You will let me call you Caterina ?' 'O yes, every one calls me Caterina, only when they call me Tina.' 'Come, come, more singing, more singing, little monkey,' Sir Christopher called out from the other side of the room.

'We have not had half enough yet.' Caterina was ready enough to obey, for while she was singing she was queen of the room, and Miss Assher was reduced to grimacing admiration.
Alas! you see what jealousy was doing in this poor young soul.

Caterina, who had passed her life as a little unobtrusive singing-bird, nestling so fondly under the wings that were outstretched for her, her heart beating only to the peaceful rhythm of love, or fluttering with some easily stifled fear, had begun to know the fierce palpitations of triumph and hatred.
When the singing was over, Sir Christopher and Lady Cheverel sat down to whist with Lady Assher and Mr.Gilfil, and Caterina placed herself at the Baronet's elbow, as if to watch the game, that she might not appear to thrust herself on the pair of lovers.

At first she was glowing with her little triumph, and felt the strength of pride; but her eye _would_ steal to the opposite side of the fireplace, where Captain Wybrow had seated himself close to Miss Assher, and was leaning with his arm over the back of the chair, in the most lover-like position.

Caterina began to feel a choking sensation.