people drank lus-
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 277 
 
 tily and gave bountiful alms for the beautifying of the 
 churches with pictures and images. These benevo 
 lent revelries were named church- ales. The minis 
 ters were compelled by King James and his bishops 
 to read from the pulpits what was called the ' Book 
 of Sports' a declaration of His Majesty authorizing 
 these Sabbath sports. If they refused, they were de 
 posed from their sacred office and even imprisoned. 
 Such as these found their way to New England for 
 conscience' sake. These revelries, made lawful, took 
 so strong hold upon the people that they could not af 
 terward be restrained except by laws made continually 
 more stringent. Now, all are compelled to remain at 
 home in quietness, or listen to such preaching as they 
 will on the Sabbath." 
 
 " Is there any other than Puritan preaching ? " 
 
 " Yes. Yarious sects have their liberty, in so far 
 as they do not disturb the peace or rant against the 
 government. His Highness says it is his ' only wish 
 that all would gather into one sheep-fold, under one 
 shepherd, Jesus Christ, and love one another.' In 
 this, he allows liberty of conscience to all." 
 
 " Except Papists," added Sir Henry. 
 
 " Yes," continued Lord Grey, " except Deists, Pa 
 pists, and Episcopalians, who are now but Papists in 
 the germ, and too hostile to the government to have 
 liberty in any wise. Indeed, we were all Episcopalians 
 once ; the excesses of Archbishop Laud forcing us 
 into popery and denying our liberty, caused us to re 
 bound to the simplicities of the early Christians, as in 
 Luther's day."
 
 278 COXSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 " Do the Friends, the Anabaptists, and Fifth-Mon 
 archy men have all the liberty they desire in worship ?" 
 
 " They all have liberty, so they do but keep the 
 peace and not plant seditions. Such as will disturb 
 the worship of others are justly imprisoned." 
 
 " The Lord Protector then is not the bigot his en 
 emies cry him to be," said Constance, with animated 
 interest. 
 
 " Far from it. The Friends promise him the 
 wrath of God because he will not pull down the 
 steeple-houses and silence ministers, and the Fifth- 
 Monarchy men desire him to destroy all government 
 and make way for King Jesus and his reign of a 
 thousand years, while the Presbyterians would coerce 
 him to forbid all sects but their own. He yields to 
 the persuasion of none, but cries, ' Liberty of conscience 
 to all." 
 
 They had arrived at the door of the church, and 
 the conversation ceased ; but Constance had learned 
 enough to stir her thoughts into new life. This, with 
 the beauty of the cathedral, so vast and unique to her 
 novice eyes, absorbed her till nearly half the service 
 had passed like a dream. Its length began to subdue 
 her enthusiasm, and enabled her at last to listen to the 
 severe rebukes and patriotic entreaties of the minister 
 for the speedy settling of the affairs of the nation. 
 Sir Henry sat restless, and wondered that the troubled 
 members of Parliament bore so much. Lord Grey 
 looked downcast, and sighed often and deeply. 
 
 At the end of the service, he told Constance he 
 desired to speak to Mr. Goodwin, and she might await
 
 CONSTANCE A.TLMEK. 279 
 
 him in the aisle if she would. Lord Huntington 
 lingered also after the people had gone out. He carne 
 to ask Constance if she had been within the cathedral 
 before. 
 
 " I have not," she replied. " It seems to me too 
 magnificent in itself to need the adornments of pictures 
 and images, which Lady Grey mourns so plaintively." 
 
 "Yet some of those paintings might have well 
 adorned a palace." 
 
 " Why were such destroyed ? " 
 
 " There was no need. There should have been a 
 more judicious destruction. But they were swept 
 away with all decorations that courted idolatrous 
 worship. Many ancient windows were defaced or 
 destroyed also, because some ignorant people worship 
 ed the representations of Deity painted thereon. 
 Years ago, in one of the windows of St. Edmunds, in 
 Salisbury, were seven pictures of God the Father in 
 form of a little old man in a blue and red coat, with 
 a pouch by his side ; one represented him creating the 
 sun, moon, and stars with a pair of compasses, and 
 others as performing the remaining work of creation. 
 In the last, he was seated in an elbow-chair at rest.* 
 This window was broken when the Puritans were first 
 struggling for power. They have but lately com 
 pleted such breakings." 
 
 " I believed they broke such ancient windows be 
 cause of the gay adornment only. I wonder now no 
 longer," said Constance. 
 
 * Neal's Puritans. Vol. 1, p. 307.
 
 280 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 " Then you will not at the destruction of the 
 images," continued Lord Huntington. " In the Cathe 
 dral of Durham was a stone statue of Christ with a 
 golden beard, a blue cap and sun-rays on his head, 
 and in others were images of the Yirgin. These had 
 all been set up since the time of Queen Elizabeth, and 
 it was in accordance with the spirit of the Reforma 
 tion to cast them out as popish innovations." 
 
 "It was then more the spirit of reform than of 
 intolerance that moved the decrees," said Constance, 
 thoughtfully. "But,"' she added, looking up and 
 blushing slightly as she found Lord H. studying her 
 face, " but the music why condemn that which calls 
 up only heavenly emotion ? " 
 
 " I cannot furnish you with so reasonable reasons 
 against music. It was first proposed that ' music be 
 framed with less curiosity, and that no anthems be 
 used where ditties are framed by private men.' Later, 
 the organs were taken down, and the singing-men 
 dismissed, in order to return to the simple form used 
 by the early churches." 
 
 "And does the Protector forbid instrumental 
 music always, as do the Friends? " 
 
 "His Highness is fond of music," answered Lord 
 Huntington, smiling. "He has furnished fine voices 
 and instruments at the cock-pit, for the entertainment 
 of his friends ; and he does not refuse to go sometimes 
 to Coleman's Music House." 
 
 " He is not then the austere man I had pictured. 
 I shall mingle love with the profound reverence in 
 which I hold him," said Constance with a bright
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 281 
 
 smile and a feeling of pleasure in listening to his 
 praises. There was something in the voice that spoke 
 these praises, too, that touched her. She recalled it 
 after they went out and parted at the church-door, 
 and thought as she rode silently home that when she 
 met him again, she would study what that was to 
 which she listened as to a strain of music, although 
 his tones were not musical. 
 
 The next evening it was rumored that the Pro 
 tector had sent to the Lord Mayor to look to the peace 
 of the city, and had summoned Parliament to attend 
 him. The following day all London was moved at 
 the coup d'etat by which Cromwell brought turbulent 
 members under his control. 
 
 " Parliament is dissolved, or somewhat like it ! " 
 exclaimed Sir Henry, coming in at evening from a 
 drive with Lord D'Arcy. 
 
 "So our lion is roaring again," laughed Lady 
 Alice. 
 
 " His Highness, as he has done once before, caused 
 the mace to be taken away, the doors to be locked, a 
 guard of soldiers to be stationed there those Ironsides, 
 ready always to do his bidding and summoned the 
 members to attend him in the Painted Chamber. He 
 there delivered a speech most amazing for what it 
 contained, and, above all, for that with which it ended." 
 
 Lady Grey waited with lip already curled with 
 suppressed scorn. As Sir Henry teazingly withheld 
 further information, she said, 
 
 " I wait to hear you say Cromwell lias proclaimed 
 himself kino; \ "
 
 282 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 "Not that, though his act was kingly," replied Sir 
 Henry, stroking the long plumes of his hat still in his 
 hand. At this moment Lord Huntington was an 
 nounced. " Here is one, having been present, can 
 make it known to you better than I," added Sir 
 Henry. 
 
 Constance was happy at his timely arrival, and 
 after Lady Grey had met him in her stately way, he 
 turned to her and saw the bright flush of welcome in 
 her face. 
 
 " You will interpret the Protector to us this even 
 ing, will you not ? " she asked, in a low voice. 
 
 " Gladly. You have heard of his characteristic 
 proceedings ? " said he, taking a seat beside Lady 
 Grey. 
 
 " Sir Henry has shadowed something," replied the 
 latter. " We would know the ominous ending." 
 
 " Not ominous, but bright promising the speedy 
 settlement his Highness so much desires," returned 
 Lord H., looking at Constance. " He claimed that 
 Parliament had no right to discuss his authority, 
 .which came from the people. He quickly settled by 
 a skilful stroke that which has been fiercely discussed 
 since we assembled, with no promise of corning to an 
 end. He summoned all to sign a writing recognizing 
 him as Lord Protector, and promising not to alter the 
 government as it stands in a single person and Parlia 
 ment. Let me repeat what he said when he offered 
 it. ' This,' said he, * doth determine the controversy I 
 I have caused a stop to be put to your entrance into 
 the Parliament House. This only will let you in. I
 
 CONSTANCE ATLMEE. 283 
 
 am sorry, sorry, sorry to the death, that there is 
 cause for this. But there is cause.' ' : 
 
 " He will not permit the people to alter the gov 
 ernment, then ! " said Lady Grey, slightly elevating 
 her eyebrows with amazement, 
 
 " He refuses to allow Parliament to do thus with 
 out consent of the people. ' I can sooner be willing 
 to be rolled into my grave and buried with infamy, 
 than I can give my consent unto,' he said. And you 
 should have witnessed the metal of his frame while 
 speaking. He stood nobler than a Roman before us, 
 Madam." 
 
 " I see, in all that, only that he holds the authority 
 of a king he who was once but a country gentle 
 man, and an ill-looking one at that ! " exclaimed Lady 
 Grey, indignantly. " It is the crown he looks to, and 
 will yet put upon his own brow." 
 
 " You do not know the majestic soul of Oliver 
 Cromwell," replied Lord Huntington, sadly. " He 
 could have grasped the crown before this, if he had so 
 chosen. You do not know the soul of his schemes 
 for England." 
 
 " I believe it to be crafty ambition that moves 
 him," said Lady Grey, bitterly. 
 
 " Ah, Madam, none so blind as they who will 
 not see. His schemes do not admit of kingship. His 
 efforts are against hereditary government, for ' who 
 (he well says) can tell if he shall beget a wise man 
 or a fool.' He has often said he ' would have, men 
 chosen for their love to God, and to Truth and 
 Justice.' He would model our government after that
 
 284 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 form given by God to the Jews, and inclines to be 
 lieve these are the last days which are to usher in the 
 millennium. He says, most nobly, in justifying his 
 acceptance of the Protectorship, thus : ' Concerning 
 that promise in Isaiah that God would give Rulers as 
 at the first, and Judges as at the beginning, I did not 
 know but that God might now begin ; and though 
 at present with a most unworthy person, yet as to 
 the future it might be after this manner ; and I 
 thought this ' (his protectorship) ' might usher it in ! ' "* 
 
 " Fanaticism ! " said Lady Grey, scornfully. " He 
 is not far behind the Levellers, who would hasten the 
 millennium by putting all the world to planting the 
 earth with pulse. So he would sweep away the dis 
 tinctions of high birth, and reduce all to a common 
 level." 
 
 "It is quite true," returned Lord Huntington, 
 " that he would not have hereditary distinctions, but 
 those rather of a higher nature. He thinks, in due 
 time, to govern this kingdom through godly magis 
 trates." 
 
 " I see little prospect now of attaining so sublime 
 an end," said Sir Henry. 
 
 " In due time order will arise out of so much 
 warring. It is the hope of attaining this, that occa 
 sioned his high proceedings to-day. In watching 
 events in detail close at hand, you do not discover the 
 meaning of the confused picture of England. But 
 beyond the seas, mouarchs tremble and do homage to 
 
 * Carlyle's Cromwell. Speech IV.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 285 
 
 Oliver Cromwell as they behold the grand outlines 
 he has sketched, and is rapidly filling out with a firm 
 and skilful touch." 
 
 " You speak truly, Lord Huntington, when you 
 say we see the outline of his purpose better beyond 
 the sea than near at hand. I confess that I do here 
 but blindly understand the plans for settlement, and 
 in all that which I have heard His Highness speak, 
 he confesses that he walks much in the dark." 
 
 " He waits for Divine guidance," replied Lord 
 Huntington. " Have you not heard him call that 
 blasphemy which credits him or any man with the 
 contrivances and production of those mighty things 
 which God has wrought among us? 'Take heed,' 
 he says, 'how you judge of His revolutions as the 
 product of men's inventions ! ' He warns those who 
 count these great events the result of the craft of 
 statesmen or ' the cunning of the Lord -Protector,' to 
 have a care ' lest they vilify and lessen the works of 
 God, and rob him of His glory ! ' " 
 
 " I have never before thought of Cromwell as 
 waiting in uncertainty how to act," remarked Con 
 stance. " I believed he moved in the affairs of the 
 nation as at the head of his army, with a clear head 
 and quick will." 
 
