ated with
exultation, remaining an agreeable mystery.

Mr. Bates's song formed the climax of the evening's good-fellowship, and
the party soon after dispersed--Mrs. Bellamy perhaps to dream of
quicklime flying among her preserving-pans, or of love-sick housemaids
reckless of unswept corners--and Mrs. Sharp to sink into pleasant visions
of independent housekeeping in Mr. Bates's cottage, with no bells to
answer, and with fruit and vegetables_ ad libitum_.

Caterina soon conquered all prejudices against her foreign blood; for
what prejudices will hold out against helplessness and broken prattle?
She became the pet of the household, thrusting Sir Christopher's
favourite bloodhound of that day, Mrs. Bellamy's two canaries, and Mr.
Bates's largest Dorking hen, into a merely secondary position. The
consequence was, that in the space of a summer's day she went through a
great cycle of experiences, commencing with the somewhat acidulated
goodwill of Mrs. Sharp's nursery discipline. Then came the grave luxury
of her ladyship's sitting-room, and, perhaps, the dignity of a ride on
Sir Christopher's knee, sometimes followed by a visit with him to the
stables, where Caterina soon learned to hear without crying the baying of
the chained bloodhounds, and say, with ostentatious bravery, clinging to
Sir Christopher's leg all the while, 'Dey not hurt Tina.' Then Mrs.
Bellamy would perhaps be going out to gather the rose-leaves and
lavender, and Tina was made proud and happy by being allowed to carry a
handful in her pinafore; happier still, when they were spread out on
sheets to dry, so that she could sit down like a frog among them, and
have them poured over her in fragrant showers. Another frequent pleasure
was to take a journey with Mr. Bates through the kitchen-gardens and the
hothouses, where the rich bunches of green and purple grapes hung from
the roof, far out of reach of the tiny yellow hand that could not help
stretching itself out towards them; though the hand was sure at last to
be satisfied with some delicate-flavoured fruit or sweet-scented flower.
Indeed, in the long monotonous leisure of that great country-house, you
may be sure there was always some one who had nothing better to do than
to play with Tina. So that the little southern bird had its northern nest
lined with tenderness, and caresses, and pretty things. A loving
sensitive nature was too likely, under such nurture, to have its
susceptibility heightened into un