FLORENCE O'NEILL; CHAPTER IX.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume III, Issue 124, 10 September 1875, Page 6

FLORENCE O'NEILL; CHAPTER IX.

PLAYING WITH KDGB TOOLS. With an appearance of calmness and composure, which she -ft as, ' however, far from feeling, Florence prepared to accompany her ' uncle to the palace : on. arriving at which slie was at once shown into the boudoir of the queen. This favorite sitting-room of Mary was hung with pale blue ' ailk, the draperies and curtains festooned and looped with silver, the ottomans and couches beinj,' also covered with the same material. Tables of curiously inlaid wood supported vases of precious metals ; so:ne were filled with the choicest exotics, others exhaled an almost oppressive odour from the perfumes burning within them, so that as Florence entered the apartment a sense of faintnesa stole over her, but she remembcrel tlio necessity there was for calmness and composure in the presence of the queen ; and, leaning on the arm of Lord Clarendon, with a cheek only a shade paler, perhaps, than usual, the heiress of the O'Neill's approached Mary with a firm step, and gracefully kneeling, pressed to her lips the small white hand so gracious extended. The features of the unfortunate line of the Stuarts were strongly delineated m Mary's oval countcuance, and as the eyea of Florence fell on her tall and still graceful form, her pleasing and regular features and air of quiet dignity, they encountered the ■crutiny of those dark, sparkling eyes bent so curiously upon herself. Graciously, too, did the queen welcome the baronet. Then, after a few common-place observations, she hazarded the remark: " You have been some time at St. Germains ; how fared it with my father when you left Prance ?" Then, as if suddenly recollecting herself, conscious that her words might seem to bear a different meaning than that which she wished to express, she added, whilst the slightest perceptible colour mantled her cheek, " I mean is his health good, as also that of his consort V" " His Majesty was well, as also my gracious mistress," said Florence ; " and pleased, indeed, will they be to hear that I, already so favored by their notice, should also have been honored by your majesty's gracious reception of my poor self." " And you do not meditate a return to St. Germains ?"■ said Mary, fixing her eves with a penetrating glance on the features

of Florence. " No, that cannot be, if rumour speaks correctly, for it is said that you are betrothed to Sir Reginald St. John, one of the most favored of our beloved lord and consort ; nay, our own royal favor has been sought in this matter j but of that later. We know that Sir Reginald is of himself deserving, and we see that the lady he has chosen has even more than her fair share of woman's charms; but, as we have already said, we will speak of this later, at a more fitting time, and then devise measures for your nuptials, and make arrangements it may bo, for your future wellbeing near our person." Then, turning to her uncle, Lord Clarendon, Mary entered into a long and animated discussion respecting the contemplated departure of the king, leaving Florence a prey to any but pleasurable emotions. Had she dared to express the filings of her heart she could not have done so, for Mary had purposely contrived her speech cunningly enough, leaving her no room to expostulate, assuming for granted that she was graciously furthering the most ardent desires of the girl's heart, and so clrsing her speech as to afford Florence no chance of escape, without being guilty of the | flagrant breach of etiquette by interrupting the queen whilst I speaking, or rudely breaking in when she was addressing the earl. ! But Mary was far too penetrating in her judgment, and too ' clear-headed to be at all deceived. Her speech had been artfully | contrived. She knew well that Florence was one of the most ardent admirers o r the unfortunate Mary of Modena, that she had broken off her proposed union with Sir Reginald solely because the latier was attached to her coxirt, that the girl's -whole heart was centred in the weal of the exiled James, and that she was anxiously looking forward to the time of her return to St. Germains. But the queen had resolved she should not pee St. Germains again if she could help it, that she should marry Sir Reginald, and | moreover, little by little, she would manage to extort, having first gained access to her heart "by the exercise of ail those blandishments of which she was mistress, a full account of all that was passing in France. It remained, however, for time to show whether the queen could bo easily manage her new prey as slie supposed ; but be that as it may, the latter folt, when too late, that she had played a rather dangerous game in coming to London, or being there, by failing to preserve the strictest incognito ; and still more embarrassed was she wheu, at the moment of parting, Mary, with the same gracious tone and manner, addressing- herself to the baronet, said : ' ' You will not forget, Sir Charles, that we shall use all our influence to promote this affair of the nuptials of your niece. We have felt much interested in the Lady Florence, in consequence of the reports which have reached our ears of her beauty and worth; and ascertaining from tlio king that Sir Ueginald has but recently left the metropolis for- Ireland, I have obtained his promise that he shall be at once summoned back to England." Much as Florence wished to speak she dared not, but merely bowed her acknowledgments, whilst the baronet was profuse inhia , thanks for the interest the queen evinced in her welfare ; and with a heart full ot gloomy apprehensions for the future, Florence ac1 companied her uncle back to his residence. Alone in her boudoir, the queen moodily watched their departure, accompaaied"by her uncle, the E«xl ot Clarendon, and with i compressed lips, and fiug-ers nervously clutched together, she exclaimed, aloud : " Well met, a pretty trio i'faith. In the girl I take some little interest, and will mould her to my will ; but if she prove rebellious — well, aye, what then ? Suppose she is of a stubborn nature, i Yet, no ; with this St. John daily, hourly beside her, she will be1 come all I wish to see her, a willing tool in my hands. She does not like my proposal, however, for I saw the colour in her cheeks 1 come and go when I spoke of her staying here, and of my hastening 1 1 her nuptials. And as to you, my beautiful uncle," continued the queen, with increased irritatioa, as she beheld Lord Clarendon pabsing through the court-yard beneath her window, " I have you ' fast, and will take care you are safely ca<jed in the Tower, if in the slightest way you are found to have any share in this new conspiracy, a rumour of which has reached us, and in which your name is coupled wiLli that of fair mistress Florence, and others we had thought affected to our persons, airl if — " " Aye, indeed, if they are guilty lut them have such mercy as they deserve," said the voice of Williivn of Orange, who, unobserved, had entered the boudoir aad overheard the soliloquy of the queen. " I tell you, Mary," said William, "to watch Clarendon well, and do not suffer his relationship to yourself to mar the^ cuds of justice. Trust me, he is not faithful to our interests." " I know it," said Mary, fixing her eyes reproachfully on her husband, " but do not speak to a wife devoted and tender as myself of any thought of family connectives being suffered to clash with the duty I owe to you. Ah my beloved one," she continued, clasping her husband' b hand tenderly within her own, " cared I ever for my kindred when you wore coucoraed ; cared I even for the father of whom I was the most indulged and favored child; have I not ever been the mo&t dutiful and submissive wife, and when I had left, home and kindred lor you, did I not soon tear from my heart, whether at your bidding or not, exerj emotion of old home affection, so that I might be the more truly and entirely yours ?" " Well, yes; I must give to you the praise you have deserved, and own you have done your duty in my regard," said William. " I have found you generally faithful in these points, and when remiss a few words oi" admonition have set you in the right path . again, though remember, for your caution, if ever tempted to err again in this regard, thut I encountered difficulty with you in days ■ i gone by." • ! The fine eyes of Mazy filled with tears as again she gazed reproachfully on her husband. I | " Ah, my best beloved," she said, " remind me not of my i | former shortcomings, which, God kaoweth, I have long since

