have died rather than
confess it, but she couldn't help hoping that he would be disappointed in
Lady Assher, and rather ashamed of having called her so charming.

Mr. Gilfil watched Caterina through these days with mixed feelings. Her
suffering went to his heart; but, even for her sake, he was glad that a
love which could never come to good should be no longer fed by false
hopes; and how could he help saying to himself, 'Perhaps, after a while,
Caterina will be tired of fretting about that cold-hearted puppy, and
then . . .'

At length the much-expected day arrived, and the brightest of September
suns was lighting up the yellowing lime-trees, as about five o'clock Lady
Assher's carriage drove under the portico. Caterina, seated at work in
her own room, heard the rolling of the wheels, followed presently by the
opening and shutting of doors, and the sound of voices in the corridors.
Remembering that the dinner-hour was six, and that Lady Cheverel had
desired her to be in the drawing-room early, she started up to dress, and
was delighted to find herself feeling suddenly brave and strong.
Curiosity to see Miss Assher--the thought that Anthony was in the
house--the wish not to look unattractive, were feelings that brought
some colour to her lips, and made it easy to attend to her toilette.
They would ask her to sing this evening, and she would sing well. Miss
Assher should not think her utterly insignificant. So she put on her
grey silk gown and her cherry coloured ribbon with as much care as if
she had been herself the betrothed; not forgetting the pair of round
pearl earrings which Sir Christopher had told Lady Cheverel to give her,
because Tina's little ears were so pretty.

Quick as she had been, she found Sir Christopher and Lady Cheverel in the
drawing-room chatting with Mr. Gilfil, and telling him how handsome Miss
Assher was, but how entirely unlike her mother--apparently resembling her
father only.

'Aha!' said Sir Christopher, as he turned to look at Caterina, 'what do
you think of this, Maynard? Did you ever see Tina look so pretty before?
Why, that little grey gown has been made out of a bit of my
lady's, hasn't it? It doesn't take anything much larger than a
pocket-handkerchief to dress the little monkey.'

Lady Cheverel, too, serenely radiant in the assurance a single glance had
given her of Lady Assher's inferiority, smiled approval, and Caterina was
in one of those moods of self possession and indiffere