 " True, Mistress Aylmer, when his decision is once 
 reached. As did Luther, so Cromwell prostrates him 
 self before God, with tears and striving of soul to know 
 His will. Such souls do not walk easily to greatness, 
 but step by step like little children ; fearing and 
 wavering till they feel the Eock underneath. It is the
 
 286 CONSTANCE, AYLMER. 
 
 unyielding firmness with which they stand when each, 
 sure step is taken, that causes us to rejoice in their 
 strength and forget how they attained it." 
 
 During the conversation, Constance had seen the 
 scornful lips of her aunt, the flash of her vexed spirit, 
 the fire of her angry eyes repressed with courtesy, yet 
 not hidden. "Even she, then, cannot hide a stormy 
 soul under a calm face, as she promised me to do," 
 thought Constance. But she forgot her in listening to 
 Lord Huntington, who spoke with enthusiastic warmth 
 after that morning scene in the Painted Chamber. It 
 gratified her to hear Cromwell's praises ; to see him 
 pictured generous, godly, large-minded, and strong- 
 souled by the noble man who stood before her; 
 pictured in words rounded by the clearest and most 
 perfect pronunciation, and voiced with that refined- 
 charm which she vividly felt, but had not yet analyzed. 
 And Lord Huntington was not unmoved by the trust 
 ing face that appealed to him at every sneer of Lady 
 Grey. Her sympathy and ardor inspired him too. It 
 was a pleasure to please her thus, a deep gratification 
 to teach one teachable, to satisfy her longings to dis 
 cover what was just and true. 
 
 " But let us rest now from this discussion," said he ; 
 "we each remain as strong in our own opinions as 
 when we began. I have no hope of making a Crom- 
 wellian of you, Madam ; and you," he continued, 
 turning to Constance, "need no conversion, as I per 
 ceive. Let us speak of that country whence you have 
 lately come. I would know something of Governor 
 Stuyvesant, of whom I have heard quaint things.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 287 
 
 Also of a former friend who went to Virginia, and 
 lately was engaged by the Governor to settle an affair 
 with our government. He was a cavalier of fine 
 accomplishments, only too proud for his misfortunes ; 
 by name, Edward Mordaunt." 
 
 A sharp heart-throb tortured Constance for a mo 
 ment, so that she could not speak at once. A deep 
 color mounted to her temples and then receded, leav 
 ing her pale as a lily. 
 
 "My cousin, Sir Henry, knows him well," she 
 answered at length, with a look of entreaty that he 
 would reply for her. Happily she sat in shadow. 
 Only the agitation of her voice and the frightened 
 expression of her face betrayed her. Lord Huntington 
 discovered it, and with generous tact received Sir 
 Henry's reply without further question, and turned 
 his inquiries upon Governor Stuyvesant. In the 
 amusing conversation that followed, Constance quickly 
 recovered her composure and reserved, for after reflec 
 tion, the strangeness of this rencounter. But it 
 brought Lord Huntington in unexpected and unwished 
 comparison with Edward Mordaunt. She found her 
 self persistently contrasting them so like in some 
 ways, so widely different in others. She remembered 
 the pettish tone in which Mordaunt had sometimes 
 chided her. She listened now and forgot every thing 
 while listening to discover what seemed so sweet in 
 this manly voice. And she found it ! It was the 
 tenderness in the falling intonations: an exquisite 
 tenderness, lost in his louder speech, but most touch 
 ing in natural tones. Constance was looking down,
 
 288 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 i 
 
 abstracted, her face all smiles with the enjoyment of 
 her discovery, when rallied to consciousness by Lady 
 Grey. 
 
 "I beg pardon, I was heeding your voice rather 
 than your words," said she, in reply to Lord Hunting- 
 ton. He smiled and repeated an unimportant question, 
 and after some other lively chat arose and went away. 
 In going, he promised himself to see her again soon. 
 She would wish to hear more of her hero. Besides, 
 he owed it to Lord Grey's friendship to contribute to 
 her enjoyment of the London season. Certainly ! 
 
 After his departure, Sir Henry told Constance of 
 his own intended return to America within a few days, 
 and of a new proposal to remove to Virginia, if his 
 mother could be so persuaded. Such prospects were 
 held out to him as strongly inclined him to accept the 
 change, as more favorable to his purse and to his am 
 bition than his lifeless occupations at Gravesend. His 
 speedy return was necessary to secure the offered posi 
 tion, and to win Lady Moody's consent to seek a new 
 home. It only remained for Constance to decide if 
 she would return with him or remain in London. 
 Lord Grey laid his commands upon her at once. He 
 should not allow her to leave his roof. He was her 
 proper guardian, and she was not of age. It was need 
 ful that she should know something of her estates, but 
 the road to Atherton Hall would be impassable in 
 winter. A coach and six could not proceed much 
 faster than one mije an hour, and it was a happy jour 
 ney when such an equipage did not upset or stick fast 
 in the mud. A pack-horse or the stage-wagon were
 
 OOXSTAXCE AYLMEK. . 289 
 
 safer modes of conveyance, but Constance would not 
 care to mount a pack -saddle between two baskets, nor 
 to crouch in the straw with a crowd of passengers in 
 the back of the stage-wagon. She must wait till the 
 next mid-summer. 
 
 Neither would Lady Grey permit her to go from 
 England now. She secretly counted on the pleasure 
 of transforming her into a London belle, and of 
 maneuvering an'estimable marriage. Now that Lady 
 Alice was provided for, she needed such occupation to 
 give zest to her enjoyment of the dulness of society. 
 Constance acquiesced 'in the decision to remain, and, 
 after weighing down Sir Henry's baggage with all 
 manner of tokens of her love for dear Aunt Deborah, 
 and not forgetting Chloe and Mingo, she allowed him 
 to depart with her final message that there was no 
 place on earth so sweet and peaceful as Moody Hall. 
 13
 
 290 CONSTANCE AYLMEB. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 A SELECT dinner-party met at Lord Grey's on one 
 of the pleasant autumn days, to celebrate the betrothal 
 of Lady Alice. Mother and daughter were resolute 
 to have a ceremonial use of the ring. For once, Lord 
 Grey was equally resolute. He would have no papist 
 ical forms or symbols with which to insult his Puritan 
 guests. Lord D'Arcy's family were there, stiif royal 
 ists, yielding outwardly to the inevitable course of 
 events, crouching only till this regime should pass 
 away. Flowing ' curls, lace ties and ruffles and 
 diamonds distinguished these. Stanch Puritans were 
 there also, in plain velvet hose, broad collars, and 
 russet-leather boots. Lady Alice was exquisitely 
 dressed in lace and silk, with flowing train and open 
 sleeves, her hair laid in coquettish curls across her low 
 forehead. She was full of pretty vivacity ; easy and 
 happy in being the observed of all eyes, and the envy 
 of both mothers and daughters ; thus publicly accept 
 ing Lord D'Arcy as her future husband in a graceful 
 condescending way, much as if he offered her a costly 
 bauble rather than the devotion of a full heart. Con 
 stance, in the midst of this aristocratic assemblage, 
 was like a soft gleam of moonlight in her delicate 
 robe, and in her reserved, slightly cold demeanor. If 
 she often met admiring eyes bent upon her, she did 
 not know it was for the sake of her winsome beauty,
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEB. 291 
 
 but believed they thought her that East Indiaman's 
 daughter of whom she had been told, or a strange 
 guest from across the sea. Unused to courtly ceremo 
 ny, she was afraid of committing some mistake, and 
 shrank from the criticisms of her aunt. She felt reas 
 sured, not flattered, when her aunt tapped her arm 
 lightly with her fan and whispered, 
 
 u Do not fear. I am justly proud of your entree.'' 1 
 
 After the simple ceremony of plighting, Lord 
 Grey led the way to the sumptuous dinner with the 
 mother of Lord D'Arcy, and, following this compli 
 ment to the royalists, Lady Grey, with delicate 
 homage to learning, selected the Puritan, John Mil 
 ton. Constance was consigned to Lord Hunting- 
 ton. 
 
 "When the noisy discussion of the palatable viands 
 sufficiently shielded her, she asked, 
 
 " "Who is the gentleman of so solemn demeanor 
 and so fine features, whom Lady Grey honored ? " 
 
 " John Milton, the learned Secretary for foreign 
 tongues. England owes much to him for the elo 
 quence and dignity he gives to the political dispatches. 
 He is blind and proceeds slowly, but the Lord Pro 
 tector values him too highly to permit his retirement." 
 
 " I wonder that you say he is bljncj. His eyes are 
 clear and serene." 
 
 l< Yet moving among men, he lives in the solitude 
 pf blindness. But solitude ripens a great man's soul. 
 He comforts hinjself with music and poetry. I have 
 fiften, in passing through Petty France, where he 
 Jives, heard him accompany his organ with his own
 
 292 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 psalms, which Henry Laws, who belonged to King 
 Charles' chapel, has set to flowing music." 
 
 " He is a poet, then ! " said Constance. " He car 
 ries an austere air for a poet." 
 
 " But he writes with delicacy as well as strength. 
 One never finds him coarse. He gives his ideal wo 
 men a dignity and high purity beyond any writer I 
 know. Witness even his drama, Comus." 
 
 " You speak in riddles," said Constance, timidly. 
 " I know nothing of Comus." 
 
 " I will dispatch to you his volume of sonnets, 
 plays, and psalms, written chiefly in his youth, and 
 published these ten years." 
 
 " And has he written a stage-play ? " asked Con 
 stance, as if she could not reconcile this with a good 
 man's role. 
 
 " Lord Huntington ! " laughingly exclaimed Lady 
 Alice, who sat at his right and overheard the last in 
 quiry, " Constance holds a horror for theatricals. She 
 went with us once to the play and condemned it 
 with tears. If you would possess her good will, you 
 must not recommend an entertainment so unsaint- 
 
 iy." 
 
 " The quality of the play, perhaps, distressed her," 
 he replied. " Mistress Constance will not condemn 
 Comus." Then seeing that she was sorry at having 
 been betrayed, he called her attention to the dish set 
 before them. It was a puff-paste hen, with wings 
 spread over a nest of eggs of like composition. 
 
 " A pretty conceit," said he. " And every egg 
 contains a fat nightingale, daintily cooked."
 
 CONSTAXCE AYLMEB. 293 
 
 " These birds sing too sweetly to suffer so poor a 
 fate," said Constance. 
 
 " Truly they do," replied Lord Huntington. " Mr. 
 Milton loves the nightingale. He says in 11 Pense- 
 roso, as you will see, 
 
 " Sweet bied, that shunn'st the noise of folly, 
 Most musical, most melancholy ! " 
 
 He will be indignant at the sacrifice, if he discovers 
 of what dish he partakes, and think it pitiful to be 
 stow upon the lower sense that which is able to ap 
 peal with so much sweetness to the higher." 
 
 Constance made no reply, for general conversation 
 had gradually ceased from interest in a topic discussed 
 by two or three. The ladies at length withdrew and 
 sipped coffee in the drawing-room. When the gentle 
 men rejoined them, Constance found Lord H. at her 
 side, and when he sauntered away to others, could 
 not fail to see that his eyes were sure to wander in 
 search of her. Before taking leave, he returned 
 again. 
 
 "I have just received a promise that Lady Gray 
 will accompany you and Lady Alice to study some 
 esteemed treasures of art which I brought from the 
 continent. Also you will find some satisfaction in the 
 fiowers to which I have given up my garden-house," 
 said he. Constance assented with both pleasure and 
 surprise, for she knew that he lived almost a hermit, 
 and that one rarely found entrance to his elegant 
 home, except at some stately dinner. 
 
 The next day, Kose brought to her mistress two
 
 294 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 volumes left for her inspection. One was Milton's 
 poems ; the other contained a few of Shakspeare's 
 plays. This last took her unawares. Should she 
 read it ? Had not her father long ago condemned it ? 
 Would she not be like Eve tasting of the forbidden 
 fruit ? Yet Lord Huntington had sent it, and he a 
 Puritan 1 He would not tempt her wrongly. She 
 opened it and glanced over a page, then laid it down 
 with fear, and took it up again resolutely, certain th,at 
 she could trust his judgment. Once opened, the book 
 was not closed till she had drank deeply all of Mac 
 beth, all of Hamlet. 
 
