My face is my fortune!" 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.

She was under her woman's hands, and while her great mantle of black hair fell over the back of her chair and lay on the floor, her tirewoman passing the brush over it, lock by lock, she was at her greatest beauty.

Either she had been angered or pleased, for her cheek wore a bloom even deeper and richer than usual, and there was a spark like a diamond under the fringe of her lashes.
At her first timorous glance at her, Mistress Margery thought she must have been angered, the spark so burned in her eyes, and so evident was the light but quick heave of her bosom; but the next moment it seemed as if she must be in a pleasant humour, for a little smile deepened the dimples in the corner of her bowed, full lips.

But quickly she looked up and resumed her stately air.
"This gentleman who comes to visit to-morrow," she said, "Sir John Oxon--do you know aught of him ?" "But little, Madame," Mistress Margery answered with fear and humility.
"Then it will be well that you should, since I have commands to lay upon you concerning him," said the beauty.
"You do me honour," said the poor gentlewoman.
Mistress Clorinda looked her straight in the face.
"He is a gentleman from town, the kinsman of Lord Eldershawe," she said.
"He is a handsome man, concerning whom many women have been fools.