Scarce a day passed in
which her husband did not mark some evidence of this--hear some word
spoken, see some deed done, almost, it seemed, as if in atonement for
imagined faults hid in her heart. He did not remark this because he was
unused to womanly mercifulness; his own mother's life had been full of
gentle kindness to all about her, of acts of charity and goodness, but
in the good deeds of this woman, whom he so loved, he observed an
eagerness which was almost a passion. She had changed no whit in the
brilliance of her spirit; in the world she reigned a queen as she had
ever done; wheresoever she moved, life and gayety seemed to follow,
whether it was at the Court, in the town, or the country; but in both
town and country he found she did strange charities, and seemed to
search for creatures she might aid in such places as other women had
not courage to dive into.
This he discovered through encountering her one day as she re-entered
Osmonde House, returning from some such errand, clad in dark, plain
garments, her black hood drawn over her face, being thereby so
disguised that but for her height and bearing he should not have
recognised her--indeed, he thought, she had not seen and would have
passed him in silence.
He put forth his hand and stayed her, smiling.
"Your Grace!" he said, "or some vision!"
She threw the black hood back and her fair face and large black eyes
shone out from beneath its shadows.
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