 A week or two later, Lady Grey proposed to 
 accept Lord Huntington's invitation. They found 
 him at home, ordering the removal of some plants to 
 his garden-house. He took them thither without cere 
 mony. The sweet perfume of orange-flowers filled 
 the rooms given up as a conservatory. Scentless 
 japonicas, rose-tinted cactus, and gorgeous foreign 
 flowers won exclamations from Lady Alice. Con 
 stance went from flower to flower in still ecstacy. 
 
 "These japonicas are cold, stiff and pale, like 
 winter," said she at last, "and this scarlet cactus, 
 with its ray-like stamens, well sets forth the warmth 
 of the tropics." 
 
 " How unfortunate it is in its leaves ! " said Lady 
 Alice, languidly. " Without those I should esteem it 
 distingue" Constance strolled further till she dis 
 covered a graceful-throated, delicate flower, rare and 
 costly as the gem of a coronet. 
 
 " This should be worn by a princess only," said
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 295 
 
 she half-aloud, and then leaned forward to inhale the 
 sweetness of a cluster of white tuberoses. 
 
 " How pure ! how deliciously fragant ! " she ex 
 claimed. " Mary's precious box of alabaster must 
 have given forth such sweetness. It is truly fit for an 
 offering of the purest love." Turning, to call the 
 attention of her cousin, she found Lord Huntington 
 standing near, watching her enjoyment. As Lady 
 Grey came to ask of the history and value of some 
 plants, she passed on, not caring now for their history. 
 The grace of form, the glow or the delicacy of color, 
 the exquisite fragrance of the blossoms filled her with 
 a dreamy happiness she could not express, and loved 
 to enjoy in silence. In returning, she lingered again 
 near the tuberoses, touched the long graceful foliage 
 caressingly, inhaled the delicious perfume with a 
 sigh, and followed the retiring party from the garden- 
 house back to the portico of the stately mansion. 
 Passing across the tessellated floor of a spacious hall, 
 they entered a suite of rooms hung with silk, and 
 frescoed with flowers. Here, they discoursed of 
 statuary and pictures, of which Lady Grey was an 
 enthusiastic connoisseur since forced to repress this 
 taste. While she was studying a Holy Family, Lord 
 Huntington led Constance to an alcove, to look over 
 some rare books. 
 
 " I owe you an apology, Mistress Constance, for 
 despatching to you a volume of Shakespeare without 
 your consent. It is condemned, I know, but most 
 unworthily. The plays I sent need not offend you. 
 Have you read them ? "
 
 296 COXSTANCE AYLMEH. 
 
 " Yes; with fear at first, but I believed I might 
 rest in your approval." 
 
 "Did you find pleasure in them ? " 
 
 "Indeed I did. Yet I am troubled that I could 
 so profoundly admire wicked people. Lady Macbeth 
 bears remorse with so amazing fortitude, and seeks so 
 well to sustain, shield, and comfort, rather than re 
 proach the weak Macbeth, that she wins my regard. 
 She dissembles like an evil angel. She commands 
 like a queen. I admire her, and feel condemned for it." 
 
 " It is her force of character that captivates your 
 approval, not her evil influence. You have no need 
 to condemn yourself." 
 
 " Was it for such reasons my father burned those 
 plays ? " asked Constance, earnestly. 
 
 " He may rather have been affronted at the coarse 
 ness of some scenes, and the harm which the picturing 
 of vice may carry to some minds. Do you remember 
 Hamlet with more satisfaction than Macbeth ? " 
 
 " Truly I do not. Hamlet promised nobly in the 
 first act. He proves aimless to my sense. Polonius, 
 so wise at first, throws discredit on wisdom; and 
 sweet Ophelia is weak. But I am ashamed to speak 
 my unlearned thoughts of a great man's work. I am 
 like the humble sparrow chirping its discontent with 
 the glorious melody of the nightingale." 
 
 " ]STo, Mistress Constance," replied Lord II. " It 
 is pleasing to discover the impression made upon one 
 not already fortified with borrowed opinions. But 
 you will remember that Shakspeare offers no perfect 
 characters. He took them as he found them in the
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 297 
 
 world bad men possessed of generous traits that win 
 ns ; good men having foibles which lessen our esteem. 
 He painted from nature." 
 
 " You help me," said Constance. " But I crave 
 more than I find. His wicked people are magnif 
 icently bad. His good people are weak. Cannot a 
 man be shown magnificently good ? Is goodness 
 always weak ? " 
 
 " No. There are men who have as grandly lived 
 unto truth, as Richard III. unto evil." 
 
 " Then why did Shakespeare withhold such ? " 
 
 " Perhaps he had not that in his soul which loved 
 to glorify the upright man. Knowing evil, he portr^y- 
 ed skilfully a large nature swayed by evil, but if he 
 did not know the mystery of the strength of a heart 
 moved upon by the Holy Ghost, how could he well 
 picture it 2 " 
 
 " Then we can never behold a drama in which 
 nobly good men may have a part, except it have birth 
 in a godly mind ? " asked Constance. 
 
 " That is my thought," returned Lord H. " I be 
 lieve Mr. Milton might raise the drama if he were so 
 minded." 
 
 " "Whom could you find worthy to be his heroes ? " 
 
 "Luther and Melancthon, as set forth against 
 Charles Y. and Rome's creatures, would surpass the 
 fine contrasts in Shakespeare. Melancthon's delicate 
 fineness of nature and high culture beside Luther with 
 his strong convictions and his amazing boldness, de 
 fying from the Rock of Faith the artful oily-tongued 
 plotters of Rome, at the Diet of Worms, is a nobler 
 13*
 
 298 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 scene than any in our poet's volumes. I know another 
 hero whom you would also approve," said Lord Hun- 
 tington, looking at Constance as upon a beloved pupil. 
 She gave back a smile as she questioned, 
 
 " Oliver Cromwell ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Lord H. warmly. " I should love 
 to know him dramatized by a friendly interpreter. He 
 accepted the leadership of this people with the fear and 
 the faith of Moses. He once said to me, ' I consented 
 to undertake the Protectorate only to save the nation 
 from imminent evil, though I should altogether think 
 any person titter than I am.' And of late when the 
 title of King was privately urged upon his thoughts, he 
 said, ' I am ready to serve not as a King, but as a Con 
 stable. For truly, I have as before God often thought 
 that I could not tell what my business was, nor what 
 I was in the place I stood in, save comparing myself 
 to a good Constable set to keep the peace of the par 
 ish.' " 
 
 " And he has refused the title of King \ " asked 
 Constance. 
 
 " Not publicly, but as urged in private." 
 
 " Does he excuse himself worthily ? " 
 
 " Aye, he does. His reason ran thus. * God hath 
 seemed so to deal with the person and family of Charles 
 that he blasted the very title of King. He hath laid 
 it in the dust. I will not seek to set up that which 
 Providence hath destroyed and laid in the dust ; I 
 would not build Jericho again ! ' he said." 
 
 " So good a thought could not come out of a mind 
 full of artifice," said Constance with enthusiasm.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 299 
 
 " Yet he is wise as a serpent," answered Lord H. 
 " He moulds the array to his will, yet is careful not to 
 betray it to the jealousy of Parliament. His Ironsides 
 control men's passions. His eye is upon every con 
 spiracy, but the arm of his power never falls upon the 
 mere plotter, and herein is room for the dramatist's 
 skill. He permits the utmost liberty of discontent till 
 it is fully ripe for a blow. Behold then his grim sol 
 diers at the final rendezvous, unasked, like Banquo 
 at the feast. I am often amazed at his forbearance 
 and tenderness to the last moment." 
 
 " Does he not then live in pitiful fear of his life ? " 
 Constance asked. 
 
 " No soldier would willingly die by an assassin. I 
 believe these conspiracies grieve his soul most because 
 they make darker the way in which he already gropes. 
 He often says, Providence has dealt amazingly with 
 him hitherto, and he knows not how he shall walk 
 except as God directs. Think you Shakespeare would 
 have rightly understood such form of faith and forti 
 tude ? " 
 
 " Cromwell ! always Cromwell ! " exclaimed Lady 
 Grey, approaching them in her leisurely, idle way. 
 " Lord Huntington, I fear you will plant so deep 
 homage for the Protector in Constance's heart, that 
 she will ill bear my loyalty to the royal house." 
 
 " I think it was well planted before she came 
 hither," was the playful reply. 
 
 " Doubtless you are right," was the gracious assent. 
 " But I must interrupt your further discourse since 
 we are to drive in the Park before returning home."
 
 300 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 Saying this, Lady Grey took leave and sailed away 
 to her carriage with her protegee. After an hour in 
 the Park, they arrived at home wearied. On enter 
 ing her own room, Constance wondered at the fra 
 grance with which it was filled. 
 
 " Can I have wafted hither in my garments, the 
 perfume of those delicious flowers ? " she questioned. 
 Then her eye fell upon a vase in the deep window- 
 seat, containing the tuberose she had admired at 
 Lord Huntington's. A soft flush stole over her face 
 at sight of it. 
 
 .." What thoughtful kindness! How did he discov 
 er that my admiration centred upon this ? : ' said 
 Constance to herself. Then remembering that he 
 stood near, she recalled his thoughtful attitude and 
 his smile. " Did he hear my words ? What did I 
 utter ? What ? " she repeated, looking alarmed. " Oh 
 it was of Mary's offering I spoke. Did I not say 
 too that this was fittest above all the others to express 
 pure love ? And so truly it is. Yet I would he had 
 not heard so much. Perhaps it was not his thought. 
 JSTo ! no ! But it doss set forth the sweetest friend 
 ship I ever knew." And Constance breathed the in 
 cense into her very soul, now looking with tenderness 
 upon the pure flowers, and now, with a shade of sad 
 ness in her face, gazing at the distant meadows beyond 
 the river, as was her habit when dreaming. .There 
 was reason for her dreaming ; more than Lady Grey 
 knew. She did not appreciate the delicate sympa 
 thy of Lord Huntington, the interchange of glances, 
 unsought by either, yet happening often, to Constance's
 
 COXSTANCE AYLMEE. 301 
 
 confusion. She did not know the charm to Con 
 stance of the noble tenderness in his voice and manner 
 and how strongly it might appeal to a heart so lately 
 bruised. Neither did it once occur to her that Lord 
 Huntington could yield to the unconscious power of 
 a simple girl, who, without coquetry, without the fin 
 ished airs of a court belle, possessed only a graceful 
 beauty, a pure soul, a mind that soared above the mim 
 icries of fashion, and an ardent spirit always held in 
 durance by womanly sweetness. All this Lady Grey 
 counted admirable in country life, but as having little 
 weight with a nobleman of a proud house, able to 
 seek an important alliance. She believed what she 
 had once told Constance, that he was not a " marrying 
 man." He always had the freedom of the house, and 
 if he came oftener now than formerly, it was because 
 of the exciting state of public affairs ; though it often 
 happened when he came that he brought books for 
 Constance, or rare flowers from his garden-house, or 
 some of the wild blue bugloss from the dry ditches of 
 Piccadilly, or other wayside flowers gathered when 
 he walked or rode, as if he carried her always in his 
 thoughts. 
 
 The months passed away into winter, Lady Grey 
 still strangely oblivious ; Lord Huntington daily more 
 earnest in his devotion ; Constance more conscious of 
 beholding in him that ideal she had once worshipped 
 mistakingly in another, and yet alarmed and shrink 
 ing from the conviction. She fought frequent battles 
 with herself for betraj'ing this in her agitation, for 
 listening and recognizing his footstep, for being pow-
 
 302 CONSTANCE AYLMKE. 
 
 erless to withhold the glad look of welcome, and for 
 that heaviness of spirit that came when he was gone 
 out of her presence. Sometimes she questioned, if 
 he was amusing himself; for had not her aunt assured 
 her that he would seek only a high prize, if any? 
 Then her pride held her aloof from the family group 
 when he came, till her doubts were forgotten in the 
 sweet reception of some new token that she was su 
 preme in his thoughts. How long this happy misery 
 might have continued, perhaps Lord Huntington could 
 not have told. But an unexpected incident put an 
 end to it.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 303 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 " ST. PAUL'S WALK " was the fashionable prome 
 nade for loungers who vibrated between that and the 
 Whitehall galleries. It was a stately portico, or cov 
 ered ambulatory, at the west end of the cathedral, 
 supported by pillars of the Corinthian order, and 
 adorned with the statues of King James and King 
 Charles. Driven from the leafless parks, the cavaliers 
 and belles paced this walk, and, not unfrequently, the 
 more staid parliamentarians found a pleasant rest here 
 from the noisy discussion of politics at the Turkish 
 coffee-house. 
 
