round under me; I only feel my head
and heart beating, and it seems as if I must do something dreadful. O! I
wonder if any one ever felt like me before. I must be very wicked. But
God will have pity on me; He knows all I have to bear.'

In this way the time wore on till Tina heard the sound of voices along
the passage, and became conscious that the volume of Tillotson had
slipped on the floor. She had only just picked it up, and seen with alarm
that the pages were bent, when Lady Assher, Beatrice, and Captain Wybrow
entered, all with that brisk and cheerful air which a sermon is often
observed to produce when it is quite finished.

Lady Assher at once came and seated herself by Caterina. Her ladyship had
been considerably refreshed by a doze, and was in great force for
monologue.

'Well, my dear Miss Sarti, and how do you feel now?--a little better, I
see. I thought you would be, sitting quietly here. These headaches, now,
are all from weakness. You must not over-exert yourself, and you must
take bitters. I used to have just the same sort of headaches when I was
your age, and old Dr Samson used to say to my mother, "Madam, what your
daughter suffers from is weakness." He was such a curious old man, was Dr
Samson. But I wish you could have heard the sermon this morning. Such an
excellent sermon! It was about the ten virgins: five of them were
foolish, and five were clever, you know; and Mr. Gilfil explained all
that. What a very pleasant young man he is! so very quiet and agreeable,
and such a good hand at whist. I wish we had him at Farleigh. Sir John
would have liked him beyond anything; he is so good-tempered at cards,
and he was such a man for cards, was Sir John. And our rector is a very
irritable man; he can't bear to lose his money at cards. I don't think a
clergyman ought to mind about losing his money; do you?--do you now?'

'O pray, Lady Assher,' interposed Beatrice, in her usual tone of
superiority, 'do not weary poor Caterina with such uninteresting
questions. Your head seems very bad still, dear,' she continued, in a
condoling tone, to Caterina; 'do take my vinaigrette, and keep it in your
pocket. It will perhaps refresh you now and then.'

'No, thank you,' answered Caterina; 'I will not take it away from you.'

'Indeed, dear, I never use it; you must take it,' Miss Assher persisted,
holding it close to Tina's hand. Tina coloured deeply, pushed the
vinaigrette away with some impatience, and said, 'Thank