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 BOTTOMLEY
Geriatric Rehabilitation
A Textbook for the Physical Therapist Assistant
As the aging population continues to increase, so does the need
for a text specific to the specialized care of the elderly patient as Each pathological area
it applies to the physical therapist assistant student, faculty, and covered includes:
clinician. • Screening, assessment, and
evaluation

A Textbook for the Physical Therapist Assistant

Geriatric Rehabilitation
Geriatric Rehabilitation: A Textbook for the Physical Therapist • Treatment prescription
Assistant, recognizes the growing role of the PTA in a variety of • Goal setting
• Modification of treatment
heath care settings from acute to home to long-term care settings,
• Anticipated outcomes
to name a few. • Psychosocial, pharmacological,
and nutritional elements
Inside Geriatric Rehabilitation, Dr. Jennifer Bottomley, along with
Some pathological
her contributors, focuses on the clinically relevant assessment,
conditions covered:
treatment, and management of the geriatric population. Pathological
manifestations commonly seen in the elderly patient are addressed
•
•
Cardiovascular disease
Cancer
Geriatric Rehabilitation
from a systems perspective, as well as a focus on what is seen •
•
Arthritis
Alzheimer’s disease
A Textbook for the
clinically and how it affects function.

The organization and presentation of the practical, hands-on

• Aging with life-long disabilities
Some of the features inside
Physical Therapist Assistant
components of interventions, assessments, and decision-making include:
skills make this a go-to text for the PTA to administer comprehensive • Emphasis on treatment
interventions–techniques, tips, and
geriatric care at each point along the continuum of care. options
• Focus on how assessment tools
Geriatric Rehabilitation: A Textbook for the Physical Therapist and treatments are applied and
Assistant answers the call for a text that focuses on the management modified to benefit the geriatric
population, and what the expected
of geriatric patients across the spectrum of care for the PTA, from outcomes are
students to those practicing in geriatric populations. • Clear and outlined chapter
objectives
• User-friendly summary tables in
the nutritional and pharmacology
Jennifer Bottomley
chapters
• Pearls that highlight important PTA Advisors:
chapter information
• Appendices and study aids
Peggy DeCelle Newman
Karen Ryan
Stacy Potvin

slackbooks.com

MEDICAL/Allied Health Services/Physical Therapy

SLACK Incorporated
 Jennifer M. Bottomley PT, MS, PhD2
Geriatric Rehabilitation Consultant & Educator

Boston, Massachusetts

PTA Advisors:

Peggy DeCelle Newman PT, MHR

Karen Ryan PTA

Stacy Potvin PTA

www.slackbooks.com

ISBN: 978-1-55642-816-6

Copyright © 2010 by SLACK Incorporated

Cover Illustration Copyright © 2010 DL Bottomley. All rights reserved.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means,
electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher, except for brief quota-
tions embodied in critical articles and reviews.

The procedures and practices described in this book should be implemented in a manner consistent with the professional standards
set for the circumstances that apply in each specific situation. Every effort has been made to confirm the accuracy of the information
presented and to correctly relate generally accepted practices. The authors, editor, and publisher cannot accept responsibility for
errors or exclusions or for the outcome of the material presented herein. There is no expressed or implied warranty of this book or
information imparted by it. Care has been taken to ensure that drug selection and dosages are in accordance with currently accepted/
recommended practice. Due to continuing research, changes in government policy and regulations, and various effects of drug reac-
tions and interactions, it is recommended that the reader carefully review all materials and literature provided for each drug, especially
those that are new or not frequently used. Any review or mention of specific companies or products is not intended as an endorsement
by the author or publisher.

SLACK Incorporated uses a review process to evaluate submitted material. Prior to publication, educators or clinicians provide impor-
tant feedback on the content that we publish. We welcome feedback on this work.

Published by: SLACK Incorporated

6900 Grove Road
Thorofare, NJ 08086 USA
Telephone: 856-848-1000
Fax: 856-848-6091
www.slackbooks.com

Contact SLACK Incorporated for more information about other books in this field or about the availability of our books from distribu-
tors outside the United States.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Bottomley, Jennifer M.
Geriatric rehabilitation : a textbook for the physical therapist assistant / Jennifer Bottomley.
p. ; cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-1-55642-816-6 (alk. paper)
1. Physical therapy for older people. 2. Older people--Rehabilitation. I. Title.
[DNLM: 1. Physical Therapy Modalities. 2. Aged. 3. Aging--physiology. 4. Allied Health Personnel. 5. Geriatric Assessment--methods.
6. Rehabilitation--methods. WB 460 B751g 2010]
RC953.8.P58B68 2010
615.8’20846--dc22
2010005295

For permission to reprint material in another publication, contact SLACK Incorporated. Authorization to photocopy items for internal,
personal, or academic use is granted by SLACK Incorporated provided that the appropriate fee is paid directly to Copyright Clearance
Center. Prior to photocopying items, please contact the Copyright Clearance Center at 222 Rosewood Drive, Danvers, MA 01923 USA;
phone: 978-750-8400; web site: www.copyright.com; email: [email protected]
 DEDICATION
To Senator Ted Kennedy (1932–2009), whose inspiring life and service in the US Senate has made the path
for aging Americans so much easier. What happens to the people you touch and never really know? Thanks
to your work, Senator Kennedy, you’ve touched and inspired many lives. If there are only 5 people for each
of us to meet in heaven, I will hope that one of them will be you.

z 1965: supported the creation of Medicare and Medicaid, programs he fought to strengthen and expand
for decades
z 1966: expanding the Economic Opportunity Act of 1964 to create a national health centered system
z 1972: Women, Infants and Children program, providing nutrition assistance to low-income mothers and
their children
z 1975: Education for All Handicapped Children Act, guaranteeing free and equal public education for
disabled children
z 1977: offered his first National Healthcare Plan, meant to cover all Americans
z 1985: Consolidated Omnibus Budget Reconciliation Act (COBRA), the Kennedy-sponsored law that
allows workers to get stop-gap health insurance while between jobs
z 1992: Mammography Quality Standards Act, improving the safety and accuracy of mammograms
z 1994: Family and Medical Leave Act, guaranteeing employees unpaid time off for illness and to care for
a family member
z 1996: Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act, installing privacy standards for health infor-
mation and protecting workers from losing their health insurance when they change or lose their jobs
z 1997: State Children’s Health Insurance Program, helping states provide health coverage to low-income
uninsured children
z 2000: Minority Health and Health Disparities Research and Education Act, increasing research and data
collection on minority health
z 2006: Family Opportunity Act, expanding Medicaid to include funds to children with special needs
z 2010: Health care reform passed the House and Senate in March

Note: This only includes the bills Senator Kennedy inspired and help to write in the area of health. Of the
more than 2,500 bills written in his 46-year career in the US Senate, these highlights do not touch foreign
affairs, civil rights, or education, to name a few. These highlights are only some of the measures Senator
Kennedy sponsored, cosponsored, or negotiated in the area of health.
 CONTENTS
Dedication . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . v
Acknowledgments . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ix
About the Author . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xi
About the PT & PTA Advisors. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .xiii
About the Cover . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv
Preface . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvii

