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Here was this beauteous woman chatelaine and queen, wife of her
husband as never before, he thought, had wife blessed and glorified
the existence of mortal man. All her great beauty she gave to him
in tender, joyous tribute; all her great gifts of mind and wit and
grace it seemed she valued but as they were joys to him; in his
stately households in town and country she reigned a lovely empress,
adored and obeyed with reverence by every man or woman who served
her and her lord. Among the people on his various estates she came
and went a tender goddess of benevolence. When she appeared amid
them in the first months of her wedded life, the humble souls
regarded her with awe not unmixed with fear, having heard such wild
stories of her youth at her father's house, and of her proud state
and bitter wit in the great London world when she had been my Lady
Dunstanwolde; but when she came among them all else was forgotten in
their wonder at her graciousness and noble way.
"To see her come into a poor body's cottage, so tall and grand a
lady, and with such a carriage as she hath," they said, hobnobbing
together in their talk of her, "looking as if a crown of gold should
sit on her high black head, and then to hear her gentle speech and
see the look in her eyes as if she was but a simple new-married
girl, full of her joy, and her heart big with the wish that all
other women should be as happy as herself, it is, forsooth, a
beauteous sight to see."
"Ay, and no hovel too poor for her, and no man or woman too sinful,"
was said again.
"Heard ye how she found that poor wench of Haylits lying sobbing
among the fern in the Tower woods, and stayed and knelt beside her
to hear her trouble? The poor soul has gone to ruin at fourteen,
and her father, finding her out, beat her and thrust her from his
door, and her Grace coming through the wood at sunset--it being her
way to walk about for mere pleasure as though she had no coach to
ride in--the girl says she came through the golden glow as if she
had been one of God's angels--and she kneeled and took the poor
wench in her arms--as strong as a man, Betty says, but as soft as a
young mother--and she said to her things surely no mortal lady ever
said before--that she knew naught of a surety of what God's true
will might be, or if His laws were those that have been made by man
concerning marriage by priests saying common words, but that she
surely knew of a man whose name was Christ, and He had taught love
and helpfulness and pity, and for His sake, He having earned our
trust in Him, whether He was God or man, because He hung and died in
awful torture on the Cross--for His sake all of us must love and
help and pity--'I you, poor Betty,' were her very words, 'and you
me.' And then she went to the girl's father and mother, and so
talked to them that she brought them to weeping, and begging Betty
to come home; and also she went to her sweetheart, Tom Beck, and
made so tender a story to him of the poor pretty wench whose love
for him had brought her to such trouble, that she stirred him up to
falling in love again, which is not man's way at such times, and in
a week's time he and Betty went to church together, her Grace
setting them up in a cottage on the estate."
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