“Not that the child had loved him unbidden, I trust, my husband?  I would not have him think that!”

“Verily no, goodwife; but I told him there was no man living to whom I would more gladly give a daughter of mine; and that I would sound both of the maidens, and see how their hearts were set towards him.  But I trow he went away happy, thinking he might win Kate after all.  I could not but whisper a word of hope, and tell him how wondrous tame the wild bird had latterly become, and how that her mother had wondered whether thoughts of love had entered into her head.”

Lady Frances smiled, half shaking her head the while, yet not entirely displeased even with such an admission as that.  She had been watching her daughter closely of late, and she had tried to think as she wished to think; the consequence being that she had reached a very decided conclusion in accordance with her desires, and had small doubts as to the state of her daughter’s heart.

“I verily believe the child’s sadness has come from the fear that her youth will stand as a bar to her happiness.  She knows Sir Robert is old enough to be her father, and fears that his attentions are paid as to a child.  Thus has she striven to grow more wise, more womanly, more fit to be the mistress of his house.  Methinks I see it all.  And what is the next thing to be done?  Must we speak with the child?”

“Ay, verily; for I have promised an answer to Sir Robert before many days have passed.  He is to come again at the week’s end, and his bride is to be presented to him.  Thinkest thou that Cecilia will be grieved to find her younger sister preferred before her?  Does she, too, think aught of Sir Robert?”

“I trow she likes him well, though whether she has thought of him as husband or lover I know not.  She is more discreet than Kate, and can better hide her feelings.  I doubt not were her hand asked she would give it gladly; but more than that I cannot say.”

“Then let us hope her heart has not been deeply touched, for I should be sorry to give her pain.  But let us incontinently send for Kate hither at once to us.  I shall rejoice to see the light of untroubled happiness shining once again in those bright eyes.  I would fain see my saucy Kate her own self again ere she leaves us as a wedded wife.”

So Kate was summoned, and came before her parents with something of timidity in her aspect, looking furtively from one to the other, as if a question trembled on her lips that she did not dare to utter.

She had changed in many ways from the gay, laughing girl of a few months back.  There were the same resolution and individuality in the expression of the face, and the delicate features had by no means lost all their old animation and bloom; but there was greater depth in the dark eyes, and more earnestness and gravity in the expression of both eyes and mouth.  There was added sweetness as well as added thoughtfulness; and mingling strangely with these newer expressions was one still stranger on the face of Kate—­a look of shrinking, almost of fear, as though she were treading some dangerous path, where lurked hidden perils that might at any moment overwhelm her.