her composure. She had learnt from a female attendant, that her uncle
wished to see her before she left, and had also gleaned the satisfactory
intelligence, that the gentlemen would take coffee at table. The
prospect of seeing them no more, contributed greatly to calm her
agitation, and, taking up a book, she composed herself to read.

She started sometimes, when the sudden opening of the dining-room door
let loose a wild shout of noisy revelry, and more than once rose in
great alarm, as a fancied footstep on the staircase impressed her
with the fear that some stray member of the party was returning
alone. Nothing occurring, however, to realise her apprehensions, she
endeavoured to fix her attention more closely on her book, in which
by degrees she became so much interested, that she had read on through
several chapters without heed of time or place, when she was terrified
by suddenly hearing her name pronounced by a man's voice close at her
ear.

The book fell from her hand. Lounging on an ottoman close beside her,
was Sir Mulberry Hawk, evidently the worse--if a man be a ruffian at
heart, he is never the better--for wine.

'What a delightful studiousness!' said this accomplished gentleman. 'Was
it real, now, or only to display the eyelashes?'

Kate, looking anxiously towards the door, made no reply.

'I have looked at 'em for five minutes,' said Sir Mulberry. 'Upon my
soul, they're perfect. Why did I speak, and destroy such a pretty little
picture?'