A CROOKED PATH

_A NOVEL_

BY MRS. ALEXANDER, _Author of "The Wooing O't, " "A Life Interest, " Etc. _

NEW YORK THE F. M. LUPTON PUBLISHING COMPANY, NOS. 72-76 WALKER STREET. 

A CROOKED PATH. 

CHAPTER I. 

"GATHERING CLOUDS. "

The London season had not yet reached its height, some years ago, beforethe arch admitting to Constitution Hill had been swept back to make roomfor the huge, ever-increasing stream of traffic, or the plebeian 'bushad been permitted to penetrate the precincts of Hamilton Place. It wasthe forenoon of a splendid day, one of the earliest of June, and at thathour the roadway between the entrance to Hyde Park and the gate thensurmounted by the statue of the Duke of Wellington on his drooping steedwas comparatively free, when two gentlemen coming from oppositedirections recognized each other, and paused at the gate of ApsleyHouse--the elder, a stout, florid man of military aspect, middle age, and average height, with large gray mustache and small, slightlybloodshot eyes; the younger, who was tall and bony, might have beenthirty, or even forty, so grave and sedate was his bearing, although hiserect carriage, elastic step, and clear keen dark eyes suggested earliermanhood. 

Both had the indescribable well-groomed, freshly bathed look peculiar toEnglishmen of the "upper ten. "

"Ha! Errington! I didn't know you were in town. I thought you werecruising somewhere with Melford, or rusticating at Garston Hall. I thinkyour father expected you about this time. "

"I don't think so. I was summoned by telegraph from Paris. My father wasseized with a paralysis last week. He had just come up to town, and fora few days was dangerously ill, but is now slowly recovering. "

"Very sorry to hear of it. A man of his stamp would have been of immensevalue to the country. He had begun to take a very leading part in localmatters. I trust he will come round. "

"I fear he will never be the same again. I doubt if he will be able todirect his own affairs as he used. "

"That's bad! You are not in the business, I believe?"

"No; I never took any part in it. I almost regret I did not. It would, Iimagine, be a relief to my father, now that his mind is less clear, toknow that I was at the helm. But we have a capital man as manager, quitedevoted to the house. I shall get my father down to the country as soonas I can, and I trust he'll come round. "

"No doubt he will. He was wonderfully hale and strong for his years. "

"Ay! how d'ye do, Bertie?" interrupted the first speaker, holding outhis hand to a young man who came up from Hyde Park and seemed about topass with a smile and a nod. "Who would have thought of meeting you inthese godless regions? I hear you are busy 'slumming' from morning tillnight. "

"Well, Colonel, " returned Bertie--a slight, fair, boyish-looking man--"Iam so far false to my new vocation as to have lost some irrevocablemoments looking at the horses and horsewomen in the Row. "

"Aha! the old leaven, my dear boy! You are on the brink ofperdition. --Don't you know Bertie Payne?" he continued, to his newly metfriend. "He was one of my subs before he renounced the devil and all hisworks. He was with us at Barrackbore when you were in India. "

"I do not think we have met, " the other was beginning, when a younglady--toward whom the Colonel had already cast some sharp, admiringglances as she stood on the curbstone holding a hand of the smaller oftwo little boys in smart sailor suits--uttered a cry of dismay. Theelder child had rushed into the road, as if to stop a passing omnibus, not seeing that a hansom was coming up at speed. 

The young man called Bertie dashed forward, and barely succeeded insnatching the child from under the wheel. A scramble of horses' feet, animprecation or two shouted by the irritated driver, a noisy declarationfrom the "fare" that he should lose his train, and the scuffle was over. 

The little man, held firmly by the shoulder, was marched back to hisyoung guardian. 

"Thank you!--oh, thank you a thousand times! You have saved his life!"she exclaimed, fervently, in unsteady tones. Then to the child: "Howcould you break your promise to stay by me, Cecil? You would have beenkilled but for this gentleman!"

"I wanted to catch the 'omlibus' for you, auntie!" he cried, with anirrepressible sob, though he gallantly tried to hold back his tears. 

"Hope the little fellow is none the worse of his fright, " said theColonel, advancing and raising his hat. "Can I be of any use?--can Icall a cab?"

"No, thank you; I will take an omnibus and get home as soon as I can. Cecil will soon forget his fright, I fear--"

"Sooner than you will, " remarked Bertie. "There is a Royal Oak omnibus. Will that do?"

"Yes, thank you. "

"Come along, then, my young man; I will not let you go. "

Bertie put the trio into the vehicle, and the lookers-on saw that heshook hands with "auntie" as the conductor jumped on his perch and theyrolled on. 

"Gad! there's a chance for you!" cried the Colonel as Bertie joined him. "An uncommon fine girl, by George! What a coloring! and a splendid pairof black eyes!"

"I suspect extreme fright did a good deal for both, poor girl. Her eyesare brown, not black. "

"Brown! Nonsense! Didn't _you_ think they were black?"

"I did not observe them, " returned the grave personage he addressed, indifferently. "The boy had a narrow escape. I must say good morning, "he added. 

"Stop a bit, " cried the Colonel. "I must see you again before you leavetown. Dine with me to-morrow at the Junior. And, Bertie--"

"Thanks, no, I am engaged. " He said good-by and walked on. 

"Queer fellow that, " said the Colonel, looking after him. "He got intosome money troubles in India, left the army, and got converted. Now heis not exactly a Salvation soldier, but something of the kind. He'll beat you one of the days for a subscription to convert the crossingsweepers or some such undertaking. But you'll dine with me to-morrow. I'll tell you all the Clayshire gossip. "

"Thank you, I shall be very happy. "

"Then good-by for the present, I am engaged to lunch to meet one of theprettiest little widows you ever saw in your life, but she has no cash. Here, hansom, " calling to the driver of a cab which was passing slowly. "I am a little late. " He jumped in and drove off. 

His friend, with a slight grave smile, continued his walk to theAlexandria Hotel, the portals of which received him. 

Meantime the hero of the cab incident sat very demurely by his youngaunt, as the omnibus rolled slowly up Park Lane, occasionally stealinginquisitive glances at her face. 

"You have been a _very_ naughty boy, Cecil!" she exclaimed as her eyesmet his. "How could I have gone home to mamma if I had been obliged toleave you behind?"

"But you needn't, you know; you could have tied me up in a bundle andtaken me back. Mamma would have known it wasn't your fault. "

"I am not so sure of that, and you have made poor Charlie cry, "--drawingthe younger boy to her side. 

"Charlie is just a baby, " contemptuously. 

"He is a better boy than you are. " Silence. 

"Auntie, do you think the gentleman who pulled me back was the oldgentleman's son?"

"No, I do not think he was. "

"Why don't you, auntie?"

"I can hardly say why. "

"I have seen that gentleman--the old gentleman--in Kensington Gardens, "said little Charlie, nestling up to his aunt. "He spoke to mammy the dayshe took me to feed the ducks. "

"I think that is only a fancy, dear. "

"No; I am quite sure. "

"Oh, you are always fancying things; you are a silly, " cried Cecil, nowquite recovered, and turning to kneel upon the seat that he might lookout, thereby rubbing his feet on the very best "afternoon" dress of aseverely respectable female, whose rubicund face expressed "drat theboy!" as strongly as a face could. 

The rest of the journey was accomplished after the usual style of suchtravels when the aunt and nephews went out together. Cecil wasconstantly rebuked and made to sit down, and as constantly resumed hisfavorite position; so that he ultimately reached home with beautifullyclean shoes, having wiped "the dust off his feet" effectually on thegarments of his fellow-passengers, while his little brother nestled tohis auntie's side and gazed observantly on his fellow-travellers, arriving at curious conclusions respecting them, to be afterward setforth to the amusement of his hearers. 

Leaving the omnibus at the Royal Oak, the trio diverged to one of thestreets between that well-known establishment and the Bayswater Road--astreet which had still a few trees and small semi-detached villas, withfront gardens left at one end, the relics of a past when Penrhyn Placewas "quite the country"; while at the other, bricks, mortar, scaffolding, and a deeply rutted roadway indicated the commencement ofmansions which would soon swallow up their humbler predecessors. 

At one of these villas, the garden of which was tolerably neat, thelittle boys and their aunt stopped, and were admitted by a smart but notover-clean girl, who welcomed the children with a cheerful, "Well, Master Cecil, you are just in nice time for dinner! Come, get yourthings off; your gran'ma has a treat for you. "

"Has she? Oh, what is it? Do tell, Lottie!"

"Don't mind, dear, if you are tired; your morning-gown will do verywell, as we are alone. "

"No, no; I must honor Cecil's birthday with my best dress. These triflesare important. "

"I suppose so, " returned her daughter, looking after her gravely, as sheleft the room. 

Mrs. Liddell was tall, and the lines of her figure considerablyenlarged. Yet she had not quite lost the grace for which she was onceremarkable. Her light brown hair had a pale look from the increasingadmixture of gray, and her blue eyes seemed faded by much use. It was akind, thoughtful, worn face from which they looked, yet it could stillsmile brightly. 

"She looks very, very tired, " thought her daughter. "I must make her liedown if I can; it is so hard to make her rest!" She too looked uneasilyat the mass of writing on the table, and then went away to remove herout-door attire. 

The birthday dinner gave great satisfaction. It was crowned by aplum-pudding, terrible as such a compound must always be in June; but itwas a favorite "goody" with the young hero of the day. Grandmamma madeherself as agreeable as though she was one of a party of wits, and drankher grandson's health in a bottle of choice gooseberry, proposing it ina "neat and appropriate" speech, which gave rise to much uproariousmirth and delight. At last the feast was over; the children retired toamuse themselves with a horse and a wheelbarrow--some of the birthdaygifts--in the back garden (a wilderness resigned to their ravages), andMrs. Liddell and her daughter were left alone. 

"Now, mother, _do_ come and lie down on the sofa in the drawing-room. Isee you are out of sorts. You hardly tasted food, and you are dreadfullytired; come and rest. I will read you to sleep. "

"No, Kate; there can be no rest for me, my darling, " returned hermother, rising, and beginning to put the plates and glasses togetherwith a nervous movement. "I _am_ out of sorts, for I have had a greatdisappointment. _The Family Friend_ has refused my three-volume novel, and I really have not the heart to try it anywhere else after suchrepeated rejections. At the same time Skinner & Palm write to say theycannot use my short story, 'On the Rack, ' for five or six months, asthey have such a quantity of already accepted manuscripts. "

"How provoking!" cried Katherine. "But come away; the drawing-room iscooler; let us go there and talk things over. "

Mrs. Liddell accepted the suggestion, and sank into an arm-chair, whileher daughter let down the blinds, and then placed herself on a lowottoman opposite her. 

There was a short silence; then Mrs. Liddell sighed and began: "Icounted so much on that short story for ready money! Skinner always paysdirectly he has published. Now I do not know what to do. If I take itback I may fail to dispose of it, yet I cannot wait. But the novel--thatis the worst disappointment of all. I suppose it was foolish, but I felt_sure_ about that. "

"Of course you did, " cried Katherine, eagerly. "It is an excellentstory. "

"It is not worse than many Santley brings out, " resumed Mrs. Liddell;"but one is no judge of one's own work. It was with reluctance I offeredit to _The Family Friend_, and you see--" her voice faltered, and shestopped abruptly. 

Katherine knew the tears were in her eyes and swelling her heart. Sherestrained the impulse to throw her arms round her; she feared toagitate her mother; rather she would help her self-control. 

"Well, dear, I am no great judge, but I am quite sure that such a storyas yours must succeed sooner or later. So we will be patient. "

"Ah! but, Katie, the landlord and the butcher will not wait, and, mychild, I have only about five pounds. I made too sure of success for Idid so well last year. Then Madame de Corset will soon be sending in herbill for that famous dress of Ada's, and she will want the money shelent me. "

"Then Madame de Corset must wait, " said Katherine, firmly. "Ada isreally your debtor. Where could she live at so small a cost as with you?Where could she be so free to run about without a thought for thechildren? What has become of her? Couldn't she stay with Cecil on hisbirthday?"

"She is gone to luncheon with the Burnetts. It is as well to keep upwith them; their influence might be useful to the boys hereafter; but Ido wish I could pay her. "

"I wish you could, for it would make you happier; but she really owesyou ten pounds and more. "

"What shall I do about that novel? If I could get two hundred--even onehundred--pounds for it, I should do well. I began to hope I might makeboth ends meet with my pen. Oh, Katie dear, I am ashamed of myself, butfor the first time in my life I feel beaten. I feel as if I could notcome up to time again. It has been such a long, weary battle!" Shepressed her handkerchief to her eyes. 

"I wish _I_ could give you rest, darling mother!" said Katherine, takingher hand and fondling it. "I fear I have been too useless--toothoughtless. "

"You have done all you could, my child; one cannot expect much fromnineteen. But I wish--I wish I could think of any means of deliverancefrom my present difficulty. A small sum would suffice. Where to find itis the question. I counted too much on those unlucky manuscripts, andnow I do not know where to turn; I see a vista of debt. " A sudden fit ofcoughing interrupted her. 

"You have taken cold, mother, " cried Katherine. "I heard you coughingthis morning. I was sure you would suffer for sitting near the openwindow in the study last night. "

"It was so hot!" murmured Mrs. Liddell, lying back exhausted. 

"Yes, but it was also frightfully damp. Tell me, mother, is thereanything we can sell?--anything--"

Mrs. Liddell interrupted her. "Nothing, dear. The few jewels I hadpreserved went when I was trying to furnish this house. I fancied weshould do well in a house of our own, and I was so anxious to make ahome for my poor boy's widow!"

"When do you expect any more money?"

"Not for nearly two months, and then another quarter's rent will bedue. "

"Mother, " said Katherine, after a moment's silence, "would not myfather's brother, of whom I heard you speak, help you? It is dreadful toask, but he is so near a kinsman, and childless. "

"It is useless to think of it. He and your father quarrelled aboutmoney, and he is implacable. His only child, a son, opposed him, and hedrove him away. Poor fellow! he was killed in Australia. "

"Why have hard-hearted wretches heaps of money, while kind, generoussouls like you never have a farthing?"

"That is a mystery of long standing, " said Mrs. Liddell, with a faintsmile. "Katie, I cannot think or talk any more. I will go and lie downin my own room. There neither Ada nor the children can disturb me. Oh, my darling, how can I ever die in peace if I leave _you_ to do battlewith the bitter, bitter world unprovided for?" Her voice quivered, andthe hand she laid on her daughter's trembled. 

"Do not fear for me, mother. I am tougher and more selfish than you are. It is time I worked for you. How feverish you are! Come up to your ownroom. You will see things differently when you have had a little sleep. If the worst comes, _I_ will tell Ada that we must give up the house andgo back to lodgings. We never had difficulties before we came here. "

"No, for we never had debts. Now I have, and I have this house fornearly three years longer. It is not so easy to shake off engagements asyou would a cloak that had grown too heavy. "

So saying, Mrs. Liddell rose and ascended to the room she shared withher daughter, whom she allowed to take off her dress and put on herwrapper, to arrange her pillows, to bathe her brow in eau-de-cologne andwater, and soothe her with those loving touches, those tender cares, that the heart alone can prompt, till in spite of the cloud and thickdarkness that hid her future, Mrs. Liddell was calmed by the delicioussense of her daughter's love and sympathy. 

"I will make a list of editors, " said Katherine--"I mean those whom youhave not tried--and go round to them myself. Perhaps I may bring youluck. "

"Yes; your young life is more likely to have fortune on its side: thefickle jade has forsaken me. "

Katherine made no reply beyond a gentle kiss. She sat silently by hermother's side, till feeling the hand that held hers relax its hold, sheslowly and softly withdrew her own, comforted to perceive that balmysleep had stolen upon the weary woman. 

Still she sat there thinking with all the force of her young brain, partly remembering, partly anticipating. 

Of her father she had scarce any knowledge. She was but four years oldwhen he died, and her only brother was nearly fourteen. The eldest andyoungest of Mrs. Liddell's children were the survivors of several. 

Katherine's memory of her childish days presented the dim picture of aquaint foreign town; of blue skies, bright sunshine, and abundantvegetation; of large rooms and a smiling black-eyed attendant in apeculiar head-dress; of some one lying back in a large chair, near whomshe must never make a noise. Then came a change; mother always in black, with a white cap, and often weeping, and of colder winters, snow andskating--a happy time, for she was always with mother both in lesson andplay time, whilst Fred used to go away early to school. Next, clear anddistinct, was the recollection of her first visit to London, and fromthis time she was the companion and confidante of her mother. They werepoor--at least every outlay had to be carefully considered--but Katienever knew the want of money. Then came the excitement and preparationattending Fred's departure for India, the mixture of sorrow andsatisfaction with which her mother parted from him, of how bitterly shehad cried herself; for though somewhat tyrannical, Fred had been alwayskind and generous. 

How well she remembered the day he had left them never to return--howher mother had clasped her to her heart and exclaimed: "You must be allin all to me now, Katie. I have done but little for you yet, dear, Fredneeded so much. "

A spell of happy, busy life in Germany followed, enlivened by longletters from the young Indian officer, whose career seemed full ofpromise. But when Katherine was a little more than thirteen sorrow fellupon them. Fred's letters had become irregular; then came a confessionof weakness and debt, crowned by the supreme folly of marriage, concluding with a prayer for help. 

Mrs. Liddell was cruelly disappointed. She had hoped and expected muchfrom her boy. She believed he was doing so well! She told all to Katie, who heartily agreed with her that Fred must be helped. Some of theirslender capital was sold out and sent to him, while mother and daughtercheerfully accepted the loss of many trifling indulgences, drawing thenarrow limits of their expenditure closer still, content and free fromdebt, though as time went on Katherine cast many a longing glance at theworld of social enjoyment in which their poverty forbade her to triumph. 

