coral-veined wood; she sung soft and tenderly
of the amours of Corydon, and neither her voice nor the low tinkling
of the spinet reached to the further end of the room where Adrian
Cantemir played upon the grand harpsichord a dashing piece that was
intended to charm at least, the beauteous Katherine, who stood near.
Lord Cedric leant over and begged the Russian count to change the tune
to a gavotte. He did so, and Cedric brought forth Katherine and placed
her fair to watch his step till she might catch the changes. Thus he
trained her carefully and with precision, and when Cantemir saw the
trap that held him where he was and gave Lord Cedric the upper-hand,
he fell into the spleen and played out of time, and Cedric flung
around and caught his spur in Dame Seymour's petticoats, and he swore
beneath his breath, and Katherine smiled at his discomfiture and her
own untutored grace, and she made bold and took a step or two on her
own dependence. Then there chimed eight from the old French clock of
black boule that sat upon a cabinet of tortoise-shell, and it stirred
the swains to think of donning 'broidered waist-coats and high-heeled
shoon preparatory to the prandial hour, when fresh game and old wine
would strengthen stomach and head; and they bowed low over tapering
fingers and cast a parting dart at female hearts, and climbed the
great oaken stairway to don their fine beaux' dress.

'Twas eleven o' the clock when the gay company again entered the
saloon; gentlemen in fresh curled periwigs and marvels of laces and
'broiderings. They were gay with post-prandium cheer and flushed with
wine.

Lord Cedric clapped his hands and immediately from some curtained
passage or gallery there was music; each instrument seeming to lead
in contrapuntal skill. His Lordship led forth Katherine and others
followed in the movement of the passacaille. Mistress Penwick was
beneath a great lustre that shone down and set her shoulder knot
ablaze with brilliancy, when Lady Constance passed and noted it.
She bit her lip from sheer pain, for 'twas Cedric's mother's prized
brooch, and through her heart fell a thunderbolt of fear; for now she
knew he would not allow a baggage to wear a thing so valued by the
mother whose memory he so loved. She began to fear this beauteous
thing could not be ousted so easily from her kinsman's castle; and her
heart rebelled at thought of losing him for spouse. She raged within,
reproaching herself for not hastenin