Surely no woman, however beautiful or proud, could dismiss his suit when he pressed it.
And then, poor woman, her imagination strove to paint the splendour of their mutual love, though of such love she knew so little.

But it must, in sooth, be bliss and rapture; and perchance, was her humble thought, she might see it from afar, and hear of it.

And when they went to court, and Clorinda had a great mansion in town, and many servants who needed a housewife's eye upon their doings to restrain them from wastefulness and riot, might it not chance to be that if she served well now, and had the courage to plead with her then, she might be permitted to serve her there, living quite apart in some quiet corner of the house.

And then 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.