SECTION I FUNDAMENTAL CONCEPTS IN GERIATRIC REHABILITATION . . . . . . 1

Chapter 1 Introduction to Geriatric Rehabilitation: Principles of Practice . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3
Chapter 2 Theories of Aging . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29
Chapter 3 Age-Related Changes in Anatomy, Physiology, and Function . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43
Chapter 4 Common Pathological Conditions in the Elderly:
Impact on Function and Treatment Approaches . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 65
Chapter 5 Psychosocial Theories and Considerations of Aging . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 95
Appendix . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 109
Chapter 6 Nutritional Considerations With Aging . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 119
Appendix . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 147

SECTION II CARE OF THE GERIATRIC PATIENT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 149

Chapter 7 Drugs and Function in the Elderly . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151
Chapter 8 Settings of Care in Geriatrics:
The Role of the Physical Therapist Assistant . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 233
Chapter 9 Treatment Rationale and Design in Geriatrics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 243
Chapter 10 Interventions and Treatment in the Elderly . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 267

SECTION III SPECIAL CONSIDERATIONS IN GERIATRIC REHABILITATION

THERAPIES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 303
Chapter 11 Communication, Education, and Learning . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 305
 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
From conception to completion of Geriatric Rehabilitation: A Textbook for the Physical Therapist Assistant
it has been a long, long journey. The path toward completion has been easy at times, and at others, many
obstacles were encountered. Through it all, Carrie Kotlar, John Bond, and Brien Cummings have helped to
keep the flame burning and the path well lit. I thank each of them for their patience, perseverance, and guid-
ance, as well as encouragement along the way.
My work has been made enjoyable and educational by the dependable and able assistance of my col-
leagues, Stacy Potvin, PTA, Peggy DeCelle, Newman PT, MHR, and Karen Ryan, PTA, who have reviewed
and edited every chapter, often more than once, and have provided the “Pearls” for each chapter, which I
know each reader will appreciate. They have provided the tender loving care in the provision of top-quality
information, and each chapter has been fostered and enhanced by their many contributions.
Though way too many to name, I also thank my interprofessional family and faculty colleagues, especially
those from the Massachusetts Institute of Health Care Professionals, Brigham & Women’s Hospital, and Beth
Israel Hospital, who have read and improved many of the following chapters with their clinical and profes-
sional expertise and skill. You each know who you are, and I thank you for your creative and scholarly input
and suggestions along the way.
On a personal note, I thank my life partner (in the state of Massachusetts, my wife), Jennifer M. Buchwald,
for her neverending love, energy, and inspiration. Without her patience and gentle pushing, you would not
be holding this textbook in your hands. I thank “the other Jennifer” for sharing and enriching my life so
completely.

My Gratitude to All,
Jennifer M. Bottomley
 ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jennifer M. Bottomley, PT, MS, PhD2, has a bachelor’s degree in
Physical Therapy from the University of Wisconsin–Madison and an
advanced master’s degree in Physical Therapy from the MGH Institute
of Health Professionals in Boston, MA. She also has a combined
intercollegiate doctoral degree in Gerontology (University of
Massachusetts) and Health Science and Service Administration (Union
Institute), as well as a second doctoral degree in Health Service
Administration, Legislation, and Policy Management with a specialty in
Gerontology (Union Institute).
Dr. Bottomley has been clinically practicing since 1974 in acute
care, home care, outpatient clinics, nursing homes and long-term care
facilities. Currently, she serves as an academic and clinical educator in
Geriatric Physical Therapy internationally and throughout the United
States in numerous university programs. In addition to teaching, Dr.
Bottomley is a rehabilitation consultant for Amedisys Home Health and Hospice, Inc. She practices clinically
in the Boston area in homeless shelters and has orchestrated free screening and intervention projects for the
homeless elderly of Massachusetts, obtaining federal grants to provide free screening and care for low-income
elders in 14 central Massachusetts cities and towns.
Dr. Bottomley has served on advisory boards for the Office of the Surgeon General and the Office of
Women’s Health for the Department of Health and Human Services, and was appointed to a White House
Interdisciplinary Medicare Reform Advisory Panel for rehabilitation in home care and long-term care settings.
She continues to serve in that capacity.
Dr. Bottomley is a nationally renowned speaker, author, and educator. She has contributed chapters to
many texts, published numerous articles and co-authored a geriatric text, now in its 3rd edition, with Carole
B. Lewis entitled Geriatric Rehabilitation: A Clinical Approach published in 2008. She has also edited the Quick
Reference Dictionary for Physical Therapy, now in its 2nd edition, published by SLACK Incorporated in 2004.
In 2006, MGH Institute of Health Professions recognized Dr. Bottomley with the 2nd annual Most
Distinguished Alumni Award. The Massachusetts chapter of the APTA also awarded her the Mary MacDonald
Distinguished Service Award in 2008.
 ABOUT THE PT & PTA ADVISORS
Peggy DeCelle, Newman PT, MHR has practiced as a physical therapist for 27 years in a variety of settings
including acute care, outpatient orthopedics, institutional long-term care, and home health. Additionally, she
has managed allied health professionals in all of these settings. Currently, she continues to work with patients
in an outpatient setting, 2 afternoons per week.
Ms. Newman served as PTA Program Director at the Oklahoma City Community College from 1995-2006.
She also served as Academic Coordinator of Clinical Education (ACCE) at the University of Oklahoma
from 1988-1993. After leaving OCCC, she practiced clinically for a year, in a variety of settings, and
returned to the University of Oklahoma’s Department of Rehabilitation Sciences in 2007. She is currently
serving as the Director of Clinical Education, in addition to Director of the Faculty Continuing Education
Program and Assistant Professor.
Ms. Newman has served the OPTA in many roles including Chapter President and Chief Delegate, and she
currently serves as Chief Delegate and Membership Committee Co-Chair. She was appointed to the Oversight
Panel for the Analysis of Practice for the PT and PTA licensure examination by the Federation of State Boards
of Physical Therapy from 2005-2007.
She has presented locally and nationally on topics including “Vision 2020,” “Using Support Personnel
Effectively,” “The Guide to PT Practice: An Introduction,” “Let’s Talk Ethics,” and “Ethical and Legal Challenges
for Therapists in Today’s Health Care Environment.” She presented “Enhancing the Therapist: Therapist
Assistant Partnership” at the APTA Annual Conference in Boston in 2010.
Ms. Newman is the co-author of The PTA Handbook: Keys to Success in School and Career for the Physical
Therapist Assistant, published by SLACK in 2005. She recently authored the chapter “Standards of Practice” in
the Study Guide for the Physical Therapist Assistant’s Examination.

Karen Ryan, PTA has been an educator, author and physical therapist assistant clinician for over 20 years.
She received her associate in applied science degree as a PTA from St. Catherine’s College in Minneapolis, MN
and is currently completing her bachelor’s degree in Health Administration and Public Education at Metro
State College in Denver, CO. As a clinician, Ms. Ryan has worked in a multitude of practice settings and is
currently the administrator for a private physical therapy clinic, Back to Motion Physical Therapy, in Denver,
where she continues to keep her hand in direct client care every week. Ms. Ryan is also the editor and
contributing author for a national PTA licensure review and study guide, and teaches courses for PTA
graduates preparing for their licensure examination. In her spare time she takes full advantage of living in
Colorado, snowshoeing and hiking as often as possible.

