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Updated: June 26, 2025
For what else could she hope from this splendid creature, who, while of her own flesh and blood, had never seemed to regard her as being more than a poor superfluous underling? But strangely enough, there was no anger in Clorinda's eyes; she but laughed, as though what she had seen had made her merry. "You here, Anne," she said, "and looking with light-mindedness after gallant gentlemen!
In John Oxon's blue eyes there had been a set fierce look, and in Clorinda's a blaze which had been like a declaration of war; and these same looks she had seen since that day, again and again. Gradually it had become her sister's habit to take Anne with her into the world as she had not done before her widowhood, and Anne knew whence this custom came.
In the basement story of Piney Cove, the absence of Mrs. Mellen was a continued source of curiosity. But for once, that part of the household had little but conjecture to go upon; so after a time, curiosity died out and the selfish element rose uppermost, especially with the mulatto, Dolf, who had not yet found out the sum total of Clorinda's fortune. The night after Mrs.
A stone might have sympathised with her maidenly distress, but that wicked Victoria burst into absolute shrieks of laughter. "Oh, oh, oh! yer ole fool!" she cried, between her shouts of merriment. "Yer too ole for new fashions telled yer so!" Clorinda's outraged modesty was forgotten in the fury which Victoria's lack of sympathy caused. "Jis let me git up!" cried she.
When her lover came back with his arms full of long-necked bottles, Clorinda's happiness was supreme, and directly after there was a rush of feet and abrupt silence with the two fiddlers. The company had gone in to supper. After the rush and bustle had subsided a little, Dolf placed himself at the head of the table, with a corkscrew in one hand and a bottle in the other.
Two or three wagons sat down their sable loads, and directly the sounds of a brace of fiddles rang though the basement story, and the laundry floor vibrated to the elastic tread of dancers, whose natural love of music gave grace and spirit to every movement. The two fiddles poured out triumphant strains of music, and in every particular Clorinda's ball was a success.
She will take her way, and God grant she mayn't be too like her father and follow his." It was true that she had no resemblance to her plain sisters, and bore no likeness to them in character. The two elder children, Anne and Barbara, were too meek-spirited to be troublesome; but during Clorinda's infancy Mistress Margery Wimpole watched her rapid growth with fear and qualms.
Rhodes was so busy with the delicacies Clorinda's skillful hands had prepared, and so full of himself, that he was in a perfect glow of content. The lights danced before Elizabeth's eyes, every morsel she ate was swallowed with a pang, the wine was like a bitter drug on her lips, yet there she sat in patient endurance.
Clorinda's broad flat vibrated with its wearer's impatience, and Victoria was stamping down the grass, and menacing the old man with her fist during the whole of his slow performance. "Now," she said, "now." "Wal, the long and the short of it is, they're all a coming, especially from Squir Rhodes.
Mistress Clorinda's fortunes the gentry of the neighbourhood discussed with growing interest and curiosity. What was like to become of her great gifts and powers in the end, if she could never show them to the great world, and have the chance to carry her splendid wares to the fashionable market where there were men of quality and wealth who would be like to bid for them.
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