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Updated: June 29, 2025
"What will she do with him?" said a flippant modish lady to his Grace of Osmonde one morning. "How will she know how to bear herself like a woman of quality?" "Should you once behold her, madam," said his Grace, "you will know how she would bear herself were she made Queen." "Faith!" exclaimed the lady, "with what a grave, respectful air you say it. I thought the young creature but a joke."
These, in sooth, were near their hearts; and there was reason they should be, no nobleman being more just and kindly to his tenants than his Grace of Osmonde, and no lady more deservedly beloved and looked up to with admiring awe than his young Duchess, now being tenderly watched over at Camylott Tower by one of Queen Catherine's own physicians and a score of assistants, nurses, and underlings.
Yet, when the young heir of the house of Osmonde entered the University, this was the position he held and which none disputed.
If he had wondered at her when she had been my Lady Dunstanwolde, as her Grace of Osmonde he regarded her with heavy awe. Never had she been able to lead him to visit her at her house in town or at any other which was her home. "'Tis all too grand for me, your Grace," he would say; "I am a country yokel, and have hunted and drank, and lived too hard to look well among town gentlemen.
She turned to his Grace of Osmonde, who was near, waving her fan languishing. "Has your Grace heard that story?" she asked.
"True true!" he said. "At times, Gerald, I think perhaps you know her better than I. More than once your chance speech of her has shown so clear a knowledge. 'Tis because your spirit is like to her own." Osmonde arose and went to a cabinet, which he unlocked. "I have hid here," he said, "somewhat which I must show you. It should be yours or hers and has a story."
One night at a grand rout, the Duke of Osmonde but just having left the reigning beauty's side, she heard the voice she hated close by her, speaking. "You think you can disdain me to the end," it said. "Your ladyship is sure so?" She did not turn or answer, and there followed a low laugh. "You think a man will lie beneath your feet and be trodden upon without speaking. You are too high and bold."
These two men were the Duke of Osmonde and Sir John Oxon. 'Twas the soberer and more dignified who were sure his Grace had but to proffer his suit to gain it, and their sole wonder lay in that he did not speak more quickly.
Osmonde slowly withdrew his hand, and turning to the kneeling woman with a pallor like that of marble, but with a noble tenderness and pity in his eyes "My lady," he said, "you are a brave woman. Your great courage must sustain you. The heart beats no more. A noble life is finished."
The bells pealed at intervals throughout the day in at least five villages over which his Grace of Osmonde was lord at Roxholm they pealed, at Marlowell Dane, at Paulyn Dorlocke, at Mertounhurst, at Camylott and in each place, when night fell, bonfires were lighted and oxen roasted whole, while there were dancing and fiddling and drinking of ale on each village green.
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