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Updated: May 5, 2025
But a merry laugh, the silvery thread in which was certainly Florimel's, reached his ears, and brought him to himself. I will not trouble my reader with the thoughts that kept rising, flickering, and fading, one after another, for two or three dismal hours, as he lay with eyes closed but sleepless. At length he opened them wide, and looked out into the room.
Florimel was yet but half dressed, when the door of her room opened suddenly, and Lady Clementina darted in the lovely chaos of her night not more than half as far reduced to order as that of Florimel's. Her moonlight hair, nearly as long as that of the fabled Godiva, was flung wildly about her in heavy masses. Her eyes were wild also; she looked like a holy Maenad.
But he took care not to increase Florimel's alarm. By this time Malcolm knew the whole of the accessible inside of the roof well better far than any one else about the house. From one part to another, over the whole of it, he now led Lady Florimel.
"There's nobody here," answered the voice. "I'm in my own bedroom at home, where your dog killed mine." It was the voice of Mrs Catanach, but both words and tone were almost English. Anger, and the sense of a human presence, although an evil one, restored Lady Florimel's speech. "How dare you talk such nonsense?" she said. "Don't anger me again," returned the voice. "I tell you the truth.
I suppose she's paid for it," said Florimel, whose innocence must surely have been supplemented by some stupidity, born of her flippancy. "Do be quiet, Florimel," said Clementina. "You don't know what you are talking about." Her face was in a glow, and one glance at it set Florimel's in a flame. She rose without a word, but with a look of mingled confusion and offence, and walked away.
"How long have you been in the rock there?" "No ae meenute, my lord. I flang aff my butes to rin efter a freen', an' that's hoo ye didna hear me come up. I'm gaein' efter them noo, to gang hame i' them. Guid nicht, my lord. Guid nicht, my leddy." He turned and pursued his way; but Florimel's face, glimmering through the night, went with him as he ran.
We broke up, they back to Walthamstow, and only my wife and I and Sir W. Pen to the King's playhouse, and there saw "The Mayden Queene," which, though I have often seen, yet pleases me infinitely, it being impossible, I think, ever to have the Queen's part, which is very good and passionate, and Florimel's part, which is the most comicall that ever was made for woman, ever done better than they two are by young Marshall and Nelly.
But now for all the coolness of her upper crust, Lady Florimel's heart glowed not indeed with the power of the shining truth Malcolm had uttered, but with the light of gladness in the possession of such a strong, devoted, disinterested squire. "I wish you to understand," she said at length, "that I am not at present mistress of this house, although it belongs to me.
We broke up, they back to Walthamstow, and only my wife and I and Sir W. Pen to the King's playhouse, and there saw "The Mayden Queene," which, though I have often seen, yet pleases me infinitely, it being impossible, I think, ever to have the Queen's part, which is very good and passionate, and Florimel's part, which is the most comicall that ever was made for woman, ever done better than they two are by young Marshall and Nelly.
The remark being a general one, Malcolm cannot be much blamed if he stood with one foot lifted to hear Florimel's reply. "If it 's an ill baked one, papa," she returned, "I think it would be better to cut as small a piece of it as will serve for immediate use." Malcolm was delighted with her answer, never thinking whether it came from her head or her heart, for the two were at one in himself.
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