 Constance, walking here one day with Lady Grey, 
 lingered to listen to the musical twang of a harp 
 played by a blind man. He, perceiving that some 
 one stood near, began a plaintive ballad. Lady Grey 
 passed on, and still Constance stood, forgetting the 
 presence of any but the forlorn singer and his sweet 
 instrument. Suddenly a hand touched her shoulder 
 lightly, and a voice that had once been familiar said, 
 hesitatingly, almost pleadingly, 
 
 " Constance Aylmer ! " 
 
 She turned. Was it flesh and blood that presented 
 itself to her sight, or a vision of Edward Mordaunt ? 
 She beheld him amazed. A quick, fiery flush mounted 
 to her brow, and slowly rolled back, leaving her face 
 cold and white as marble. Her hand rested in his,
 
 304 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 tliougli she did not know that she had offered it. 
 She no longer heard the tinkling of the music ; the 
 voices about her sounded far off; she knew not if she 
 stood upon the marble pavement,, or if the earth was 
 moving away from beneath her. She only knew that 
 Edward Hordaunt was there, and that a fluttering 
 pain gathered about and grasped her heart. She made 
 a strong effort to control herself, gently withdrew her 
 hand and turned away without uttering one word, 
 leaving him standing alone and perplexed. Not see 
 ing Lady Grey, and conscious that curious eyes were 
 bent upon her pale face, she went with slow and 
 weak steps to the coach, entered it, and directed the 
 coachman to drive home. 
 
 It was her old way to hide herself when she suf 
 fered. She admitted only Rose to her room, and told 
 her how to help her. "When the pain lessened and 
 she rested languidly, she dismissed even Rose. Her 
 thoughts were in stormy commotion. 
 
 " Why is Edward Mordaunt here ? "Why should 
 he seek me?" she asked. "What right has he to 
 call me Constance Aylmer in that old tender way, or 
 to touch my hand when he is no more mine and I 
 am no more his ? Why did he summon a buried love, 
 when no longer free to seek it? And why, why did 
 the old enchantment fall upon me at sight of his face? 
 Can a first-love never rest in its grave ? Will its 
 spectre always confront me ? Can no other efface it ? 
 I thought yesterday it had been dead forever ! I 
 would that we had not met this side of heaven." 
 
 Constance lay quite still, with her eyes closed,
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 305 
 
 trying to understand herself and all that Lad hap 
 pened. Two round, bright drops stole from under 
 her eyelids, and rolled unheeded upon the white pil 
 low. Just then a soft tap on the door admitted Rose. 
 Her face was shining with pleasure. 
 
 " Here is good medicine, Missus Constance. I 
 think the good Lord hisself sent it, to comfort you,' 
 she whispered, displaying at the same time a packet 
 having Sir Henry's seal, and the ship's post-marks. 
 She received and opened it eagerly, while Rose with 
 drew. We will read it with her. 
 
 w 
 
 " To Constance Aylmer: 
 
 " Gravesend, 10th Dec., 1656. 
 
 " My Loving Cousin : 
 
 " I have not sooner writ you since my exit from 
 England, having nothing wherewith to delight your 
 knowledge better than my mother was able to give 
 you. No more should I honor you with my auto 
 graph at this time, but to remind you of one who was 
 once false to you, yet whose repentance hath pow 
 dered his locks to such degree that I am able to for 
 give him. 
 
 " The ship in which Elsie sailed last autumn, was 
 lost at sea, and only one sailor fetched himself safely 
 from the wreck. My mother was moved to send you 
 tidings sooner, had not many held hope that Elsie 
 was picked up by some Dutch skipper going to traffic 
 in the Virginias. But Dame Roosevelt mourns her 
 as wholly dead, and Domine Megapolensis bewailed 
 her in a set sermon two months gone. 
 
 " Mordaunt goes to England in the ship freighted
 
 306 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 with these letters. I wait to know if your high spirit 
 or your tenderness abide uppermost. He is a cava 
 lierly fellow, and better fit for your notice since en 
 during with grieved patience his self-inflicted punish 
 ment. I wot not but he is tamed. I am loth to spare 
 him from this country, to which he will no more re 
 turn. I have stood his confessor and shrove him of 
 his sins against you. Errare est hwmamim. 'Forgive 
 him therefore. 
 
 . " Send with dispatch the enclosed to my tailor. 
 The dunce made my doublet half an ell too long. I 
 would berate him soundly if he would lend his ear. 
 Do you convey to him my good opinion of his skill 
 in finding my height. 
 
 " Vive vale, 
 
 HENKY MOODY, Bart." 
 
 Constance dropped the letter in dismay. 
 
 " What have I done ! Cruel, cruel girl ! " she ex 
 claimed, covering her face with her hands. "Would 
 Mordaunt go from London without seeking her fur 
 ther ? Would he resent her conduct as of old ? were 
 questions that agitated her. What could she do? 
 She longed for some one's wisdom beside her own. 
 But where could she turn ? To Lady Grey ? No, 
 she shrank from the cold, business-like way in which 
 she would sit as judge upon the sacred history, and 
 condemn with ridicule an affair of the heart which of 
 fered no worldly advantage. Could she ask Lord 
 Grey ? He was half a stranger yet, and always too 
 absorbed for a quiet, fatherly talk. Who was there
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 307 
 
 else but Lord Huntiiigton ? Who BO reliable and so 
 sympathizing ? In remembering him, Constance felt 
 an instinct to fly to him, to tell him all her perplexi 
 ties, to rest implicitly in his judgment, certain to be 
 met with interest and tenderness. The very thought 
 of him quieted her emotion. She had been pacing 
 the floor restlessly. She sat down to think. 
 
 " He knows Edward Mordatmt. But can I tell 
 him all that sad history ? "Would I not betray Ed 
 ward in thus unsealing my lips ? Alas ! I would not 
 do that. Besides, why do I feel convinced at this 
 moment that he loves me, and that therefore I cannot 
 make this known to him. Is not this conviction 
 sweet ? Do I love both ? "What am I ? " said she, 
 rising in dismay, and walking back and forth greatly 
 agitated. " Have I a double being? Does one heart 
 look back longingly to the realization of girlish 
 dreams, and fool me still with the trust that my hero 
 was and is what my own fancy painted him ? Have 
 I outgrown that ideal? and does my other heart 
 worship now a higher, nobler type ? Can Edward 
 Mordaunt satisfy that other heart 2 . Oh ! what am I ? 
 How shall I know myself, and how shall I know to 
 act rightly ? " 
 
 She stopped before the window and looked away, 
 away, from herself across the sea to beloved Aunt 
 Deborah at once her mother and her counsellor. 
 Then she remembered what this best of earthly 
 friends had once told her. 
 
 " There is none so wise to counsel thee as 
 Jesus. Lay all thy perplexities before him, and he
 
 308 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 will guide thee gently out of them, in the best 
 way." 
 
 " Yes. Why not ? " said Constance, aloud. " Who 
 knows my heart so well ? Who can so rightly judge 
 what is best in the future for me and for others ? 
 Who has such power to make ' all things work to 
 gether for good to them that love God.' Tes, I will 
 go to Him my father, my mother, brother, friend 
 all in One." And with a glow of peace in her sweet 
 face, Constance knelt.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 309 
 
 XXY. 
 
 IT was quite true that the schooner in which Elsie 
 Mordaunt sailed for Hew Amsterdam was wrecked. 
 Let us go back to the day of that event. It was not 
 true that only one soul escaped. Elsie was not one 
 to yield her life without a struggle, or to be over 
 whelmed with despair at the moment when her most 
 composed sense was needed. She had one of those 
 natures which cannot endure with calmness the little 
 vexations of life, but which rises strong and self-pos 
 sessed in important moments. While her compan 
 ions were bewailing the inevitable death before them, 
 she was deliberately calling to mind all the means of 
 safety of which she had ever heard. The long, low 
 shore of New Jersey was in sight. To die almost 
 within hail of land was a thought she refused to en 
 tertain. She was too ignorant of the power of the 
 great waves rolling in and breaking on the beach, to 
 fear them with the ghastly terror that blanched the 
 faces about her. Her very innocence of that awful 
 power, secured calmness. She knew that it would be 
 useless to cling to chance objects floating in the water, 
 from the wreck. Any one of superior strength might 
 clutch them from her, or she might lose her hold in 
 a moment of exhaustion. She resolved therefore to 
 tie herself firmly to some buoyant object. Remem 
 bering the light floating of the little pine canoes
 
 310 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 which she had many times sailed in a tub of water, 
 to amuse Engle Zwaller, she dragged herself about 
 the wet deck, till she obtained possession of two short 
 boards, and then entreated a sailor to bind her arms 
 upon them with small ropes cut from the sails. He 
 served her well, shaking his head dolefully while he 
 did it. 
 
 " You are a brave soul," said he, " but these will 
 only help you into eternity. You will be sucked into 
 the depths of the sea with the vessel. If you rise 
 again before the last trump, you will be worthy to 
 rule the stoutest skipper that ever sailed." 
 
 Thus equipped, and thus sadly condoled with, 
 Elsie awaited her fate, pale and shivering at the stern 
 possibilities of death. How many hours she waited, 
 she never knew. A century of hours seemed to drag 
 their heavy length, passing in review before her, as 
 in a clear mirror, all the thoughts and acts of her life. 
 How wasted and aimless it seemed now ! They 
 whose piety she had ridiculed, rose so lofty and pure, 
 and worthy to possess life ; they whose companionship 
 she had chosen were but grovelling souls abased 
 before their Maker. She prayed now, just as many 
 around her prayed, even though yesterday they were 
 scoffers. Then she remembered her mother's tender 
 ness and sacrifices, and her own undutiful selfishness 
 and neglects in return. Bitter tears fell for this. 
 And now her thoughts went back to the little cottage 
 at Jamestown, and rested with her husband. Had 
 she been a loving helper and consoler ? Had she not 
 teazed, fretted and neglected him, seeking her own
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 311 
 
 ease and comfort? Had she not wilfully left him 
 when he desired her to delay the voyage a little 
 longer ? If his strong arm could shield her now, 
 what happiness! She never loved him as at this 
 moment, and yet it did not occur to her to rejoice that 
 he was not sharing her suffering. But she promised 
 herself that if she lived, she would be a tenderer 
 wife. 
 
 And now came the dreadful last moments mo 
 ments filled with a giddy sense of descent, of whirling 
 black waters, of appalling cries for help, when there 
 was no help. With one long-drawn breath, a moment 
 of instinctive resistance and of horror, and she was 
 engulfed in the cold depths. In the midst of strug 
 gles, and but half conscious from intense suffering of 
 soul and body, she still had thought and vigor enough 
 to turn her arms in such way that the boards to which 
 she was bound should not offer resistance to rising to 
 the surface. Slowly, buoyantly, she felt herself as 
 cending. What joy when she emerged struggling, 
 and reached up, as if she would bound into the blessed 
 light and air ! But she discovered that these efforts 
 would bring speedy death. She then rested quietly, 
 suffering herself to float with her arms extended. She 
 soon saw the shore growing firmer in outline, felt her 
 self tossing nearer and nearer for hours, and at last, 
 almost suffocated in the breaking surf, was flung upon 
 the shore, dragged back by a retreating wave, then 
 tossed again nearly lifeless on the beach. The boards 
 caught against the stones, and anchored her. Still, 
 dashed upon with fury by the thundering surf, she
 
 312 CONSTANCE AYLMER, 
 
 slowly but resolutely crept beyond its reach, and 
 dropped exhausted and insensible. 
 
 When- Elsie opened her eyes, the sun was shining 
 in her face, and an Indian woman stooped beside her, 
 endeavoring to loosen the pendant ear-rings from her 
 ears. 
 
 "Thank God 1 Thank God ! Saved! Saved!" 
 she exclaimed, feebly. The woman started back from 
 the reanimated body with affright, but Elsie entreated 
 her not to leave her. The words had no meaning to 
 the woman's ear, but the language of the pleading 
 face could not be mistaken. She hesitated, and then, 
 as if prompted by some thought of advantage, freed 
 her arms from the cords, and wrapped her in her own 
 mantle. Then swinging upon her back a basket 
 partly filled with broken shells, she lifted Elsie in her 
 stout arms, and carried her over a dreary waste of 
 sand, made more dreary by the long, coarse grass 
 waving in the wind. She followed an inlet, entered 
 a forest fragrant of pine, and presently crossing a 
 narrow stream, laid Elsie down in a wigwam, upon a 
 pile of mats and skins. 
 
