So the parents watched with anxious eyes, eager to see some indication which should encourage them in this newly-formulated hope.  When once the idea had been started, it seemed to both as if nothing could be better than a marriage between their high-spirited but affectionate and warm-hearted daughter and this knight of forty summers, who had won for himself wealth and fame, and a soldier’s reputation for unblemished honour and courage in many foreign lands.  If not exactly the man to produce an immediate impression on the heart of a young girl, he might well win his way to favour in time; and certainly it did seem as though Kate took pleasure in listening to his stories of flood and field, whilst her bright eyes and merry saucy ways (for she was still her old bright self at times, and never more frequently so than in the company of Sir Robert) appeared very attractive to him.

When we are increasingly wishful for a certain turn in affairs, and begin sedulously to watch for it, unconsciously setting ourselves to work to aid and abet, and push matters on to the desired consummation, it is wonderful how easy it is to believe all is going as we wish, and to see in a thousand little trifling circumstances corroboration of our wishes.  Before another fortnight had sped by, Kate’s parents had almost fully persuaded themselves of the truth of their suspicion.  They were convinced that the attachment between their child and their guest was advancing rapidly, and a day came when Sir Richard sought his wife with a very happy expression of countenance.

“Well, wife, the doubt will shortly be at an end.  Sir Robert has spoken openly at last.”

“Spoken of his love for our Kate?”

“Not in these words, but the meaning is the same.  He has asked me if I am willing to entrust one of my daughters to his keeping.”

“One of our daughters?” repeated Lady Frances.  “And did he not name Kate?  He cannot love them all.”

“He spoke of Cecilia and Kate both,” answered Sir Richard.  “Sir Robert is not a hot-headed youth, full of the fire of a first passion.  He wishes an alliance with our house, and he sees that Cecilia, with her four years’ seniority, would perchance in the eyes of the world be the more suitable wife; and he admires her beauty, and thinks well of her dutifulness, her steadiness, and her many virtues.  Yet it is Kate that takes his fancy most, and if he could hope to win the wayward fancy and the warm heart of our second child, she is the one whom he would fain choose as his own.  He has spoken freely and frankly to me, and it comes to this:  he would willingly marry Cecilia, and doubtless make her an excellent husband, and value the connection with the house of Trevlyn; but if he could succeed in winning the love of our saucy Kate, he would sooner have her than the more staid sister, only he fears his gray hairs and his wrinkles will unfit him as a suitor for the child.  But we, who suspect her heart of turning towards him, have little fear of this.  Kate’s sharp eyes have looked beneath the surface.  She has shown that she has a wise head upon her shoulders.  So I told Sir Robert—­”