her one day's pleasure; but soon stopped this, remembering Who sends
storm and thunder, and feeling afraid to murmur. Then she remembered
that perhaps she deserved to be disappointed. She had been wild and
troublesome, had spoilt Adelaide's birthday, teazed Mary, and made
kind Lady de la Poer grave and displeased.

She would say how sorry she was, and ask pardon. But the two ladies
still stood talking. She must wait till this stranger was gone. And
while she was waiting--how it was she knew not--but Countess Kate was
fast asleep.



CHAPTER VIII.



When Kate opened her eyes again, and turned her face up from the
pillow, she saw the drops on the window shining in the sun, and Lady
de la Poer, with her bonnet off, reading under it.

All that had happened began to return on Kate's brain in a funny
medley; and the first thing she exclaimed was, "Oh! those poor little
fishes, how I must have frightened them!"

"My dear!"

"Do you think I did much mischief?" said Kate, raising herself on her
arm. "I am sure the fishes must have been frightened, and the water-
lilies broken. Oh! you can't think how nasty their great coiling