bitterly atored for by many a tear in the long hours of your absence from my side. I tell you onco more that Clarendon shall suCei 1 ■everely should we find him in the slightest way implicated in this rising. Small mercy shall he meet with, any more than if he were on alien to my blood ; or, indeed, the fair Florence O'Neill either, should shj be involved or mixed up with mischief, as the protege of my gracious step-mother is likely to be." " Ah, indeed, and pending that matter of the girl," said the king, " I have sent to Ireland to require the immediate return of St. John, and if it be true that she has dared refuse him for his known fidelity to myself, it will be matter for conjecture as to what course she will now pursue." " Poor fool," said Mary, laughing, " did I not dislike her for the unwarrantable prejudice she presumes to entertain against us, I could almost have pitied the agitation she suffered when I spoke of our interesting ourselves to hasten her wedding, and that you had summoned St. John hither. She played her part well, but is tco unsophisticated to have gained any mastery over her feaUires. Indeed, the mistress whom she almost adores, for she regards Mary j of Modena. I have been told, with feelings little short of veneration, has taught h«r no lesson on this point, for she herself is the cres tnre cf impulse, as your majesty well knows, and by iook, or word, or hasty exclamation, is sure to discover to the world all she feels ; and no small wonder that this minion, who holds her in such j veneration, imitates the idol at whoso shrine she bows. But I will watch her well and closely, and if I find foul play to your interests, my liege, depend on i f , your loving wife will not spare her power to avenge and punish, whether the transgressor be Clarendon, in whose veins my own blood flows, or the fair descendant of tho O'Neill's, on whose face I never looked till now." Thus spoke the wife of William of Orange, when bidding adieu for a few hours to the man at whose word she had forsworn every other tie and trampled under foot the holiest affections of our nature. It is a historical fact that it was the constant aim of William to root out of her heart every natural emotion ; and well did he succeed ; for she soon imbibed the naturally cold, apathetic disposition of her husband, and centred all her ambition in deserving the epithet of a humble and obedient wife. It is hard to look back into the records of the time of which we write, and not feel indignant at the ra bservient devotedncss of this rnisguiaed princess, who, whilst she deliberately crushed every emotion of filial affection beneath her feet, carried her attachment to her husband to a maudlin sentimentality, servile in her submissiveness, and idolatrous in her love of one who, cold as was his nature, bad a warmer spot in his heart for another than his wife, and who, to say the least, was but a cold and indifferent husband.