 Elsie yielded like a child to all that her rude nurse 
 now prescribed, wearing a wolf-skin robe, and drink 
 ing a broth of which she neither dared nor cared to 
 know the ingredients. A day or two sufficed to re 
 vive her, and by the time the master of the lodge 
 came home, she had recovered her old vigor and 
 elasticity of spirits. 
 
 Home occupied all her thoughts. To discover on 
 what part of the coast she had been thrown, and the
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 313 
 
 distance to Manhattan, and to persuade the silent old 
 Indian to pilot her through the wilderness, was her 
 daily effort, always baffled. To all her questions and 
 gestures he replied with a puff of smoke or a low 
 growl. She chattered persistently, determined to 
 teach him her language by repetition, till he could 
 answer. Sometimes, in her old capricious moods, she 
 tied up a bundle, mounted it on her shoulder upon a 
 stick, wrapped herself in mantle and moccasins, and 
 shouting, " Home ! Home ! Manhattan ! Manhat 
 tan ! " strove to make her captors understand her 
 wishes. But these stoics mildly refused to under 
 stand. She dared not venture away alone. It was 
 of no avail to lose her temper and throw down her 
 bundle, or to weep like a homesick child. She learned 
 that to submit to her fate peaceably, was her wisest 
 behavior. But to submit to serve, she would not. 
 The squaw endeavored in vain to force her to bring 
 water from the stream, or fagots for the fire. She 
 resolutely refused, and commanded service in her turn 
 with such tumultuous energy, that the solemn old 
 guardian of the lodge verily laughed, and permitted 
 her to rule. 
 
 Dreary weeks went by, and still Elsie was an un 
 willing prisoner. She found amusement in making a 
 mantle of soft deer-skin for the approaching winter, 
 and ornamenting it with quills and bright bird 
 feathers, in Indian fashion. She was skilful in the 
 use of the thorn-needles, and pleased the squaw, who 
 patiently hunted them for her, by embroidering a pair 
 of moccasins with fibres of bark twisted and stained 
 14
 
 314 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 with bright colors. She sometimes chose to prepare 
 meats in a savory mode, or to string oysters to smoke 
 and dry for winter use. She learned to weave mats 
 too, varying and beautifying them to a degree that 
 astonished her keepers. She had never been so indus 
 trious in her life, never so patient, so helpful. Food 
 had never been so delicious, sleep never so "sweet. 
 Yet she yearned to take wings like a bird and fly over 
 the space that divided her from her own people. Did 
 they believe her lost ? Would they mourn for her 
 long ? Would Mordaunt deeply grieve when he heard 
 of her death? She wondered what the neighbors 
 would say, and if the Domine would preach about 
 her, and if they would weep, and if her mother would 
 walk home talking mournfully of her. Wouldn't she 
 frighten them all when she walked in some day ! 
 that happy day of escape that must come soon. How 
 many miles lay between her and I^ew Amsterdam 2 
 One hundred ? sixt}' ? thirty ? Only thirty, perhaps 
 only thirty! Could she not dare to try the distance 
 alone ? 
 
 Possibly, in her eager longings, she might have 
 cast her fate in the attempt, had not an incident 
 prevented. A band of Indians from the north arrived 
 in the camp, and, as Elsie had done before at sight of 
 every stranger, she went quickly among them and 
 appealed, like a child, from one to another. 
 
 "Manhattan ! Manhattan ! " she cried, eagerly 
 questioning in Dutch and English, if they would take 
 her home. One nodded his head, replying, 
 
 " lyano speaks Inglis." With a cry of joy, Elsie
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 315 
 
 almost threw herself in his arms. "Would he rescue 
 her ? Might she travel with his baud ? 
 
 " She can go to the Manhattas. lyano's lodge is 
 there." 
 
 "lyano!" exclaimed Elsie, in strong excitement, 
 " I know the name. I have heard Lady Moody 
 speak it." 
 
 " The good mother is the friend of lyano." 
 
 "And do you know New Amsterdam? and my 
 father and mother and the Director and them all ? " 
 
 " Ugh ! The white daughter may find them. She 
 go with the Massapequas," replied lyano. Elsie saw 
 the talk was done. She fled to her hut, threw herself 
 upon her bed of moss, and cried with frantic joy. 
 Then she sprang up, danced around the astonished 
 squaw, hugged her, and put in her ears the long- 
 coveted ear-rings. And now she tied moccasins on 
 her own feet, fastened on her half-finished mantle, 
 and took her station in front of the lodge to watch 
 
 
 
 the new-comers, lest by any chance they should move 
 away without her knowledge. They remained all 
 day and all night. She did not sleep. She lay down 
 to rest, but at every sound sprang to her feet and 
 parted the mats that hung at the opening of the hut, 
 to peer out. At dawn, she saw them astir. Fearing 
 lest she should be forcibly detained, she made haste 
 to station herself near them. 
 
 A light snow covered the ground. The bare 
 limbs of the oaks reached out among the green tufts 
 of the pines as if for shelter and warmth. Curling 
 wreaths of smoke went rip from the camp-fire and
 
 316 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 sailed slowly among their tops. A rude kettle hung 
 upon cross-sticks over the coals, and, hovering over 
 this steaming caldron and dipping out portions of 
 meat with a gourd, was an ancient witch-like woman 
 in a gay calico kirtle and a necklace of copper 
 triangles. Swarthy men gathered about the tire, 
 sharpening arrow-flints or tearing hot venison with 
 their fingers. ISTo one noticed Elsie, who sat upon a 
 log near by, too full of anxious fears and hopes to 
 think of her need of food. lyano, seeing her, brought 
 a piece of venison on a clean piece of bark, reminding 
 her that the Massapequas had " long moccasins,"" and 
 would go far that day. Thus refreshed after her 
 wakeful night, she was eager to go, and felt that she 
 could bound like the roe in the path. When the band 
 began to depart in single file, Elsie looked back at 
 the lodge where she had spent the long weeks of 
 autumn. The squaw stood there gazing at her and 
 the departing guests. Elsie would have gone to her, 
 had she dared. She waved her hand and cried out, 
 
 " Good Monitawa ! You brought me home and 
 gave me shelter. The white people will reward you." 
 Then turned to lyano with the sudden question, 
 " Will she believe I am cursing or blessing her?" 
 " Me say Good Spirit bless her for you," answered 
 lyano, motioning to the woman and repeating what 
 he would say in her own language. And so Elsie 
 turned away contented, and disappeared blithely be 
 tween the black and scraggy trunks of the closest trees 
 of the forest. She had vague notions of what this 
 journey might be. The first day's vigor could not last
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 317 
 
 well, but she had indomitable resolution, and so long 
 as the hope of home was held before her, could suffer 
 cold and hunger and weariness to the last degree. We 
 will not follow her in the painful slowness of the tor 
 tuous journey, beaten upon by rain and sleet, torn by 
 wayside thorns, her feet bruised and swollen, and her 
 limbs aching from exertion beyond her strength, 
 lyano bound thick skins over her torn moccasins, and 
 halted to give her rest, encouraging her with recount 
 ing the number of " sleeps " to Manhattan. "While 
 she is toiling toward home, we may go in advance and 
 discover the events that precede her coming.
 
 318 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 XXYI. 
 
 BEFORE daybreak, on the morning when Elsie be 
 gan her journey, a fleet of sixty canoes, filled with 
 Indians, crossed the bay of Manhattan, floated noise 
 lessly under the very walls of the Fort of New Amster 
 dam, and eifeeted a landing without one signal of 
 alarm. Director Stuyvesant had gone with his small 
 army to subdne the Swedes at Fort Cassamir. The 
 town was not in a state of defence. The cannon in 
 the Fort were useless, the palisades broken, the gates 
 open, the sentinels asleep at their posts. Many house 
 holders were gone with the Director, and those who 
 remained, contented themselves with barring their 
 doors, and slept in unsuspecting security. 
 
 The first knowledge of danger was in a noisy sum 
 mons at the doors of many domicils for entrance, on 
 pretence of searching for fugitive Indians. The occu 
 pants awoke out of sleep to find themselves surrounded 
 by a dreaded enemy. The street was filled with these 
 savages peering everywhere, to discover the weakness 
 or know the strength of their victims, hoping to find 
 men and guns gone, and the town secure for plunder. 
 One gun was sufficient to put a dozen of these cruel 
 cowards to flight. On the other hand, any sign of fear 
 on the part of the inhabitants would invite an attack. 
 Women summoned all their heroism and forbade en 
 trance to their houses, and men sternly expelled those
 
 COKSTASTCE AYLMEIJ. 319 
 
 who Lad obtained admittance. The Vice-Director and 
 the Council assembled as soon as possible in the Fort, 
 and gave orders for such defence as could be stealthily 
 prepared. 
 
 Herr Roosevelt had gone with the Director. Dame 
 Roosevelt was alone with a slave woman, and returned 
 to her bed sick with fright, after barring shutters and 
 doors. The servant nursed her alarms with occasional 
 reports of all that could be seen through the loop-holes 
 in the shutters. 
 
 Burgomaster Zwaller was also away with the army. 
 At daylight, old Mabel answered the thundering sum 
 mons at the door, rolled up her eyes at sight of the 
 visitors, dropped the latch and stood transfixed and 
 helpless. Down the stairs and into the fire-lit room 
 stalked Dame Zwaller. Masculine in her tread, straight 
 and tall as the best of the warriors before her, carry 
 ing a gun in her hand and stern determination in her 
 face, she was an object of fear to the intruders, though 
 a woman. Striking the butt of the gun upon the 
 floor, she pointed to the door and commanded them to 
 go, with the air of an offended general marching out 
 a clan of mutinous soldiers. One or two skulked 
 away, others lingered, glancing with covetous eyes at 
 the row of pewter shining on the shelf. The gun was 
 lifted significantly. Dame Zwaller fearlessly came 
 nearer, and her sharp eyes and sharper voice repeated 
 the command. This time with effect. The room was 
 cleared instantly and the door closed upon them with 
 a vigorous sound that quickened the heels of the last 
 goer, as if he believed it the report of the gun.
 
 320 CONSTANCE AYLilEK. 
 
 " My God ! spare us from horrors this day ! " she 
 exclaimed, when she saw at sunrise a horde of war- 
 painted Indians lounging in the street. " The Al 
 mighty alone holds them from springing upon us, 
 Mabel. With His help we are our own defenders to 
 day." 
 
 Dame Zwaller meant to save her children and her 
 house. She therefore put her house in order for de 
 fence, barricaded, provided water in every part, and 
 caused Mabel to gather the marred pewter -plates and 
 mugs, while she sat by the fire with poor little 
 frightened Perle and Engle, moulding bullets. She 
 had intense fears for Barbara. The marauders would 
 attack the bowery before night, doubtless. Was Bal- 
 tazzar on the alert ? Their chance of escape was 
 small. The Fort, the few soldiers, and the armed 
 towns-people might intimidate the enemy; but the 
 solitary farmers could offer less resistance. If the 
 savages did not get blood here, they would seek it 
 there. But who could give warning? Mabel was 
 too old ; Minxey would die with fright. Engle was 
 a brave little fellow, who would not shrink from 
 what his mother commanded; but how was she to 
 spare this only son, this best of all her treasures. 
 Then Barbara, murdered, rose before her eyes. Her 
 heart leaped from one to the other. She trembled 
 and gave great sighs, still busily casting the bullets. 
 Suddenly her face lighted. She lifted herself from 
 her work. 
 
 " Engle, you know how to use a gun. 1 " 
 
 " Yes, I do ! " he answered proudly.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 321 
 
 " This is too heavy for you," said she, thought 
 fully, handling the one that had noiselessly helped 
 her fight her first battle. She went into the loft, and 
 after some search, found a carabine. .Returning with 
 it, she said, 
 
 " This you can use, and thus." Giving him a 
 chair to mount, she taught him how to place the 
 weapon in the crescent cut in each of the wooden 
 shutters to admit light. She bade him fire from each 
 window in succession, in case of attack, by which 
 method a host would seem to resist. 
 
