on her table she would rate me bitterly--and she can be bitter when she
will."

She bent and placed it within the shadow of the valance again, and as she
felt it touch the hard oak of the polished floor her bosom rose with a
soft sigh.

"It is an unseemly thing to do," she said; "'tis as though one were
uncivil; but I dare not--I dare not do otherwise."

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. Mistress
Clorinda was a matchless horsewoman, and a marvel of loveliness and
spirit she looked when she rode, sitting upon a horse such as no other
woman dared to mount--always an animal of the greatest beauty, but of so
dangerous a spirit that her riding-whip was loaded like a man's.

This time it was not she; and when Mistress Anne beheld the young
gentleman who had drawn rein in the court she started backward and put
her hand to her heart, the blood mantling her pale cheek again in a
flood. But having started back, the next instant she started forward to
gaze again, all her timid soul in her eyes.

"'Tis he!" she panted; "'tis he himself! He hath come in hope to speak
with my sister, and she is abroad. Poor gentleman, he hath come in such
high spirit, and must ride back heavy of heart. How comely, and how
finely clad he is!"