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.