To recall those five precious minutes, indeed, was afterwards to experience a sense of humiliation which, while it crimsoned her cheek, made her heart and pulse to beat, and sent the blood coursing through her veins. She felt so feeble and so small, but then her lover was so strong. Could she have believed it possible that the will of a man should thus be able to overpower her? Why, she made no resistance at all while her cousin in this unheard-of manner betrayed a passion which ... which ... yes, by all the principles of holy religion, by all the rules of society, by all the teaching which inculcated submission, patience, and waiting to be chosen, caused this young man to deserve punishment--condign, sharp, exemplary. And yet--what did this mean? Constance felt her heart go forth to him. She loved him the more for his masterfulness; she was prouder of herself because of his great passion. That was what she thought afterwards. What she did, when she began to recover, was to free herself and hide her burning face in her hands. 'Edward,' she whispered, 'we are mad. And I, who should have known better, am the more culpable. Let us forget this moment. Let us respect each other. Let us be silent.' 'Respect?' he echoed. 'Why, who could respect you, Constance, more than I do? Silence? Yes, for a while. Forget? Never!' 'It is wrong, it is irreligious,' she faltered. 'Wrong! Oh, Constance, let us not, between ourselves, talk the foolish unrealities of school and pulpit.' 'Oh, Edward!'--she looked about her in terror--'for Heaven's sake do not blaspheme. If any were to hear you. For words less rebellious men have been sent to the prisons for life.' He laughed. This young infidel laughed at law as he laughed at religion. 'Have patience,' Constance went on, trying to get into her usual frame of mind; but she was shaken to the very foundation, and at the moment actually felt as if her religion was turned upside down and her allegiance transferred to the Perfect Man. 'Have patience, Edward; you will yet win through to the higher faith. Many a young man overpowered by his strength, as you have been, has had his doubts, and yet has landed at last upon the solid rock of truth.' Edward made no reply to this, not even by a smile. It was not a moment in which the ordinary consolations of religion, so freely offered by women to men, could touch his soul. He took out his watch and remarked that the time was getting on, and that the Chancellor's appointment must be kept. 'With her ladyship, I suppose,' he said, 'we shall find the painted, ruddled, bewigged old hag who has the audacity to ask me--_me_--in marriage.' Constance caught his hand. 'Edward! cousin! are you mad? Are you proposing to seek a prison at once? Hag? old? painted? ruddled? And this of the Duchess of Dunstanburgh? Are you aware that the least of these charges is actionable at common law? For my sake, Edward, if not your own, be careful.'