She stood by his side
and not before him, and her smiles and wit were bestowed upon him as
generously as to others. If she had once been a vixen, she was surely so
no longer, for he never heard a sharp or harsh word pass her lips, though
it is true her manner was always somewhat imperial, and her lacqueys and
waiting women stood in greatest awe of her. There was that in her
presence and in her eye before which all commoner or weaker creatures
quailed. The men of the world who flocked to pay their court to her, and
the popinjays who followed them, all knew this look, and a tone in her
rich voice which could cut like a knife when she chose that it should do
so. But to my Lord of Dunstanwolde she was all that a worshipped lady
could be.

"Your ladyship has made of me a happier man than I ever dared to dream of
being, even when I was but thirty," he would say to her, with reverent
devotion. "I know not what I have done to deserve this late summer which
hath been given me."

"When I consented to be your wife," she answered once, "I swore to myself
that I would make one for you;" and she crossed the hearth to where he
sat--she was attired in all her splendour for a Court ball, and starred
with jewels--bent over his chair and placed a kiss upon his grizzled
hair.

Upon the night before her wedding with him, her sister, Mistress Anne,
had stolen to her chamber at a late hour. When she had knocked upon the
door, and had been commanded to enter, she had come in, and closing the
door behind her, had stood leaning against it, looking before her, with
her eyes wide with agitation and her poor face almost grey.

All the tapers for which places could be found had been gathered
together, and the room was a blaze of light. In the midst of it, before
her mirror, Clorinda stood attired in her bridal splendour of white satin
and flowing rich lace, a diamond crescent on her head, sparks of light
flaming from every point of her raiment. When she caught sight of Anne's
reflection in the glass before her, she turned and stood staring at her
in wonder.

"What--nay, what is this?" she cried. "What do you come for? On my
soul, you come for something--or you have gone mad."

Anne started forward, trembling, her hands clasped upon her breast, and
fell at her feet with sobs.

"Yes, yes," she gasped, "I came--for something--to speak--to pray you--!
Sister--Clorinda, have patience with me--till my courage comes again!"
and she clutc