Mrs. Liddell had always loved literature, and her husband had been anaccomplished though a reckless and self-indulgent man. She had wandereda good deal with him, and had seen a great variety of people and places. It occurred to her to try her pen as a means of adding to her income, and after some failures she succeeded with one or two of the smallerweekly periodicals. This induced her to return to London, hoping to dobetter in that great centre of work. Here the tidings of her son's deathoverwhelmed her. Next came an imploring letter from the young widow, whohad no near relatives, praying to be allowed to live with her andKatherine--sharing expenses--as the pension to which an officer's widowand orphans were entitled insured her a small provision. 

So Mrs. Liddell again roused herself, and managed to furnish veryscantily the little home where Katherine sat thinking. But the additionto their income was but meagre compared to the expenses which followedin the train of Mrs Frederic Liddell and her two "little Indian boys. "

All the efforts of the practical mother and daughter did not suffice tokeep within the limits they dreaded to overpass. Mrs. Liddell's penbecame more than ever essential to the maintenance of the household, while the younger widow considered herself a martyr to the most sordid, the most unnecessary stinginess. 

A tapping at the door and suppressed childish laughter called Katherinefrom her thoughts. She rose and opened the door quickly and softly. 

"Hush, Cecil! be quiet, Charlie! poor grannie is asleep. Come with medownstairs; I will read to you if you like. "

"Oh yes, do, " said Charlie. 

"I don't care for reading, " cried Cecil. "Can't you play bears?"

"It makes too much noise. I will play it to-morrow if grandmamma isbetter. Shall I tell you a story?"

"No, " said Cecil; "_I_ will tell _you_ one. "

"Very well. I shall be delighted to hear it. "

"I would rather have you read, auntie, " said the little one. 

"Never mind, Charlie; I will read to you after. "

"Shall we sit in the garden? We have made it quite clean and tidy. "

"No, dear; grannie would hear us there. Come into the dining-room. "

Established there, the boys one on each side of her, Katherine listenedto the young story-teller, who began fluently: "There was once twolittle boys called Jimmie and Frank. Frank was the biggest; he was verystrong and very courageous; and he learned his lessons very well when heliked, but he did not always like. The two little boys had an aunt; shewas nice and pleasant sometimes, but more times she was cross anddisagreeable, and she spoiled Jimmie a great deal. One day they went outto walk a long way, and saw lots of people riding, and Jimmmie grewtired, and so did Frank, but Frank would not complain, and their auntwas so unkind that she would not call a hansom; so when they came to agreat street Frank thought he would catch an omnibus, and he ran outquick--quick. He would have caught it, but his aunt was so silly andsuch a coward that she sent a man after him, who nearly dragged himunder the feet of a horse that was coming up, and they would both havebeen killed if Frank had not called out to the cabman to stop. "

"Oh, Cecil, that is you and I. _What_ a story! Auntie is not unkind, andyou did not call out, " cried Charlie. 

Katherine could not help laughing at the little monkey's version of theincident. 

"Cecil, Cecil, you must learn to tell the truth--" she was beginning, when the door was opened, and a small, slight lady in black silk, with aprofusion of delicate gray ribbons, jet trimming, and foamy white tulleruching, stood in the doorway. She was very fair, with light eyes, asoft pink color, and pale golden brown hair--altogether daintily pretty. 

"Oh, mammy! mammy! where have you been all my birthday?" cried the elderboy, rushing to her. 

"My own precious darling, do not put your dear dirty little paws on mydress!" she exclaimed, in alarm. "I was _obliged_ to go, my boy; but Ihave brought you a bag of sweets; it is in the hall. Dear me! how stuffythis room is! Mrs. Burnett's house is _so_ cool and fresh! It looks intoa charming garden at the back; and oh, how delightful it must be to berich!" She had advanced into the room as she spoke, and began to untieand smooth out her bonnet strings. 

"It must indeed, " returned Katherine, with a deep sigh. 

"I will go and put on an old dress; this one is too pretty to spoil, andthe house is _so_ dusty. Do you think it becoming, Katherine?"

"Yes, very"--with an indulgent smile. "You ought always to wearhalf-mourning; it suits you admirably. "

"I think it does; but I must put it off some day, you know. Cecil dear, go and ask cook to make me a cup of tea. I will have it up in my room. Charlie, don't cuddle up against your aunt in that way; it makes her toohot, and you will grow crooked. " Charlie jumped down from his chair andheld up his face. 

"There, dear, " giving a hasty kiss. "Don't worry. "

"Mammy, " said Cecil, with much solemnity, "I was nearly killed to-day. "

"Nonsense, dear! This is one of your wonderful inventions. What does hemean, Katherine?"

"He might have been. He darted from me at Hyde Park Corner, intending tocatch an omnibus, and would have been run over if a gentleman had notsnatched him from under the horses' feet. "

"My precious boy!" laying her hand on his head, but keeping him at adistance. "How wrong of you, Katherine, to let his hand go!"

"I did not let it go; I was not holding it, " returned Katherine, dryly. 

"At Hyde Park Corner?" pursued Mrs. Frederic Liddell, eagerly. "Was thegentleman soldierly and stout, with gray mustaches?"

"No. He was young and slight and clean-shaved. "

"That is curious; for Colonel Ormonde was saying at luncheon to-day thathe had saved, or helped to save, such a pretty little boy from being runover. I don't exactly remember what he said. I was listening to Mrs. DeVere Hopkins, and Mrs. Burnett's boy was making a noise. Colonel Ormondesaid he was just like a little fellow he had seen nearly run over thatmorning. I am sure Tom Burnett is not half as handsome as my Cecil. "

"I should not have been run over if auntie had left me alone. "

"Go and get mother's tea, and you, Charlie, fetch her some nice breadand butter, " said Katherine, who, though six or seven years hersister-in-law's junior, looked at first sight older. "There _was_ anelderly gentleman such as you describe, talking with the young man whorescued Cecil, and he was very polite and interested in Cecil, who brokeaway from me, though he had promised to stay by my side. "

"Promised, " repeated Mrs. Frederic, lightly, and carefully dusting herbonnet with her handkerchief. "What can you expect from a child'spromise? But poor Cecil rarely does right in your eyes. "

"Nonsense, Ada!"

"Not at all. I am very observant. But tell me, did Colonel Ormonde takemuch notice of Cecil?"

"I do not know. I was too much frightened to see anything but the dearchild himself. "

Mrs. Frederic did not reply for a moment; she seemed to be thinkingdeeply. "Where did you get those flowers--those you bought on Saturdayfor sixpence?"

"Oh! at the little florist's on Queen's Road. It was late in theevening, you know, or they would not have been so cheap. "

"I should like some to-morrow to make the drawing-room look pretty, ifpossible, for Colonel Ormonde said he would call. He wishes to see someof my Otocammed photographs. Heigho! it is a miserable place to receiveany one in. "

"Well, you see, it must do. "

"Really, Katherine, you are very unsympathetic. If you have a fault, dear, it is selfishness. You don't mind my saying so?"

"Oh, not at all. I am thankful for the 'if. '"

"Where is your mother?"

"Lying down. She is tired, and has a horrid headache. "

"I'm sure I don't wonder at it, toiling from morning till night forthose wretched papers. I was telling Mrs. Burnett to-day that mymother-in-law was an authoress, but when I mentioned that she wrote for_The Family Friend_ and _The Cheerful Visitor_, Lady Everton, who writesin _The Court Journal_ and various grand things of that kind, said theywere quite low publications, and never got higher than the servants'hall. "

"You need not have gone into particulars, Ada. Whether my mother writeswell or ill, the pressure on her is too great to allow of her picking orchoosing; she must catch at the quickest market. "

"I'm sure it is a great pity. That is the reason I stay on here, and letyou teach Cis and Charlie, though Colonel Ormonde says the sooner boysare out of a woman's hands the better. "

"If Colonel Ormonde is the old man I saw this morning, he looks morecapable of judging a dinner than what is the best training for youth. "

"Old!" screamed the pretty widow. "He is not old; he is only mature. Heis very well off, too. He has a place in the country. And as tomentioning those papers, I know nothing of such things. _The NineteenthCentury_, or _Bow Bells_, or _The Family Friend_, they are all the sameto me. Only I am sure such a nice lady-like woman as Mrs. Liddell shouldnot write for the servants' hall. She must have been so handsome, too!Fred, poor fellow, was her image. You will never be so good-looking, Kate. "

"No, I don't suppose I shall, " returned Katherine, with much equanimity. 

"Are there any letters for me?" asked Mrs. Frederic, looking round asshe lifted her bonnet from the table. 

"Here are two. "

"Ah! this is from Harry Vigors. I suppose he is coming home. And oh!this is Madame de Corset's bill"--putting down her bonnet and openingit. "Eleven pounds seventeen and ninepence-half-penny. Why, this isabominable! She promised it should not be much more than ten pounds. There is five per cent off for ready money. Oh, I'll pay it immediately. How much will that be altogether, Kate? Eleven shillings? Well, that isworth saving. It will buy me two pairs of gloves. Now I'll go and rest. Tell me when Mrs. Liddell is awake. "

CHAPTER II. 

BREAKING NEW GROUND. 

Katherine took care that her sister-in-law should not have anopportunity of private conversation with Mrs. Liddell, that evening atleast. 

She rolled up and arranged the disordered manuscripts, putting the smallstudy in order, and locking away the rejected tales. Then she proposedconducting the young widow to the florist's, as the evening grew cooler, and made herself agreeable by listening attentively to the littlewoman's description of the luncheon party, and her repetition of all thepretty things said to her by the various gentlemen present, especiallyby Colonel Ormonde. 

"Of course I do not mind their nonsense, but however my heart may clingto dear Fred's memory, I must think of my precious boys, " was herconclusion. To which Katherine answered, "Of course, " as she would haveanswered any proposition, however wild, provided only she could save hermother from worry, at least for that evening. 

Next day was showery and dull. True to her resolution, Katherine put hermother's lucubrations into their covers, and prepared to start on herprojected round. 

"I am not sure I ought to let you go, Katie dear, " said Mrs. Liddell, as her daughter came into the study in her out-door dress. "It is rathera wild goose chase. Why should you succeed for me when I have failed formyself? Besides, personal interviews are of no avail. No editor willtake work that does not suit him, however interesting the applicant. "

"Nevertheless I will go. I shall bring a new element into the business, and I _may_ be lucky! Why have you plunged into these horrid accounts?"pointing to a pile of small books, and a sheaf of backs of lettersscribbled over with calculations. "This is not the way to cheeryourself. "

"My love, it is a change of occupation, at least, to revert to the oldyet ever new problem of life--how to extract thirty shillings from asovereign. I am trying to see where we can possibly retrench. What isAda doing?"

"She is decking the drawing-room and herself for the reception ofColonel Ormonde, who is coming to afternoon tea. "

"What, already?"

"She is quite excited, I assure you. Is it not soon to think of----"

"Do not judge her harshly. She is a woman not made to live alone. In duetime I shall be glad to see her happily married, for she _will_ marry. "

"Tell me, is that irreconcilable uncle of mine really still alive? Howlong is it since you heard anything of him?"

"Oh, more than six or seven years. But I am sure he is alive. I shouldhave heard of his death. I suppose he is still living on in CamdenTown. "

"Not a very agreeable quarter, " returned Katherine, carelessly. "Good-by, mother dear! Do not expect me to dinner. I can have somethingwhenever I come in. "

Katherine walked briskly toward town, intending to save some of heromnibus fare, for she had planned a long and daring expedition--anundertaking which taxed all her courage. In truth, though she had neverknown the ease or luxury of wealth, she had been most tenderly broughtup. Her mother had constantly shielded her from all the roughness oflife, and the deed she contemplated seemed to her mind an almostdesperate effort of independent action. 

Through one of the very few sleepless nights she had ever experiencedshe had thought out an idea which had flashed through her brain whileMrs. Liddell was explaining her difficulties, and which she hadcarefully kept to herself. 

She saw clearly enough the hopelessness of their position; probably withthe intensity of youth she exaggerated it, which was scarcely necessary, as a small rut is apt to widen into a bottomless pit if it crosses thepath of those who are living up to the utmost verge of a narrow income. As she reviewed the endless instances of her mother's self-abnegationwhich memory supplied--her cheerful industry, her brave struggle to livelike a gentlewoman on a pittance, her tender thought for the welfare andhappiness of her children--she felt she could walk through a burningfiery furnace if by so doing she could earn ease and repose for hermother's weary spirit. 

"She is looking ill and worn, " thought Katherine, "and years older. Shehas never been the same since that attack of bronchitis last year. Adaand the boys are too much for her, though they are dear little fellows;but they are costly. If Ada would even give us twenty pounds a year moreit would be a great help. "

The project Katherine had evolved through the night-watches was to visither uncle and ask him, face to face, for help! It is, she argued, harderto say "no" than to write it; even if she failed she should know herfate at once, and not have to endure the agony of waiting for a letter. Nor, were she refused, need her mother ever know now she had humiliatedherself in the dust. 

How her young heart sank within her at the thought of being harshly, contemptuously rejected! It was a positive painful physical sense offaintness that made her limbs tremble as she pressed on faster than shewas aware. "But I _will_ do it--I will! If I succeed no humiliation willbe too great, " she said to herself. "I will speak with all my soul! WhenI begin, this horrible feeling that my tongue is dry and speechless willgo away. I must find out where this awful old man is; what is his streetand number. I dared not ask mother. First I will try the publisher; asthe 'servants' hall' publications have rejected it, I shall offer_Darrell's Doom_ to a first-rate house. Why not try Channing & Wyndham?They cannot say worse than 'no, ' and I shall no doubt see a Directorythere. " Thus communing with herself, she took an omnibus down Park Laneand walked thence to the well-known temple of the Muses in Piccadilly. 

Arrived there, a civil clerk took her card--which was her mother's--andsoon returning, asked if she had an appointment. "No, I have not, butpray ask Mr. Channing or Mr. Wyndham to see me; I will not stay morethan a few minutes. " The young man smiled slightly; he was accustomed tosuch assurances. Almost as Katherine spoke, a stout "country gentleman"looking person came into the warehouse, slightly raising his hat as hepassed her. A sudden inspiration prompted her to say, "Pray excuse me, but are you Mr. Wyndham?"

"I am. "

"Then do let me speak to you for five minutes. "

"With pleasure, " said the great publisher, graciously, and ushered herinto a sort of literary loose box or small enclosure in the remoteback-ground. 

"I have ventured to bring you a manuscript, " began Katherine, smilingwith all her might, with an abject desire to propitiate the arbiter ofher mother's fate. 

"So I see, " he returned, ruefully but politely. 

"It is a beautiful story, and I thought it ought to be published by agreat house like yours, " pursued Katherine. 

"Thank you, " he said, with a twinkle in his eye. "Pray is it your own?"

"Mine! Oh dear no! It is my mother's. She is not very strong, so _I_brought it. "

There was a slight faltering in her voice that suggested a good deal toher hearer. "Then you are not Mrs. W. Liddell, " glancing at the card, "but Mrs. Liddell's daughter. Pray put down that heavy parcel. Threevolumes, I suppose?"

"Yes, three volumes, but they are not very long, and the story is mostinteresting. "

"No doubt. I hope it is not historical?"

"Oh no! quite modern. "

"So much the better. Well, Miss Liddell, I will look at the manuscript, or rather our reader shall, and let you know the result in due course;but I must warn you that we are rather overdone with three-volumenovels, and there are already a large number of manuscripts awaitingperusal, so you must not expect our verdict for some little time. "

"When you will, but oh! as soon as you can, " she urged. 

"I will keep your address, and you shall hear at the earliest date wecan manage. Good-morning. Very damp, uncomfortable day. "

Katherine felt herself dismissed, and almost forgot her ulteriorintention. "Would you be so very good as to let me look at theDirectory, if you have one?"

"Certainly, " said Wyndham, who was slipping the card under the string ofpoor Katherine's parcel. "Here, Tompkins, let this young lady see theDirectory. Excuse me--I am a good deal pressed for time;" and with a bowhe went off, the manuscript under his arm. 

"Well, it is really in his hands, at all events, " thought Katherine, looking wistfully after it. 

A boy with inky hands here placed that thick volume, the Post-OfficeDirectory, before her, and she proceeded to search confusedly among theendless pages of names, a little strengthened and cheered by her briefinterview with the publisher. It seemed that she was in a lucky vein:trouble is always conducive to superstition. When visible hope fails, poor human hearts turn to the invisible and the improbable. 

At last she paused at "John Wilmot Liddell, 27 Legrave Crescent, CamdenTown, N. W. " That must be her uncle; they were all Wilmot Liddells. Howto reach his abode was the question. 

The inky boy soon gave her the requisite information. "You take aWaterloo 'bus at Piccadilly Circus; it runs through to Camden Town; thatis, to the beginning of Camden Town, " he said. Katherine thanked him, and again set forth. 

It was a long, tedious drive. The omnibus was crammed with warmpassengers and damp umbrellas, but Katherine was too racked withimpatience and fear to heed small discomforts. Would her dreadedrelative order her out of his sight at once? Was her interview with thepublisher a good omen?

At last she reached the end of her journey, and addressing herself tothe tutelary policeman solemnly pacing past the Tavern where the omnibuspaused, she asked to be directed to Legrave Crescent. 

It was an old-fashioned row of houses, before them a few sooty trees ina half-moon of grass, one side railed off from the street and dignifiedwith gates at either end--gates which were always open. 

