Something like the tumult of the past renewed itself in her mind when she found herself alone that night, and at liberty to think of the occurrences of that evening; but it did not last. Mr. Guyon was right. Any calculation founded on Katharine's pride could not fail; and that pride helped her in the very first hour of the resuscitation of the past. Believing as she did that there never had been any sincerity in the sentiment which Gordon Frere had affected towards her, she did not recognise change in the gay and unembarrassed manner which she had immediately observed; she imputed it to the discarding of the mask, the abandonment of the comedy; and so thinking, she wondered that she felt so little anger, so little disdain, so little emotion of any kind, all things considered. She recalled to memory every circumstance of that terrible day which had undeceived her; she recollected it, hour by hour, in its anguish of suspense, in its paroxysms of grief and anger; she remembered the faint deadly sickness which had come over her, and the dreadful despairing hours of the night. But she only remembered these things; she did not feel them again; and Katharine knew that with the last throbs of anger had passed away the last lingerings of her love for Gordon Frere. It had been real, very true, and fervent; and no doubt, had he returned it, as he had taught her to believe he did, it would have lasted through all the chances and changes of this mortal life; but it was dead and gone now, and the sight of him taught her that it was so. Before Katharine's eyes closed that night, after her long vigil of remembrances and reflections, she knew that she should, in all the future, meet Gordon Frere without any painful emotion, beyond a little irrepressible contempt. She was soon put to the test; for the acquaintance between Frere and Lady Henmarsh progressed rapidly; and Katharine was not spared the sight or the mention of him. Lady Henmarsh would not have put herself out of her way to annoy Katharine, but she was not unwilling to do so when it happened to come in her way; and she took an early opportunity of confiding to her her impression that Hester Gould was decidedly smitten with the good-looking young fellow, who really had no harm in him, and whose only fault was want of money. "He is really charming, Kate," Lady Henmarsh observed, with an air of candidly admitting a former error in judgment. "I was quite too hard on him in old times--an age ago--and I am ready to admit it. Of course _that_ would never have done; but every thing is all right now, and I am sure you are the happiest girl in the world; and as for that dear Mr. Streightley, he is a perfect prince."