Stacy Potvin, PTA, BA, BS received a bachelor of arts degree in English from Niagara University in 1986,
and a bachelor of science degree in Physical Education in 1990 from Canisius College. She worked as a physical
education teacher and athletic director before beginning her career as a physical therapist assistant.
She received an associate of science degree in Physical Therapy from Bay State College in 1996 and has
been working as a physical therapist assistant in the outpatient rehabilitation department at Beth Israel
Deaconess Medical Center since graduating. She is a PTA III, the senior PTA on staff, and treats patients with
a wide range of musculoskeletal problems, with a special interest in aquatic therapy, geriatrics, and sports
medicine. Ms. Potvin has been very involved in clinical education for physical therapist assistants, and is an
APTA credentialed clinical instructor who supervises students from Bay State College, North Shore College,
and Hesser College. She has also served on the advisory board for the clinical education program at Bay State
College.
 ABOUT THE COVER
The cover portrait, “Newton,” by artist Deborah L. Bottomley, is of the author’s and artist’s grandfather.
Ms. Bottomley has captured the essence of Grandpa Newton in this beautifully detailed drawing, one in a
series of drawings of elders’ faces, reflecting life’s many challenges and joys in lines that go from the face
right to the heart.

Artist Info: Deborah L. Bottomley

www.dlbottomley.com

Copyright © 2010 DL Bottomley. All rights reserved

 PREFACE
Geriatric Rehabilitation: A Textbook for the Physical Therapist Assistant is a comprehensive guide for the
physical therapist assistant (PTA) student or clinician who has an interest in or is currently working in geri-
atric-based settings. Assessing and treating the medically complex older patient presents a unique challenge
and opportunity for the PTA to expand his or her knowledge base and stretch his or her clinical skills to
the maximum. Older patients present a complicated clinical puzzle: they are referred to the PTA with many
diagnoses and are therefore medically complex; they are often taking multiple medications; and they likely
have nutritional problems and socioeconomic issues that will broaden and test the skills of any clinician.
Clinical expertise will be rapidly honed when the PTA is working in geriatric care settings. It is hoped that
this text will guide and facilitate success in this endeavor.
Geriatric Rehabilitation is a comprehensive look at the practical and clinically applicable components
needed in the special care of the elderly across the spectrum of care for the PTA. The book’s focus is the
clinically relevant assessment, treatment, and management of the geriatric population and it spotlights
attention on primary, secondary, and tertiary prevention and a return to maximal level of functional capa-
bilities. Pathological manifestations commonly seen in the elderly patient are addressed from a systems
perspective and attention is paid to what is seen clinically and how it affects function. Each pathological
area is inclusive of screening/assessment/evaluation, treatment prescription, goal setting, modification of
treatment, and anticipated outcomes. Important psychosocial, pharmacological, and nutritional elements
are also addressed to enhance the PTA’s knowledge of factors that affect an older person throughout the
course of intervention.
Geriatric Rehabilitation puts an emphasis on how the PTA should use a balance of theory, clinical appli-
cation of knowledge, and clinical skills in assessing and treating the geriatric patient. The unifying element
of the book is the special needs of the elderly in all health care settings. The conceptual framework for the
organization and presentation of the material focuses on practical, hands-on components of intervention,
assessment and decision-making skills needed for comprehensive geriatric care at each point along the
continuum of care. This book addresses and incorporates aspects of prevention, fitness, and wellness in
addition to the rehabilitative model of care for elders with pathological conditions resulting in functional
losses.
This text provides many resources and tools for the assessment and treatment of geriatric patients and
encourages PTAs to extend their knowledge, make informed choices about intervention and progression of
therapy, and facilitate the success of physical therapy in obtaining an older person’s own goals, his or her
maximal functional abilities, and improving his or her quality of life.
I welcome your feedback and ideas on how this journey into geriatrics can be more successful and more
fulfilling. The future of geriatric physical therapy is in the hands of those students, new graduates, and
practicing PTAs who choose to practice geriatric rehabilitation in our current and ever-changing health
care environment. I wish you all the best and hope that in some small way this book will make your journey
more rewarding.
 Section I

Fundamental Concepts in
Geriatric Rehabilitation
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
 CHAPTER III

Come Care and Pleasure, Hope and Pain

And bring the fated Fairy Prince.
—Tennyson.

And in the narrow bed built within the wall in the tiny room, wherein
a tallow candle placed on a central table threw only very feeble rays,
the girl Rose Marie lay dreaming.
She—Rose Marie—the daughter of Papa Legros—as he was
uniformly called in the neighbourhood—she was now a great lady, by
the will of God and the decree of the Holy Father himself. She would
have a glass coach like the ladies whom she had so often seen
driving about in Versailles, and sit in it, dressed in the latest fashion
and holding a fan in her hand, which would be encased in a lace
mitten.
At this point in her dreams Rose Marie sat up in bed, very straight
and dignified, with her little hands folded over the cotton coverlet,
and she bent her young head to right and to left, like one saluting a
number of passers-by. A nod accompanied by an encouraging smile
indicated the greeting to a supposed friend, whilst a condescending
nod and a haughty stare suggested the presence of an acquaintance
of somewhat low degree.
Thus Rose Marie had seen the ladies behave in their coaches in
Versailles. She had seen Maria Mancini bow serenely to her admirers,
and the Queen Mother bestow the stony stare on her detractors. She
had watched, wondered and admired, but never had she tried to
imitate until now—now that her smile would be appreciated by
many, her frown be of consequence to others.
Up to now it had not mattered. Though her father was reputed to be
wealthy, he was only a tailor, who had to bow and scrape and wallow
before the great gentlemen of the Court. Aye! and had more than
once been soundly thrashed because of the misfit of a pair of Court
breeches.
And Rose Marie had oft sighed for greatness, for the gilded coach
and a seat at the opera, for silken dresses, flowers, patches and
rouge. She was only a child with an acutely developed sense of
sympathy for everything that was dainty and refined, everything that
smelt sweetly and was soft and tender to the touch.
Thus she went on dreaming her dream in content, never doubting
for a moment that happiness lay closely linked with this sudden
accession to grandeur. The fact that her lawful lord and husband had
shown a desire to break his marriage vows, and to take unto himself
some other wife more equal to him in rank and breeding than the
humble tailor's daughter, troubled Rose Marie not at all. With
sublime faith in the workings of Providence, she put her husband's
reluctance to acknowledge her down to his ignorance of herself.
He had never seen her since the day of the ceremony, eighteen
years ago. She was a baby in arms then, whilst now—
Rose Marie drew in her breath and listened. Maman was evidently
not yet coming up. All was still on this upper floor of the house. Rose
Marie put her feet to the ground and rose from her bed. She picked
up the candle from the table and tripped across the room to where—
on the whitewashed wall opposite—there hung a small gilt-framed
mirror.
Into this she peeped, holding the candle well above her head. Her
face wore neither the look of vanity, nor even that of satisfaction:
rather was it a look of the closest possible scrutiny. Rose Marie
turned her head to right and left again, but not—this time—in order
to enact a private comedy, but in order to convince herself in her
own mind that her cheeks had indeed that peach-like bloom, which
her overfond father had so oft proclaimed, and that her hair was
sufficiently brilliant in colour to be called golden, and yet not too
vivid to be called "roux."
We may take it that this scrutiny, which lasted nearly twenty
minutes, was of a satisfactory character, for presently, with a happy
little sigh, and heaving breast, Rose Marie tripped lightly back to her
narrow bed in the wall, and squeezed herself well within the further
dark angle, to which the flickering light of the tallow candle had no
access.
This she did because she had heard maman's step on the stairs, and
because her own cheeks now were of a flaming red.
 PART II

CHAPTER IV

For what is wedlock forced but a hell.