The place had a still, deserted air, but about the middle stood a cab, on which a rheumatic driver, assisted by a small boy, was placing acumbrous box. As Katherine approached she found that the house beforewhich it stood bore the number she sought, and on reaching it she foundthe door held open by a little smutty girl, the very lowest type ofslavey, with unkempt hair, and a rough holland apron of the grimiestaspect. On the top step stood a stout woman, fairly well dressed in alarge shawl and a straw bonnet largely decorated with crushed artificialflowers; a very red, angry face appeared beneath it, with watery eyesand a coarse, half-open mouth. All this Katherine saw, but hardlyobserved, so strongly was her attention attracted to a figure that stooda few paces within the entrance--a tall, thin old man, bent and leaningon a stick. He was wrapped in a long dressing-gown of dull dark gray, evidently much worn; slippers were on his feet, and a black velvetskull-cap on his head, from under which some thin straggling locks ofwhite hair escaped. His thin aquiline features and dark sunken eyes werealight with an expression of malignant fury; one long claw-like hand wasoutstretched with a gesture of dismissal, the other grasped the top ofhis stick. "Begone, you accursed drunken thief!" he was almost screamingin a shrill voice. "I would take you to the police, court if there wasanything to be got out of you; but it would only be throwing good moneyaway after bad. Get you gone to the ditch where you'll die! Youguzzling, muzzling fool, to leave my house without a shilling after allyour pilfering!"

While he uttered these words with frightful vehemence, the woman headdressed kept up a rapid undercurrent of reply. 

"Living with a miserable screwy miser like you would make a saint drink!Do you think people will serve you for nothing, and not pay themselvessomehow? The likes of you are born to be robbed--and may your last crustbe stole from you, you old skinflint!" With this last defiance, sheturned and threw herself hastily into the cab, which crawled away as ifhorse and driver were equally rheumatic. 

"Shut the door, " said the old man, hoarsely, as if exhausted. 

"Please, sir, there's a lady here, " said the little slavey. Katherine, who was as frightened as if she were face to face with a lunatic, had aterrible conviction that this appalling old man was her uncle. Howshould she ever address him? What an unfortunate time to have fallenupon!

"What do you want?" asked the old man, fiercely, frowning till hisshaggy white eyebrows almost met over his angry black eyes. 

"I want to see Mr. John Wilmot Liddell. "

"Then you see him! Who are you?"

"Katherine Liddell, your niece. "

"My niece!" with inexpressible contempt and disbelief, "Well, niece ornot, you may serve a turn. Can you read?"

"Yes, of course. "

"Come, then--come in. " He turned and walked with some difficulty to thedoor of the front parlor. Half bewildered, Katherine followedmechanically, and the small servant shut the front door, putting up thechain with a good deal of noise. 

The room to which Katherine was so unceremoniously introduced was ofgood size, covered with a carpet of which no pattern and very littlecolor were left. The furniture was old-fashioned and solid; adining-table covered with faded green baize was in the middle, and awriting-table with several drawers was placed near the fireplace, besidewhich stood a high-backed leather arm-chair, old, worn, dirty. Awretched fire was dying out in the grate, almost choked by the red ashesof the very cheapest coal. 

An odor of dust long undisturbed pervaded the atmosphere, and the dulldamp weather without added to the extreme gloom. Indeed the door of thisapartment might well have borne Dante's inscription over the entrance toa warmer place. 

Mr. Liddell went with feeble rapidity across to where a large newspaperlay upon the floor, and resting one hand on the writing-table, stoopedpainfully to raise it. 

"There! read--read the price-list to me. I am blind and helpless, forthat jade has hid my glasses. I know she has. I cannot find themanywhere, and I _must_ know how Turkish bonds are going. Read to me. I'll hear what you have to say after. " He thrust the paper into herhand, and sat down in the high-backed chair. 

Poor Katherine felt almost dazed. She took a seat at the other side ofthe table, and began to look for the mysterious list. The geography ofthe mighty _Times_ was unknown to her, and even in her mother's humblerpenny paper the City article was a portion she never glanced at. Whileshe turned the wide pages, painfully bewildered, the old man "glowered"at her. 

"I don't think you know what you are looking for, " he cried, impatiently. 

"I do not indeed! If you will show it to me----"

He snatched it from her, and pointed out the part he wished to hear. "Read from the beginning, " he said. 

Katherine obeyed, her courage returning as she found herself thusstrangely installed within the fortress she feared to attack. Shestumbled occasionally, and was sharply set upon her feet, in the matterof figures, by her eager hearer. At last she came to Turkish six percents. 

"Eighty-seven to eighty-eight and a quarter. "

"Ha!" muttered the old man, "that's an advance! good! nothing to be donethere yet. Now read the railway stocks. "

Katherine obeyed. When she came to "Florida and Teche debentures, sixty-two and a half to sixty-five and three-fourths, " she was startledby a sort of shrill shout. "Ay! _that's_ a rise! Some rigging designthere! I must write--I must. Where, where has that----harridan hid myglasses? Why, it is almost twelve o'clock! the boy will be here for thepaper immediately. And the post! the post! I must catch the post. Canyou write?"

"Oh yes! Shall I write for you?"

"You shall! you shall! here's paper"--rising and opening an ancientblotting-book, its covers all scribbled over with tiny figures, theresult of much calculating, he hastily set forth writing materials, hislean, claw-like, dirty hands trembling with eagerness. "Hear, hear, write fast. "

Katherine, growing a little clearer, and amazed at her own increasingself-possession, drew off her gloves, and taking the rusty pen offeredher, wrote at his dictation:

"_To Messrs. Rogers & Stokes, Corbett Court, E. C. _:

"GENTLEMEN, --Sell all my Florida shares if possible to-day, even if they decline a quarter. 

"I am yours faithfully--"

"Now let me come there!" he exclaimed. "I'll let no one sign my name. I'll manage that. There? there! Direct an envelope. Oh Lord! I haven't astamp--not one! and its ten minutes' walk to the post-office. "

"I think--I believe I have a stamp, " said Katherine, drawing her slenderpurse from her pocket and opening it. 

"Have you?" eagerly. "Give it to me. Stick it on! Go! go! There is apillar just outside the left-hand gate there; and mind you come back. Iwill give you a penny. Ah, yes, you shall have your penny?"

"I hope you will hear me when I return, " she said, appealingly, as sheleft the room. 

"Ay, ay; but go--go now. "

When Katherine returned she found the old man, with the half-opened doorin his hand, waiting for her. 

"Were you in time?" he asked, eagerly. 

"Oh yes, quite. I saw the postman coming across the road to empty thebox as I was dropping the letter in. "

"That's well. I will rest a bit now, and you can tell me what youplease. First, what have you come here for?"

It was an appalling question, and nothing but the simple truth occurredto her as an answer. Indeed, some irresistible power seemed to compelthe reply, spoken very low and distinct, "I came here to beg. "

The old man burst into a singularly unpleasant laugh. "Well, I likecandor. Pray what business have you to beg from me?"

"Because I know no one else to turn to--because, you are so near akinsman. Let me tell you about my mother. " Simply and shortly she gavethe history of their life and struggles, of the coming of her brother'syoung widow and orphans, of the disappointment of her mother's literaryexpectations, of the present necessity. The quiver in her young voice, the pathetic earnestness with which she told her story, the deep lovefor her mother breathing through the recital, might well have moved aheart of ordinary coldness, but it seemed to small impression on hergrim uncle. 

"You come of a wasteful extravagant lot, " he said, faintly, "if you arewhat you represent yourself to be--of which there is no proof whatever. How do I know you are the daughter of Frederic Liddell?"

This was an objection Katherine had never anticipated, and knew not howto meet. She colored vividly and hesitated; then, struck with theghastly pallor of the old man's face, she exclaimed, "You are ill! youare fainting!" drawing near him as she spoke. 

"I am not ill, " he gasped. "I am weak from want of food. I have tastednone since yesterday afternoon. "

"Will you not order some?" said Katherine, looking round for a bell. 

"There is nothing in the house. That drunken robber I have just drivenout went off to her revels last night and left me without anything; butwhile she was away a tradesman came with a bill I thought was paid, andso I discovered all her iniquity. "

"You must have something, " cried Katherine, seriously alarmed. "Can Iget you some wine or brandy?" and she rang hastily. 

Mr. Liddell drew a bunch of keys from his trousers pocket, and feeblyselecting one, put it in her hand, pointing to the sideboard. 

The first cellaret Katherine opened was quite empty, the opposite oneheld two empty bottles covered with dust, and another, at the bottom ofwhich was about a wineglass of brandy. She sought eagerly for and founda glass, and brought it to the fainting man, pouring out a smallquantity, which he sipped readily enough. "Ah!" he said, "I was nearlygone. I must eat. I suppose that wretched brat can cook something. Ringagain. " Katherine rang, and rang, but in vain. 

"May I go down and see what has become of her?"

"If you please, " he murmured, more civilly than he had yet spoken. 

Katherine, with increasing surprise and interest, descended the dingystair and entered a chaotic kitchen. 

Such a scene of dirt and confusion she had never beheld. Nothing seemedfit to touch. The little girl's rough apron lay on the floor in themidst, and she herself was tying on a big bonnet, while a small bundlelay on a chair beside her. She started and colored when Katherine stoodin the doorway. "Mr. Liddell has sent me to look for you. He is veryill. Why did you not answer the bell?"

"Because I was going away to mother, " cried the girl, bursting intotears. "I could not stay here by myself. Mr. Liddell is more like a wildbeast than a man when he is angry, and I have had a night and a day aswould frighten a policemen. I can't stay--I can't indeed, miss. "

"But you _must_, " said Katherine, impressively. "I am Mr. Liddell'sniece, and at least you must do a few things for me before you go. "

"Oh! if you are here, miss, I don't mind. I can't think as how you areMr. Liddell's niece. "

"I am, and I must not leave him till he is better. What is your name?"

"Susan, ma'am. "

"Well, Susan, is there any bread or anything in the larder?"

"Not a blessed scrap, miss, and I _am_ so hungry"--a fresh burst oftears. 

"Don't cry. Do as I bid you, and then you had better ask your mother tocome here. Now get me some fresh water. "

"There's only water in the tap; the filterer is broke. "

"Well, give me a jugful. And are you too hungry to make up the fire?"

"I'll manage that, 'm; we had a hundred of coal in yesterday morningbefore the row. "

"Then clear away the ashes and get as clear a fire as you can. I willget some food. "

The desperate, deserted condition of the old man seemed to rob him ofhis terrors, and all Katherine's energy was roused to save him from theill effects of his own fury. She hastened back to the dining-room. Mr. Liddell was sitting up, grasping the arms of his chair. 

"There is nothing downstairs. Will you allow me to go and buy you somefood? You will be ill unless you eat. "

"Can't that child fetch what is needful?" he said, with an effort. 

"I am afraid she may not return. "

"Then you had better go. I'll open the door to you when you come back. "

"I will go at once. But you must give me a little money. I would gladlypay for the things, but I have only my omnibus fare back. "

"How much do you want?" he returned, drawing forth an old worn greenporte-monnaie. 

"If you will be satisfied with a chop, two shillings will get all youwant, " said Katherine. 

"There, then; bring me the change and account, " he returned, handing herthe required sum. 

Since her mother had become a housekeeper Katherine had done a good dealof the marketing and household management, and had put her heart intoher work, as was natural to her. She therefore felt quite competent tomake these small purchases. 

"You will want a little more wine or something, " she ventured tosuggest. 

"I have plenty--plenty. Make haste!"

Katherine called the little girl, told her she was going out, andpromised to bring her back some food. Then she sped on her way to someshops she had noticed on her way, and soon accomplished her errand. Thisnecessity for action put her right with herself, and gave her thecourage she needed. With a word to the fainting old miser, she descendedto the chaotic kitchen, where she rejoiced the heart of the small slaveyby the sight of the cold beef and bread she had brought for her. Thenshe set to work to cook the chops she had purchased. This done, to theamazement of the little servant, she looked in vain for a cloth tospread upon the only battered tray she could find. She was obliged to becontent with dusting it and placing the result of her cooking betweentwo warm plates thereupon. Then she carried the whole up to her starvingrelative. Mr. Liddell had fallen into a doze from exhaustion, and lookedquite wolfish when, rousing up, his eyes fell upon the sorely neededfood. 

"You have been quick, but it is surely wasteful to cook _two_ chops. "

"You will not find them too much, I hope. I am sure you ought to eatboth. "

"I do not know, but the meat is good. " He fell to and ate with relish. Katherine asked where she could find some wine for him. He againproduced his keys, selected one, and told her to open a door at the endof the room, which she fancied led into another. It was a cupboard, plentifully filled with bottles of various descriptions, from amongwhich, by her patient's direction, she selected one labelled cognac, andgave him some in water. 

Katherine sat down and watched the old man demolish both chops withevident enjoyment. Then he paused, drank a little brandy and water, anddrew over the plate containing the butter, and smelled it verydeliberately. 

"You have extravagant ways, I am afraid, " he said. "This is freshbutter. "

"That piece only cost fourpence-halfpenny, " she said, gravely, "and thelittle you eat you had better have good. "

"Fourpence-halfpenny!" he repeated, and fell into profound meditation, from which he broke with a sudden return of anger. "What a double-dyedvillain and robber that infernal woman has been! She told me that priceshad risen to such a height that the commonest salt butter waseighteenpence a pound, that every chop was a shilling, that--that--"Then breaking off, with an air of the deepest pathos he exclaimed:"Thirty shillings a week I gave her to keep the house, and she has leftthe butcher unpaid for six months. But _I_ will not pay him. He shallsuffer. Why did he trust her? What did you pay for these things?" heended, abruptly, in a high key. 

Katherine silently handed him the back of a letter on which she hadscribbled down the items. 

"What is the use of showing me this, when I cannot read--when I have noglasses?" he exclaimed, impatiently. 

"True. I must try and find them for you. Where did you first miss them?"

"Oh, I don't know. I had them on when I went to see that----woman outof the house. "

Calling Susan to assist in the search, Katherine looked carefully in thehall, but in vain, when her young assistant gave a cry of joy; she hadalmost trodden on them as they lay between a mangy mat and the foot ofthe stairs. 

The recovery of his precious glasses did more to soothe the ruffledspirit of the recluse than anything else. He wiped them tenderly, andlooking through them, observed that they were all right. Then he sat inprofound silence, while Susan, under Katherine's directions, cleared upthe hearth, and removed the heap of dust and ashes which had nearly putout the fire. When she had retired, carrying off the tray, Mr. Liddellturned his keen eyes on his young visitor, and said:

"You came in the nick of time, and you seem to know what you are about;but I dare say I should have pulled through without you. Now about yourstory. Before anything else I must be assured that you are reallyFrederic Liddell's daughter. Not that your being so gives you thesmallest claim upon me. "

"I suppose it does not, " returned Katherine, sadly. "Still, if you couldhelp us with a loan at this trying time it might be the saving of ourfortunes, and both my mother and myself would do our best to repay you. "

"That's but indifferent security, " said the miser with a sardonic grin. 

"I feel sure that my mother's novel will succeed. It is a beautifulstory--and you know how some of the best books have been rejected--andwhen it is taken they will give her at least a hundred pounds for it!"cried Katherine, eagerly. 

"Good Lord! a hundred pounds for trashy scribblings. "

"They are not trash, sir, " returned Katherine, with spirit. 

"And what sum do you want on this first-class security?" he asked. 

"Oh, thirty or forty pounds!" she said, her heart beating with wildanxiety. 

"Thirty pounds! Why, that is a fortune!"

"It would be to us, " said Katherine, fighting bravely against adesperate inclination to cry. 

"And all you have to offer in exchange is a mortgage on an unpublishednovel?"

"We have nothing in the world but the furniture, " she replied, with aslight sob. 

"Furniture!" repeated Mr. Liddell, sharply. "How much?--how many roomshave you?"

"A drawing-room and dining-room, my mother's study, and four bedrooms, besides--"

"Well!" exclaimed Liddell, interrupting her, "you'll have a hundredpounds' worth in it, and I dare say it cost you two. Now you have shownyou have some knowledge of the value of money, and you have served mewell at this uncomfortable crisis. I'll tell you what I will do; I'llwrite to my solicitor to go and see you, at the address you have toldme, to-morrow. He shall find out if you are speaking the truth, and lookat your goods and chattels. If he reports favorably I will do somethingfor you, on the security of the furniture. You haven't given a bill ofsale to any one else, I suppose?"

"A bill of sale?--I do not know what you mean. "

"Ah! perhaps not. " He rose and hobbled to his writing-table, where hebegan to write. "What's your address?" he asked. Katherine told him. Presently he finished and turned to her. "Put this in the post. Look atit. Mr. Newton, my solicitor, will take it with him when he calls, to-morrow or next day. No!" suddenly. "I will send the girl with it tothe pillar, and you shall stay till she returns. You may or you may notbe honest; but I will never trust any one again. "

"As you like, " returned Katherine, overjoyed not to be utterly refused. "And before I go, do let me try and find some one to be with you. It isdreadful to think of your being alone in this large house with only thatpoor little girl! and she is inclined to run away! I think her mother iscoming here; let me stay till she comes. "

"I don't want any one, " said the old man, fiercely. "I am hale andstrong; the child can do all I want. You got some food for her I see. The strength of that meat will last till to-morrow. Then you must cometo hear what I decide, and you can do what I want, _if_ you _are_ myniece!"

