passed by. She seemed to writhe with some concealed anguish; yet her lip
curled proudly, and her bosom heaved, as though striving to throw off,
with one last and desperate struggle, the oppression that she endured.
In this disturbed and unquiet frame did Kate pass on to her orisons.

It may be needful to pause for a brief space in our narrative, whilst we
give some account of this goodly spark who had so unexpectedly, as it
might seem, unfitted the lady for the due exercise of her morning
devotions.

His dress was elegant and becoming, and of the most costly materials.
His hat was high and tapering, encircled by a rich band of gold and rare
stones. It was further ornamented by a black feather, drooping gently
towards the left shoulder. The brim was rather narrow; but then a
profusion of curls fell from beneath, partly hiding his lace collar of
beautiful workmanship and of the newest device. His beard was small and
pointed; and his whiskers displayed that graceful wave peculiar to the
high-bred gallants of the age. His neck was long, and the elegant
disposal of his head would have turned giddy the heads of half the dames
in the Queen's court. He wore a crimson cloak, richly embroidered: this
was lined throughout with blue silk, and thrown negligently on one side.
His doublet was grey, with slit sleeves; the arm parts, towards the
shoulder, wide and slashed;--but who shall convey an adequate idea of
the brilliant green breeches, tied far below the knee with yellow
ribbands, red cloth hose, and great shoe-roses? For ourselves we own our
incompetence, and proceed, glancing next at his goodly person. In size
he was not tall nor unwieldy, but of a reasonable stature, such as
denotes health, activity, and a frame capable of great endurance. He
stepped proudly along, his very gait indicating superiority.

The town gallants looked on his person with envy, and on his light
rapier with mistrust. In sooth, he was a proper man for stealing a
lady's heart, either in hall or bower. Many had been his victims;--many
were then in the last extremities of love. But of him it was currently
spoken that he had never yet been subjected to its influence.

There be divers modes of falling into love. Some slip in through means
of themselves; to wit, from sheer vanity, being never so well pleased as
when they are the objects of admiration. Some from sheer contradiction,
and from the well-known tendency of extremes to meet. Some, for very
idle