—1 Henry VI. V. 5.

"My Lord is sad."

"Oh!—"
"My Lord is weary!"
"!!—"
A pause. Mistress Julia Peyton, you understand, was waxing
impatient. Can you wonder? She was not accustomed to moodiness
on the part of her courtiers; to a certain becoming diffidence
mayhap, to tongue-tiedness—if we may be allowed so to call it—on
the part of her young adorers fresh from their country homes,
fledglings scarce free from the gentle trammels of their mother's
apron strings, to humility in the presence of so much beauty, grace
and wit as she was wont to display when taken with the desire to
please, to all that yes, yes and a thousand times yes, the adorable
Julia was fully accustomed. But to silence on the part of the wittiest
gentleman about town, to moodiness akin to ill-humour on the part
of the most gallant young rake this side of Westminster—no! no! and
a thousand times no! Mistress Julia would have none of it.
Her daintily-shod foot beat a quick measure against the carpets, her
fingers delicately tipped with rouge played a devil's tattoo on the
polished top of the tiny marqueterie table beside her, and her small
teeth, white and even as those of a kitten, tore impatiently at her
under lip.
Still Lord Stowmaries paid no heed to these obvious signs of a
coming storm. He lolled in an armchair opposite the imperious
beauty, his chin was resting in his hand, his brow was puckered, and
oh! most portentous outward indication of troubles within! his cravat
looked soiled and crumpled, as if an angry hand had fidgeted its
immaculate whiteness away.
At last Mistress Julia found herself quite unable to control her
annoyance any longer. Granted that Lord Stowmaries was the
richest, most promising "parti" that had ever come her way; that he
was young, good-looking, owned half the county of Hertford, and
one of the oldest names in England, and that, moreover, he was of
sufficiently amiable disposition to be fashioned into a model husband
by and by! granted all that, say I! Had not all these advantages, I
pray you to admit, caused the fair Julia to hide her ill-humour for
close on half an hour, whilst the young man frowned and sighed,
gave curt answers to her most charming sallies, and had failed to
notice that a filmy handkerchief, lace-edged and delicately perfumed,
had been dropped on that veriest exact spot of the carpet which was
most conveniently situated for sinking on one knee within a few
inches of the most adorable foot in London?
But now the irascible beauty was at the end of her tether. She rose—
wrathfully kicking aside that same handkerchief which her surly
visitor had failed to notice—and took three quick steps in the
direction of the bell-pull.
"And now, my lord," she said, "I pray you to excuse me."
And she stretched out her hand in a gesture intended to express the
full measure of her wrath.
Lord Stowmaries roused himself from his unpleasant torpor.
"To excuse you, fair one?" he murmured in the tone of a man who
has just wakened from slumber, and is still unaware of what has
been going on around him whilst he slept.
"Ay, my good lord," she replied with a shrill note of sarcasm very
apparent in the voice which so many men had compared to that of a
nightingale. "I fain must tear myself away from the delights of your
delectable company—though I confess 'twere passing easy to find
more entertaining talk than yours has been this last half-hour."
"Would you be cruel to me now, Mistress?" he said with a deep and
mournful sigh, "now, when—"
"Now, when what?" she retorted still pettishly, though a little
mollified by his obvious distress.
She turned back towards him, and presently placed a hand on his
shoulder.
"My lord," she said resolutely, "either you tell me now and at once
what ails you this afternoon, or I pray you leave me, for in your
present mood, by my faith, your room were more enjoyable than
your company."
He took that pretty hand which still lingered on his shoulder, and
pressing it for a few lingering seconds between both his, he finally
conveyed its perfumed whiteness to his lips.
"Don't send me away," he pleaded pathetically; "I am the most
miserable of mortals, and if you closed your doors against me now,
you would be sending your most faithful adorer straight to
perdition."
"Tut, man!" she rejoined impatiently, "you talk like a gaby. In the
name of Heaven, tell me what ails you, or I vow you'll send me into
my grave with choler."
"I have been trying to tell you, Mistress, this past half-hour."
"Well?"
"But Lud help me, I cannot."
"Then it's about a woman," she concluded with firm decision.
He gave no reply. The conclusion was obvious.
The fair Julia frowned. This was threatening to become serious. It
was no mere question of moodiness then, of ill-humour anon to be
forgiven and dissipated with a smile.
There was a woman at the bottom of my lord Stowmaries' ill-
humour. A woman who had the power to obtrude her personality
between his mental vision and the daintiest apparition that had ever
turned a man's brain dizzy with delight. A woman in fact who might
prove to be an obstacle to the realisation of Mistress Julia Peyton's
most cherished dreams.
All thoughts of anger, of petulance, of bell-pulls and peremptory
congés fled from the beauty's mind. She sat down again opposite
the young man; she rested her elbows on her knees, her chin in her
hands; she looked serious, sympathetic, interested, anything you
like. A sufficiency of moisture rose to her eyes to render them soft
and lustrous, appealing and irresistible. Her lips parted and quivered
just sufficiently to express deep emotion held courageously in check,
whilst from beneath the little lace cap one or two rebellious curls
free from powder, golden in colour, and silky in texture, were
unaccountably allowed to escape.
Thus equipped for the coming struggle, she repeated her question,
not peremptorily this time, but gently and in a voice that trembled
slightly with the intensity of sympathy.
"What ails my lord?"
"Nothing short of despair," he replied, whilst his eyes rested with a
kind of mournful abnegation on the enchanting picture so
tantalisingly near to him.
"Is it quite hopeless, then?" she asked.
"Quite."
"An entanglement?"
"No. A marriage."
Outwardly she made no sign. Mistress Julia was not one of those
simpering women who faint, or scream, or gasp at moments of
mental or moral crises. I will grant you that the colour left her cheek,
and that her fingers for one brief instant were tightly clutched—no
longer gracefully interlaced—under her chin. But this was in order to
suppress emotion, not to make a show of it.
There was only a very momentary pause, the while she now, with
deliberate carelessness, brushed a rebellious curl back into its place.
"A marriage, my good lord," she said lightly; "nay! you must be
jesting—or else mayhap I have misunderstood.—A marriage to
render you moody?—Whose marriage could that be?—"
"Mine, Mistress—my marriage," exclaimed Lord Stowmaries, now in
tones of truly tragical despair; "curse the fate that brought it about,
the parents who willed it, the necessity which forced them to it, and
which hath wrecked my life."
Mistress Julia now made no further attempt to hide her fears.
Obviously the young man was not jesting. The tone of true misery in
his voice was quite unmistakable. It was the suddenness of the blow
which hurt her so. This fall from the pinnacle of her golden dreams.
For weeks and months now she had never thought of herself in the
future as other than the Countess of Stowmaries, chatelaine of
Maries Castle, the leader of society both in London and in
Newmarket, by virtue of her husband's wealth and position, of her
own beauty, tact and grace.
She had even with meticulous care so reorganised her mind and
memory, that she could now eliminate from them all recollections of
the more humble past—the home at Norwich, the yeoman father,
kindly but absorbed in the daily struggle for existence, the busy,
somewhat vulgar mother, the sordid existence peculiar to
impoverished smaller gentry; then the early marriage with Squire
Peyton. It had seemed brilliant then, for the Squire, though past his
youth, had a fine house, and quite a few serving men—but no
position—he never came to London and Mistress Julia's knowledge
of Court and society was akin to that which children possess of
fairies or of sprites.
But Squire Peyton it appears had more money than he had owned to
in his lifetime. He had been something of a miser apparently, for
even his young widow was surprised when at his death—which
occurred if you remember some twenty-four months ago—she found
herself possessed of quite a pleasing fortune.
This was the beginning of Mistress Julia's golden dreams, of her
longings towards a more brilliant future, which a lucky second
marriage could easily now secure for her. The thousand pounds a
year which she possessed enabled her to take a small house in
