you, I never use
those things. I don't like vinaigrettes.'

Miss Assher returned the vinaigrette to her pocket in surprise and
haughty silence, and Captain Wybrow, who had looked on in some alarm,
said hastily, 'See! it is quite bright out of doors now. There is time
for a walk before luncheon. Come, Beatrice, put on your hat and cloak,
and let us have half an hour's walk on the gravel.'

'Yes, do, my dear,' said Lady Assher, 'and I will go and see if Sir
Christopher is having his walk in the gallery.'

As soon as the door had closed behind the two ladies, Captain Wybrow,
standing with his back to the fire, turned towards Caterina, and said in
a tone of earnest remonstrance, 'My dear Caterina. Let me beg of you to
exercise more control over your feelings; you are really rude to Miss
Assher, and I can see that she is quite hurt. Consider how strange your
behaviour must appear to her. She will wonder what can be the cause of
it. Come, dear Tina,' he added, approaching her, and attempting to take
her hand; 'for your own sake let me entreat you to receive her attentions
politely. She really feels very kindly towards you, and I should be so
happy to see you friends.'

Caterina was already in such a state of diseased susceptibility that the
most innocent words from Captain Wybrow would have been irritating to
her, as the whirr of the most delicate wing will afflict a nervous
patient. But this tone of benevolent remonstrance was intolerable. He had
inflicted a great and unrepented injury on her, and now he assumed an air
of benevolence towards her. This was a new outrage. His profession of
goodwill was insolence.

Caterina snatched away her hand and said indignantly, 'Leave me to
myself, Captain Wybrow! I do not disturb you.'

'Caterina, why will you be so violent--so unjust to me? It is for you
that I feel anxious. Miss Assher has already noticed how strange your
behaviour is both to her and me, and it puts me into a very difficult
position. What can I say to her?'

'Say?' Caterina burst forth with intense bitterness, rising, and moving
towards the door; 'say that I am a poor silly girl, and have fallen in
love with you, and am jealous of her; but that you have never had any
feeling but pity for me--you have never behaved with anything more than
friendliness to me. Tell her that, and she will think all the better of
you.'

Tina uttered this as the bitterest sarcasm her ideas would furnish her
with, not having the f