 " For," said she, " Engle, I shall leave you sole 
 defender of your sister, of Mabel, and your father's 
 property, while I go to the bowery and warn Baltaz- 
 zar. Can you do this ? " 
 
 " I can, mother ! " said Engle, standing straight 
 as an arrow, while his cheeks and lips blanched at 
 the thought of acting the real soldier which he had 
 so often played. 
 
 Dame Zwaller said no more, donned her wrap 
 pings, took the gun in her hand, bade Mabel bar the 
 door behind her, and walked forth into the street. 
 Engle's heart sank within him when he saw his 
 mother go out among those cruel Indians. He looked 
 a frozen image of terror, which the blazing fire had 
 no power to melt, while he crouched on the hearth 
 beside Perle, waiting for the dreaded yells which 
 would signify the attack. Two endless hours those 
 poor children sat listening to every sound. Would 
 their mother ever come back ? 
 
 The gate opened at last. Footsteps came nearer.
 
 322 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 "Was it the enemy ? Engle stood up straight and 
 brave and pale, and fixed his eyes on the loaded 
 carabine. The tramp was near the door. Knock ! 
 knock! knock! 
 
 " Mabel, it is I ! " Engle sprang forward with a 
 glad cry, and helped let down the bar. As Dame 
 Zwaller entered, he sprang into her arms, weeping 
 because he had recovered his mother unharmed. She 
 sat down exhausted and faint. As Mabel brought 
 her a glass of wine, she whispered, 
 
 u Herr Yan Spuyt is killed. I saw some arrows 
 shot. They are getting bolder. I would not venture 
 forth again with my life in my hand." Then speak 
 ing louder, she added, "But Baltazzar is warned, and 
 I hope, saved. He is gathering in his flocks." 
 
 It was true that one citizen had lost his life, and 
 that the Indians, becoming aware how poorly the 
 town was defended, began to show signs of hostility. 
 Within the Fort, secret preparations had been going 
 on during the day. The citizens had determined to 
 venture all in one strategic movement. There were 
 several soldiers in the Fort, a few negroes, one or two 
 prisoners, Nicholas Stuyvesant, the Vice-Director De 
 Sille, and some members of the Council, besides a 
 few citizens who had stolen in from time to time ; in 
 all a company of forty, to oppose to a band of three 
 hundred Indians. To these was presently added lit 
 tle Lisbet, who, in a fit of uncontrollable terror, scaled 
 the wall of the Fort that hemmed in her garden, and 
 rolled over the parapet into the court-yard, with the 
 agility and velocity of her own pet cat.
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 323 
 
 This mimic army, well provided with ammunition, 
 hoped, with the aid of a big drum and fife, to save 
 New Amsterdam. Councillor De Sille strove first to 
 induce the Indians to leave the town, by friendly en 
 treaties, then by commands, and, as the day wore 
 a,way, by threats, which he presently put into execu 
 tion. Attracting them near the Fort, he gave a signal, 
 the gates were suddenly thrown open, and, with all 
 possible noise of fife and drum and rapid firing, the 
 little army sallied impetuously out of the Fort. The 
 savages, believing a whole army pouring out upon 
 them, turned and fled swiftly to the water's edge, 
 pushed off the canoes, sprang in and plied their pad 
 dles with amazing vigor ; while the soldiers, excited 
 by success, continued noisily firing after the fugitives. 
 The shouts of victory and the rolling of the drums 
 sounded through all the town, till long after night 
 fall. Metje Wessell's inn was crowded with beer-drink 
 ing customers, congratulating themselves on escape, 
 and applauding the Councillor's wonderful wisdom. 
 
 But before long, red flames began to light up all 
 the regions about them an awful sight to those who 
 understood what horrors those lurid flames represent 
 ed. Baltazzar Stuyvesant saw them and knew what 
 cruel work had begun. At what moment the Indians 
 might row up the river and lay his own home in 
 ashes he did not know. Nicholas sent a message en 
 treating him to abandon the bowery, and take refuge 
 with his family in the Fort. Baltazzar sent back word 
 to come and help him defend it. But this Nicholas 
 had no thought of doing.
 
 324 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 Baltazzar knew what orders his father would issue 
 if at home. He was not willing to sacrifice his favor 
 ite bowery, and valuable imported stock, when by 
 prompt and courageous measures all might be saved. 
 He felt the responsibilities of his stewardship more 
 than his personal danger, and determined to remain. 
 But his wife and boy must be sheltered in the town, 
 whither many were already flocking from their iso 
 lated homes. He went to seek Barbara. 
 
 " I cannot leave you, Baltazzar," was her reply. 
 " But you must ! " said he, surprised at the unex 
 pected opposition. 
 
 "If you are to die, I shall die with you," she said. 
 " But our boy, Barbara ! " 
 
 " We Avill die together. I will not go to the Fort 
 without you." 
 
 " What madness ! You must go," he repeated, al 
 most doubting if she was in her right senses to offer 
 such disobedience she, the ever dutiful wife. 
 
 " Go with me, then," she entreated. " Your life 
 is worth more to me than land or house or gold." 
 
 " I cannot forsake what my father has committed 
 to me. A hired servant is sometimes faithful to his 
 post. How much more then will my father look for 
 my dutiful service ? I cannot fly like a coward, when 
 I know that the bold action of a few may keep many 
 savages at bay. I shall stay." 
 
 " Then I shall stay also," cried Barbara, throwing 
 her arms around her husband's neck. "I will not 
 cry or shrink from service. I can load the guns." 
 " But our child, Barbara ! our child ! " exclaimed
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 325 
 
 Baltazzar, vacillating "between anger and love at the 
 conduct of his wife. " My anxiety for you both will 
 distract me when I need deliberate coolness." 
 
 " Is my love for you less than your duty to your 
 father, that I should forsake you ? No ! Your choice 
 is -mine also. Send for soldiers! send for soldiers! 
 The Councillor will not deny enough for the protec 
 tion of the Director's bowery," said Barbara, parry 
 ing the debate with a woman's quickness. 
 
 "Send for soldiers?" repeated Baltazzar, revolving 
 the thought. " I will try that," said he after a mo 
 ment. " If they are refused me, do you promise then 
 to take refuge in the Fort ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Barbara, smiling through her tears. 
 Baltazzar put his arms around her, kissed her ten 
 derly, stooped to kiss their sleeping boy, and went out 
 to send a messenger to De Sille. 
 
 Before midnight, seven French soldiers were per 
 forming picket duty on the Stuyvesant farm, and sev 
 eral negroes were stationed in or near the house. 
 Baltazzar watched, from the highest point he could 
 mount, the flames which marked the progress and di 
 rection taken by the Indians. The wretched bonfires 
 of homes on Staten Island had faded out, and new 
 lights shone on Long Island, in the direction of 
 Gravesend and New Utrecht, so that hope grew 
 strong that the bowery was exempt this night from 
 attack. But Baltazzar groaned as he thought of the 
 suffering friends there whom he had no power to help. 
 
 The next day, the Council of 'New Amsterdam 
 sent a messenger to summon the Director home, and
 
 326 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 gave orders for the immediate strengthening of the 
 fortifications, and the obtaining of serviceable cannon 
 to replace that which had become useless, even for 
 holiday service. No sentinel slept at his post now, no 
 breaches were to be left in the palisades to tempt 
 prowlers, and both land and water gate were faith 
 fully secured at sunset. 
 
 One morning, while repairs were still going on, a 
 slender canoe, containing an Indian and apparently a 
 young squaw, shot over the water in front of the 
 Fort, bent 'toward the landing. A French sentinel 
 paced the parapet of the Fort. He believed it treason 
 to the city to permit a red-skin to enter it. He had 
 failed in his duty before, and he intended to obey the 
 new regulations with military exactness. Besides, 
 every savage ought to die after such outrages as had 
 been perpetrated by them on the inhabitants of Long 
 Island. He therefore shouted fiercely at the passing 
 boatman. 
 
 The Indian looked up, unable to understand. 
 
 " Arretez ! " he shouted again, angrily. lyano, 
 for it was he, rested an instant on his oars, but still 
 understanding nothing, lifted the paddles again and 
 with a skilful sweep darted his canoe toward the 
 shore. 
 
 " Mourez ! fils du didble ! " cried the soldier, lift 
 ing his gun. A bullet sped straight to lyano. He 
 fell back in the canoe with a groan. 
 
 " Jesus, I die ! The Inglis kill his friend ! " - Elsie 
 gave a shriek of pain and fear at the sight. She for-
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 027 
 
 got to sieze the oars, and grasped the sides of the 
 boat, uttering screams of horror. The canoe gently 
 drifted away on the out-going tide. lyano opened 
 his eyes and looked mournfully at Elsie. He strove to 
 rise, but could not. 
 
 " I die ! " said he. " Tell my people no hurt the 
 Inglis. Tell the good mother make the great book 
 talk to my people. lyano go see Jesus. He shine 
 for me ! He come ! " His lips still moved, but Elsie 
 could hear no more. Her heart-rending cries brought 
 some frightened workmen to the shore. One kinder 
 than the rest, put off in a boat^ overtook the canoe, 
 took it in tow and slowly rowed back to shore. By 
 this time a crowd had gathered. Elsie sprang out of 
 the canoe into the boat and from that bounded to the 
 shore, unrecognized by any in her uncouth dress. 
 
 " You have killed lyano ! " she exclaimed, indig 
 nantly. " He was our good friend. He brought me 
 home. He was tender as a brother dear, kind lyano ! 
 And you have killed him," she said, with streaming 
 tears. The listeners heard with astonishment this 
 young squaw speak to them in their own language. 
 
 " Do you not know me ? I am Elsie Roosevelt. 
 Where is my father ? " 
 
 " Elsie Roosevelt ! Elsie Roosevelt ! " exclaimed 
 many voices. Had not the Domine buried her with 
 decent obsequies long ago 2 How had she arisen out 
 of her watery grave ? The news flew hither and thith 
 er while Elsie went with flying steps to her father's 
 house. Dame Roosevelt stood looking, from the win 
 dow, wondering what al] the stir was about down by
 
 328 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 the water-gate. Then she watched a squaw half run 
 ning, followed by a troop of gazers. The squaw was 
 coming toward the house. She stopped at the gate 
 opened, entered it, ran to the dp-or. 
 
 " What can ail the poor creature ? " said the fright 
 ened dame. Then seeing her nearer, cried, "How 
 like Elsie she looks ! Like my poor, lost Elsie ! " 
 This so touched her feelings that she went quickly 
 and opened the door. Her heart almost leaped out 
 of her frail body at the sight and the words that met 
 her. 
 
 " Mother ! mother ! " cried Elsie, throwing her 
 arms around her mother's neck and sobbing like a 
 child. Thus we leave them to weep together in their 
 joy and to recount all that had filled up those months 
 of living burial. 
 
 The tidings quickly spread through the town. 
 Many continually went to and fro to welcome and 
 congratulate Elsie, to mourn over the tragedy, or to 
 express fear of the consequences. At last, the Yice- 
 Director caused the body of lyano to be carried to 
 the Stadt Huys and laid in state. He sent messen 
 gers to the Massapequas and to Lady Moody. Sir 
 Henry came the next day, much excited by the events, 
 and even more deeply agitated at Elsie's return than 
 at lyano's death. Why, no one knew but himself. He 
 made eager inquiries as to when a ship would sail, 
 and sought the captain of the earliest one outward 
 bound, offering him a large reward to sail without 
 waiting for a full cargo. 
 
 When he met Elsie, she asked him with a keen
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 329 
 
 look and .nervous agitation if be knew Mordaunt's 
 plans, or why he went to England so suddenly. 
 
 "Perhaps he would not have gone if I had arrived 
 sooner," said she. . " Will it be very long before he 
 conies back ?" There was a new, subdued air about 
 Elsie that touched Sir Henry's feelings, knowing all 
 that he did of her husband. But he replied viva 
 ciously, 
 
 " Yes, I know his plans. He will return by the 
 time the robins tune their throats. What a roundelay 
 we shall have within and without ! " Elsie smiled 
 sadly and by and by asked about Constance Aylmer. 
 Sir Henry divined her thought. He replied, 
 
 "I doubt me if she ever returns to America. My 
 mother rejoiced but yesterday that she was removed 
 hence, and that her tender heart did not suffer the 
 horrors we have witnessed at Gravesend. I think, 
 too," he continued in a confidential tone, " there is 
 one who will never permit Constance to leave Eng 
 land, if my eyes saw aright while I abode there." Sir 
 Henry may be forgiven this last remark, since he said 
 it for the sake of lifting a load from Elsie's mind. 
 And it did remove her fears, and helped her wait 
 trustingly for her husband's return. 
 
