Soon afterwards she was informed her time drew very near.
She made her toilet carefully, and passed with her attendant into a small room under the court.
Here she had to endure another chilling wait, and in a sombre room.
Presently she heard a voice above her cry out, "The King versus Catherine Gaunt."
Then she was beckoned to.
She mounted some steps, badly lighted, and found herself in the glare of day, and greedy eyes, in the felon's dock.
In a matter entirely strange, we seldom know beforehand what we can do, and how we shall carry ourselves. Mrs. Gaunt no sooner set her foot in that dock, and saw tiny awful front of Justice face to face, than her tremors abated, and all her powers awoke, and she thrilled with love of life, and bristled with all those fine arts of defense that nature lends to superior women.
She entered on that defense before she spoke a word; for she attacked the prejudices of the court by deportment.
She curtsied reverently to the Judge, and contrived to make her reverence seem a wiling homage, unmixed with fear.
She cast her eyes round, and saw the court thronged with ladies and gentlemen she knew. In a moment she read in their faces that only two or three were on her side. She bowed to those only; and they returned her courtesy. This gave an impression (a false one) that the gentry sympathized with her.