her wild thoughts would go so far that she would dream--reddening at her
own boldness--of a child who might be born to them, a lordly infant son
and heir, whose eyes might be blue and winning, and his hair in great
fair locks, and whom she might nurse and tend and be a slave to--and
love--and love--and love, and who might end by knowing she was his tender
servant, always to be counted on, and might look at her with that wooing,
laughing glance, and even love her too.

The night Clorinda laid her commands upon Mistress Wimpole concerning the
coming of Sir John Oxon, that matron, after receiving them, hurried to
her other charges, flurried and full of talk, and poured forth her wonder
and admiration at length.

"She is a wondrous lady!" she said--"she is indeed! It is not alone her
beauty, but her spirit and her wit. Mark you how she sees all things and
lets none pass, and can lay a plan as prudent as any lady old enough to
be twice her mother. She knows all the ways of the world of fashion, and
will guard herself against gossip in such a way that none can gainsay her
high virtue. Her spirit is too great to allow that she may even _seem_
to be as the town ladies. She will not have it! Sir John will not find
his court easy to pay. She will not allow that he shall be able to say
to any one that he has seen her alone a moment. Thus, she says, he
cannot boast. If all ladies were as wise and cunning, there would be no
tales to tell." She talked long and garrulously, and set forth to them
how Mistress Clorinda had looked straight at her with her black eyes,
until she had almost shaken as she sat, because it seemed as though she
dared her to disobey her will; and how she had sat with her hair trailing
upon the floor over the chair's back, and at first it had seemed that she
was flushed with anger, but next as if she had smiled.