 Sir Henry went back to Metje Wessell's inn, and, 
 shutting himself up, penned two letters which he 
 hoped would follow quickly in the wake of the ship 
 in which Mordaunt had sailed two weeks before. We 
 will glance at only one of them.
 
 330 CONSTAXOE AYLMEK. 
 
 New Amsterdam, 24th Dec., 1656. 
 
 DEAR MOEDAUNT. 
 
 May the winds that speed this to you, hold you in 
 durance, and so quit you from the danger of the law 
 to whose righteous clutches you are likely to innocent 
 ly commit yourself, for polygamy. Even if you reach 
 England prior to this, I trust in Constance's shyness 
 and good sense to hinder a hasty betrothal or publish 
 ing of bans quod avertat Deus ! 
 
 Your wife, Elsie, hath arisen out of the grave to 
 which she was consigned with many tears. I believe 
 you will not reproach her for this, since the timeliness 
 of her appearing will save you some sorrowful appeal 
 to the courts. Her sufferings in passing through the 
 wilderness must touch your pitiful love, and I think 
 you will find her trained by her trials into such sub 
 dued and womanly spirit, as may make you a more 
 pleased and willing prisoner to your marriage bonds. 
 
 As for me, I may soon pitch my tent beside you 
 in Virginia. My mother is almost persuaded to go 
 thither. We are now overwhelmed with guests whom 
 she hath succored in the terrible scourge that hath 
 fallen upon all about us. Many are without homes, 
 and, though they draw largely upon our hospitality, 
 my mother says, with the sweet patience that so well 
 befits her, that " both her health and her purse being 
 the gift of her Lord, she has naught to do, but spend 
 both in His service." I believe her wishes may all be 
 summed in this, " Utprosim! " 
 
 Your warning to me concerning George Baxter 
 was owlishly wise. I had him removed to the debtor's
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 331 
 
 room in the Stadt Huys. He hath forfeited bail and 
 escaped to New England, whereby my purse suffers 
 another leak, not so mildly borne as leaks to better 
 use. But this writing must suffice. We await your 
 return with impatient outlook. 
 
 Item. Mary Tilton is carried away prisoner by 
 the Indians. A large ransom may recover her if she 
 does not too quickly wilt, like a plucked heart's ease. 
 Yours, HENRY MOODY, Bart.
 
 332 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 THEEE was a gentle tap at Constance's chamber 
 door, a little while after we left her seeking heavenly 
 direction. It was Lady Grey, just returned from St. 
 Paul's Walk, where Lord D'Arcy had told her of Con 
 stance's illness and return home. 
 
 " My dear child, why did you not let me return 
 with you ? " she asked. 
 
 " I could not seek you without all eyes beholding 
 my suffering," Constance replied. 
 
 " What caused it ? " 
 
 " My heart doubtless," she answered, smiling. 
 
 " Have you suffered thus hitherto ? " asked Lady 
 Grey, alarmed. 
 
 " Twice, since I abode in England." 
 
 " Why then did you not make it known to me, 
 that I might summon a physician ? " was the reproach 
 ful question. 
 
 " Because I knew none had power to help me," 
 she replied sadly. Lady Grey was silent. Then she 
 spoke hesitatingly. 
 
 " Are you aware that heart-disease foretells sud 
 den deatli ? " 
 
 " Yes, I know it well," replied Constance, calmly. 
 
 "And you are unmoved ! Does such a summons 
 hold no fears for you ? " 
 
 a I will not say none. Life is very sweet. Yet
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 333 
 
 I seek to hold myself ready," said Constance. Tears 
 were springing to her eyes, but she made a strong 
 effort to repress them. There was a long silence. 
 
 " I confess I do not wholly understand you," said 
 Lady Grey, rallying. " You are at once so gentle 
 and so strong that you are a riddle to me, except I 
 keep in mind that you combine father and mother in 
 one. You face the possibilities of death, much as 
 Sir Egbert Aylmer faced persecution, and I can no 
 more mould you to my will than I could your Puritan 
 mother, albeit you are as mild as she. What is this 
 secret of your Puritan faith ? " 
 
 "I know no secret but this; nor by what name it 
 is truly signified. I desire to commit myself, and all 
 of which I hold the stewardship, to my Saviour, and 
 to live in such wise as not to offend him any more 
 than I would offend a most loving father and mother." 
 
 " Love is your secret then ! " said Lady Grey. u I 
 wish such love moved all the Puritans who seem so 
 filled with fear of God that they make life hatefully 
 solemn and bleak. It is this which repels us, and 
 causes such as Lord D'Arcy to delight in calling them 
 selves ' Kattleheads and Impuritans. 1 This reminds 
 me that Lord D'Arcy is offended that Alice does not 
 smile of late upon his railleries. She came one day 
 to your chamber door, to seek } r our help in working 
 some lace, when she was hindered at hearing the 
 voice of Rose within, pleading in such wise for her 
 before God, that she was melted to tears, and has been 
 troubled since." 
 
 " "We were holding our morning devotions," Con-
 
 334 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 stance explained, " which we have done since we came 
 hither." 
 
 " But-," said Lady Grey, with some coldness, " I 
 would not have you so disturb Alice as to hinder her 
 happiness with her future husband. She is well 
 enough an obedient daughter and I would not have 
 any Puritan leannigs thwart her marriage." 
 
 Constance was too surprised at this mother's evi 
 dent wish to secure an advantageous marriage, rather 
 than true peace of mind, to be able to make any re 
 ply. Lady Grey arose, and kissed her as if to heal 
 any wounds she might have inflicted. 
 
 " Command me, or any thing in my house for your 
 benefit or pleasure. I would there were more like 
 you," said she. 
 
 In going, she met Maurice, who came to summon 
 her below. She found Lord Huntington waiting for 
 her. He, also, had heard of Constance's illness at St. 
 Paul's Walk, and called to inquire how serious it 
 might be. Lady Grey explained, adding that she 
 would probably be in her usual strength to-morrow. 
 
 " But, madam, you shock me. Does she know 
 that this may one day prove suddenly fatal ? " 
 
 " Yes. She speaks as calmly as if the going out 
 of this world into another was a thing to be happily 
 endured." 
 
 Lord Huntington was indeed shocked. Such 
 tidings were so unlocked for ! So unwelcome, now ! 
 He arose and walked back and forth in silence, evi 
 dently agitated. Then suddenly stopping before 
 Lady Grey, he spoke to her in a low tone, but with
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 335 
 
 deliberate accent. It was her turn to show emo 
 tion. 
 
 " Tou do Constance a great honor," was her reply 
 to the question we have not heard. " It would give 
 us all happiness. But is not this sudden ? " 
 
 " No, madam. It was my resolve the first time I 
 saw her. This resolve has strengthened every hour 
 that I have since spent in her sweet company. Will 
 you be the bearer of my message ? " said he. 
 
 " Most willingly, my lord." 
 
 While he wrote it, Lady Grey sat wondering at 
 an event in which she had taken no pajt. That Con 
 stance, without her help, should have won the heart 
 of a man whom the most ambitious London belle had 
 not been able to compass, was more than she could 
 yet comprehend. The supposed absurdity of it had 
 utterly blinded her eyes, in all these months, to the 
 progress of an affection which Sir Henry, with better 
 appreciation, had perceived in the beginning. 
 
 " You will permit me to break these orange 
 flowers?" said Lord Huntington, interrupting her 
 thoughts. 
 
 " As many as please your purpose," she replied. 
 She always kept her apartments perfumed with the 
 choicest blossoms. The fragrance, if not the beauty 
 or gracefulness of the flowers, pleased her senses. 
 
 Lord Huntington sealed his note by thrusting 
 through it a stem laden with the significant blossoms. 
 It contained but few words. 
 
 " Give to me so much of your precious life as re-
 
 338 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 
 
 mains. The balmy air of France or Italy may unite 
 with my assiduous care to prolong a life more dear to 
 me than any other that earth holds. 
 
 " HUNTIXGTON." 
 
 He gave this to Lady Grey, and immediately re 
 turned home. Undoubtedly, lie expected an early 
 reply to a proposal made under such peculiar circum 
 stances, lie was disappointed in not hearing from 
 Constance that night, and still more, when he return 
 ed the next daj'-from the Parliament House and found 
 no answer. He had invited a friend to dine with him 
 that day, and gave himself as courteously to his en 
 tertainment as if no such disturbing weight was upon 
 his mind. This friend was no other than Mr. Mor- 
 daunt, whose arrival he had early discovered. 
 
 After dinner, when the cloth was removed, and 
 they sat together alone, Lord ITuntington asked Mr. 
 Mordaunt if it was his purpose to remain in England. 
 
 " The colonies do not attract me strongly," was the 
 reply, "yet I may go thither again. Such a decision 
 rests altogether with another." 
 
 " Indeed ? " remarked Lord II., waiting for further 
 explanation, if his friend chose to give it. 
 
 " You were once good enough to bestow an interest 
 upon my affairs," continued Mr. Mordaunt. "Per 
 haps it may not be amiss to make known to you the 
 reason of my voyage hither. I crave your help also." 
 
 " I am ever at your service," replied Lord II. 
 
 " I told you yesterday of the loss of my wife," he 
 added. " Elsie was a sprightly girl whom I married
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEE. 337 
 
 in a fit of jealous passion. I loved one, of whom I 
 can never speak with composure, knowing that, by my 
 own act, I lost as gracious a woman as ever lived ; 
 whose beauty and whose purity of soul can be com 
 pared to none other, and whose heart was so wholly 
 given to me that it well nigh folded her in the grave, 
 when she discovered what a gulf I had, by my own 
 will, fixed between us. My own sufferings when I 
 beheld in my right senses what folly I had commit 
 ted, were hardly less, as you may see in my bleached 
 locks." 
 
 "Do you seek now to repair that folly?" asked 
 Lord Huntington, with a keen pang of suspicion that 
 this gracious person was no other than Constance 
 Aylmer. He had not forgotten her agitation at the 
 sudden discovery of his acquaintance with Mordaunt. 
 
 " I would repair it, but I was dismayed yesterday 
 at the very beginning of my hopes," was the reply. 
 
 "That most sweet and gracious person is here 
 then." 
 
 " Yes. I met her yesterday in St. Paul's Walk, for 
 the first time since I saw her white face on my wed 
 ding-day. Her hand even rested in mine. But she 
 withdrew it, not with scorn, but with so great pain in 
 her countenance and so frightened an air, that I was 
 transfixed while she disappeared. I sought her again, 
 but could nowhere find her. I know not now how to 
 proceed without a friend, lest I offend her." 
 
 Lord Huntington sat in thoughtful reverie. There 
 was no longer any uncertainty. Constance's illness 
 was explained. She owed to this man the sufferings 
 15
 
 338 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 which would shorten her life. She loved him still, 
 doubtless. This was why no answer had yet been 
 returned to his own pleadings. 
 
 " I will serve you in this if the power lies in me 
 so to do," said he presently, rising and leading the 
 way to another apartment, for the sake of concealing 
 his own emotions. " I know of whom you speak. She 
 is at Lord Grey's, where I have liberty to see her. I 
 will prepare the way for you." 
 
 Mordaunt was overwhelmed at this discovery, at 
 so much unexpected interest, and at the happy turn 
 which events seemed taking. If he had not been so 
 entirely occupied with his own excited feelings, he 
 might have noticed the change which the countenance 
 of his noble friend had undergone since his coming, 
 and marked the rare thoughtfulness he bestowed upon 
 a matter which concerned only others. When the 
 latter added that he would see Constance to-day, and 
 that Mordaunt might call upon him to-morrow and 
 know her will iii receiving him, he was more than 
 satisfied, and went away rejoicing with fresh hope. 
 
 Lord Huntington was earnest and honorable in 
 this arrangement. He believed now that Constance 
 loved Mordaunt. Her happiness was above every 
 other consideration. He was generous enough even 
 to consent to intercede for his friend, though not with 
 out an inward struggle. Poignant as was his own 
 disappointment, he was willing to withdraw all claims 
 to her hand. With this intention, he went to Lord 
 Grey's. 
 
