t,
an' light your fire. See now, here's some nice arrowroot, wi' a drop o'
wine in it. Take that, an' it'll warm you. I must go down again, for I
can't awhile to stay. There's so many things to see to; an' Miss Assher's
in hysterics constant, an' her maid's ill i' bed--a poor creachy
thing--an' Mrs. Sharp's wanted every minute. But I'll send Martha up, an'
do you get ready to go to bed, there's a dear child, an' take care o'
yourself.'

'Thank you, dear mammy,' said Tina, kissing the little old woman's
wrinkled cheek; 'I shall eat the arrowroot, and don't trouble about me
any more to-night. I shall do very well when Martha has lighted my fire.
Tell Mr. Gilfil I'm better. I shall go to bed by-and-by, so don't you
come up again, because you may only disturb me.'

'Well, well, take care o' yourself, there's a good child, an' God send
you may sleep.'

Caterina took the arrowroot quite eagerly, while Martha was lighting her
fire. She wanted to get strength for her journey, and she kept the plate
of biscuits by her that she might put some in her pocket. Her whole mind
was now bent on going away from the Manor, and she was thinking of all
the ways and means her little life's experience could suggest.

It was dusk now; she must wait till early dawn, for she was too timid to
go away in the dark, but she must make her escape before any one was up
in the house. There would be people watching Anthony in the library, but
she could make her way out of a small door leading into the garden,
against the drawing-room on the other side of the house.

She laid her cloak, bonnet, and veil ready; then she lighted a candle,
opened her desk, and took out the broken portrait wrapped in paper. She
folded it again in two little notes of Anthony's, written in pencil, and
placed it in her bosom. There was the little china box, too--Dorcas's
present, the pearl ear-rings, and a silk purse, with fifteen
seven-shilling pieces in it, the presents Sir Christopher had made her on
her birthday, ever since she had been at the Manor. Should she take the
earrings and the seven-shilling pieces? She could not bear to part with
them; it seemed as if they had some of Sir Christopher's love in them.
She would like them to be buried with her. She fastened the little round
earrings in her ears, and put the purse with Dorcas's box in her pocket.
She had another purse there, and she took it out to count her money, for
she would never spend her seven-shilling piec