"Do--do let me find some one to stay with you! I cannot bear to think ofyour being alone. " The old man stared at her curiously, and a sort ofmocking smile parted his lips. "May I at least ask Susan if her mothercan come? for I am sure the girl will not stay alone. "

"Very well, " he said; "but be sure you do not promise her money! She_may_ come here to keep the child company--not for my sake. "

Katherine hastened to question Susan, and found that her mother, achar-woman, lived near. She despatched the little girl to fetch her, and, after some parleying, agreed to give her half a crown if she wouldremain for the night, determining to pay it herself rather than mentionthe subject to the ogre upstairs. Then she put her hat straight andresumed her gloves. "I must bid you good-morning now, " she said. "Thismother of Susan's looks a respectable woman, and will not ask you forany money. Will you not let me get you some tea and sugar before I go, and something for--"

"No!" cried the old man. "I have some tea. It is all that----robberleft behind her. I want nothing more. Mind you come back to-morrow. Ifyou are my brother's daughter (though it is no recommendation!) I'll dosomething for you. If you are _not_, I'd--I'd like to give you a pieceof my mind. " He laughed a fiendish, spiteful laugh as he said this. 

"Then accept my thanks beforehand, " said Katherine smiling a littlewearily. 

She was very tired. It was an oppressive day, and she had been under amental strain of no small severity. Now she was longing to be at home totell her mother all her strange adventures, and she had yet to find outby what route she should return. 

Once more she said good-by. Mr. Liddell followed her to the door, withan air of seeing her safe off the premises, rather than of courtesy, andKatherine quickly retraced her steps to the place where she hadalighted, hoping to find that universal referee, a policeman, who wouldno doubt set her on her homeward way. 

CHAPTER III. 

THE LAWYER'S VISIT. 

While her young sister-in-law was thus seeking fortune in strangeplaces, Mrs. Fred Liddell was spending a busy and, it must be confessed, a cheerful morning, preparing for the anticipated visit of ColonelOrmonde. 

It was rather inconsiderate, she thought, of Katherine to go out andleave all the extra dusting of the drawing-room to her. If she, Katherine, had remained at home she would have taken the boys, as shealways did, and then Jane, the house and children's maid, would havebeen able to help. 

If Katherine would only stay out all day she could forgive her--but shewould be sure to come in for dinner, and so appear at afternoon tea, which by no means suited Mrs. F. Liddell's views. 

The Colonel had given so very highly colored a description of the younglady who was with the little boy so nearly run over on the previousmorning that the pretty widow's jealousy was aroused. 

In spite of her flightiness and love of pleasure she had a very keensense of her own interest, and perceiving Colonel Ormonde's decidedappreciation, she had made up her mind to marry him. 

This, she felt, would be more easily designed than accomplished. ColonelOrmonde was an old soldier in every sense, and an old bachelor to boot, with an epicurean taste for good dinners and pretty women. He mightsacrifice something for the first, but the latter were too plentiful andtoo come-at-able to be worth great cost. Still, it was generallybelieved he was matrimonially inclined, and Mrs. Fred thought she mighthave as good a chance as any one else, had she not been hampered withher two boys. 

It would be too dreadful if Ormonde's fancy were caught by Katherine'sbold eyes and big figure. So Mrs. Fred wished that her sister-in-lawmight not put in an appearance. 

"She is not a bit like other girls, " thought the little woman, as shefinally shook the duster out of the open window and set herself todistribute the flowers she had bought the previous evening to the bestadvantage. "She has no dear friends, no acquaintances with whom shelikes to stop and chatter; she never stays out, and I don't think sheever had the ghost of a lover. When _I_ was her age I had had a dozen, and I was married. Poor Fred! Heigho! I wish he had left me a littlemoney, and I am sure I should never dream of giving him a successor. Butfor the sake of the dear boys I should never think of marrying! Howcruel it is to be so poor, and to be with such unenterprising people! IfMrs. Liddell would only venture to make an appearance, and just risk alittle, she might dispose of Kate and of me too. There _are_ men whomight admire Kate, and there they go on screwing and scribbling. I wishmy mother-in-law would write for some big magazine--_Blackwood_ or_Temple Bar_--or not write at all! That will do, I think. That is theonly strong arm-chair in the house; it will stand nicely beside thesofa. Oh, have you come in already, children?"--as the two boys peepedin. "Couldn't Jane have kept you out a little longer! Don't attempt tocome in here!"

"Jane had to come back to lay the cloth. Mamma, where is aunty?"

"She has not come in yet. Why, dear me, it is nearly one o'clock! Go andget off your boots, my darlings, and ask grandmamma when she expectsaunty. "

Mrs. Liddell did not know when Katherine might return, and, moreover, she was getting uneasy. She did not like to say much about her errand, for she knew her daughter-in-law thought but indifferently of herwritings, and with an indescribable "crass" dislike of what she couldnot do herself, would have been rather pleased than otherwise to knowthat a manuscript had been rejected. 

In looking over one of the drawers in her writing-table Mrs. Liddell hadfound that Katherine had left the shorter story behind. This renderedher prolonged absence less accountable, for she could have interviewedseveral publishers of three-volume novels in the time. The poor ladynaturally feared that they must have refused even to look at her work, or Katherine would have returned. 

When dinner was over, and four o'clock came, Mrs. Liddell's anxiety rosehigh; she could not bear her daughter-in-law's presence, and retiredinto her own den. 

"Won't you stay and see Colonel Ormonde? He used to be quite friendlywith poor Fred in India, and I should like him to see what a nicehandsome mamma-in-law I have, " said Mrs. Fred, caressingly: she ratherliked her mother-in-law, and felt it was as well to be on affectionateterms with her. 

"No, my dear; my head is not quite free from pain, and I want to giveKatherine something to eat when she comes in; she will be very hungry. Then I can see that the children do not get into any mischief in thegarden. "

The younger lady then went to pose herself with a dainty piece offancy-work in the drawing-room, and the elder to sit at herwriting-table, pen in hand, but not writing; only thinking round andround the circle of difficulties which hedged her in, and longing forthe sight of her daughter's face. 

At last it beamed upon her through the open door-window which led out onthe stairway to the garden; her approach had been seen by her littlenephews, who had admitted her through the back gate. 

"You must not come in now, dears; I want to talk to grannie. If you keepaway I will tell you a nice story in the evening. "

"My dearest child, what has kept you? I have been uneasy; and howdreadfully tired you look!"

"I am tired, but that is nothing. I think, dear, I have a little goodnews for you. "

"Come into the dining-room. I have some dinner for you, and we can talkquietly. Ada is expecting a visitor. "

But Katherine could not eat until she told her adventures. First shedescribed her interview with Mr. Channing. 

"It is something certainly to have left my unfortunate MS. In his hands;still I dare not hope much from that, " said Mrs. Liddell. 

"Then, mother dear, " resumed Katherine, "I ventured to do something forwhich I hope you will not be angry with me--I have found John Liddell! Ihave invaded his den; I have spoken to him; I have cooked a chop forhim, as I used for you last winter; and though I have been sent emptyaway, I am not without hopes that he will help us out of ourdifficulties. "

"Katie, dear, what _have_ you done?" cried her mother, aghast. "How didyou manage--how did you dare?" Whereupon Katherine gave her mother agraphic account of the whole affair. 

"It is a wonderful history, " said Mrs. Liddell. "I feel half frightened;yet if Mr. Liddell's solicitor is an honest, respectable man, he willsurely be on our side; at the same time, I am half afraid of fallinginto John Liddell's clutches. He has the character of being a relentlesscreditor: he will have his pound of flesh! If he gives this money as aloan, and I fail in paying the interest, he will take me by the throatas he would the greatest stranger. "

"Why should you fail?" cried Katherine. "You only want time to succeed. I am sure you will sell your books, and then we can pay principal andinterest; besides, old Mr. Liddell could _not_ treat his brother's widowas he would a stranger. "

"I am not so sure. "

"And you are not angry with me for going to him?"

"No, dear love; I am proud of your courage. Had I known what youintended, I should have forbidden you. I should never have allowed youto run the risk of being insulted: it was too much for you. I wish Icould shield you from all such trials, my Kate; but I cannot--I cannot. "The unwonted tears stood in her kind, faded eyes. 

"Ah, mother, _you_ have borne the burden and heat of the day long enoughalone; I must take my share now, and I assure you, after my adventuresto-day, I feel quite equal to do so. I have been too long a heedlessidler; I want to be a real help to you now. Do you think I have done anygood?"

"Yes, certainly! but everything depends on this man who is comingto-morrow. Your poor father used to know Mr. Liddell's solicitor, and Ithink liked him; of course he may have a different one now. Still it isa gleam of hope; which is doubly sweet because _you_ brought it. "

Katherine hastily pressed her handkerchief to her eyes, and choked downthe sob that would swell her throat. She was dreadfully tired, physically and mentally. 

"Ada asked me for that money this morning as soon as you were gone. Itold her I could not return it for a while, and she did not lookpleased, naturally enough. "

"I think she is very selfish, " said Katherine. 

"No, dear, only thoughtless, and younger than her years. She is alwaysnice with me, and would be with you if you had more patience. You mustremember that no character is stronger than its weakest part, and hersis--"

"Self, " put in Katherine. 

"No! love of admiration and pleasure, " added her mother. 

"Well, " returned Katherine, good-humoredly, "they both are very nice. "

Here the person under discussion came hastily into the room, in thecrispest of lilac and white muslins, with a black sash and bows, and arose at her waist, looking as fresh as if the heaviest atmosphere couldnot touch her. 

"Oh, you have arrived, Katherine! I wish you would come and see ColonelOrmonde. He wants so much to speak to you!"

"But I do not want to speak to him. I don't want to see any one. "

"Do come, Katie! I assure you you have made quite an impression; comeand deepen it, " cried Mrs. Frederic, with a persuasive smile, while shethought, "She is looking awfully bad and pale, and Katherine withoutcolor is nowhere; her eyes are red too. --Come, like a dear, " shepersisted, aloud, "unless you want to go up and beautify. "

"No, I certainly do not, " said Katherine, rising impatiently. "I will gowith you for a minute or two, but I am too tired to talk. "

"Your hair is in utter disorder, " remarked her mother. 

"It is no matter, " returned Katherine, following her sister-in-law outof the room. 

Her dress was by no means becoming. It was of thin black material, theremains of her last year's mourning; the white frill at her throat wascrushed by the friction of her jacket, and some splashes on the skirtgave her a travel-stained aspect. But no disorder could hide the finewarm bronze brown of her abundant hair, nor disguise the shape of herbrows and eyes, though the eyes themselves lost something of their colorfrom the paleness of her cheeks; nor did her weariness detract from thecharm of her delicate upturned chin. 

"Here is my naughty sister-in-law, who has been wandering about all themorning alone, and making us quite uneasy. "

"What! In search of further adventures--eh?" asked Colonel Ormonde, rising and making an elaborate bow. He spoke in a tone half paternal, half gallant, in right of which elderly gentlemen sometimes takeliberties. 

"I went to do a commission for my mother, " said Katherine, indifferently. 

"Ah! if we had a corps of such _commissionnaires_ as you are, we shouldspend our lives sending and receiving messages, " returned the Colonel, with a laugh. He spoke in short authoritative sentences, with a loudharsh voice, and in what might be termed the "big bow-wow" style. 

"You must not believe all Colonel Ormonde says, " observed the fairwidow, smiling and slightly shaking her head. "He is a very faithlessman. "

"By George! Mrs. Liddell, I don't deserve such a character from _you_. But"--addressing Katherine, who had simply looked at him with quiet, contemplative eyes--"I hope you have recovered from your fright ofyesterday. I never saw eyes or cheeks express terror so eloquently. "

"Yes, I was dreadfully frightened, and very, very grateful to thegentleman who saved poor Cecil. I hope he was not hurt?"

"Shall I tell him to come and report himself in person?"

"No, thank you. "

"Wouldn't you like to thank him again? It might be a pleasant process toboth parties--eh?"

Katherine smiled good-humoredly, while she thought, "What an idiot!"

"Katherine is a very serious young woman, " said Mrs. Frederic--"quitetoo awfully in earnest; is always striving painfully to do her duty. Shedespises frivolities and never dreams of flirtation. "

"This is an appalling description, " said Ormonde. "Pray is it onprinciple you renounce flirtation?"

"For a much better reason, " replied Katherine, wearily. "Because I haveno one to flirt with. "

"By Jove! there's a state of destitution! Why, it is a blot on societythat you should be left lamenting. "

"Yes; is it not melancholy?" replied Katherine, carelessly. "Ada, I amso tired I am sure you will excuse me if I go away to rest?"

"Before you go, " said Ormonde, eagerly, "I have a request to make. Achum of mine, Sir James Brereton, and myself are going up the river onThursday, with some friends of Mrs. Liddell's--a picnic affair. Yoursister-in-law has promised to honor me with her company, and I earnestlyhope _you_ will accompany her. I promise you shall be induced to rescindyour anti-flirtation resolutions. "

"Up the river?" repeated Katherine, with a wistful look, and paused. "OnThursday next? Thank you very much, but I'm engaged--quite particularlyengaged. "

"Nonsense, Katie!" cried her sister-in-law. "Where in the world are yougoing? You know you never have an engagement anywhere. "

"Come, Miss Liddell, do not be cruel. We will have a very jolly day, andI'll try and persuade your hero of yesterday to meet you. "

"I should like to go very much, but I really cannot. I thank you forthinking of me. " She stood up, and, with a slight bow, said, "Good-morning, " leaving the room before the stout Colonel could reachthe door to open it. 

"Phew! that was sharp, short, and decisive, " said Ormonde. 

"Yes, wasn't it? She is quite a character. Leave her to me if you wishher to go. I will manage it. "

"Yes, do. She is something fresh, though she is not so handsome as Ithought. I suspect there is a strong dash of the devil in her. "

"I cannot say _I_ have seen much of it, " said the young widow, frankly. She was extremely shrewd in a small way, and had adopted an air ofcandid good-nature as best suited to her style and complexion. "Handsomeor not, if you would like to have her at your party, I will try topersuade her to come. "

"Thanks. What a little brick you are!" said Ormonde, admiringly. "Nononsense with you, or trying to keep a pretty girl out of it. I say, Mrs. Liddell, it must be an awful life for you, shut up in this stuffysuburban box?"

"Well, it is not cheerful; but I have no choice, so I just make the bestof it, " she returned, with as bright a smile as she could muster. "Nouse spoiling one's eyes or one's temper over the inevitable. Then I amreally fond of my mother-in-law, poor soul! She would spoil me if shehad the means; and Katherine--well, she isn't bad. "

"By George! if you make your mother-in-law fond of you, you must be anangel incarnate. "

"An angel!" echoed the little lady. "That would never do. No, no; it isbecause I am so desperately human I get on with them all. "

"Delightfully human, you mean. No house could be dull with you in it. There's nothing like pluck and good-humor in a woman. "

"Well, Heaven knows I want both!"

"I am afraid I must be off, " said the Colonel. "I am going to dine withEversley, and he has a villa at Rochampton--quite a journey, you know. Where is the little chap that was nearly run over?"

"Playing in the garden, very happy and very dirty. I dare not have himin--he always climbs up and hangs about me, for I have my best dresson!"--the last words in large capitals. 

"A deuced becoming dress too; but it's not so fine as what you had onyesterday. "

"No, of Course not; there are degrees of best dress. Yesterday's was my_very_ best go-to-luncheon dress, and must last me a whole year. "

"A year! By Jove! And you always look well dressed! You are a wonderfulwoman! Now I must be off. Mrs. Burnett says she will send the carriagefor you on Thursday. We drive down to Twickenham. "

"Oh, thank you, Colonel Ormonde! I am sure I am indebted to you for thatlift, " said Mrs. Frederic, while she thought, "He might have driven medown himself. "

"_Au revoir_, then. Always hard to tear myself away from such a charminglittle witch as you are. "

Ormonde kissed her hand and departed. 

"Jolly, plucky little woman, " he thought, as he walked toward theBayswater Road, looking for a hansom. "Just the sort to save a mantrouble, and get full value out of a sovereign. " He continued to muse onthe wonderful discovery he had made of a woman perfectly planned, according to man's ideal--sweet, yielding, tenderly sympathetic, willingand capable to ward off all annoyances from her master, full of feelingfor _his_ troubles, and not to be moved by her own to sad looks, unbecoming tears, or downcast spirits--all softness to him, allbristling sharpness to the rest of the world. "Such a woman would answermy purpose as well as a woman with money, and she is an uncommonlytempting morsel. But then those infernal boys! I am not going to providefor another fellow's brats, and they can't have more than sixty poundsbetween them from the fund! No; I must not make an ass of myself, evenfor a pretty, clever woman, who has rather a hankering for myself, or Iam much mistaken. That sister-in-law of hers is the making of anuncommon fine woman. There's a dash of a tragedy queen about her, but itwill be good fun to play her against the widow. "

And the widow, as she rang for the house-maid to remove the tea-things, indulged in a few speculations on her side. "He was evidentlydisappointed with Katherine. I am not surprised. She is looking ill, andshe has _such_ ungracious manners! Of course she will come to thisRichmond party when I ask her, and I must ask her. Ormonde is a gooddeal smitten with me, but he'll not lose his head. It is an awful thingto be poor and to have two boys. Oh, how dreadful it is to live in thishorrible dull hole! I wonder if Colonel Ormonde will ever propose forme! He is very nice and pleasant, but he is awfully selfish. I hateselfishness. Perhaps if Mrs. Liddell would undertake to keep the littleboys altogether it might make matters easier. Poor children! if I wereonly rich I would never wish to part with them; but who can hold outagainst poverty?"

The night which followed was sleepless to Mrs. Liddell. How could sheclose her eyes when so much depended on the visit she hoped to receiveto-morrow? If this agent of John Liddell's was propitious, she might getbreathing-time and be able to wait till her manuscript brought forthsome fruit; if not--well she dared not think of the reverse. Shelistened to the soft, regular breathing of her daughter, who was wrappedin refreshing slumber, and thanked God for the quick forgetfulness ofyouth. It was like a fresh draught of life and hope to think of hercourage and perseverance in finding out and affronting her miserlyuncle. Good must come of it. 

