Angry winter must be supposed to have departed; the fields and meadows to have thrown off his livery, and the woodland scene around Stratford-upon-Avon, to be dressed in the green investiture of the coming spring.
The hard pace of time therefore must be now imagined to be progressing with the fair Anne, inasmuch as she has been wooed and won by the youthful Shakespeare. She is indeed between the contract of her marriage and its solemnization.
It was one lovely evening, about this period of our story, that an exceedingly handsome female was sitting pensive and melancholy in her own apartment at Shottery Hall, a large mansion situated just without the village.
Our readers have before had a glimpse of this lady, during the eventful night of the party at Clopton, what time she was engaged in the dance with Walter Arderne. Clara de Mowbray had indeed, been one of the intimate friends of the fair Charlotte, her confidant and associate from childhood. She was herself an orphan, and possessed of great wealth; and although but one-and-twenty years of age, seemed to have already given up the pleasures of the world, and dedicated her days to good and charitable deeds in and around her own neighbourhood. She was, therefore, as a matter of course, the lady patroness of the little village near which she dwelt.
Whether it was that she mourned over the fate of the early friend, whose death had been attended with such awful and melancholy circumstances, or whether the loss of her parents had left a sad impression upon her spirits, we cannot tell; but certain it is, that Clara de Mowbray seemed to labour under some secret and deep-seated grief, which rendered society a burden to her.
As she sat on this evening in her own apartment, her attendant announced a maiden from the village, who was desirous of seeing her.
"'Tis the handsome Anne Hathaway——is it not?" inquired Clara. "Indeed I sent to request she would come hither."
"It is, lady," returned the attendant.
"Set a chair for her here beside the window, and wait on her in."
"They tell me she is soon to be wedded," said the attendant, as she brushed the chair with her apron, "and that she hath refused a good offer for the sake of her present lover."