 He doubted if he could see her. Perhaps she was
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 339 
 
 not recovered. He was surprised therefore upon en 
 tering the drawing-room to see her there as freshly 
 beautiful as ever, and especially charming in a robe of 
 silver-grey, slashed with blue. She received him with 
 embarrassment, for she did not yet know how she 
 could reply to his' note of yesterday. She wished to 
 undeceive him if he supposed her heart had never 
 been given to another, and possibly this knowledge 
 might alter his affection for her. But she had resolv 
 ed to tell him all that had happened. He led her to 
 a seat and took a chair opposite her. 
 
 " I have come," said he, " to plead for a friend be 
 fore receiving your reply to my suit. I would in no 
 wise stand in the way of your best happiness. You 
 know that Mr. Mordaunt is come hither to seek you. 
 He has told me all. He is free to offer you his hand 
 once more, but, not understanding your emotion yes 
 terday, he cannot present himself in your presence 
 without permission." 
 
 Constance sat with downcast eyes. 
 
 " I did not then know that Elsie is no longer liv 
 ing. A letter from Sir Henry made every thing known 
 to me, after my return from St. Paul's." 
 
 " You will receive him, then. Forget my note ; 
 not that I willingly yield my own hopes of most ex 
 cellent happiness, but that I would do that which 
 most perfectly promotes yours," said Lord Huntington, 
 rising as if to end a painful interview. Constance 
 looked up, beseechingly. 
 
 " Do not go, my lord, I wish to speak with you of 
 this. Yesterday, I could have flown to you alone for
 
 340 COXSTAXCE ATLMER. 
 
 counsel, but my fears hindered me. To-day, since 
 you know all the sad history, I can unseal my lips. 
 Sit, I pray you, and answer me." Lord Huntington 
 needed no second appeal. He resumed his seat. 
 
 " Is it possible for one's being so to change that 
 things which once gave happiness can satisfy no 
 longer ? " 
 
 " Yes," was the emphatic reply. 
 
 " Is it possible, then, for one's heart to retain its 
 integrity if it plays false to that upon which it was 
 once fixed, and attaches itself to an infinitely more 
 satisfying object ? " 
 
 "Yes. You cannot stay the growth of the soul. 
 Its stronger needs may justly be supplied, if no laws 
 of God or man forbid." 
 
 " Then, to forsake the love of undeveloped youth 
 is not to be wholly condemned. You lighten my 
 doubts to assent thus. I am no more that Constance 
 who loved Edward Mordaunt, three years ago. I 
 believe now, he was not the being that the magic of 
 my fancy pictured him. That ideal which I loved so 
 fervently, is filled out wholly by another." 
 
 " And that other ? " said Lord Huntington, 
 
 bending his earnest eyes upon Constance's still down 
 cast face. 
 
 " Is Lord Huntington ! " she added in a trembling 
 voice. 
 
 " Constance ! My wife ! " he exclaimed, rising sud 
 denly and folding her in his arms. 
 
 And how was this to be told to Mr. Mordaunt ? Con 
 stance wished to see him. Lord Huntington could not
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 341 
 
 have the effrontery to keep the appointment the next 
 day, however upright his motives had been. Con 
 stance resolved to address him a note herself, request 
 ing an interview. She trusted that when he under 
 stood her frankly, he would suffer less keen disap 
 pointment 'than if she permitted him to return to 
 America without seeing her. The visit was according 
 ly arranged for the next day. 
 
 When the hour arrived, she found herself much 
 agitated. What could she say ? She began to be alarm 
 ed at the difficulty and delicacy of the subject. She 
 might have met it composedly without thought or 
 plan ; but the more she meditated what she ought to 
 say and what he would probably reply, the more she 
 shrank from the task. And to think it should ever 
 become a dreaded task to speak to Edward Mordaunt ! 
 She felt there was something sad in this changeful- 
 ness of one's nature. 
 
 He came at last. This was not like their first 
 meeting at St. Paul's. Constance was tremulous, but 
 open and cheerful. Mordaunt was graver than ever 
 she had seen him, but he possessed all the old ease 
 and nonchalance which had once so attracted her. 
 His handsome face still carried its romantic dreami 
 ness, his eyes still retained their habit of fixing upon 
 her countenance or studying the arrangement of her 
 dress, which had often* been a source of so much con 
 fusion to her. Even now, she felt the discomfort of 
 criticism, and almost expected him to find fault at 
 once with her slippers, or comment whimsically upon 
 the simplicity of her ornaments or the disposal of the
 
 342 CONSTANCE AYLMEK. 
 
 coil of her hair. She could not even now prevail 
 upon her eyes to meet his clearly, though remember 
 ing well how he used to chide her for this excessive 
 shrinking. So there she sat before him frightened and 
 trembling, not knowing what to say, although she had 
 summoned him. It was a relief to her when he broke 
 the silence. 
 
 " But for your note, Constance, I should not have 
 trusted myself to come hither. I should have fore- 
 borne to see you, and sailed for America in a few 
 days." 
 
 Constance looked up, her face full of timid inquiry. 
 She wondered if Lord Huntington had spared her the 
 necessity of explanation. He hesitated to continue. 
 At length he added slowly, and in a voice betraying 
 depression and almost despair, 
 
 "A letter, which seems to have pursued me on 
 the wings of the wind, reached me this morning, and 
 bids my speedy return. It kills all my hopes. It 
 binds me an unwilling prisoner. It is no more pos 
 sible for me to throw myself at your feet, and seek to 
 repair that woeful wound I inflicted not only upon 
 you, but upon myself, also. I am forced to abide by 
 the destiny I chose in my madness." 
 
 Constance's eyes were fixed intently upon him. 
 Mordaunt hardly dared to proceed. If she still loved 
 him, might not this second trjal break, altogether, 
 the cord which had once almost snapped asunder 
 through his cruelty ? But seeing her suspense, he 
 asked, 
 
 " "Would it be sorrowful to you, still, to know that
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 343 
 
 Elsie that my wife is living ? was saved from the 
 wreck ? " 
 
 Surprise at this announcement, sympathy and pity 
 for Mordaunt, relief from the unwilling task she had 
 to perform, grateful joy that she had been saved from 
 fixing her heart longer upon this man, all together 
 crowded into Constance's thoughts and overcame her 
 with tears. Mordaunt longed to shelter, to console 
 her; but his honor bound him. He could say no 
 more. He could only bow his head with a sense of 
 humiliation and sorrow that was agonizing. 
 
 "I would not have you misunderstand my tears," 
 said Constance. " It is well, it is happiest for us all, 
 that you know that Elsie lives. That which I would 
 say and know not how to speak will not so wound 
 you, since your destiny is fixed without me. My love 
 which you can no more seek, is flown so that you 
 could not find it, even though you were free. I still 
 feel tenderly toward you, remembering those sweet 
 days at Moody Hall. You will always remain in my 
 thoughts with a strange interest, unlike that I hold 
 for others ; yet my love is given to another." 
 
 "To Lord Huntington!" exclaimed Mordaunt. 
 " Fool that I did not see it ! " 
 
 " He interceded for you, Edward, believing truly 
 that I might be so minded as not to forsake you for 
 him." There was so much of the old uprising of a 
 jealous spirit and wounded sensibility in Mordaunt, 
 that Constance took his hand appealingly. 
 
 " I do not speak thus to wound you. I would not 
 willingly do that. It is only that you may return
 
 344/ CONSTANCE AYLMER. 
 
 with an eased and glad heart to Elsie, holding your 
 self forever free from regrets for me. Our sorrow 
 thus healed, is not without some precious fruits. 
 We have both grown into larger natures doubtless, 
 through suffering. This world, at once so bright and 
 so dark, may yet yield to us much sweet happiness 
 the more sweet for the hope of reaching a higher 
 heaven, after this life." 
 
 Mordaunt made no reply. This silence was pain 
 ful to both. At last he arose, and grasping her hand, 
 kissed it fervently, and said with broken utterance, 
 
 " God bless you ! precious Constance ! Farewell, 
 farewell on earth ! " He turned, and without once 
 looking back, left the room, and went quickly away 
 to his inn. 
 
 Constance did not see him again. He sailed the 
 following week in " The Hope" for New Amsterdam. 
 
 Lord Huntington was anxious to convey Constance 
 to the Continent, both to enjoy the invigorating air, 
 and with the hope that a calm, happy life might de 
 lay, and perhaps altogether arrest the progress of the 
 dread disease, which she had so silently contemplated 
 as fatal. At his wish not to be disputed the be- 
 trothment was celebrated immediately, and the mar 
 riage appointed for May. Lady Grey desired to give 
 a magnificent wedding ; Constance wished it to take 
 place with quiet elegance, and she prevailed in her 
 calm way. 
 
 " You will at least no longer refuse diamonds, as 
 not befitting your estate," said Lady Grey, in deciding
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 845 
 
 upon the important trousseau. Constance looked at 
 her in dismay. 
 
 " I have nothing wherewith to buy them ! .Are 
 they indeed needful ? Will Lord Huntington think 
 me poorly arrayed without them ? " 
 
 " Your whole quarterly income lies untouched," 
 replied her aunt with slight asperity. " That will 
 not forbid a moderate purchase of jewels, beside a 
 handsome wardrobe." 
 
 " It is wholly gone ! " exclaimed Constance, not a 
 little frightened at Lady Grey's expected displeasure. 
 
 " Gone ? Whither ? " 
 
 " Over the sea. I sent it all to those homeless 
 people in Gravesend, who have not where to lay their 
 heads, as Aunt Deborah wrote me. I did think I 
 could well spare it for their sufferings, when I pos 
 sessed so abundant happiness here." 
 
 " You did wisely not to consult me," said Lady 
 Grey, vexed exceedingly. " I wonder that you ven 
 tured upon this alone." 
 
 " Lord Grey did not condemn me. lie smiled 
 upon me, and himself conveyed it to Mr. Mordaunt." 
 
 " It is altogether like him to permit so foolish an 
 outlay." 
 
 " He thought, no more than I, that my needs would 
 demand a large sum so speedily," said Constance, in 
 reply. She sat thoughtful, and, Lady Grey hoped, 
 penitent. But she added presently, "Even though 
 I had known my need, I believe I could not have for 
 borne to send wherewith to comfort those sorrowing 
 people. I could not justly have kept it to spend 
 15*
 
 346 CONSTANCE ATLMER. 
 
 upon baubles to shine for a day upon my bosom. I 
 believe Lord Huntington will forgive ray lack of 
 jewels, for the sake of those people I love and 
 pity." 
 
 " You are truly worthy of a republican court," 
 said Lady Grey, scornfully. " But you shall not lack 
 what is needful. You must submit these decisions to 
 my better experience." 
 
 Thus it was settled. Lady Grey would permit 
 nothing but the costliest raiment, and therefore Con 
 stance was not Puritanic in her bridal-dress. On the 
 morning of the brilliant wedding, she found a package 
 on her dressing-table, containing four-fold the sum 
 which her aunt had condemned her for expending too 
 generously. A note accompanied it, with only these 
 words : 
 
 " Give, and it shall be given unto you ; good 
 measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and 
 running over, shall men give into your bosom. For 
 with the same measure that ye mete withal, it shall 
 be measured to you again." 
 
 Constance knew that Lady Grey did not send it. 
 
 A few days afterward, Lord and Lady Huntington 
 sailed for France. In parting, Lady Alice whispered 
 some earnest words. 
 
 " I have loved and hated yoii, all at once, if that 
 
 were possible," she said. " Your life, since you came 
 
 -hither, has preached more loudly to my conscience 
 
 than any of Mr. Goodwin's sermons. I am sorely 
 
 vexed in spirit."
 
 CONSTANCE AYLMER. 347 
 
 " Say, ' my Savior, take me as I am, and mould 
 me to thy will.' " 
 
 "Lord D'Arcy stands between!" replied Lady 
 Alice. 
 
 "Let none stand between your soul and God," 
 said Constance, turning to go. She turned back 
 again, and added, "Alice, my cousin, speak your 
 thoughts to your father." 
 
 " I cannot, I fear my mother ! " she whispered, 
 with tears filling her eyes. A kiss, a loving embrace, 
 and Constance was gone. 
 
 Need we go again across the sea, and follow that 
 stately file of mourners, conveying the body of lyano 
 to rest with his people ? Need we look with Elsie 
 for the coming of the ship which will bring back to 
 her a more tender husband than when they parted at 
 Jamestown, so long ago ? "We will leave them all ; 
 adding only that Lady Moody and Sir Henry sought 
 a new home in Virginia, and that history records, 
 later, the reception of Sir Henry as ambassador to 
 New Amsterdam.
 
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