Day dawned bright and clear, and the little party met as usual atbreakfast. Neither mother nor daughter had breathed a word of theirhopes or fears to the pretty widow. Breakfast over, they all dispersedto their usual avocations. Katherine, downstairs, was consulting cook, and Mrs. Liddell was wearily sorting and tearing up papers, when theservant came into the study and said, "Please, 'm, there's a gentlemanwanting you. '

"Where have you put him?" asked Mrs. Liddell, glancing at the cardpresented to her, on which was printed, "Mr. C. B. Newton, 26 ManchesterBuildings. "

"He is by the door, 'm. "

"Oh, show him into the dining-room. Where is Mrs. Frederic?"

"Gone out, 'm. "

"I will come directly, " and Mrs. Liddell hastily locked a drawer and puta weight on her papers; "Tell Miss Liddell to come to me, " she said asshe passed. 

A short, thick-set man of more than middle age, slightly bald, with anupturned nose, quiet, watchful eyes of no particular color, and smallsandy mutton-chop whiskers, was standing near the window when sheentered. He made a quick bow, and stepped nearer "Mrs. Liddell?" heasked. 

"Yes, I am Mrs. Liddell. "

"I have called on the part of my client, Mr. John Liddell, of LegraveCrescent, to make certain inquiries. This note, which I received fromhim yesterday afternoon, will explain the object of my visit. "

"Pray sit down, Mr. Newton"--taking a chair as she spoke, while she readthe small, crabbed, tremulous characters written on the page presentedto her. The note contained directions to call on Mrs. Liddell andascertain if she really was the widow of his late brother; also whatsecurity she could offer for a small loan. 

Her color rose faintly as she read. 

"You must not regard the plainness of business phraseology, " said thevisitor, in dry, precise tones. "My client means no offence. "

"Nor do I mean to take any, " she replied, handing him back the note. "Pray how am I to prove my own identity?"

"It would not, I suppose, be very difficult; but, as it happens, _I_ canbe your witness. I quite well remember seeing you with Mr. Liddell, yourlate husband, some sixteen or seventeen years ago. "

"Indeed! I am surprised that I do not recall you. I generally have agood memory, but--"

"_I_ am not surprised. I was unhappily the bearer of an unpleasantmessage, which excited Mr. Liddell considerably, and your attention wasabsorbed by your efforts to calm him. "

"I remember, " said Mrs. Liddell, coloring deeply. "It was a tryingtime. "

"We will consider this inquiry answered. As regards the loan"--the dooropening to admit Katherine interrupted him; he rose and bowed formallywhen her mother named her; then he resumed his sentence--"as regardsthe loan, I must first know the amount it is proposed to borrow, inorder to judge of the security offered. "

"I asked my uncle for thirty pounds, but I should be very glad if hewould lend us forty. "

"No, Katie; I dare not take so much, " interrupted her mother. "Remember, it must be repaid; and, " addressing the lawyer, she added, "the onlysecurity I have to offer is the furniture of this house--furniture ofthe simplest, as you will see. "

"Have you seen Mr. Liddell?" asked Mr. Newton, a slight expression ofsurprise passing over his face. 

"My daughter has, " said Mrs. Liddell. 

"Yes; I ventured to visit him, because"--she hesitated, and then wenton, frankly--"because we wanted this money very much indeed; and I foundhim in a sad condition. " Katherine went on to describe the scene ofyesterday, dwelling on the desolate position of the old man. "I feltfrightened to leave him alone; he seems weak, and unfit to take care ofhimself. I hope, Mr. Newton, you will go to him and induce him to have aproper servant. I am going, because I promised in any case to go; and Imust give the little servant's mother the half-crown I promised her. "

"I have been somewhat uneasy respecting Mr. Liddell. For a considerabletime I had my doubts of his cook housekeeper; but he is a man of strongwill and peculiar views. Then the fear of parting with money increaseswith increasing years. I am glad Miss Liddell succeeded in makingherself known to him; he is a peculiar character--very peculiar. " Hepaused a moment, looking keenly at Katherine, and added: "With a view toarranging for the loan you require, I must ask to look at your rooms. Ido not suppose I am a judge of such things, but the knowledge of formertransactions, my recollection of our last interview, determines me tocome myself rather than to send an ordinary employee. "

"I feel your kind consideration warmly, " said Mrs. Liddell. "Follow me, and you shall see what few household goods I possess. "

Gravely and in silence Mr. Newton was conducted to the drawing-room, thebest bedroom, Mrs. Liddell's, and the children's rooms. The examinationwas swiftly accomplished. Then the sedate lawyer returned to thedining-room and began to put on his right-hand glove. "I presume, " hesaid--"it is a mere, formal question--I presume there is no claim orlien upon your goods and chattels?"

"None whatever. I want a little temporary help until--" She paused. 

"My mother has been successful in writing short stories. Channing &Wyndham have a three-volume novel of hers now, and I am sure they willtake it; then she can pay Mr. Liddell easily. "

The lawyer smiled a queer little withered, half-developed smile. "Itrust your anticipations may be verified, " he said. "Now, my dear madam, I need intrude on you no longer; I shall go on to see Mr. Liddell. Butthough I shall certainly represent that he may safely make you thissmall advance, it is possible he may refuse; and it is certain he willask high interest. However, I shall do my best. "

"It will be a great accommodation if he consents. And if he is richsurely he will not deal as hardly with his brother's widow as with astranger. "

"Where money is concerned, Mr. Liddell recognizes neither friend norfoe. He will wish some form of the nature of a bill of sale to besigned. "

"Whatever you both think right, " said Mrs. Liddell. 

Here some shouts from the garden drew Newton's attention to the window, through which Cecil and Charlie could be seen endeavoring to put somenoxious insect on the neck of the nurse-maid, who had taken them theirnoonday slices of bread and butter. "My grandsons, " said Mrs. Liddell, smiling--"My poor boy's orphans. "

"Hum!" said the little man; and he stood a moment in thought. 

"I think Miss Liddell said her uncle expressed a wish that she shouldreturn to see him?"

"He made me promise to go back to-day. "

"Then by no means disappoint him. He is a very difficult man to manage, and if your daughter"--to Mrs. Liddell--"could contrive to interest him, to make him indulge in a few of the comforts necessary to his years andhis position, it would be of the last importance, and ultimately, Ihope, not unprofitable to herself. "

"I fear the last is highly improbable; but Katherine will certainlyfulfil her promise. "

"I am going to drive over to Legrave Crescent myself: if it would suitMiss Liddell to accompany me, I shall be most happy to be her escort. "

"Thank you; I shall be very glad. "

"My brother-in-law will not imagine there is any collusion between you?"asked Mrs. Liddell, with a smile. "Men of his character are suspicious. "

"No; I think I may venture so far, though Mr. Liddell _is_ suspicious. "

"Then I must ask you to wait while I put on my hat, " said Katherine, andleft the room. 

She had changed her dress when her mother followed her. "My love, youhad better take a few shillings, and try and come back soon. Why, Katie, considering you had to do cooking yesterday, you ought not to have puton your best frock, dear, for I see little chance of another. "

"Oh, mother, I could _not_ go out in my old black cashmere with Mr. Newton. Why, he is the perfection of neatness. "

"Here is Ada, just coming in. "

"What a volley of questions she will ask! Now, mother, do _not_ satisfyher. Tell her my rich uncle has sent his solicitor to interview us, andthat I am going to dine with him. I wish I could have had some dinnerbefore I went, for I am going to Hungry Hall. "

"Courage, darling! If we _can_ get this loan it will be a great relief. Do not keep him waiting any longer--there are your gloves. Come back assoon as ever you can. "

CHAPTER IV. 

"A RIFT IN THE CLOUDS. "

"Where in the world is Katherine going, and who is that man?" exclaimedthe younger widow, her light blue eyes wide open in amazement, whenKatherine had passed her with a smiling "Good-by for the present, " andwalked down the road beside the precise lawyer. 

"She is going-to her uncle, Mr. John Liddell, who expressed a wish tosee her to-day, and that gentleman is Mr. Liddell's solicitor, " returnedthe elder lady, smiling to think how soon she had been driven in uponthe reserved force of her daughter's suggestion. 

"What! that terrible old miser poor Fred used to talk of? Why, he willtake a favorable turn, and leave everything to Katie! Oh, dear Mrs. Liddell, that will not be fair. _Do_ contrive to let him see Cis andCharlie. We will declare that Cecil is his very image. Old men like tobe considered like pretty young creatures. I always get on with crabbedold men. Let _me_ see him too. Katherine must not keep the game all inher own hands. Let me have a chance. "

"I don't fancy Katie has much of a chance herself, " returned Mrs. Liddell, as she followed her daughter-in-law into the dining-room. "Itis an old man's whim, and he will probably never wish to see her again. "

"Very likely. You know dear Katherine does not do herself justice; hermanners are so abrupt. You do not mind my saying so?"

"Not in the least. " Mrs. Liddell had a fine temper, and also a keensense of humor. Though fond of and indulgent to her daughter-in-law, shesaw through her more clearly than Katherine did, as she gave full creditfor the good that was in her, in spite of her little foibles andgreediness. "Katherine is much more abrupt than you are. "

"Exactly. She will never be quite up to her dear mother's mark. Fewstep-mothers and daughters get on as we do, and I am sure you would lookafter poor Fred's boys as if they were your own. "

"So would Katherine. Of that you may be sure, my dear. "

"Oh yes; she is very fond of them, especially Charlie. I do not thinkshe is really just to Cecil. "

"Real justice is rare, " returned Mrs. Liddell, calmly. "There is a notefor you, Ada, on the chimney-piece; it came just after you went out. "

"Why, it is from Mrs. Burnett!"--pouncing on it and tearing it open. "What shall I do?" she almost screamed as she read it. "I am afraid Ishall never get there in time. What o'clock is it?--my watch is neverright. Half-past twelve, and luncheon is at half-past one. Oh, I mustmanage it! Read that, dear. --Jane! Jane! bring me some hot waterimmediately, and come help me to dress. --What is the cab fare to ParkTerrace? Eighteenpence?--it can't be so much. Just lend me a shilling;you can take it out of the ten pounds you are to pay me next week. " Andshe flew out of the room. 

"Mrs. Liddell sat down with a sigh, and read the note which caused thisexcitement:

"DEAR MRS. LIDDELL, --Do help me in a dilemma! We have a box forMiss St. Germaine's benefit matinee to-morrow, and Lady Alice Mordauntwants to come with Fanny and Bea. You know she is not out yet. Now I amengaged to go with Florence to Lady McLean's garden party at Twickenham. So may I _depend_ on you to come and chaperon them? If it were my owngirls only, they could go with Ormonde or any one. But Lady Alice is tobe escorted to our house by that incarnation of propriety, Mr. Errington; so they must have a chaperon. I therefore depend on you. Luncheon at 1. 30. Do not fail. Ever yours affectionately. E. BURNETT. "

Mrs. Liddell folded up the epistle and placed it in its envelope; thenshe sat musing. How cruel it would be to break this butterfly on thewheel of bitter circumstance! It would be irrational, she thought, "toexpect the strength that could submit to and endure the inevitable from_her_. She will at once suffer more and less than my Katie. Smallexterior things will sting Ada and make her miserable. As long asKatherine's heart is satisfied all else can be borne; but _her_conditions are more difficult. Heigho! for material ills there isnothing so intolerable as debt. " She rose and went to her room with thevague intention of doing some of the hundred and one things which neededdoing, one more than another, as was usual in her busy life, but somehowthe uncertainty and anxiety oppressing her heart made her incapable ofcontinued action; she was always breaking off to think--and the more shethought, the more uneasy she grew. If she had worked out the thin veinof invention and observation which gained her her humble literarysuccess, one source of income was gone--a source on which she hadreckoned too surely. Then she had not anticipated that herdaughter-in-law would be so expensive an inmate. Self-denial was a thingincomprehensible to her. As long as she took care of her clothes, andrefrained from buying the very expensive garments her soul longed for, she considered herself most exemplary. As for the smaller savings ofomnibus and cabs not absolutely needful, she rarely thought of suchmatters, or, if she did, it made her frightfully cross, and urged her tomany spiteful and contemptuous remarks on girls who have the strength ofa horse, and do not care what horrid places they tramp through: so thatshe never was able to lighten the household burdens by a farthing beyondthe very small amount she had originally agreed to contribute towardthem. 

Her mother-in-law's meditations were interrupted by the young widowskurrying in in desperate haste. "Jane has gone for a cab, " sheexclaimed; "have you that shilling?"

"Here; you had better have eighteenpence, in case--"

"Oh yes, I had better; and do I look nice?"

"Very nice indeed. I think you are looking so much better than you didlast year--"

"That is because I go out a little; I delight in the theatre. Now I mustbe off. There is the cab--oh! a horrid four-wheeler. Good-by, dear. "

Mrs. Burnett was the wife of a civilian high up in the Indian service, and was herself a woman of good family. She had come home in theprevious winter in order to introduce her eldest daughter to society, and accidentally meeting Mrs. Frederic Liddell, whom she had known inIndia, was graciously pleased to patronize her. She had taken a handsomefurnished house near Hyde Park, and kept it freely open during theseason. Admission to such an establishment was a sort of "open sesame"to heaven for the little widow. She loved, she adored Mrs. Burnett andher dear charming girls, to say nothing of two half-grown sons, "themost delightful boys!" She was really fond of them for the time, and itwas this touch of temporary sincerity that gave her the unconsciouspower to hold the hearts of Mrs. Burnett and her daughters. 

She was quite the pet of the family, and always at their beck and call. To keep this position she strained every means; she even denied herselfan occasional pair of gloves in order to tip the stately man-servant whoopened the door and opened her umbrella occasionally for her. 

She found the whole party assembled in the dining-room, and her entrancewas hailed with acclamations. 

"I had just begun to tremble lest you should not come, " cried Mrs. Burnett, stretching out her hand, but not rising from her seat at thehead of the table. 

"I only had your note half an hour ago, " said Mrs. Liddell, withpardonable inaccuracy, feeling her spirits rise in the delightfulatmosphere, flower-scented, and stirred by the laughter and joyouschatter of the "goodlie companie. "

A long table set forth with all the paraphernalia of an excellentluncheon was surrounded by a merry party, the girls in charming summertoilettes, and as many men as women. Men, too, in the freshest possibleattire, all "on pleasure bent. "

"Do you know us all?" asked Mrs. Burnett, looking round. "Yes, I thinkall but Lady Alice Mordaunt and Mr. Kirby. "

"I have never had the pleasure of meeting Lady Alice Mordauntbefore"--with a graceful little courtesy--"but Mr. Kirby, though _he_has forgotten me, I remember meeting him at Rumchuddar, when I firstwent out to my poor dear papa. Perhaps you remember _him_--CaptainDunbar, at----?" Thus said Mrs. Liddell, as she glided into her seatbetween one of the Burnetts and a tall, big, shapeless-looking man withred hair, small sharp eyes, a yellow-ochreish complexion, and craggytemples, who had risen courteously to make room for her. 

"God bless my soul!" he exclaimed, turning red--a dull deep red. "Iremember perfectly--that is, I don't remember _you_; I remember yourfather. I'm sure I do not know how I could have forgotten you, " with ashy, admiring glance. 

"Nor I either, " cried Colonel Ormonde, who sat opposite. "Though Mrs. Liddell does not seem to remember _me_. "

"Why, I only saw you yesterday, and I am sure I bowed to you as I camein. " So saying, Mrs. Liddell lifted her head with a sweet caressingsmile to the eldest of the Burnett boys, who himself brought her somepigeon pie; and from that moment she devoted herself to her newacquaintance, utterly regardless of the hitherto tenderly cultivatedColonel. 

Kirby, a newly arrived Indian magistrate, was not given to conversation, but he was assiduous in attending to his fair neighbor's wants, andseemed to like listening to her lively remarks. 

Colonel Ormonde glanced at them from time to time; he was amazed andindignant that Mrs. Liddell could attend to any one save himself. He wasrather unfortunately placed between Miss Burnett, whose attention wastaken up by Sir Ralph Brereton, a marriageable baronet, who sat on herother side, and Lady Alice Mordaunt, a timid, colorless, but gracefulgirl, still in the school-room, who scarcely spoke at all, and if shedid, always to her right-hand neighbor, a stately-looking man with gravedark eyes, which saved him from being plain, and a clear colorless browncomplexion. He said very little, but his voice, though rather cold, waspleasant and refined, conveying the impression that he was accustomed tobe heard with attention. He too was very attentive to Lady Alice, but ina kind, fatherly way, as if she were a helpless creature under his care. 

"I believe we are quite an Indian party, " said Mrs. Burnett, lookingdown the table. "Of course my children are Indian by inheritance; thenthere are Mr. Kirby and Mr. Errington"--nodding to the dark man nextLady Alice--"and Colonel Ormonde. "

"I am not Indian, you know; I was only quartered in India for a fewyears, " returned Ormonde, contradictiously. 

"And I was only a visitor for one season's tiger-shooting, " saidBrereton. 

"And I do not want to go, " cried Tom Burnett; "I want to be an attache. "

"Oh yes; you speak so many languages!" said his younger sister. 

"I certainly do not consider myself an old Indian, " said the manaddressed as Errington, "though I have visited it more than once. "

"You an Indian!" cried Ormonde. "Why, you have just started as anEnglish country gentleman. We are to have Errington for a comrade on thebench and in the field down in Clayshire. His father has bought GarstonHall--quite close to Melford, Lady Alice. But I suppose you know allabout it. "

"Yes, " said Lady Alice, in a tone which might be affirmation orinterrogation. "There are such pretty walks in Garston Woods!"

"Errington was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, " returned Ormonde. "Garston dwarfs Castleford, I can tell you. It was a good deal out ofrepair--the Hall I mean?"

