"You here,Anne,"she said,"and looking with light-mindedness after gallant gentlemen!Mistress Margery should see to this and watch more closely,or we shall have unseemly stories told.YOU,sister,with your modest face and bashfulness!I had not thought it of you."Suddenly she crossed the room to where her sister stood drooping,and seized her by the shoulder,so that she could look her well in the face.
"What,"she said,with a mocking not quite harsh--"What is this?
Does a glance at a fine gallant,even taken from behind an oriel window,make such change indeed?I never before saw this look,nor this colour,forsooth;it hath improved thee wondrously,Anne--wondrously."
"Sister,"faltered Anne,"I so desired to see your birth-night ball-gown,of which Mistress Margery hath much spoken--I so desired--Ithought it would not matter if,the door being open and it spread forth upon the bed--I--I stole a look at it.And then I was tempted--and came in.""And then was tempted more,"Clorinda laughed,still regarding her downcast countenance shrewdly,"by a thing far less to be resisted--a fine gentleman from town,with love-locks falling on his shoulders and ladies'hearts strung at his saddle-bow by scores.Which found you the most beautiful?""Your gown is splendid,sister,"said Anne,with modest shyness.
"There will be no beauty who will wear another like it;or should there be one,she will not carry it as you will.""But the man--the man,Anne,"Clorinda laughed again."What of the man?"Anne plucked up just enough of her poor spirit to raise her eyes to the brilliant ones that mocked at her.
"With such gentlemen,sister,"she said,"is it like that I have aught to do?"Mistress Clorinda dropped her hand and left laughing.
"'Tis true,"she said,"it is not;but for this one time,Anne,thou lookest almost a woman.""'Tis not beauty alone that makes womanhood,"said Anne,her head on her breast again."In some book I have read that--that it is mostly pain.I am woman enough for that.""You have read--you have read,"quoted Clorinda."You are the bookworm,I remember,and filch romances and poems from the shelves.
And you have read that it is mostly pain that makes a woman?'Tis not true.'Tis a poor lie.I am a woman and I do not suffer--for IWILL not,that I swear!And when I take an oath I keep it,mark you!It is men women suffer for;that was what your scholar meant--for such fine gentlemen as the one you have just watched while he rode away.More fools they!No man shall make ME womanly in such a fashion,I promise you!Let THEM wince and kneel;I will not.""Sister,"Anne faltered,"I thought you were not within.The gentleman who rode away--did the servants know?""That did they,"quoth Clorinda,mocking again."They knew that Iwould not receive him to-day,and so sent him away.He might have known as much himself,but he is an arrant popinjay,and thinks all women wish to look at his fine shape,and hear him flatter them when he is in the mood.""You would not--let him enter?"
Clorinda threw her graceful body into a chair with more light laughter.
"I would not",she answered."You cannot understand such ingratitude,poor Anne;you would have treated him more softly.Sit down and talk to me,and I will show thee my furbelows myself.All women like to chatter of their laced bodices and petticoats.THATis what makes a woman."
Anne was tremulous with relief and pleasure.It was as if a queen had bid her to be seated.She sat almost with the humble lack of case a serving-woman might have shown.She had never seen Clorinda wear such an air before,and never had she dreamed that she would so open herself to any fellow-creature.She knew but little of what her sister was capable--of the brilliancy of her charm when she chose to condescend,of the deigning softness of her manner when she chose to please,of her arch-pleasantries and cutting wit,and of the strange power she could wield over any human being,gentle or simple,with whom she came in contact.But if she had not known of these things before,she learned to know them this morning.For some reason best known to herself,Mistress Clorinda was in a high good humour.She kept Anne with her for more than an hour,and was dazzling through every moment of its passing.She showed her the splendours she was to shine in at the birth-night ball,even bringing forth her jewels and displaying them.She told her stories of the house of which the young heir to-day attained his majority,and mocked at the poor youth because he was ungainly,and at a distance had been her slave since his nineteenth year.
