somewhat anxious thoughts. "Why was it," he pondered, "that women who
had not the happy fortune of his mother seemed at so cruel a
disadvantage--that men who were big and handsome having won them, grew
tired of them and cast them aside, with no care for their loneliness
and pain? Why had God so made them that they seemed as helpless as poor
driven sheep? 'Twas not fair it should be so--he could not feel it
honest, though he was beset by grave fears at his own contumacy since
he had been taught that God ordained all things. Had he ordained this,
that men should be tyrants, and base, and cruel, and that women should
be feeble victims who had but the power to moan and die and be
forgotten? There was my Lord Peterborough, who had fought against
Algerine pirates, and at nineteen crowned his young brow with glory in
action at Tripoli. To the boyish mind he was a figure so brilliant and
gallant and to be adored that it seemed impossible to allow that his
shining could be tarnished by a fault, yet 'twas but a year after his
marriage with the fair daughter of Fraser of Mearns that he had wearied
of his love and gaily sailed for the Algerine coast again. Whether the
young Countess had bewailed her lot or not, Roxholm had not chanced to
hear, but having had for husband a young gentleman so dazzling and full
of fascination, how could she have found herself deserted and feel no
heartache and shed no tears? My lord could sail away and fight
corsairs, but her poor ladyship must remain behind and do battle only
with her heart, gaining no laurels thereby.

The sentiment of the times was not one which rated women high or was
fraught with consideration for female weakness. Charles Stuart taught
men how women should be regarded, and the beauties of his Court had
aided him in such manner as deepened the impression he had produced. A
beauty had her few years of triumph in which she was pursued, intrigued
with, worshipped, flattered, had madrigals sung in her honour; those