"It is. We do not expect to get it into thorough repair till winter. Then I hope, Mrs. Burnett, you will honor us by a visit, " saidErrington. 

"With the greatest pleasure, " exclaimed the hostess. 

"And oh, Mr. Errington, do give a ball!" cried Fanny, the seconddaughter. 

"I fear that is beyond my powers. I do not think I ever danced in mylife. "

"Are you to be of the party on board Lord Melford's yacht?" askedOrmonde, speaking to Lady Alice. 

"Oh no. I am to stay with Aunt Harriet at the Rectory all the summer. "

"Ah, that is too bad. You'd like sailing about, I dare say?"

"Oh, yachting must be the most delightful thing in the world, " criedMrs. Liddell, from her place opposite. "If I were you I should coax myfather to let me go. "

"Papa knows best. I am very fond of the Rectory, " said Lady Alice, blushing at being so publicly addressed. 

"And _you_ understand the beauty of obedience, " said Errington, withgrave approval. 

"Now, if you intend to see the whole 'fun of the fair, '" said Mrs. Burnett, "you had better be going, young people. The carriage is to comeback for us after setting you down at the theatre. Who are going? Mygirls, Lady Alice, and Mrs. Liddell? Who is to be their escort? ColonelOrmonde?"

He glanced across the table. Mrs. Liddell sent no glance in hisdirection; she again devoted her attention to Kirby. 

"No, thank you. To be intensely amused from two to six is more than Ican stand; besides, I hope to meet you at Lady Maclean's thisafternoon. "

"I have an engagement, a business engagement at three, " said Errington;"but I shall be happy to call for these ladies and see them home. "

"You need not take that trouble, " said Mrs. Burnett. "My son will be inthe theatre later, and take charge of them; but there is still a placein the box. Will you go, Mr. Kirby?"

"Oh, pray do!" cried Mrs. Liddell. "You will be sure to be amused; amatinee of this kind is great fun. There is singing and dancing andacting and recitations of all kinds. " She spoke in her liveliest mannerand her sweetest tones. 

"You are very good. I have not been in a theatre since I arrived; so ifyou really have a place for me, I shall be most happy to accompany you. "

"That's settled. Go and put on your hats, my dears, " said Mrs. Burnett;and her daughters, with Lady Alice, left the room. 

"Well, Mrs. Liddell, have you persuaded your handsome sister-in-law tojoin our party on Thursday?" asked Ormonde. 

"I have really had no time to speak much to her. An old uncle of hers, as rich as a Jew and a perfect miser, sent his lawyer for her thismorning. I suppose he is going to make her his heiress. I hope they willgive a share to my poor little boys. I am going to take them to ask ablessing from their aged relative, I assure you. "

"Oh yes, by George! you try and hold on to him. The little fellows oughtto have the biggest share, of course, as the _nephew's_ children. Why, it would change your position altogether if your boys had ten or fifteenthou. Between them. "

"Or apiece, " said Mrs. Liddell, carelessly. She was immensely amused bythe Colonel's tone of deep interest. "You may be very sure I shall do mybest. I know the value of money. "

"May I ask where this Mr. Liddell resides?" asked Mr. Errington, joiningthem, with a bow to the young widow. 

"I really do not know, though he is my uncle-in-law. Pray do you knowhim?"

"No; I know of him, but we are not personally acquainted. "

"And is he not supposed to be very rich?"

"That I cannot say; but I have an idea that he is well off. "

With another bow Errington retreated to say good-morning to his hostess. 

"Well, whether your sister-in-law comes or not, I hope we are sure ofyour charming self?" said Ormonde. 

"Unless I am obliged to parade my boys for their grand-uncle'sinspection, I am sure to honor you. "

"Of course everything must give away to _that_. I shall come and inquirewhat news soon, if I may?"

"Oh yes; come when you like. "

"They are all ready, Mrs. Liddell, " remarked her hostess. 

Mr. Kirby offered his arm, which was accepted with a smile, and thelittle widow sailed away with the sense of riding on the crest of awave. The ladies were packed into the carriage, the polite man out oflivery whistled up a hansom for the two gentlemen, and the luncheonparty was over. 

It was a weary day to Mrs. Liddell--the dowager Mrs. Liddell, as societywould have called her, only she had no dower. All she had inherited fromher husband was the remnant of his debts, which she had been strugglingfor some years to pay off, and the care and maintenance of her boy andgirl, on her own slender funds. 

At present the horizon looked very dark, and she almost regretted forKatherine's sake that she had agreed to make a home for her son's widowand children. Yet what would have become of them without it?

Partly to rouse herself from her fruitless reflections, partly torelieve the house-maid, who had been doing some extra scrubbing, Mrs. Liddell took her little grandsons to Kensington Gardens, and when theyhad selected a place to play in she sat down with a book which she hadbrought in the vain hope of getting out of herself. But her sight wassoon diverted from the page before her by the visions which camethronging from the thickly peopled past. 

Her life had been a hard continuous fight with difficulty after thefirst few years of her wedded existence. She had seen her gay, pleasure-loving husband change under the iron grasp of untowardcircumstances into a querulous, bitter, disappointed man, rewarding allher efforts to keep their heads above water by sarcastic complaints ofher narrow stinginess, venting on her the remorseful consciousness, unacknowledged to himself, that his reverses were the result of his ownreckless extravagance. Perhaps to her true heart the cruelest pain ofall was the gradual dying out, or rather killing out, of the love sheonce bore him, the vanishing, one by one, of the illusions she cherishedrespecting him, till she saw the man as he really was, weak, unstable, self-indulgent, incapable of true manliness. Still she was patient withhim to the last; and when she was relieved by friendly death from thecharge of so wilful and ungrateful a burden--though things were easier, because hers was the sole authority--it was a constant strain to providethe education necessary for her boy. But that accomplished, she had asweet interlude with her daughter in humble peace, and while she did herbest to arm the child for the conflict of life, she avoided weakeningherself by too much thought for her future. This spell of repose wasbroken by the necessity for sacrificing some of her small capital to sether son free from his embarrassments. Then came his death and herpresent experiment in house-keeping in order to give his widow andchildren a refuge. 

For the last four or five years she had made a welcome addition to hersmall income by her pen, contributing to the smaller weekly periodicalsstories and sketches; for Mrs. Liddell had seen much with keen, observant eyes, and had a fair share of humor. This small success hadtempted her to spend several months on a three-volume novel, therebydepriving herself of present remuneration which shorter, lighter taleshad brought in. She sorely feared this ambitious step was amistake--that she had over-estimated her own powers. She feared that shecould never manage to keep up the very humble establishment she hadstarted. Above all, she feared that her own health and physical forcewere failing. It was such an effort to do much that formerly was asnothing. That attack of bronchitis last spring had tried her severely:she had never felt quite the same since. And if she were called away, what would become of Katherine? Never was there a dearer daughter thanher Katie. She knew every turn, every light and shade in her nature--herfaults, her pride and hastiness, her deep, tender heart. A sob rose inher throat at the idea of Katherine being left alone to engagesingle-handed in the struggle for existence. No! She _would_ live!--shewould battle on with poverty and difficulty till Katherine was a fewyears older; till she was stronger and better able to stand alone. 

"Yet she is strong and brave for nineteen, " thought the mother, proudly. "Perhaps I have kept her too much by my side. I wish I could let her paya visit to the Mitchells. They have asked her repeatedly; but we mustnot think of it at present. "

Here her little grandsons, who had more than once broken in upon hermusings, came running across the grass to inform her they were sure itwas tea-time, as they were very hungry. 

"Then we shall go home, " said Mrs. Liddell, immediately clearing herface of its look of gloom, and rising to accompany them, cheered by thethought that perhaps Katie's dear face might be ready to welcome her. 

But neither daughter nor daughter-in-law awaited her, and a couple ofhours went slowly over--slowly and wearily, for she forced herself totell the boys a couple of thrilling tales, before they went to bed, tokeep them quiet and cool. Then, with promises that both mamma and auntieshould come and kiss them as soon as they returned, she dismissed thelittle fellows. 

It was past seven when Katherine at last appeared at the garden gate. 

"I am so glad you have come in before Ada, " cried Mrs. Liddell, embracing her. "Are you very tired, dearest?"

"No, not nearly so tired as yesterday; and, mother dear, I think thatstrange old man will certainly give us the money. "

"Thank God! Tell me all about your day. "

"It was all very funny, but not terrible, like yesterday. My uncle seemsdetermined to make a cook of me. He would not let them buy or prepareany food for him, except a cup of tea and some toast, until I came. Howthat frail old man can exist upon so little nourishment I cannotimagine; but though I seem to give him satisfaction, he does not expressany. While he and Mr. Newton talked I was sent to look at the conditionof the rooms upstairs. Such a condition of dust and neglect you couldnot conceive. Oh, the gloom and misery of the whole house is beyonddescription!"

"Did you get anything to eat yourself?" asked Mrs. Liddell. 

"Yes; Mr. Newton, who is really kind and friendly under his cool, precise exterior, sent for some cakes. He staid a good while. I think hehas a good deal of influence on Mr. Liddell. (I can hardly call himuncle. ) He was more polite when Mr. Newton was present. When he wasgoing away he said, 'I am happy to say I have convinced Mr. Liddell thatyou are his niece, and if you and your mother will call upon me at noonto-morrow, the loan you wish for can be arranged, if you will agree tocertain conditions, which I should like to explain both to you and toMrs. Liddell. ' He gave me his card. Here it is. He has written 'twelveto one' on it. "

"They must be very hard conditions if we cannot agree to them, " saidMrs. Liddell, taking out her porte-monnaie and putting the card into it. "This is indeed a Godsend, Katie, dear. I am thankful you had the pluckto attack the old lion in his den. "

"Lion! Hyena rather. Yet I cannot help feeling sorry for him. Think ofpassing away without a soul to care whether you live or die--without onepleasant memory!"

"His memories are anything but pleasant, " returned Mrs. Liddell, gravely. "His wife, of whom I believe he was fond in his own way, lefthim when their only child, a son, was about ten years old. This seemedto turn his blood to gall. He took an unnatural dislike to his poor boy, and treated him so badly that he ran away to sea. Poor fellow? he usedsometimes to write to your father. Their mutual dislike to John Liddellwas a kind of bond between them. It is an unhappy story, for, as I toldyou, he was afterward killed at the gold diggings. 

"Very dreadful!" said Katherine, thoughtfully. "What a cruel visiting ofthe mother's sin on the unfortunate child!--that horrible bit of thedecalogue! With all his icy cold selfishness Mr. Liddell is a gentleman. His voice is refined, and except when he was carried away by hi-furyagainst his roguish housekeeper he seems to have a certain self-respect. After Mr. Newton went away I read for a long time all the money articlesin two penny papers, for the _Times_ had been taken away. Then I wrote acouple of letters, and all my uncle said was: 'So it seems you reallyare my niece. Well, I hope you know more of the value of money thaneither your father or mother. ' I could not let that pass, and said, 'Myfather died when I was too young to know him; but no one could managemoney better nor with greater care than my mother. ' He stared at me. 'Iam glad to hear it, ' he returned, very dryly. He had a note from hisstock-broker in reply to one I wrote for him yesterday. He seemedgreatly pleased with it. He kept chuckling and murmuring, 'Just in time, just in time!'"

"Perhaps he will fancy you bring him luck. "

"I am awfully afraid he will want me to go and read to him every day, for when I was directing one of the letters he said, as though tohimself, 'If she can read and write for me I need not buy a new pair ofspectacles. ' It would be too dreadful to be with that cynical hyenaevery day. "

"Oh, when he gets a good servant he will not want you. "

"I hope not. "

"Now come, you must have your supper, dear. I am sure you have earnedit. We will have it quietly together before Ada comes back. I feel sorelieved, I shall be able to eat now. "

CHAPTER V. 

"INTO THE SHADOWS. "

To avoid Mrs. Frederic Liddell's almost screaming curiosity was noteasy, and to appease it Kate assumed an air of frankness, saying thatshe believed Mr. Liddell merely wished to test her powers as secretary, and that she hoped she had not succeeded too well. 

"Oh, you lazy thing! You really ought to try and get in with him. Oughtn't she, Mrs. Liddell?"

"Yes, certainly, if she can; but I fancy it will not be so easy. Whatare you going to do to-day, Ada?"

"Oh, nothing"--in a rather discontented tone. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I am obliged to go into town on a matter of business, and Iwant to take Katherine. "

"Well, I will look after the boys"--condescendingly, as if it were nother legitimate business. "But I really think you worry too much aboutthose tiresome publishers. They would think more of you if you troubledthem less. Your mother looks pale and fagged, Katherine. "

"Yes, she does indeed, " looking anxiously at her. 

"I am afraid the publishers would leave me too utterly undisturbed if Ileft them alone, " returned Mrs. Liddell, smiling, and leaving thesuggestion uncontradicted. This conversation took place at breakfast. 

Mother and daughter made the journey cityward very silently, both a gooddeal occupied conjecturing what conditions John Liddell could possiblymean to impose. Perhaps only a very high rate of interest, which wouldcost no small effort to spare from their narrow income. 

Mr. Newton received his visitors directly their names were sent up tohim. His was an eminent firm; their offices, light, clean, wellfurnished, an abode which impressed those who entered with the idea offair dealing, and forbade the notion of dark dusty corners moral orphysical. 

Katherine's quick eyes took in the aspect of the place: the bookshelves, where stores of legal learning in calf-bound volumes were ranged: thevarious brown tin boxes with names in white paint suggestive of thetitle-deeds "of all the land"; the big knee-hole table loaded withpapers; the heavy chairs upholstered in the best leather for thepatients who came to be treated; and Mr. Newton himself, more intenselycleaned up and starched than ever, in an oaken seat of mediæval form. 

He rose and set chairs for Mrs. Liddell and her daughter himself; thenhe rustled among his papers, and spoke down a tube. 

"Ahem!" he began. "Your brother-in-law, madam, is a man of peculiarcharacter, but by no means without discrimination. Thank you"--to aclerk who brought in a long folded paper and laid it beside him, disappearing quickly. "By no means without discrimination, " repeated Mr. Newton. "Unfortunately the love of money grows on a childless man, andhis terms for the loan you require may not meet your approbation. "

"Pray what are they?" asked Mrs. Liddell. 

"My client will accept a bill of sale on your furniture as security, buthe will give you a period of eighteen months to repay him, and he willcharge ten per cent. ; but if you agree to another condition, which Iwill explain, he will be content with five per cent. "

"This must be a severe condition, " said Mrs. Liddell, with a slightsmile. 

"No; it may prove a fortunate condition, " said the lawyer, with somehesitation. "In short, I have persuaded Mr. Liddell to allow me tochoose him a respectable servant at fair wages. The state into which hehas fallen is deplorable. I felt it my duty to remonstrate with him, andhe is not averse to my influence. I therefore pressed upon him thenecessity of having a better class of housekeeper, a person who couldread to him and write for him, and would be above drink and pilfering. "

"What did he say to that?" asked Katherine, with a bright, amused look. 

"He said, very decidedly: 'I will have that girl you say is my niece tobe my housekeeper and reader. She gave me the best and cheapest dinner Iever ate; her letter to my stock-broker brought me luck; and I will payready money for everything, so she shall not be able to leave booksunpaid. If she comes I will be content with five per cent, on the loan, which must do instead of salary; and if she refuses, why, so do I. ' Anungracious speech, Mrs. Liddell, but there is the condition. "

"Do you mean my brother-in-law will refuse to help me if my daughterdoes not go to manage his house?"

"So he says. "

"But did you not say at first that he would take ten per cent, withoutthis sacrifice?"

"_He_ said so at first; then this plan seemed to strike him, and he wasvery firm about it. "

"It is an awful place to go to. " The words burst from Katherine's lipsbefore she could stop herself. 

"I can hardly agree to such a condition as this, " cried Mrs. Liddell. 

"And I must urge you not to reject it, " said Mr. Newton, impressively, "for the sake of your daughter and grandsons. I must point out that byrefusing you not only deprive yourself of the temporary aid yourequire, but you cut off your daughter from all chance of winningover her uncle by the influence of her presence. Propinquity, my dearmadam--propinquity sometimes works wonders; and Mr. Liddell has a greatdeal in his power. I would not encourage false hopes, but this is achance you may never have again--a chance of sharing her uncle'sfortune. If she refuses, he will never see her again. "

Silence ensued. The choice was a grave difficulty. Mrs. Liddell lookedat Katherine, and Katherine looked at the carpet. 

Suddenly Katherine looked up quickly, and said, in a clear, decidedvoice: "I will go. I will undertake the office of secretary andhousekeeper--at least until my mother pays off this loan. "

"Katie, my child, how shall you be able to bear it?"

"Miss Liddell has decided wisely and well, " said the lawyer. "Iearnestly hope--nay, I believe--she will reap a rich reward for herself-sacrifice. "

"But, Mr. Newton, I cannot consent without some reflection. I too havesome conditions to impose. "

"And they are?" put in Newton, uneasily. 

"I cannot define them all clearly on the spur of the moment; but I musthave leave to go and see my daughter whenever I choose, and she musthave the right to spend one day in the week at home. "

"This might be arranged, " said the lawyer, thoughtfully. "Be brave, mydear madam. Sacrifice something of the present to secure future good. "

"Provided we do not pay too high a price for a doubtful benefit. It willbe terrible for a young girl to be the bond-slave of such a man as JohnLiddell. "

"Well, mother, I am quite willing to undertake the task. Not that I amgoing to be a bond-slave, but as soon as you have paid your debt, Ishall consider myself free. "

"By that time, my dear young lady, I hope you will have made yourself ofso much importance to your uncle that he will make it worth your whileto stay, " exclaimed Newton, who was evidently actuated by a friendlyfeeling toward both mother and daughter. 

