y Lord Dunstanwolde himself, who
had not writ from England for some time, and in the midst of his
epistle, which treated with a lettered man's thoughtful interest of the
news of both town and country, of Court and State, playhouse and club,
there was reference to Gloucestershire and Mistress Clorinda of
Wildairs Hall.

"In one of our past talks, Gerald," he wrote, "you said you thought
often of the changes time might work in such a creature. You are given
to speculative thought and spoke of the wrong the past had done her,
and of your wonder if the strength of her character and the clearness
of her mind might not reveal to her what the untoward circumstances of
her life had hidden, and also lead her to make changes none had
believed possible. Your fancies were bolder than mine. You are a
stronger man than I, Gerald, though a so much younger one; you have a
greater spirit and a far greater brain, and your reason led you to see
possibilities I could not picture. In truth, in those days I regarded
the young lady with some fear and distaste, being myself sober and
elderly. But 'tis you who were right. The change in her is indeed a
wondrous one, but that I most marvel at is that I mark in her a
curious gentleness, which grows. She hath taken under protection her
sister Mistress Anne, a humble creature whose existence none have
seemed previously aware of. The poor gentlewoman is timid and uncomely,
but Mistress Clorinda shows an affection for her she hath shown to none
other. But yesterday she said to me a novel thing in speaking of
her--and her deep eyes, which can flash forth such lightnings, were
soft as if dew were hid in them--'Why was all given to me,' saith she,
'and naught to her? Since Nature was not fair, then let me try to be
so. She is good, she is innocent, she is helpless. I would learn of
her. Innocence one cannot learn, and helpless I shall never be, yet
would I learn of her.' She hath a great, strange spirit, Gerald, and
strange fearlessness of thought. What other woman dare arraign Nature's
self, and command mankind to retrieve her cruelties?"

Having finished his reading, my lord Duke turned to his window and
looked out upon the night, which was lit to silver by the moon, which
flooded the broad square before him and the park beyond it till 'twas
lost in the darkness of the trees.

"No other woman--none," he said--and such a tumult shook his soul that
of a sudden he stretched forth his arms unknowing of