Cassandra looked at her mother, startled. "He has come to ask you for a drive in the park—Blytheland!" "Oh!" Cassandra's heart beat a little faster, and an odd confused feeling came over her. Lady Hathaway turned to the butler. "And, Thrimble, take Lord Blytheland to the drawing room and offer him refreshment while he waits. I shall be down as soon as I tidy myself." The butler left and Lady Hathaway glanced at Cassandra. "What, are you still here? Silly girl! Go up, quickly! I will be with you directly to see that you dress as you ought." "But, Mama, my errand—" "Never mind, Psyche and I will attend to it. Just go!" Cassandra hurried up the stairs, wondering why her mother seemed so impatient of late. Her mother rarely dictated what she wore, for she trusted that Cassandra would choose her clothes carefully, and with an eye to modesty. Well, she would be careful to do just that; surely Mama would be pleased. But she was quite wrong. She had chosen a simple walking dress with a light woolen pelisse, which covered her from chin to toe, very pretty, too.
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