"He must bribe high, then, " returned Kate, laughing. 

"Then may I inform Mr. Liddell that you accept his proposition? and youare prepared to begin your duties at once! Remember he considers hisacceptance of five instead of ten per cent, frees him from the necessityof paying you any salary. "

"Surely the laborer is worthy of his hire, " said Mrs. Liddell. 

"No doubt of it, madam; but the case is a peculiar one. "

Some more particulars were discussed and arranged; Mr. Newton beggedMrs. Liddell to look out for and select a servant, that Katherine mightbegin with some prospect of comfort. It was settled that an interviewshould be arranged between Mrs. Liddell and her brother-in-law on theday but one following, at which Mr. Newton was to assist, Finally shesigned a paper, and received six lovely new crisp bank-notes, the magictouch of which has so marvellously reviving an effect. 

Katherine slipped her arm through her mother's and pressed it lovinglyas they walked to the Metropolitan station for their return journey. "Now, dear, you will have a little peace, " she said. 

"Dear-bought peace, my darling. I cannot reconcile myself to such a fatefor you. "

"Still, the money is a comfort. "

"It is indeed. I will pay the rent to-day, and to-morrow I will give Adaher money. That will be an infinite relief. And still I shall have a fewpounds left. Katie dear, is it not too dreadful, the prospect of eating, drinking, sleeping, and beginning _di nuovo_ each morning in that gloomyhouse? How shall you bear it?"

"You shall see. If I can have a little chat with you every week I shallbe able for a good deal. Then, remember, the book still remains. Whenthat succeeds we may snap our fingers at rich uncles. "

"When that time comes, " interrupted her mother, "you will be tied to thepoor old miser by habit and the subtle claims which pity andcomprehension weave round the sympathetic. "

"Oh, if I ever grow to like him it will simplify matters very much. Ialmost hope I may, but it is not likely. How strange it will be to livein a different house from you! How dreadfully the boys will tease youwhen I am away! Come; suppose we go and see the _Cheerful Visitor_--theeditor, I mean--before we return, and then we can say we _have_ been toa publisher. I really do not think Ada knows the difference between aneditor and a publisher. "

"Very likely; nor would you, probably, if you had not a mother whoscribbles weak fiction. "

"It is a great deal better than much that is published and paid for, "said Katherine, emphatically. 

"Ah! Kate, when money has long been scarce you get into a bad habit ofestimating things merely at their market value. However, let us visitthe _Cheerful Visitor_ on our homeward way. Of course we must tell Adaof the impending change, but we need not explain too much. "

The journey back was less silent. Both mother and daughter wereoppressed by the task undertaken by the latter. But Katherine wassuccessful in concealing the dismay with which she contemplated aresidence with John Liddell. "Whatever happens, I must not seem afraidof him or _be_ afraid of him, " she thought, with instinctive perception. "I will try to do what is just and right, and leave the rest toProvidence. It must be a great comfort to have faith--to believe that ifyou do the right thing you will be directed and assisted by God. Whatstrength it would give! But I haven't faith. I cannot believe thatnatural laws will ever be changed for me, and I _know_ that good, honest, industrious creatures die of hunger every day. No matter. Dorightly, come what may, is the motto of every true soul. I don'tsuppose I shall melt this old man's stony heart, but I will do my bestfor him. His has been a miserable life in spite of his money. There isso much money cannot buy!"

"How dreadfully late you are!" said Mrs. Frederic, querulously, whenthey reached home. "I really could not keep the children waiting foryou, so we have finished dinner; but Maria is keeping the mutton as hotas she can for you. Dear me! how sick I am of roast mutton! but Isuppose it is cheap"--contemptuously. 

"Poor dear! it shall have something nice to-morrow, " returned Mrs. Liddell, with her usual strong good temper. 

"I suppose you are too tired, Katherine, to come with me. The band playsin Kensington Gardens to-day, and I wanted so much to go and hear it. "

"I am indeed! Besides, mother has a great deal to tell you when we havehad some dinner. "

"Oh, indeed! Has your book been accepted, Mrs. Liddell? or has thatterrible uncle of ours declared Katherine to be his heiress?"

"Have a little patience, and you shall hear everything. "

"I am dying of curiosity and impatience. Here, Sarah, _do_ bring updinner--Mrs. Liddell is so hungry!"

The announcement that Katherine was invited to live with John Liddellcreated a tornado of amazement, envy, anticipation--with an undercurrentof exultant pride that they were at last recognized by the only rich manin the family--in the mind of the pretty, impressionable little widow. 

"Gracious! What a grand thing for Kate! But she will be moped to death, and he will starve her. Why, Katherine, when it is known that amillionaire has adopted you his den will be besieged by your admirers. You will never be able to stand such a life for long at a time. SupposeI relieve guard every fortnight? You must let me have my innings too. Old gentlemen always like me, I am so cheerful. Then I might have theboys to see him; you know he ought to divide the property between us. "

"Of course he ought. I wish he would have us alternately; it would be agreat relief, " said Katherine, laughing. 

"I fancy he is _im_-mensely rich, " continued Ada. "Why, Mr. Erringtonevidently knew his name. "

"Who is Mr. Errington?" asked Mrs. Liddell, with languid curiosity. 

"Did you never hear of the Calcutta Erringtons?" cried Ada, withinfinite superiority. "There are as rich as Jews, and one of thegreatest houses in India. Old Mr. Errington bought a fine place in thecountry lately, and this young man--I'm sure I don't know if he _is_young; he is as grave as a judge and as stiff as a poker--at all eventshe is an only son. I met him at the Burnett's yesterday. Well, he seemedto know Mr. Liddell's name quite well. Colonel Ormonde pricked up hisears too when I said you had gone to see him. It is a great advantage tohave a rich old bachelor uncle, Katherine, but you must not keep him allto yourself. "

The next few days were agitated and much occupied. Katherine went forpart of each to read and write and market for the old recluse, and hegrew less formidable, but not more likable, as he became more familiar. He was an extraordinary example of a human being converted into amoney-making and accumulating machine. He was not especially irritable;indeed his physical powers were weak and dying of every species ofstarvation; but his coldness was supernatural. Fortunately forKatherine, his former housekeeper was greedy and extravagant, so thathis niece's management seemed wise and economical, and she had anexcellent backer-up in Mr. Newton. 

The old miser was with difficulty persuaded to see his sister-in-law;but Mrs. Liddell insisted on an interview, and Mr. Newton himselfsupported her through the trying ordeal. 

The mother's heart sank within her at she sight of the gloomy, desolateabode in which her bright daughter was to be immured; but she comfortedherself by reflecting that it need not be for long. 

Mr. Liddell did not rise from the easy-chair in which he sat crouchedtogether, his thin gray locks escaping as usual from under theskull-cap, his long lean brown hands grasping the arms of his chair, when Mrs. Liddell came in; neither did he hold out his hand. He lookedat her fixedly with his glittering dark eyes. 

"You wanted to see me?" he said. "Why?"

"Because I thought it right to see and speak with you before committingmy only child to your keeping. "

"But you have done it!--She has agreed to the conditions, has'nt she?"turning to Newton. "If you go back, I must have my money back. "

"Of course, my dear sir--of course, " soothingly. 

"I am glad that Katherine can be of use to you. I do not wish to retractanything I have agreed to, but I wish to remind you that my child isyoung; that you must let her go in and out, and have opportunities forair and exercise. "

"She may do as she likes; she can do anything. So long as she reads tome, and buys my food without wasting my money, _I_ don't want hercompany. She seems to know something of the value of money, and I'llkeep her in pledge till you have paid me. I'll never let myself becheated again, as I was by your worthless husband. "

"Let the dead rest, " said Mrs. Liddell, sadly. "I have paid you what Icould. "

"Ay, the principal--the bare principal. What is that? Do men lend forthe love of lending?" he returned, viciously. 

"Pray do not vex yourself. It is useless to look back--annoying anduseless, " said the lawyer, with decision. 

"Useless indeed! What more have you to say?"

"I should like to see the room my daughter is to occupy. It is as wellshe should have the comforts necessary to health, for all our sakes. _You_ will not find one who will serve you as Katherine can, even for ahigh price. I think you feel this yourself, " said Mrs. Liddell, steadily. 

"You may go where you like, but do not trouble me. You can come and seeyour daughter, but _I_ shall not want to see you; and she may go and seeyou of a Sunday, when there are no newspapers to be read; but, mark youI will not pay for carriages or horses or omnibuses; and mark also thatI have made my will, and I'll not alter it in any one's favor. Yourdaughter will have her food and lodging and my countenance andprotection. "

"She has done without these for nineteen years, " said Mrs. Liddell, witha slight smile. "But you have given me very opportune help, for which Iam grateful; so I have accepted your terms. Kate shall stay with youtill I have paid you principal and interest, and then _I_ warn you Ishall reclaim my hostage. "

"She'll be a good while with me, " he said, with a sneer. "None ofyou--you, your husband, or your son--ever had thirty pounds to spare inyour lives. "

"Time will show, " returned Mrs. Liddell, with admirable steadiness andtemper. "Now I will bid you good-day, and take advantage of yourpermission to look over your house. "

"Let me show you the way, " said Newton. "I shall return to youpresently, Mr. Liddell. "

The old man bent his head. "See that the girl comes to-morrow, " he said, and leaned back wearily in his chair. 

The friendly lawyer led the way upstairs, and showed Mrs. Liddell alarge room, half bed, half sitting, with plenty of heavy old-fashionedfurniture. "This was, I think, the drawing-room, " said Mr. Newton; "andhaving extracted permission from my very peculiar client to have thehouse cleaned, so far as it could be done, which it sorely needed, theperson I employed selected the best of the furniture for this room. Wepropose to give the next room at the back to the servant. You have, Ibelieve, found one?"

"Yes, a respectable elderly woman, of whom I have had an excellentcharacter. "

After Mrs. Liddell had visited the rooms upstairs--mere dismantledreceptacles of rubbish--and they returned to what was to be Katherine'sabode, she sat down on the ponderous sofa, and in spite of her effortsto control herself the tears would well up and roll over. 

"I feel quite ashamed of myself, " said she, in a broken voice; "but whenI think of my Katie, here alone, with that cruel old man, it is too muchfor my strength. She has been so tenderly reared, her life, though quietand humble, has been so cared for, so tranquil, that I shrink from theidea of her banishment here. "

"It is not unnatural, my dear madam, but indeed the trial is worthenduring. Do not believe that the will of which Mr. Liddell speaks isirrevocable. He has made two or three to my certain knowledge, and itwould be foolish to cut your daughter off from, any chance of sharinghis fortune, which is considerable, I assure you, merely to avoid alittle present annoyance. "

"It would indeed. Do not think me very weak. It is a passing fit of thedolefuls. I have had much anxiety of late, and for the moment I have apainful feeling that I have sold myself and my dear daughter into thehands of a relentless creditor; that I shall never free my neck from hisyoke. I shall probably feel differently to-morrow. "

"I dare say you will. You are a lady of much imagination; a writer, yourdaughter tells me. Such an occupation should be an outlet for allimaginative terrors or anticipations, and leave your mind, yourjudgment, clear and free. I am sure Miss Liddell will do her uncle andherself good by her residence here. Mr. Liddell has been a source ofanxiety to me and to my partners. We have, you know, been his legaladvisers for years, and to know that he is in good hands will be a greatrelief. Rely on my--on our doing our best to assist your daughter inevery way. "

Mrs. Liddell, perceiving the friendly spirit which actuated the preciselawyer, thanked him warmly, and after a little further discussion ofdetails, took her way home. 

From the step she had voluntarily taken there was no retreat, nor, to doher justice, was Katherine Liddell in the least disposed to turn back, having once put her hand to the plough. Indeed the blessedcastle-building powers of youth disposed her to rear airy edifices asregarded the future, which lightened the present gloom. Suppose JohnLiddell were to soften toward her, and make her a handsome presentoccasionally, or forgive this debt to her mother? What a delightfulreward this would be for her temporary servitude! But though Katherinereally amused herself with such fancies, they never crystallized intohope. Hope still played round her mother's chance of success with thepublishers. Not that she fancied her dear mother a genius; on thecontrary, because she _was_ her mother, she probably undervalued herwork; but she knew that hundreds of stories printed and paid for lackedthe common-sense and humor of Mrs. Liddell's. 

How ardently she longed to give her mother something of a rest after theburden and heat of the day, which she had borne so well and so long--aspell of peaceful twilight before the gray shadows of everlastingdarkness closed, or the brightness of eternal light broke upon her! Yes, she would stand four-square against the steely terrors of John Liddell'scold egotism and penuriousness, against the desolation and gloom of hisforbidding abode, the crushing sordidness of an existence reduced to themerest straws of sustenance, provided she could lighten her mother'sload--perhaps secure her future ease; and she would do her task well, thoroughly, keeping a steady heart and a bright face. Then, should thetide ever turn, what deep draughts of pleasure she would drink!Katherine was not socially ambitious; finery and grandeur as such didnot attract her; but real joys, beauty and gayety, the company ofpleasant people, _i. E. _ people who suited _her_, graceful surroundings, becoming clothes, and plenty of them, all were dear and delightful toher. 

Some of these things she had tasted when she lived with her mother inthe German and Italian towns where she had been chiefly educated; therest she was satisfied to imagine. Above all, she loved to charm thosewith whom she associated--loved it in a half-unconscious way. Were it toa poor blind beggar woman, or a little crossing sweeper, she would speakas gently and modulate her voice as carefully as to the most brilliantpartner or the greatest lady. This might be tenderness of nature, or theprofound instinct to win liking and admiration. As yet it was quiteinstinctive; but if hurt or offended she could feel resentment veryvividly, and was by no means too ready to forgive. 

Unfortunately she started with a strong prejudice against her uncle, andsometimes rehearsed in her own mind exceedingly fine speeches which shewould have liked to address to her miserly relative on the subject ofhis cruelty to his son, his avarice, his egotism. 

Still a strain of pity ran through her meditations. Was life worthliving, spent as his was? How far had his nature been warped by hiswife's desertion?

It was an extraordinary experience to Katherine, this packing up of herbelongings to quit her home. She took as little as she could help, tokeep up the idea that she was entering on a very temporary engagement;besides, as she meant to adhere rigidly to her right of a weekly visitto her mother, she could always get what she wanted. 

After Mrs. Liddell, Katherine found it hardest to part with the boys, specially little Charlie, whose guardian and champion she hadconstituted herself. Her sister-in-law had rather an irritating effectupon her, of which she was a little ashamed, and whenever she had spokensharply, which she did occasionally, she was ready to atone for it bydoing some extra service, so that, on the whole, the pretty little widowgot a good deal more out of her sister than out of her mother-in-law. 

But meditations, resolutions, regrets, and preparations notwithstanding, the day of Katherine's departure arrived. It was a bright, glowingafternoon, and the Thursday fixed for the boating party. Mrs. Liddelljunior had expended much eloquence to no purpose, as she well knew itwould be, in trying to persuade her sister-in-law to postpone thecommencement of what the little widow was pleased to call her "penalservitude, " and accompany her to Twickenham. 

She departed, however, without her, looking her very best, and utteringmany promises to come and see Katie soon, to try her powers of pleasingon that dreadful old uncle of ours, to bring the dear boys, and see ifthey would not cut out their aunty, etc. 

Mrs. Liddell and her daughter were most thankful to have the last fewhours together, and yet they said little, and that chiefly respectingpast days which they had enjoyed together--little excursions on the Elbeor in the neighborhood of Florence; a couple of months once passed atSiena, which was a mental epoch to Katherine, who was then aboutfifteen; promises to write; and tender queries on the mother's side ifshe had remembered this or that. 

The little boys clung to her, Charlie in tears, Cecil very solemn. Bothhad taken up the sort of camera-obscura image of their elders' viewswhich children contrive to obtain so mysteriously without hearinganything distinct concerning them, and both considered "Uncle John" asort of modern ogre, only restrained by the policeman outside frommaking a daily meal of the nearest infant school, and sure to gobble upaunty some day. Charlie trembled at the thought; Cecil ponderedprofoundly how, by the judicious arrangement of a trap-door in themiddle of his room, he might carry out the original idea of Jack theGiant-Killer. 

"Pray don't think of coming with me, mother, " said Katherine, seeingMrs. Liddell take out her bonnet. "I could not bear to think of yourlonely drive back. Trust me to myself. I am not going to be eitherfrightened or cast down, and I will write to-morrow. "

"Then I must let you go, darling! On Sunday next, Katie, we shall seeyou. "

A long, fond embrace, and Mrs. Liddell was indeed alone. 

CHAPTER VI. 

"SHIFTING SCENES. "

Parting is often worst to those who stay behind. Imagination paints thetrials and difficulties of the one who has put out to sea as far worsethan the reality, while variety and action brace the spirit of him whogoes forth. 

Katherine's reception, however, was paralyzing enough. 

Nothing was in her favor save the mellow brightness of the fine warmevening, though from its south-east aspect the parlor at LegraveCrescent was already in shadow. There, in his usual seat beside thefire--for, though a miser, John Liddell had a fire summer andwinter--sat the old man watching the embers, in himself a livingrefrigerator. 

"You are late!" was his greeting, in a low, cold voice. "I have beenexpecting you. The woman Newton found for me has been up and down with adozen questions I cannot answer. I must be saved from this; I will notbe disturbed. Go and see what she wants; then, if there is more food tobe cooked, come to me for money. Mark! no more bills. I will give youwhat cash you want each day, so long as you do not ask too much. "

"Very well. Your fire wants making up, uncle. " She brought out this lastword with an effort. "I suppose I _am_ to call you uncle?"

