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Updated: July 19, 2025
She would have turned to leave the apartment, being much overcome by the incident, but just as she would have done so she heard the sound of horses' feet through the window by which she must pass, and looked out to see if it was Clorinda who was returning from her ride.
"Lady-chair," said Polly, the worry dropping out of her eyes at the fun of carrying Phronsie in. But Phronsie was beyond the charms of "lady-chair" or "pick-a-back," her yellow head bobbing so dismally when they lifted her up, that Jasper at last picked her up in his arms, and marched off with her. "You bring the doll, Polly." So Polly ran along by his side with Clorinda dangling by one arm.
Polly had run up for her hat, and to get her little purse, for she just remembered that her green silk for the violet stems was nearly out, and Phronsie had said good-bye and gone back to the house on happy feet, to tell Clorinda and watch at the window till Polly should come again.
"He will not be," said Anne "he will not." "He cannot," Clorinda answered "he shall not! 'Twould not be human." She drew a long breath and was calm again. "Did it reach your ears," she said, reclasping a band of jewels on her arm, "that John Oxon had been offered a place in a foreign Court, and that 'twas said he would soon leave England?"
This pretty fancy work was carried on in the front basement or housekeeper's room, while a bustle of preparation gave promise of great things from the kitchen. Clorinda, the moving spirit of all this commotion, rushed from basement to kitchen, and then to pantry and store-room, in a state of exhilaration that set fresh currents of air in circulation wherever she went.
"Yes," was Osmonde's answer "yes, love, as if at God, who has smiled at herself faithful, tender woman heart!" The hand which he held in his clasp clung closer. The other crept to his shoulder and lay there tremblingly. "How faithful and how tender, my Gerald," Clorinda said, "I only know. She is my saint sweet Anne, whom I dared treat so lightly in my poor wayward days.
She was thinking of Clorinda, and wondering sadly that she was of so high a pride that she could bear herself as though there were no human weakness in her breast, not even the womanly weakness of a heart. How could it be possible that she could treat with disdain this gallant gentleman, if he loved her, as he surely must?
"No," said Clorinda, mysteriously; "it's one ob dem tings as is best not talked 'bout. I don't run and tell all I sees and hears." "Jis' confide in my buzzom," said Dolf, tenderly. "Men is so duberous, 'specially dem as brags 'bout der mean white blood, which comes out coppery any how," said Clorinda. "Yer knows I'se de most faithful and constance ob my sect," cried Dolf.
When Sir John Oxon paid his visit to Sir Jeoffry the days of Mistress Margery were filled with carking care. The night before he arrived, Mistress Clorinda called her to her closet and laid upon her her commands in her own high way.
Her big black eyes were flames, her head was thrown up and back, her cheeks were blood scarlet, and her great crop of crow- black hair stood out about her beauteous, wicked little virago face, as if it might change into Medusa's snakes. "Damn thee!" she shrieked at him again. "I'll kill thee, devil!" Sir Jeoffry broke into his big laugh afresh. "Clorinda do they call thee, wench?" he said.
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