Holborn Row, and to lay herself out to cut a passable figure in
London society. Not among the Court set, of course, but there were
all the young idlers about town, glad enough to be presented to a
young and attractive widow, endowed with some wealth of her own,
and an inordinate desire to please.
The first few idlers soon attracted others, and gradually the pretty
widow's circle of acquaintances widened. If that circle was chiefly
composed of men, who shall blame the pretty widow?
It was a husband she wanted, and not female companionship. Lord
Swannes, if you remember, paid her his court, also Sir Jeremiah
Harfleet, and it was well known that my lord of Craye—like the true
poet that he was—was consumed with love of her. But as soon as
Mistress Julia realised that richly-feathered birds were only too
willing to fly into her snares, she aimed for higher game. A golden
eagle was what she wanted to bring down.
And was not the young Earl of Stowmaries the veritable prince of
golden eagles?
He came and saw and she conquered in a trice. Her beauty, which
was unquestionable, and an inexhaustible fund of verve and high-
spirited chatter which easily passed for wit were attractive to most
men, and Lord Stowmaries, somewhat blasé already by the more
simpering advances of the Court damsels, found a certain freshness
in this young widow who had not yet shaken off the breezy vulgarity
of her East Anglian home, and whose artless conversation, wholly
innocent of elegance, was more amusing than the stilted "Ohs!" and
"Luds!" of the high-born ladies of his own rank.
The golden eagle seemed overwilling to allow the matrimonial snare
set by the fair Julia to close in around him: she was already over-
sure of him, and though she did not frequent the assemblies and
salons where congregated his lordship's many friends, she was fully
aware that her name was being constantly coupled with that of the
Earl of Stowmaries.
But now she saw that she had missed her aim, that the glorious bird
no longer flew within her reach, but was a prisoner in some one
else's cage, fettered beyond her powers of liberation.
But still Mistress Julia with persistence worthy a better cause refused
to give up all hope.
"Tell me all about it, my lord," she said as quietly as she could. "It
had been better had you spoken before."
"I have been a fool, Mistress," he replied dully, "yet more sinned
against than sinning."
"You'll not tell me that you are actually married?" she insisted.
"Alas!"
"And did not tell me so," she retorted hotly, "but came here, courting
me, speaking of love to me—of marriage—God help you! when the
very word was a sacrilege since you were not free—Oh! the perfidy
of it all!—and you speak of being more sinned against than sinning.
'Tis the pillory you deserve, my lord, for thus shaming a woman first
and then breaking her heart."
She was quite sincere in her vehemence, for self-control had now
quite deserted her, and the wrong and humiliation which she had
been made to endure, rose up before her like cruel monsters that
mocked and jeered at her annihilated hopes and her vanished
dreams. Her voice rose in a crescendo of shrill tones, only to sink
again under the strength of choking sobs. Despair, shame and bitter
reproach rang through every word which she uttered.
"As you rightly say, Mistress," murmured the young man, "God help
me!"
"But the details, man—the details—" she rejoined impatiently;
"cannot you see that I am consumed with anxiety—the woman?—
who is she?—"
"Her name is Rose Marie," he replied in the same dull, even tones,
like a schoolboy reciting a lesson which he hath learned, but does
not understand; "she is the daughter of a certain M. Legros, who is
tailor to His Majesty the King of France."
"A tailor!" she gasped, incredulous now, hopeful once more that the
young man was mayhap suffering from megrims and had seen
unpleasant visions, which had no life or reality in them.
"A tailor's daughter?" she repeated. "Impossible!"
"Only too true," he rejoined. "I had no choice in the matter."
"Who had?"
"My parents."
"Tush!" she retorted scornfully, "and you a man!"
"Nay! I was not a man then."
"Evidently."
"I was in my seventh year!" he exclaimed pathetically.
There was a slight pause, during which the swiftly-risen hope a few
moments ago once more died away. Then she said drily:
"And she?—this—this Rose or Mary—daughter of a tailor—how old
was she when you married her?"
"In her second year, I think," he replied meekly. "I just remember
quite vaguely that after the ceremony she was carried screaming
and kicking out of the church. That was the last I saw of my wife
from that day to this—"
"Bah!"
"My great-uncle, the late Lord Stowmaries, shipped my father,
mother and myself off to Virginia soon after that. My father had
been something of a wastrel all his life and a thorn in the flesh of
the old miser. The second time that he was locked up in a debtor's
prison, Lord Stowmaries paid up for him on the condition that he
went off to Virginia at once with my mother and myself, and never
showed his face in England again."
"Hm! I remember hearing something of this when you, my lord,
came into your title. But these—these—tailor people—who were
they?"
"Madame Legros was a distant connection of my mother's who, I
suppose, married the tailor for the same reason that I—an
unfortunate lad without a will of my own—was made to marry the
tailor's daughter."
"She is rich—of course?"
"Legros, the tailor, owns millions, I believe, and Rose Marie is his
only child. It was the first time that my poor father, Captain Kestyon,
found himself actually in prison and unable to pay his debts. The
Earl of Stowmaries—a wicked old miser, if ever there was one—
refused to come to his rescue. My mother was practically penniless
then; she had no one to whom she could turn for succour except the
cousin over in Paris, who had always been kind to her, who was
passing rich, burning with social ambition, and glad enough to have
the high-born English lady beneath her bourgeois roof."
"And that same burning social ambition caused the worthy tailor to
consent to a marriage between his baby daughter and the scion of
one of the grandest families in England," commented Mistress Julia
calmly. "It were all so simple—if only you had had the manhood to
tell me all this ere now."
"I thought that miserable marriage forever forgotten."
"Pshaw!" she retorted, "was it likely?"
"I had heard nothing of the Legros for many years," he said
dejectedly. "My father had died out in the Colony: my mother and I
continued to live there on a meagre pittance which that miserly old
reprobate—my great-uncle—grudgingly bestowed upon us. This was
scarce sufficient for our wants, let alone for enabling us to save
enough money to pay our passage home. At first my mother was in
the habit of asking for and obtaining help from the Legros!—you
understand? she never would have consented to the connection,"
added the young man with naïve cynicism, "had she not intended to
derive profit therefrom, so whenever an English or a French ship
touched the coast my poor mother would contrive to send a pathetic
letter to be delivered in Paris, at the house of the king's tailor. But
after a while answers to these missives became more and more rare,
soon they ceased altogether, and it is now eight years since the last
remittance came—"
"The worthy tailor and his wife were getting tired of the aristocratic
connection," commented Mistress Julia drily; "no doubt they too had
intended to derive profit therefrom and none came."
"Was I not right, Mistress, in thinking that ill-considered marriage
forgotten?" quoth Lord Stowmaries with more vehemence than he
had displayed in the actual recital of the sordid tale; "was I not
justified in thinking that the Legros had by now bitterly regretted the
union of their only child to the penniless son of a spendthrift father?
Tell me," he reiterated hotly, "was I not justified?—I thought that
they had forgotten—that they had regretted—that Rose Marie had
found a husband more fitted to her lowly station and to her
upbringing—and that her parents would only be too glad to think
that I too had forgotten—or that I was dead."
There was a slight pause. Mistress Julia's white brow was puckered
into a deep frown of thought.
"Well, my lord," she said at last, "ye've told me the past—and
though the history be not pretty, it is past and done with, and I take
it that your concern now is rather with the present."
"Alas!"
"Nay! sigh me not such doleful sighs, man!" she exclaimed with
angry impatience, "but in the name of all the saints get on with your
tale. What has happened? The Legros have found out that little
Rupert Kestyon hath now become Earl of Stowmaries and one of the
richest peers in the kingdom—that's it—is it not?"
"Briefly, that is it, Mistress. They demand that their daughter be
