"You must sit with us on the lawn, and drink our tea, and eat our strawberries." Catherine had given a quick, lightning glance at her mother's face.
She saw a cloud there, she guessed the cause.

She felt certain that her mother would consult Mr.Ingram on the subject of Beatrice.

Mr.Ingram's report was not satisfactory.

Delightful! She felt the imp of mischief taking possession of her.

She was a girl of many moods and tenses.
At times she could even be sombre.