St. George and St. Michael, Volume 3MacDonald, George
History
St. George and St. Michael, Volume 3
MacDonald, George
Great Britain -- History -- Civil War, 1642-1649 -- Fiction
'Wouldst thou then love me a little, Dorothy, if I vowed to be thy
scholar, and study to be good? Give me some hope to help me in the
hard task.'
'He that is good is good for goodness' sake, Rowland. Yet who can
fail to love that which is good in king or knave?'
'Ah! but do not mock me, Dorothy: such is not the love I would have
of thee.'
'It is all thou ever canst have of me, and methinks it is not like
thou wilt ever have it, for verily thou art of nature so light that
any wind may blow thee into the Dead Sea.'
From a saint it was enough to anger any sinner.
'I see!' cried Scudamore. 'For all thy fine reproof, thou too canst
spurn a heart at thy feet. I will lay my life thou lovest the
round-head, and art but a traitress for all thy goodness.'
'I am indeed traitress enough to love any roundhead gentleman better
than a royalist knave,' said Dorothy; and turning from him she
sought the grand staircase.
CHAPTER XLI.
GLAMORGAN.
The winter passed, with much running to and fro, in foul weather and
fair; and still the sounds of war came no nearer to Raglan, which
lay like a great lion in a desert that the hunter dared not arouse.
The whole of Wales, except a castle or two, remained subject to the
king; and this he owed in great measure to the influence and
devotion of the Somersets, his obligation to whom he seemed more and
more bent on acknowledging.
One day in early summer lady Margaret was sitting in her parlour,
busy with her embroidery, and Dorothy was by her side assisting her,
when lord Herbert, who had been absent for many days, walked in.
'How does my lady Glamorgan?' he said gaily.
'What mean you, my Herbert?' returned his wife, looking in his eyes
somewhat eagerly.
'Thy Herbert am I no more; neither plume I myself any more in the
spare feathers of my father. Thou art, my dove, as thou deservest to
be, countess of Glamorgan, in the right of thine own husband, first
earl of the same; for such being the will of his majesty, I doubt
not thou wilt give thy consent thereto, and play the countess
graciously. Come, Dorothy, art not proud to be cousin to an earl?'
'I am proud that you should call me cousin, my lord,' answered
Dorothy; 'but truly to me it is all one whether you be called
Herbert or Glamorgan. So thou remain thou, cousin, and my friend,
the king may call thee what he will, and if thou art pleased, so am
I.'
It was the first time she had ever thou'd him, and she turned pale
at her own daring.
'St. George! but thou hast well spoken, cousin!' cried the earl.
'Hath she not, wife?'
'So well that if she often saith as well, I shall have much ado not
to hate her,' replied lady Glamorgan. 'When didst thou ever cry
"well spoken" to thy mad Irishwoman, Ned?'
'All thou dost is well, my lady. Thou hast all the titles to my
praises already in thy pocket. Besides, cousin Dorothy is young and
meek, and requireth a little encouragement.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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