instated in her position and the full dignities and rights to which her
marriage entitle her."
"Failing which?" she asked curtly.
"Oh! scandal! disgrace! they will apply to the Holy Father—the
orders would then come direct from Rome—I could not disobey
under pain of excommunication—"
"Such tyranny!"
"The Kestyons have been Catholics for five hundred years," said the
young man simply, whilst a touch of dignity—the first since he began
to relate his miserable tale—now crept into his attitude. "We do not
call the dictates of the Holy Father in question, nor do we name
them tyranny. They are irrevocable in matters such as these—"
"Surely—a sum of money—" she hazarded.
"The Legros have more of that commodity than I have. But it is not
a question of money. Believe me, fair Mistress," he said in tones
which once more revealed the sorrow of his heart, "I have thought
on the matter in all its bearings—I have even broached the subject
to the Duke of York," he added after an imperceptible moment of
hesitation.
"Ah? and what said His Highness?" asked Mistress Julia with that
quick inward catching of her breath which the mentioning of exalted
personages was ever wont to call forth in her.
"Oh! His Highness only spoke of the sanctity of the marriage tie—"
"'Twas not likely he would talk otherwise. 'Tis said that his bigotry
grows daily upon him—and that he only awaits a favourable moment
to embrace openly the Catholic Faith—"
"His Majesty was of the same opinion, too."
"Ah? You spoke to His Majesty?"
"Was it not my duty?"
"Mayhap—mayhap—and what did His Majesty say?"
"Oh! he was pleased to take the matter more lightly—but then there
is the Queen Mother—and—"
"Who else? I pray you, who else?" said Mistress Julia now with
renewed acerbity. "His Majesty, His Royal Highness, the Queen—half
London, to boot—to know of my discomfiture and shame—"
Her voice again broke in a sob, she buried her face in her hands,
and tears which mayhap had more affinity to anger than to sorrow
escaped freely from between her fingers. In a moment the young
man was at her feet. Gone was his apathy, his sullenness now. He
was on one knee and his two arms encircled the quivering shoulders
of the fair, enraged one.
"Mistress, Mistress," he entreated, whilst his eager lips sought the
close proximity of her shell-like ear; "Julia, my beloved, in the name
of the Holy Virgin, I pray you dry your tears. You break my heart,
fair one. You—O God!" he added vehemently, "am I not the most
miserable of men? What sin have I committed that such a wretched
fate should overwhelm me? I love you and I have made you cry—"
"Nay, my lord," whispered Julia through her tears, "an you loved me
—"
She paused with well-calculated artfulness, whilst he murmured with
pathetic and tender reproach:
"An I loved you! Is not my heart bound to your dainty feet? my soul
fettered by the glance of your eyes? Do you think, Mistress, that I
can ever bear to contemplate the future now, when for days, nay!
weeks and months, ever since I first beheld your exquisite
loveliness, I have ever pictured myself only as your slave, ever
thought of you only as my wife? That old castle over in
Hertfordshire, once so inimical to me, I have learnt to love it of late
because I thought you would be its mistress; I treasured every tree
because your eyes would behold their beauty; I guarded with
jealous care every footpath in the park because I hoped that some
day soon your fairy feet would wander there."
Mistress Julia seemed inclined to weep yet more copiously. No doubt
the ardently-whispered words of my lord Stowmaries caused her to
realise more vividly all that she had hoped for, all that was lost to
her now.
Oh! was it not maddening? Had ever woman been called upon to
endure quite so bitter a disappointment?
"It's the shame of it all, my lord," she said brokenly, "and—" she
whispered with tenderness, "I too had thought of a future beside a
man whom I had learned to—to love. I suffer as you do, my lord—
and—besides that, the awful shame. Your favours to me, my lord,
have caused much bitter gall in the hearts of the envious—my
humiliation will enable them to exult—to jeer at my discomfiture—to
throw scandalous aspersions at my conduct—I shall of a truth be
disgraced, sneered at—ruined—"
"Let any one dare—" muttered the young man fiercely.
"Nay! how will you stop them? 'Tis the women who will dare the
most. Oh! if you loved me, my lord, as you say you do, if your
protestations are not mere empty words, you would not allow this
unmerited disgrace to fall upon me thus."
Who shall say what tortuous thoughts rose in Mistress Peyton's mind
at this moment? Is there aught in the world quite so cruel as a
woman baffled? Think on it, how she had been fooled. The very
intensity of the young man's passion, which had been revealed to
her in its fulness now that he knew that an insuperable barrier stood
between him and the fulfilment of his desires, showed her but too
plainly how near she had been to her goal.
At times—ere this—she had dreaded and doubted. The brilliancy of
his position, his wealth and high dignity had caused her sometimes a
pang of fear lest he did not think her sufficiently his equal to raise
her to his own high rank. At such moments she had redoubled her
efforts, had schemed and had striven, despite the fact that her
efforts in that direction had—as she well knew—not escaped the
prying eyes of the malevolent. What cared she then for their sneers
so long as she succeeded?
And now with success fully in sight, she had failed—hopelessly,
ridiculously—ignominiously failed.
Oh! how she hated that unknown woman, that low-born bourgeoise,
who had robbed her of her prize! She hated the woman, she hated
the family, the Parisian tailor and his scheming wife. God help her,
she even hated the unfortunate young deceiver who was clinging
passionately to her knees.
She pushed him roughly aside, springing to her feet, unable to sit
still, and began pacing up and down the small room, the tiny dainty
cage wherein she had hoped to complete the work of ensnaring the
golden bird.
"Julia!"
He too jumped to his feet. Once more he tried to embrace the
quivering shoulders, to imprison the nervous, restless fingers, to
capture the trembling lips. But she would no longer yield. Of what
use were yielding now?
"Nay! nay! I pray you, leave me," she said petulantly. "Of what
purpose are your protestations, my lord—they are but a further
outrage. Indeed, I pray you, go."
Once more she turned to the bell-pull, and took the heavy silken
cord in her hand, the outward sign of his dismissal. Some chivalrous
instinct in him made him loth to force his company on her any
longer. But his glowering eyes, fierce and sullen, sought to read her
face.
"When may I come back?" he asked.
"Never," she replied.
But we may be allowed to suppose that something in her accent, in
her attitude of hesitancy, gave the lie to the cruel word, for he
rejoined immediately:
"To-morrow?"
"Never," she repeated.
"To-morrow?" he insisted.
"What were the use?"
"I vow," he said with grim earnestness, "that if you dismiss me now,
without the hope of seeing you again, I'll straight to the river, and
seek oblivion in death."
"'Twere the act of a coward!" she retorted.
"Mayhap. But Fate has dealt overharshly with me. I cannot face life
if you turn in bitterness from me. Heaven only knows how I can face
it at all without you—but your forgiveness may help me to live; it
would keep me back from the lasting disgrace of a suicide's grave,
from eternal damnation. Will you let me come to-morrow? Will you
give me your forgiveness then?"
He tried to draw near her again, but she put out her hand and drew
resolutely back.
"Mayhap—mayhap," she said hurriedly. "I know not—but not now,
my lord—I entreat you to go."
She rang the bell quickly, as if half afraid of herself, lest she might
yield, after all. Mistress Julia knew but little of love—perhaps until
this moment she had never realised that she cared for this young
man, quite apart from the position and wealth which he would be
able to give her. But now, somehow, she felt intensely sorry for him,
and there was quite a small measure of unselfishness in her grief at
this irrevocable turn of events. The glance which she finally turned
upon him softened the cruelty of his dismissal.
"Come and say good-bye to-morrow," she murmured. Then she
raised a finger to her lips. "Sh!—sh!—sh!" she whispered scarce
above her breath; "say nothing more now—I could not bear it. But
come and say good-bye to-morrow."
The serving man's steps were heard the other side of the door. He
was coming in answer to the bell.
Lord Stowmaries dropped on one knee. He contrived to capture a
feebly-resisting little hand and to impress a kiss upon the rouge-
tipped fingers.
Then after a final low bow, he turned and walked out of the room.
 CHAPTER V

