The audacity of the remark, and the happy calmness with which it was proffered, were irresistible. All the ladies, except the Chancellor, laughed. The Duchess loudly. This little escapade of youth and ignorance amused her. Constance laughed too, with a little pity. The Professor laughed with some show of shame, as if Lord Chester’s ignorance reflected in a manner upon herself.
Then the Chancellor went on again with some temper.
‘Let me resume. It is my duty to consider nothing but the interests of my ward. Very good. I have considered them. My Lord Chester, in giving your hand to the Duchess of Dunstanburgh, I serve your best and highest interests. The case is decided. There is no more to be said.’
‘There is, on the contrary, much more to be said,’ observed Constance. ‘I give your ladyship notice of appeal to the House of Peeresses. I shall appeal to them, and to the nation through them, whether your decision in this case is reasonable, just, and in accordance with the interests of your ward.’
This was, indeed, a formidable threat. An appeal to the House meant, with such fighting-power as Constance and her party, although a minority, possessed, and knew how to direct, a delay of perhaps six months, even if the case came on from day to day. Even the practised old Duchess, used to the wordy warfare of the House, shrank from such a contest.
‘You will not, surely, Lady Carlyon,’ she said, ‘drag your cousin’s name into the Supreme Court of Appeal.’
‘I certainly will,’ replied Constance.
‘It will cost hundreds of thousands, and months—months of struggle.’
‘As for the cost, that is my affair; as for the delay, I can wait—perhaps longer than your Grace.’
The Duchess said no more. Twice had Lady Carlyon insulted her. But her revenge would wait.