Mabel ate hungrily, and grumbled not a little.  Catherine was also hungry, but she did not grumble.  She was never one to care greatly for the luxuries of life, and all her thoughts now were taken up watching her mother.  The effect of her mother’s sudden confidence in her, the effect of the trouble which had undoubtedly come to her mother had altogether an extraordinary influence over Catherine.  She ceased to be a wild and reckless tom-boy, she ceased to defy her mother in small matters; her character seemed to gain strength, and her face, always strong in its expression and giving many indications of latent power of character, looked now more serious than gay, more sweet and thoughtful than fastidious and discontented.

Catherine had plenty of tact, and she watched her mother without appearing to watch her.  She was loyal, too, in heart and soul, and never even hinted to others of the confidence reposed in her.

It was a lovely summer’s morning.  Catherine and Mabel were up early; they were picking raspberries to add to the meagre provisions for breakfast.  It was always difficult to manage a pleasant breakfast hour when Loftus was at home.  Mrs. Bertram used to flush up painfully when Loftus objected to the viands placed before him, and Catherine was most anxious to spare her mother by satisfying the fastidious tastes of her brother.

“Why should Loftus have all the raspberries?” angrily queried Mabel.  “I should like some myself, and so would you, Kate.  Why should Loftus have everything?”

“Nonsense, May, he’s not going to have everything.  This plate of special beauties is for mother.”

“Well, that’s quite right.  Loftus and you and I can divide the rest.”

“May, I’m going to whisper a secret to you.  Now, don’t let it out, for the lords of creation would be so angry if they knew.  But I do think in little things girls are much greater than men.  Now what girl who is worth anything cares whether she eats a few raspberries or not.  While as to the men—­I consider them nothing but crybabies about their food.  Here, Mab, race me to the house.”

Mabel puffed and panted after her more energetic sister.  It was a very hot morning, and it really was aggravating of Kate to fly on the wings of the wind, and expect her to follow.

“Kate has no thought,” she muttered, as she panted along.  “I shall feel hot and messy for the day now, and there’s nothing nice for me to eat when I do get in.  It’s all very fine to be Kate, who, I don’t think, is mortal at all about some things, but I expect I’m somewhat of a cry-baby too, when I see all the nice appetizing food disappearing down a certain manly throat.  Hullo, what’s the matter now, Kitty?”

Catherine was standing by the window of the breakfast-room waving an open note in her hand.

“Three cheers for you, Mabel!  You may be as greedy as you please.  The knight of the raspberry plantation has departed.  Read this; I found it on my plate.”