There is nothing but roguery to be found in villainous man.

—I Henry IV. II. 4.

Mistress Julia Peyton waited for a few moments until the opening
and shutting of the outer door proclaimed the fact that young Lord
Stowmaries had really and definitely gone.
Then she went to the little secrétaire which stood in an angle of the
room, drew forth a sheet of paper, took a heavy quill pen in her
hand, and feverishly—though very laboriously—began to write.
It was a difficult task which the fair lady had set herself to do, for
neither writing nor spelling were among her accomplishments, being
deemed unnecessary and not pertaining to the arts of pleasing. But
still she worked away, with hand cramped round the rebellious quill,
dainty fingers stained with the evil-smelling black liquid, and her
brow puckered with the intensity of mental effort, until she had
succeeded in putting on paper just what she wished to say:

"To siR john Ayloff at His resedence in lincoln's inn Filds.

"Honord Sir cosin: This to Tell yo That i wish to speke with
yo This da and At ons opon a Matter of life and Deth.
"yr obedt Servt
"Julia Peyton."
A goodly number of blots appeared upon this missive as well as
upon Mistress Julia's brocaded kirtle, before she had finished. But
once the letter duly signed, she folded and sealed it, then once more
rang the bell.
"Take this to the house of Sir John Ayloffe at once," she said
peremptorily to her serving man who appeared at the door, "and if
he be within bring him hither without delay. If he be from home,
seek him at the Coffee Tavern in Holborn Bars, or at the sign of the
Three Bears in the Strand. But do not come back until you've found
Sir John."
She gave the letter to the man, and, as the latter with a brief word
indicative of obedience and understanding prepared to go, she
added curtly:
"And if you do not find Sir John and bring him hither within half an
hour, you may leave my service without notice or character, but with
twenty blows of the stick across your back. You understand? Now
you may go."
Then—as the man finally retired—Mistress Julia was left alone to
face the problem as to how best she could curb her impatience until
the arrival of Sir John.
Her threat would lend wings to her messenger's feet, for her service
was reckoned a good one, owing to the many lavish gifts and
unconsidered trifles which fell from the liberal hands of Mistress
Julia's courtiers, whilst her old henchman—a burly East Anglian relict
of former days in Norfolk—loved to wield a heavy stick over the
backs of his younger subordinates.
If Sir John Ayloffe was at home, he could be here in ten minutes; if
he had gone to the Coffee Tavern in Holborn Bars, then in twenty;
but if the messenger had to push on as far as the Strand, then the
full half-hour must elapse ere the arrival of Sir John.
And if he came, what should she say to him? Of all her many
adorers, Sir John was the only one who had never spoken of
matrimony. A distant connection of the late Squire Peyton's, he it
was who had launched the young widow on her social career in
London and thus enabled her to enter on her great matrimonial
venture.
Sir John Ayloffe, who in his early youth had been vastly busy in
dissipating the fortune left to him by a thrifty father, was chiefly
occupied now that he had reached middle age in finding the means
to live with outward decency, if not always with strict honesty.
Among these means gambling and betting were of course in the
forefront. These vices were not only avowable, they were thought
gentlemanly and altogether elegant.
But how to gamble and bet without cheating is a difficult problem
which Sir John Ayloffe never really succeeded in solving. So far
chance had favoured him. His various little transactions at the hazard
tables or betting rings had gone off with a certain amount of luck
and not too much publicity.
He had managed to keep up his membership at Culpeper's and other
fashionable clubs, and had not up to the present been threatened
with expulsion from Newmarket. He was still a welcome guest at the
Coffee Taverns where the young bloods congregated, and at the
Three Bears in the Strand, the resort of the most fashionable young
rakes of the day.
But one or two dark, ugly-looking clouds began to hover on his
financial horizon, and there was a time—some eighteen months ago
—when Sir John Ayloffe had serious thoughts of a long voyage
abroad for the benefit of his health.
This was just before he received the intimation that his cousin—old
Squire Peyton—had left a young and pretty widow, who was burning
with the desire not to allow her many charms to be buried in oblivion
in a tumble-down Norfolk manor.
Although Mistress Julia Peyton knew little if anything of spelling and
other book lore, her knowledge of human—or rather masculine—
nature was vast and accurate. After half an hour's conversation with
her newly-found kinsman, she had gauged the use which she could
make of him and of his impecuniousness to a nicety.
He was over-ready, on the other hand, to respond to her wishes.
The bargain was quickly struck, with cards on the table, and the
calling of a spade by its own proper appellation.
Mistress Julia Peyton was calculated to do credit to any London
kinsman who chose to introduce his most aristocratic friends into her
house. And remember, Sir John Ayloffe had plenty of these, and was
to receive a goodly sum from the young widow for every such
introduction. Such matters were not difficult to arrange at a time
when money was scarce and love of display great. The fair Julia lost
nothing by the business. Her house, thanks to Sir John, was well
frequented by the pleasure-loving set of London.
Then there loomed ahead the final and great project: the marriage
of Mistress Julia! and herein Sir John's cooperation was indeed to be
well paid. From one thousand pounds, up to five, was to be his
guerdon, according as his fair kinswoman's second husband was a
wealthy baronet, a newly-created peer, or the bearer of one of those
ancient names and high dignities or titles which gave him entrées at
Court, privileges of every sort and kind, which his wife would
naturally share with him.
When the brigantine Speedwell went down off the Spanish coast
with all on board, the late Earl of Stowmaries lost at one fell swoop
his only son and heir, and the latter's three young boys, who were all
on a pleasure cruise on the ill-fated vessel. The old man did not
survive the terrible shock of that appalling catastrophe. He died
within six months of the memorable tragedy, and Rupert Kestyon—
the son of the impecunious spendthrift who was lying forgotten in a
far-off grave in a distant colony—became Earl of Stowmaries, one of
the wealthiest peers in England.
In a moment he became the most noted young buck of the Court of
the Restoration, the cynosure of every feminine eye. He was young,
well looking, and his romantic upbringing in the far-off colony
founded by his co-religionists, made him a vastly interesting
personality.
Mistress Julia, as soon as she heard his name, his prestige, and his
history, began to dream of him—and of herself as Countess of
Stowmaries. Once more Cousin John was appealed to.
"Six thousand pounds for you, Cousin, the day on which I become
Countess of Stowmaries."
Only the introduction was needed. Mistress Julia, past-mistress by
now in the art of pleasing, would undertake to do the rest.
Young Lord Stowmaries was a member of Culpeper's. Sir John
Ayloffe contrived to attract his attention, and one day to bring him to
the house of the fascinating widow.
Sir John had done his work. So had the beautiful Julia. It was
Chance who had played an uneven game, wherein the two
gamblers, handicapped by their ignorance of past events, had lost
the winning hand.
And it was because she felt that Cousin John had almost as much at
stake in the game as she had, that Mistress Julia Peyton sent for her
partner, when Chance dealt what seemed a mortal blow to her
dearest hope and scheme.
 CHAPTER VI

