Sir Christopher had always something playful to say to Caterina.

’Now, little monkey, you must be in your best voice:  you’re the minstrel of the Manor, you know, and be sure you have a pretty gown and a new ribbon.  You must not be dressed in russet, though you are a singing-bird.’  Or perhaps, ’It is your turn to be courted next, Tina.  But don’t you learn any naughty proud airs.  I must have Maynard let off easily.’

Caterina’s affection for the old Baronet helped her to summon up a smile as he stroked her cheek and looked at her kindly, but that was the moment at which she felt it most difficult not to burst out crying.  Lady Cheverel’s conversation and presence were less trying; for her ladyship felt no more than calm satisfaction in this family event; and besides, she was further sobered by a little jealousy at Sir Christopher’s anticipation of pleasure in seeing Lady Assher, enshrined in his memory as a mild-eyed beauty of sixteen, with whom he had exchanged locks before he went on his first travels.  Lady Cheverel would have died rather than confess it, but she couldn’t help hoping that he would be disappointed in Lady Assher, and rather ashamed of having called her so charming.

Mr. Gilfil watched Caterina through these days with mixed feelings.  Her suffering went to his heart; but, even for her sake, he was glad that a love which could never come to good should be no longer fed by false hopes; and how could he help saying to himself, ’Perhaps, after a while, Caterina will be tired of fretting about that cold-hearted puppy, and then . . .’

At length the much-expected day arrived, and the brightest of September suns was lighting up the yellowing lime-trees, as about five o’clock Lady Assher’s carriage drove under the portico.  Caterina, seated at work in her own room, heard the rolling of the wheels, followed presently by the opening and shutting of doors, and the sound of voices in the corridors.  Remembering that the dinner-hour was six, and that Lady Cheverel had desired her to be in the drawing-room early, she started up to dress, and was delighted to find herself feeling suddenly brave and strong.  Curiosity to see Miss Assher—­the thought that Anthony was in the house—­the wish not to look unattractive, were feelings that brought some colour to her lips, and made it easy to attend to her toilette.  They would ask her to sing this evening, and she would sing well.  Miss Assher should not think her utterly insignificant.  So she put on her grey silk gown and her cherry coloured ribbon with as much care as if she had been herself the betrothed; not forgetting the pair of round pearl earrings which Sir Christopher had told Lady Cheverel to give her, because Tina’s little ears were so pretty.

Quick as she had been, she found Sir Christopher and Lady Cheverel in the drawing-room chatting with Mr. Gilfil, and telling him how handsome Miss Assher was, but how entirely unlike her mother—­apparently resembling her father only.