tanding in the middle of the floor in dumb surprise and chagrin. In a
moment Lord Cedric returned, and his voice rang steel as he faced her,
nor was there shadow of pity as he saw her white face grow ghastly in
fear.

"Thou, Constance, art the receptacle of all the damned ills flung from
mortals, whether of the mind or body. As for soul, that unknown thing
to thee--thou canst not recognize in another and therefore canst take
on nothing of it save its punishment hereafter, when thou shalt have
no choice of condiment. Thy heart lies festering in the rheum that
exuviates from its foul surroundings. Conscience thou art bankrupt of,
and in its place doth lurk the bawd that envenoms thy senses and turns
thy narrow body into prodigious corruption--"

"Cedric,--my God; stay thy tongue!"

"Nay, nay; my tongue is a well-matched Jehu for thy devil's race. I
would I might scorch thee with it, to give thee foretaste of that to
come; perchance 'twould seethe thy rottenness to the quick--if thou
of that art not also bereft--and turn thee from thy course. Thou dost
pander for the King's son and steal an innocent maid of unripe years
to gratify his lust--ah, 'sdeath! thou art but a pernicious wench,
as false as hell. And when the nurse whispered that 'twould save the
child from shame, thy protrusile tang-of-a-serpent didst sibilate in
his ready ear a denial--"

"Cedric, Cedric; cease, I pray!" And Constance fell upon her knees
sobbing. But the young lord's storm had not yet spent itself, and he
sped on in fury:

"I would thy noxious blood had all run out ere mingling with its
better, and I had naught of so foul a taint within. If I held the
apothecary's skill, I would open my veins and purge from them thy
jaundiced blood and let in slime of snakes and putrid matter to
sweeten the vessel thus set free--"

"My lord, we must hasten. The maid is ready to depart with her
nurse," said Sir Julian. As the young lord turned to him, Lady
Constance--crushed and broken--said,--

"Couldst thou not see why I have so misused my better self; have thine
eyes been blind all these years not to see how I have loved thee,
Cedric--thee--thee--with all my heart and soul?"

"I would not hear thee prate of anything so sacred as love,--'tis
sacrilege."

"Nay, not so, Cedric! I love thee more than heaven. I love thy scorn,
if to be free from it were to deprive me of thy presence. I would
follow thee to the end of time, even though thy brow lowered in