'Tis dangerous when the baser nature comes

Between the pass and fell incenséd points of mighty opposites.
—Hamlet V. 2.

Less than twenty minutes after the despatch of her missive—twenty

minutes which seemed to Julia more like twenty cycles of
immeasurable time—Sir John Ayloffe was announced.
He entered very composedly. Having been formally announced by
the servant, he waited with easy patience that the man should close
the doors and leave him alone with his fair cousin.
He scarcely touched her fingers with his lips and she said quickly:
"'Twas kind to come at once. You were at home?"
"Waiting for this summons," he replied.
"Then you knew?" she asked.
"Since last evening!" he said simply.
He was of a tall, somewhat fleshy build, the face—good-looking
enough—rendered heavy by many dissipations and nights of vigil
and pleasure. His eyes were very prominent, surrounded by thick
lids, furtive and quick in expression like those of a fox on the alert.
The heavy features—nose, chin and lips—were, so 'twas said, an
inheritance from a Jewish ancestress, the daughter of a rich
Levantine merchant, brought into England by one of the Ayloffes
who graced this country in the days of Richard III.
It was the money of this same ancestress which had enriched the
impoverished family, and had at the same time sown the seeds of
that love of luxury and display which had ruined the present bearer
of the ancient name. From that same Oriental ancestress Sir John
Ayloffe had no doubt inherited his cleverness at striking a bargain as
well as his taste for showy apparel. He was always dressed in the
latest fashion, and had already adopted the new modes lately
imported from France, the long vest tied in with a gaily coloured
sash, the shorter surcoat with its rows of gilded buttons, and oh!
wonder of wonders, the huge French periwig, with its many curls
which none knew better than did Sir John how to toss and to wallow
when he bowed.
His fat fingers were covered with rings, and the buckles on his shoes
glittered with shiny stones.
Julia, quivering with eagerness and excitement which she took no
pains to conceal, now dragged Sir John down to a settee beside her.
"You knew that my lord of Stowmaries was a married man, and that
I have been fooled beyond the powers of belief!" she ejaculated,
whilst her angry eyes searched his furtive ones, in a vain endeavour
to read his thoughts.
"I heard my lord's miserable story from his own lips last night,"
reiterated Sir John.
"Ah! He told it then over the supper table, between two bumpers of
wine, to a set of boon companions as drunken, as dissolute as
himself? Man! man! why don't you speak?" she cried almost
hysterically, for she had suffered a great deal to-day, her nerves
were overwrought and threatening to give way in the face of this
new and horrible vision conjured up by her own excited imagination.
"Why don't you describe the whole scene to me—the laughter which
the tale evoked, the sneers directed against the unfortunate woman
who has been so hideously fooled?"
Ayloffe listened to the tirade with the patience of a man who has
had many dealings with the gentle if somewhat highly-strung sex.
He patted her twitching fingers with his own soft, pulpy palm, and
waited until her paroxysm of weeping had calmed down, then he
said quietly:
"Nay, dear coz, the scene as it occurred round the most exclusive
table at the Three Bears, in no way bears resemblance to the
horrible picture which your fevered fancy has conjured up. My lord of
Stowmaries told his pitiable tale in the midst of awed and
sympathetic silence, broken only by brief exclamations of friendship
and pity."
"And my name was not mentioned?" she asked, mollified but still
incredulous.
"Not save in the deepest respect," he replied, whilst a line of
sarcasm quickly repressed rose to his fleshy lips. "How could you
suppose the reverse?"
"Ah, well, mayhap, since women were not present. But they will hear
of it, too, to-day or to-morrow. The story is bound to leak out. My
lord of Stowmaries' attentions to me were known all over the town—
and to-day or to-morrow people will talk, will laugh and jeer. Oh! I
cannot bear it," she added with renewed vehemence; "I cannot—I
cannot—I verily believe 'twill drive me mad."
She rose and resumed her agitated walk up and down the small
room, her clenched fists beating one against the other, her trembling
lips murmuring with irritating persistency.
"I cannot bear it—I cannot bear it. The ridicule—the ridicule will kill
me—"
Suddenly she paused in her restlessness, stood in front of Sir John
and let her tear-dimmed eyes rest on his thick-set face.
"Cousin," she said deliberately, "you must find a way out of this
impasse."
"You must find a way out of it," she reiterated firmly.
He shrugged his shoulders, and said drily:
"Fair Mistress, you may as well ask me to reconcile the Pope of
Rome and all the hierarchy of the Catholic Church to the idea of
flouting the sacrament of marriage, by declaring that its bonds are
no longer indissoluble. The past few centuries have taught us that in
Rome they are none too ready to do that."
"I was not thinking of such vast schemes," said Julia in tones as dry
as his had been. "I was not thinking either of corrupting the Roman
Church, or of persuading one of her adherents to rebel against her.
My lord of Stowmaries has already explained to me," she continued
with bitter sarcasm, "that against the Pope's decision there would be
no appeal—he himself would not wish to appeal against it. His love
for me is apparently not so boundless as I had fondly imagined, its
limits meseems are traced in Rome. He has given me to understand
that his wife's people—those—those tailors of Paris—actually hold a
promise from the Pope that a command will be issued ordering that
their daughter be installed and acknowledged as Countess of
Stowmaries and that without any undue delay. Failing which,
excommunication for my lord, scandal, disgrace. Bah! I know not!—
these Romanists are servile under such tyranny—and we know that
not only the Duke of York, but the king himself is at one with the
Catholics just now. No—no—no—that sort of thing is not to be
thought on, Cousin, but there are other ways—"
Her eyes, restless, searching, half-fearful, tried to fix the glance of
his own. But his shifted uneasily, now responding to her questioning
look, anon trying to avoid it, as if dreading to comprehend.
"Other ways, other ways!" he muttered; "of a truth there are many
such—but none of which you, fair Cousin, would care to take the
risk."