rds
and understand them and demean thyself accordingly. To-night thou
wilt come to the drawing-room at the prandium hour, and 'twill be my
pleasure to seat thee at table, and 'twould be best if I acknowledged
our espousal."

"Nay, nay, I will not come then."

"Thou shalt come if thou art in the castle," Janet's scowling
face under cover of the high-backed chair stopped his lordship's
impetuosity, "hast a frock, Kate? thou shalt go to the chest and find
for thee some bright thing and I will send from Crandlemar a woman to
help thee with thy attire. Angel will come to take thee to see the
jewels, and thou shalt have those thou carest to take. I would see
thy choice, Kate. I can almost guess it now. So come, Kate, the storm
without should insure good cheer within; and with thy bright face the
castle will be aglow. Come, say _au revoir_, Kate." She held out her
hand and faltered forth _au revoir_. There was the language of the
convent in that one word and it rung sweet upon her ear. He took her
hand between his own and bent and kissed it tenderly, "_au revoir, au
revoir_" he said, then turned quickly from her.

Outside stood old flabby-face, as Janet pleased to call her, when
alone with Katherine, but designated by the servants as Sophia.

"His Ludship ordered Mistress Penwick's room changed."

"Thou dost mean, rather, he advised a change of room; 'twould be
difficult to convey the tower chamber elsewhere."

It was a beautiful room into which Sophia led them and beyond were
others belonging to the same suite, all in white and gold, with
mirrors and painted walls garlanded with cupids and floral wreaths,
and silken curtains at bed and windows; and cushions and beautiful
venuses and rare potpourri. And when they were quite alone Janet
strutted up and down the rooms enjoying the fulness of her cup.

"'Tis more than thou dreamed again, eh, Lady Pen wick? Thou hast
fallen heir to a queen's portion without the ennui of satiety."

"Truly 'tis a wondrous castle; but Janet can Lord Cedric espouse me
because he is my guardian?"

"Nay, child, but he loves thee, and he means to win thee if 'tis
possible. He is young and self-willed and passionful, and he will have
his own way. Dost like him, Lambkin?"

"Somewhat, but I hate him most."

"Thou wilt impeach thy sweet tongue by that viscid 'hate'; thou hadst
better indulge in less of devil's warfare and leave room for digestion
of gentle peace. Thou hast bloomed into a beaute