"Indeed, it doth seem to me also like a very long time to wait," and she sighed heavily. At this Monmouth drew her down and kissed her upon her thin, arrogant lips. She, well-nigh beside herself, exclaimed in a thin, high voice,—
"Ah, ah, Duke, thou dost kill me—I must hasten away from thee. I must go." She spurred her horse; but the Duke caught the rein and held it fast.
"Nay, nay, thou shalt not yet be gone. Wouldst thou be so cruel to leave me now at Love's first onset? I will not have it!"
"But I must hasten,—I am riding alone, and some one will be sent for me if I do not soon return to the castle."
"Thou must give me promise first, sweet one!"
"Promise,—promise of what?" and she listened eagerly to his next words.
"Dost thou not covet a Prince's favour?" Constance' heart fluttered mightily, and she thought—"A fig for Cedric's love of me. He loves not at all, compared with this man's warm passion. Cedric loves me not at all, anyway. I will be a Prince's favourite," and she answered,—
"I never covet that which is beyond my reach." 'Tis often a true thing that when we sit within our dark and dismal chamber without comfort, hope or happy retrospection, there stands upon the threshold a joyous phenomenon of which we have never so much as dreamt as being in existence; and this had come to Constance. If the Duke loved her, what would it matter if Cedric did love Katherine? She could not compel him to love her.
"Ah, sweet Katherine, how can one covet that they already possess? I would teach thee to enjoy all that such beauty as thine is heir to. Thou wilt come to me to-night?"
"To-night!" and Lady Constance fairly gasped.