Year: 1859




Before night all hope was gone. DR.. Hart
had said it was death; Anthony's body had
been carried to the house, and every one there
knew the calamity that had fallen on them.


Caterina had been questioned by DR.. Hart,
and had answered briefly that she found Antho:
ny lying in the Rookery. That she should have
been walking there just at that time was not a
coincidence to raise conjectures in any one be-
sides Mr.. Gilfl. Except in answering this
question, she had not broken her silence. She
sat mute in a corner of the gardeners kitchen,
shaking her head when Maynard entreated her
to return with him, and apparently unable to
think of anything but theposslbility that An
thony might revive, until she saw them carry
ing away the body to the house. Then she
followed by Sir Christophcr's side again, so
quietly that even Dr. Hart did not object to her
presence.


1t was decided to lay the body in the library
until after the coroner's inquest tomorrow, and
when Caterina saw the door finally closed, she
turned up the gallery stairs on her way to her
own room, the place where she felt at home
with her sorrows. 1t was the first time she had
been in the gallery since that terrible moment
in the morning, and now the spot and the OBJ
jects around began to reawaken her half-stun-
ned memory. The armor was no longer glitter
ing in the sunlight, but there 1t hung dead and
sombre above the cabinet from which she had
taken the dagger. Yes now it all came back
to her-all the wretchedness and all the SIM
But where was the dagger now? She felt in
her pocket; it was not there. Could it have
been her faney-all that about the dagger ?
She looked into the cabinet it was not there.
Alas no; it could not have been her fancy,
and she acas guilty of that wickedness. But
where could the dagger be now Could it have
fallen out of her pocket? She heard steps as
cending the stairs, and hurried on to her room,
where, kneeling by the bed, and burying her
face to shut out the hateful light, she tried to
recall every feeling and incident of the morn
ing.


1t all came back; everything Anthony had
done, and everything she had felt for the last
month--for many months-ever since that june
evening when he had spoken to her in the gal
lery. She looked back on her storms of passion
her jealousy and hatred of Miss ASHER, hel
thoughts of revenge on Anthony. 0 how wick
ed she had been 1t was she who had been sin
ming it was she who had driven him to say
those things that had made her 80 angry. Ant
il he had wronged her, what had she been O,
the verge of doing to him? She was too wick
ed ever to be pardoned. She would like to con
fess how wicked she had been, that they nigh
punish her; she would like to humble herself t.
the dust before every one-before Miss Asshe
even. Sir Christopher would send her away
would never see her again, if he knew all
and she would be happier to be punished ant
frowned on, than to be treated tenderly Will
she had that guilty secret in her breast. Blu
then, if Sir Christopher were to know all,
would add to his sorrow, and make him NOR
wretched than ever. No she could not con
Tess it-she should have to tell about Anthony
But she could not stay at the Manor she mus
go away; she could not bear Sir Christopher
eye. could not bear the sight of all these thing
that reminded her of Anthony and of her sin
Perhaps she should die soon she felt very fec
BILE; there could not bc much life in her. Sb
would go away and live humbly, and pray
God to pardon her, and let her die.


The poor child never thought of suicide. N
sooner was the storm of anger passed than tt
tenderness and timidity of her nature returne,
and she do could nothing but love and mourn
Her inexperence prevented her from imagnr
the onsaquences of her disappearance from tt
Manor she foresaw none of the terrible detail
of alarm and distress and search that must e.
sue. "They will think am dead" she sa
to herself. '' aud by-and-by they will forget m