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Frances Hodgson Burnett. His Grace of Osmonde
His Grace of Osmonde
Table of Contents
ILLUSTRATIONS
HIS GRACE OF OSMONDE
CHAPTER I ToC
The Fifth Day of April, 1676
CHAPTER II ToC
"He is the King"
CHAPTER III ToC
Sir Jeoffry Wildairs
CHAPTER IV ToC
"God Have Mercy on its Evil Fortunes"
CHAPTER V ToC
My Lord Marquess Plunges into the Thames
CHAPTER VI ToC
"No; She has not yet Come to Court"
CHAPTER VII ToC
"'Tis Clo Wildairs, Man—All the County Knows the Vixen."
CHAPTER VIII ToC
In which my Lady Betty Tantillion writes of a Scandal
CHAPTER IX ToC
Sir John Oxon Lays a Wager at Cribb's Coffee House
CHAPTER X ToC
My Lord Marquess rides to Camylott
CHAPTER XI ToC
"It Might Have Been—It Might Have Been!"
CHAPTER XII ToC
In Which is Sold a Portrait
CHAPTER XIII ToC
"Your—Grace!"
CHAPTER XIV ToC
"For all her youth—there is no other woman like her"
CHAPTER XV ToC
"And 'twas the town rake and beauty—Sir John Oxon"
CHAPTER XVI ToC
A Rumour
CHAPTER XVII ToC
As Hugh de Mertoun Rode
CHAPTER XVIII ToC
A Night in which my Lord Duke Did Not Sleep
CHAPTER XIX ToC
"Then you might have been one of those——"
CHAPTER XX ToC
At Camylott
CHAPTER XXI ToC
Upon the Moor
CHAPTER XXII ToC
My Lady Dunstanwolde is Widowed
CHAPTER XXIII ToC
Her Ladyship Returns to Town
CHAPTER XXIV ToC
Sir John Oxon Returns Also
CHAPTER XXV ToC
To-morrow
CHAPTER XXVI ToC
A Dead Rose
CHAPTER XXVII ToC
"'Twas the night thou hidst the package in the wall"
CHAPTER XXVIII ToC
Sir John Rides out of Town
CHAPTER XXIX ToC
At the Cow at Wichben
CHAPTER XXX ToC
On Tyburn Hill
CHAPTER XXXI ToC
Their Graces Keep their Wedding Day at Camylott
CHAPTER XXXII ToC
In the Turret Chamber—and in Camylott Wood
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Frances Hodgson Burnett
Being the Portions of That Nobleman's Life Omitted in the Relation of His Lady's Story Presented to the World of Fashion under the Title of A Lady of Quality
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The boy climbed upon her knee and sat there, leaning against her as he loved to do. His eyes rested on the far edge of the farthest purple moor, behind which the sun seemed to be slipping away into some other world he knew not of. The little clouds floating in the high blue sky were rosy where they were not golden; a flock of rooks was flying slowly homeward over the tree-tops, cawing lazily as they came. A great and beautiful stillness seemed to rest on all the earth, and his little mind was full of strange ponderings, leading him through labyrinths of dreams he would remember and comprehend the deep meaning of only when he was a man. Somehow all his thoughts were trooping round about a rich and brilliant figure which was a sort of image standing to him for the personality of his Most Sacred Majesty King Charles the Second—the King who was not quite a King, though all England looked to him, and he could lead it to good or evil.
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