herself at once into the impetuous intricacies of that
magnificent fugue. In her happiest moments she could never have played it
so well: for now all the passion that made her misery was hurled by a
convulsive effort into her music, just as pain gives new force to the
clutch of the sinking wrestler, and as terror gives farsounding intensity
to the shriek of the feeble.

But at half-past eleven she was interrupted by Lady Cheverel, who said,
'Tina, go down, will you, and hold Miss Assher's silks for her. Lady
Assher and I have decided on having our drive before luncheon.'

Caterina went down, wondering how she should escape from the drawing-room
in time to be in the Rookery at twelve. Nothing should prevent her from
going; nothing should rob her of this one precious moment--perhaps the
last--when she could speak out the thoughts that were in her. After that,
she would be passive; she would bear anything.

But she had scarcely sat down with a skein of yellow silk on her hands,
when Miss Assher said, graciously,--'I know you have an engagement with
Captain Wybrow this morning. You must not let me detain you beyond the
time.'

'So he has been talking to her about me,' thought Caterina. Her hands
began to tremble as she held the skein.

Miss Assher continued in the same gracious tone: 'It is tedious work
holding these skeins. I am sure I am very much obliged to you.'

'No, you are not obliged to me,' said Caterina, completely mastered by
her irritation; 'I have only done it because Lady Cheverel told me.'

The moment was come when Miss Assher could no longer suppress her long
latent desire to 'let Miss Sarti know the impropriety of her conduct.'
With the malicious anger that assumes the tone of compassion, she said,
--'Miss Sarti, I am really sorry for you, that you are not able to
control yourself better. This giving way to unwarrantable feelings is
lowering you--it is indeed.'

'What unwarrantable feelings?' said Caterina, letting her hands fall, and
fixing her great dark eyes steadily on Miss Assher. 'It is quite
unnecessary for me to say more. You must be conscious what I mean. Only
summon a sense of duty to your aid. You are paining Captain Wybrow
extremely by your want of self-control.'

'Did he tell you I pained him?'

'Yes, indeed, he did. He is very much hurt that you should behave to me
as if you had a sort of enmity towards me. He would like you to make a
friend of me. I assure you we both feel very kin