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Updated: June 26, 2025
"Yes, yes," she gasped, "I came for something to speak to pray you ! Sister Clorinda, have patience with me till my courage comes again!" and she clutched her robe. Something which came nigh to being a shudder passed through Mistress Clorinda's frame; but it was gone in a second, and she touched Anne though not ungently with her foot, withdrawing her robe.
In secrecy she even busied herself with keeping things in better order than Rebecca, Mistress Clorinda's woman, had ever had time to do before. She also contrived to get into her own hands some duties that were Rebecca's own. She could mend lace cleverly and arrange riband-knots with taste, and even change the fashion of a gown.
Already he had incurred Clorinda's serious displeasure; it had required a vast amount of eloquence to reconcile matters after his indiscretion with the strange young woman at old Mother Hopkin's, besides, his flirtations with Victoria were a constant bone of contention between them.
The truth was Sally had not observed the gown, but its bright crimson had struck Clorinda's fancy, and being tempted to stare at it enviously herself, she concluded the girl must be doing the same thing. "Jis' obsarve what Miss Clorindy tells yer," remarked Dolf, "and yer'll be on the road ter 'provement; Sally, yer couldn't hab a more reficient guide."
Mellen was about to order them away from that part of the house the veriest trifle irritated him now when Clorinda's next words made him pause. "I wish he'd hev it dug up by the roots," she said; "I do 'lieve dat ar tree is haunted." "Haunted!" screamed Dolf, who possessed a large share of the superstition of his race. "Now what does yer mean, Miss Clorindy?"
He had succeeded in accomplishing what no sable gallant had ever done before; he had softened Clorinda's obdurate heart, and made her think it possible that at some future time she might be persuaded to place her fair self, and what she prized more, her money, in Dolf's keeping.
"I've got my child," said Phronsie, putting up a sleepy hand to pat Clorinda's head, but it fell to her side, while her yellow hair slipped closer over her flushed cheek. She tried to say, "Clorinda, we've got home, and my foots are tired," swayed, held her child tighter to her bosom, and over she went in a heap, fast asleep before her head touched the soft grass.
The student is not to be envied who can read without emotion the enthusiastic description of the Crusader's first sight of Jerusalem, the touching pathos of Clorinda's death, and the sublime account of the ruins of Carthage. It would indeed refresh many a mind, surfeited by the vast mass of our modern literature, to go back to the green pastures and still waters of this grand old poem.
Still no signs of it was discovered, but he did find traces of footsteps in the grass, which proved the truth of Clorinda's suspicions. "It's over, at all events," said Elsie, as she met Elizabeth on the stairs. "Over!" repeated the half-distracted woman, desperately; "who can tell how or when it may come up again?"
But 'twas the women who said these things; the men swore that no man could tire of or desert such spirit and beauty, and that if Sir John Oxon stayed away 'twas because he had been commanded to do so, it never having been Mistress Clorinda's intention to do more than play with him awhile, she having been witty against him always for a fop, and meaning herself to accept no man as a husband who could not give her both rank and wealth.
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