nothing, but wandered from the house to the garden, and from the garden to the house, in all the restlessness of anticipation. Suddenly, she thought Lord Avonleigh would, as soon as the packet was read, perhaps come to see her. A natural emotion of feminine vanity made her desire to look as well as she could; and, to her foreign and classical taste, the close cap and grey boddice which she had lately been wearing were odious—besides, she wished, it possible, to recall by her appearance all his early associations with Italy.
For the first time for many weeks her beautiful black hair was released from the confinement of the plaited muslin border, and bound up in its own rich braids round the small and graceful head. For a moment she turned a hesitating glance towards the gay attire that had only been opened to show Lucy since she left Paris; but, to say nothing of the inconsistency of such courtly garb in her present abode, their fashion would recall nothing to her father's mind, while a more national costume would carry him at once back to Parma. She therefore assumed the novice's garb, so universally worn by young Italians—a robe of black silk, only fastened round the waist by a girdle. And scarcely could she have selected aught more
