ce of grave simplicity.

'O, I assure you, I doat on it; and Anthony is so fond of it; it would be
so delightful if I could play and sing to him; though he says he likes me
best not to sing, because it doesn't belong to his idea of me. What style
of music do you like best?'

'I don't know. I like all beautiful music.'

'And are you as fond of riding as of music?'

'No; I never ride. I think I should be very frightened.'

'O no! indeed you would not, after a little practice. I have never been
in the least timid. I think Anthony is more afraid for me than I am for
myself; and since I have been riding with him, I have been obliged to be
more careful, because he is so nervous about me.'

Caterina made no reply; but she said to herself, 'I wish she would go
away and not talk to me. She only wants me to admire her good-nature, and
to talk about Anthony.'

Miss Assher was thinking at the same time, 'This Miss Sarti seems a
stupid little thing. Those musical people often are. But she is prettier
than I expected; Anthony said she was not pretty.'

Happily at this moment Lady Assher called her daughter's attention to the
embroidered cushions, and Miss Assher, walking to the opposite sofa, was
soon in conversation with Lady Cheverel about tapestry and embroidery in
general, while her mother, feeling herself superseded there, came and
placed herself beside Caterina.

'I hear you are the most beautiful singer,' was of course the opening
remark. 'All Italians sing so beautifully. I travelled in Italy with Sir
John when we were first married, and we went to Venice, where they go
about in gondolas, you know. You don't wear powder, I see. No more will
Beatrice; though many people think her curls would look all the better
for powder. She has so much hair, hasn't she? Our last maid dressed it
much better than this; but, do you know, she wore Beatrice's stockings
before they went to the wash, and we couldn't keep her after that, could
we?'

Caterina, accepting the question as a mere bit of rhetorical effect,
thought it superfluous to reply, till Lady Assher repeated, 'Could we,
now?' as if Tina's sanction were essential to her repose of mind. After a
faint 'No', she went on.

'Maids are so very troublesome, and Beatrice is so particular, you can't
imagine. I often say to her, "My dear, you can't have perfection." That
very gown she has on--to be sure, it fits her beautifully now--but it has
been unmade and made up again twice.