"Call me what you choose, " was the ungracious reply. 

In the hall she found the new servant, whom she had already seen, waiting her orders. She was a stout, good-humored woman of a certainage, with vast experience, gathered in many services, and partly temptedto her present engagement by the hope that in so small a household herlabor would be light. 

"Will you come up, miss, and see if your room is as you like it?" washer first address. "I'm sure I _am_ glad you have come! I've beengroping in the dark, in a manner of speaking, since I came yesterday;and Mr. Liddell, he's not to be spoke to. Believe me, miss, if it wasn'tthat I promised your mar, and saw you was a nice young lady yourself, wild horses wouldn't keep me in such a lonesome barrack of a place!"

"I hope you will not desert us, Mrs. Knapp, " returned Katherine, cheerfully. "If you and I do our best, I hope the place will not be sobad. "

"Well, it didn't ought to, " returned Mrs. Knapp. "There's lots of goodfurniture everywhere but in the kitchen, and that's just for all theworld like a marine store!"

"Is it?" exclaimed Katherine, greatly puzzled by the metaphor. "At allevents you have made my room nice and tidy. " This conversation, commenced on the staircase, was continued in Katherine's apartment. 

"It ain't bad, miss; there's plenty of room for your clothes in that bigwardrobe, and there's a chest of drawers; but Lord, 'm, they smell thatmusty, I've stood them open all last night and this morning, but theyain't much the better. I didn't like to ask for the key of the bookcase, but I can see through the glass the books are just coated with dust, "said Mrs. Knapp. 

"We must manage all that by-and-by, " said Katherine. "Have you anythingin the house? I suppose my uncle will want some dinner. "

"I gave him a filleted sole with white sauce, and a custard pudding, attwo o'clock, and he said he wanted nothing more. I had no end of troublein getting half a crown out of him, and he had the change. If thegentleman as I saw with your mar, miss, hadn't given me five shillings, I don't know where I should be. "

"I will ask my uncle what he would like for dinner or supper, and cometo you in the kitchen afterward. "

Such was Katherine's inauguration. 

She soon found ample occupation. Not a day passed without a battle overpennies and half-pennies. Liddell gave her each morning a small sumwherewith to go to market; he expected her to return straight to him andaccount rigidly for every farthing she had laid out, to enter all in abook which he kept, and to give him the exact change. These earlyexpeditions into the fresh air among the busy, friendly shopkeepers sooncame to be the best bit of Katherine's day, and most useful in keepingup the healthy tone of her mind. Then came a spell of reading from the_Times_ and other papers. Every word connected with the funds and moneymatters generally, even such morsels of politics as effected the pulseof finance, was eagerly listened to; of other topics Mr. Liddell did notcare to hear. A few letters to solicitor or stock-broker, some entriesin a general account-book, and the forenoon was gone. Friends, interests, regard for life in any of its various aspects, all werenonexistent for Liddell. Money was his only thought, his soleaspiration--to accumulate, for no object. This miserliness had grownupon him since he had lost both wife and son. Fortunately for Katherine, his ideas of expenditure had been fixed by the comparatively liberalstandard of his late cook. When, therefore, he found he had greatercomfort at slightly less cost he was satisfied. 

But his satisfaction did not prompt him to express it. His nearestapproach to approval was not finding fault. 

In vain Katherine endeavored to interest him in some of the subjectstreated of in the papers. He was deaf to every topic that did not bearon his self-interest. 

"There is a curious account here of the state of labor in Manchester andBirmingham; shall I read it to you?" asked Katherine, one morning, aftershe had toiled through the share list and city article. She had beenabout a fortnight installed in her uncle's house. 

"No!" he returned; "what is labor to me? We have each our own work todo. "

"But is there nothing else you would care to hear, uncle?" She had grownmore accustomed to him, and he to her; in spite of herself, she wasanxious to cheer his dull days--to awaken something of human feeling inthe old automaton. 

"Nothing! Why should I care for what does not concern me? You only carefor what touches yourself; but because you are young, and your bloodruns quick, many things touch you. "

"Did you ever care for anything except--except--" Katherine pulledherself up. The words "your money" were on her lips. 

"I cannot remember, and I do not wish to look back. I suppose, now, youwould like to be driving about in a fine carriage, with a bonnet andfeathers on your head. I suppose you are wishing me dead, and yourselffree to run away from your daily tasks in this quiet house, to listen tothe lying tongue of some soft-spoken scoundrel, as foolish women will;but the longer I live the better for _you_, till your mother's debt ispaid, or my executors will give her a short shrift and scant time. "

"I don't want you to die, Uncle Liddell, " said Katherine, with simplesincerity, "but I wish there was anything I could do to interest you oramuse you. I am sorry to see you so dull. Why, you are obliged to sleepall the afternoon!"

"Amuse _me_?" he returned, with infinite scorn. "You need not troubleyourself. I have thoughts which occupy me of which you have no idea, andthen I pass from thoughts to dreams--grand dreams!"--he paused for amoment. "Where is that pile of papers that lay on the chair there?" heresumed, sharply. 

"I have taken them away upstairs; when I have collected some more I amgoing to sell them. My mother always sells her waste paper--one may aswell have a few pence for them. "

"Did you mother say so?" with some animation--then another pause. "Areyou going to see her on Sunday?"

"Not next Sunday, " returned Katherine, quite pleased to draw him intoconversation. "You know we must let Mrs. Knapp go out every alternateSunday, and you cannot be left alone. "

"Why not? Am I an imbecile? Am I dying? I can tell you I have years oflife before me yet. "

"I dare say; still, it is my duty to stay here in case you wantanything. But I shall go home on Saturday afternoon instead, if you haveno objection. "

"You would not heed my objections if I had any. You are self-willed, youare resolute. I see things when I care to look. There, I am very tired!You will find some newspapers in my room; you can add them to theothers. How soon will dinner be ready?" Katherine felt herselfdismissed. 

The afternoons were much at her own disposal; and as she found a numberof old books, some of which greatly interested her, she managed toaccomplish a good deal of reading, and even did a little dreaming. Still, though time seemed to go so slowly, the weeks, on looking back, had flown fast. 

The monotony was terrible; but a break was at hand which was not quiteunexpected. 

The day following the above conversation, Katherine had retired as usualafter dinner to write to a German friend with whom she kept up adesultory correspondence; the day was warm, and her door being open, theunwonted sound of the front door-bell startled her. 

"Who could it possibly be?" asked Katherine of herself. The next minutea familiar voice struck her ear, and she quickly descended to the frontparlor. 

There an appalling sight met her eyes. In the centre of the room, herback to the door, stood Mrs. Fred Liddell, a little boy in eitherhand--all three most carefully attired in their best garments, andmaking quite a pretty group. 

Facing them, Mr. Liddell sat upright in his chair, his lean, claw-likehands grasping the arms, his eyes full of fierce astonishment. 

"You see, my dear sir, as you have never invited me, I have ventured tocome unasked to make your acquaintance, and to introduce my dear boys toyou; for it is possible you have sent me a message by Katherine whichshe has forgotten to deliver; so I thought--" Thus far the pretty littlewidow had proceeded when the children, catching sight of their auntie, sprang upon her with a cry of delight. 

"Who--who is this?" asked Mr. Liddell, compressing his thin lips andhissing out the words. 

"My brother's widow, Mrs. Fred Liddell, " returned Katherine, who waskissing and fondling her nephews. 

"Did you invite her to come here?"

"No, uncle. "

"Then explain to her that I do not receive visitors, especiallyrelations, who have no claims upon me, and--and I particularly object tochildren. "

"I shall take my sister-in-law to my room for a little rest, " returnedKatherine, wounded by his manner, though greatly vexed with Ada forcoming. 

"Ay, do, anywhere you like. "

But Mrs. Fred made a gallant attempt to stand her ground. 

"My dear sir, you must not be so unkind as to turn me out, when I havetaken the trouble to come all this way on purpose to make youracquaintance. Let Katherine take away the children by all means--somepeople _are_ worried with children--but let _me_ stay and have a littletalk with you. "

Mr. Liddell's only reply was to rise up. Gaunt, bent, his gray locksquivering with annoyance, and leaning on his stick, he slowly walked tothe door, his eyes fixed with a cold glare on the intruder. At the doorhe turned, and addressing Katherine, said, "Let me know when she isgone;" then he disappeared into the hall. 

Little Charlie burst into tears. Cecil cried out, "You are a nasty, cross old man"; while Mrs. Fred grew very red, and exclaimed: "I neversaw such a bear in all my life! Why, a crossing-sweeper would havebetter manners! I am astonished at you, Katie. How can you live withsuch a creature? But _some_ people would do anything for money. "

"I am dreadfully sorry, " said Katherine; "do come up to my room. If youhad only told me you were coming I should have advised you against it. You must rest a while in my room. "

"I really do not think I will sit down in this house after the way inwhich I have been treated, " said the irate widow, while she followed hersister-in-law upstairs. 

"Oh yes, do, mammy; I want to see the house, " implored Cecil. 

"Why did you not tell me what a dreadful man he is, Katherine, and Ishould not have put myself in the way of being insulted?"

"I think I told you enough to keep you away, Ada. What put it into yourhead to come?"

"I scarcely know. I always intended it, and Colonel Ormonde said it wasmy duty to let him, Mr. Liddell, see the boys. I really did not want tocome. "

"I wish Colonel Ormonde would mind his own affairs, " cried Katherine. "Ifancy he only talks for talking's sake. "

"That is all you know, " indignantly; "he is a very clever man of theworld, and I am fortunate in having such a friend to interest himself inme. "

"Oh, well, perhaps so. At all events, I am very glad to see the bays, and--you too, Ada. Charlie is very pale. Come here, Charlie. "

"Oh, auntie, is this your own, own room? Does the cross old man evercome here? Are all those books yours--and the funny little table withthe crooked legs? Who is the man in a wig?" cried Cecil. "Mightn't westay with you? we would be so quiet? Mother says we are _dreffully_troublesome since you went away. We could both sleep with you in thatgreat big bed! The cross old gentleman would never know. It would besuch fun! Do, do, let us stay, auntie!"

"But I am afraid of the old gentleman, " whispered the younger boy. "Doeshe ever hurt you, auntie dear? I wish you would come home. "

"Charlie is such a coward, " said Cecil, with contempt. 

"Don't talk nonsense, children, " exclaimed their mother, peremptorily. "I should die of fright if I thought you were left behind with thatogre. _I_ wouldn't sacrifice my children for the sake of filthy lucre. "

"Do not talk nonsense, Ada?" said Katherine, impatiently. "I aminfinitely distressed that my uncle should have behaved so rudely, buthe is really eccentric, and if you had consulted--"

"He is the boys' uncle as well as yours, " interrupted Ada, indignantly. "Why should they not come and see him? How was I to suppose he was suchan unnatural monster?"

"I always told you he was very peculiar. "

"Peculiar! that is a delicate way of putting it. If I were you I shouldbe ashamed of wasting my time and my youth acting servant to an oldmiser who will not leave you a sou!"

"No, I don't suppose he will, " returned Katherine, quietly. "Still, I amnot the least ashamed of what I am doing; I am quite satisfied with myown motives. "

"Oh, you are always satisfied with yourself, I know, " was the angryanswer, "But"--with a slight change of tone--"I am sorry to see you lookso pale and ill, though you deserve it. "

"Never mind, Ada. Take off your bonnet and sit down. I will get you acup of tea. "

"Tea! no, certainly not! Do you think me so mean as to taste a mouthfulof food in this house after being ordered out of it?"

"Oh, I am _so_ hungry!" cried Cecil, in mournful tones. 

"You are a little cormorant: Grannie will give you nice tea when we gethome. Put on your gloves, children, I shall go at once. "

"Do come back with us, auntie, " implored the boys. "Grannie wants youever so much. "

"Not more than I want her, " returned Katherine. "How is she, Ada?"

"Oh, very well; just the same as usual. People who are not sensitivehave a great deal to be thankful for. _I_ feel quite upset by thisencounter with your amiable relative, so I will say good-by. "

"Oh, wait for me; I will come with you. Let me put on my hat and tellMr. Liddell I am going out. "

"Of course you must ask the master's leave!"

"Exactly, " returned Katherine, good-humoredly. And she put on her hatand gloves. 

"Well, I shall be glad of your guidance, for I hardly know my way backto where the omnibus starts. Such a horrible low part of the town for aman of fortune to live in! I wonder what Colonel Ormonde would say toit?"

"I am sure I don't know, " returned Kate, laughing. "Now come downstairs. If you go on I will speak to my uncle, and follow you. "

"I am sorry you have been annoyed, " said Katherine, when having tappedat the door, Mr. Liddell desired her to "come in. " He was standing at anold-fashioned bureau, the front of which let down to form a writing-deskand enclosed a number of various-sized drawers. He had taken out severalpackets of paper neatly tied with red tape and seemed to be rearrangingthem. 

"I am going to take my sister-in-law back to the omnibus; you may besure she will never intrude again. "

"She shall not, " he replied, turning to face her. Katherine thought howghastly pale and pinched he looked. "I see the sort of creature sheis--a doll that would sell her sawdust soul for finery and glitter; ay, and the lives of all who belong to her for an hour of pleasure. "

Katherine was shocked at his fierce, uncalled-for bitterness. 

"She has lived with us for more than a year and a half, and we havefound her very pleasant and kind. Her children are dear, sweet things. You should not judge her so harshly. "

"You are a greater fool than I took you for, " cried Mr. Liddell. "Gotake them away, and mind they do not come back. "

Katherine hastened after her visitors and led them by a more directroute than they had traversed in coming. It took them past a cake shop, where she spent one of her few sixpences in appeasing her nephews'appetite, which, at least, with Cecil, grew with what it fed upon, inthe matter of cakes. 

The children, each holding one of her hands, chattered away, tellingmany particulars of grannie and Jane, and the cat, to say nothing of amost interesting gardener who came to cut the grass. To all of whichKatherine lent a willing ear. How ardently she longed to be at home withthe dear mother again! She had never done half enough for her. Ah, ifthey only could be together again in Florence or Dresden as they used tobe!

Mrs. Fred Liddell kept almost complete silence--a very unusual case withher--and only as she paused before following her little boys into theomnibus did she give any clew to the current of her thoughts. "ShouldColonel Ormonde come on Saturday when you are with us--which is notlikely--do not say anything about that horrid old man's rudeness; onedoes not like to confess to being turned out. "

"Certainly not. I shall say nothing, you may be sure. "

"Good-by, then. I shall tell your mother you are looking _wretchedly_. "

"Pray do not, " cried Katherine, but the conductor's loud stamping on hisperch to start the driver drowned her voice. 

It was a fine evening, fresh, too, with a slight crispness, andKatherine could not resist the temptation of a walk in Regent's Park. She felt her spirits, which had been greatly depressed, somewhat revivedby the free air, the sight of grass and trees. Still she could notanswer the question which often tormented her, "If my mother cannot sellher book, how will it all end--must I remain as a hostage forever?" Itwas a gloomy outlook. 

She did not allow herself to stray far; crossing the foot-bridge overthe Regent's Canal, she turned down a street which led by a circuittoward her abode. It skirted Primrose Hill for a few yards, and as shepassed one of the gates admitting to the path which crosses it, agentleman came out, and after an instant's hesitation raised his hat. Katherine recognized the man who had rescued Cecil at Hyde Park Corner. She smiled and bowed, frankly pleased to meet him again; it was sorefreshing to see a bright, kindly face--a face, too, that looked gladto see her. 

"May I venture to inquire for my little friend?" said the gentleman, respectfully. "I trust he was not the worse for his adventure?"

"Not at all, thanks to your promptness, " said Katherine, pausing. "Ihave only just parted with him and his mother. She would have been veryglad of an opportunity to thank you. "

"So slight a service scarcely needs your thanks, " he said, in a soft, agreeable voice, as he turned and walked beside her. 

Katherine made no objection; she knew he was an acquaintance of ColonelOrmonde, and it was too pleasant a chance of speaking to a civilizedhuman being to be lost. Her new acquaintance was good-looking withoutbeing handsome, with a peculiarly happy expression, and honest, kindlylight-brown eyes. He was about middle height, but well set up, andcarried himself like a soldier. 

"Then your little charge does not live with you?" he asked. 

"Not now. I am staying with my uncle. Cecil lives with his mother andmine at Bayswater. "

"Indeed! I think my old friend, Colonel Ormonde, knows the younggentleman's mother. "

"He does. "

"Then, may I introduce myself to you? My name is Payne--Gilbert Payne. "

"Oh, indeed!" returned Katherine, with a vague idea that she ought notperhaps to walk with him, yet by no means inclined to dismiss a pleasantcompanion. 

"I fancy your young nephew is a somewhat rebellious subject. "

"He is sometimes very troublesome, but you cannot help liking him. "

"Exactly--a fine boy. What bewildering little animals children are! Theyought to teach us humility, they understand us so much better than weunderstand them. "

"I believe they do, but I never thought of it before. Have you littlebrothers and sisters who have taught you this?"

"No. I am the youngest of my family; but I am interested in a refuge forstreet children, and I learn much there. "

"That is very good of you, " said Katherine, looking earnestly at him. "Where is it--near this?"

"No; a long way off. There are plenty of such places in every direction. I have just come from a home for poor old women, childless widows, sickly spinsters, who cannot work, and have no one to work for them. Ifyou have any spare time, it would be a great kindness to go and read tothem now and then. The lees of such lives are often sad and tasteless. "

"I should be glad to help in any way, " said Katherine, coloring, "butjust now I belong (temporarily) to my uncle, who is old, and requires agood deal of reading--and care. "

"Ah, I see your work is cut out for you: that, of course, is your firstduty. "

The conversation then flowed on easily about street arabs and thevarious missions for rescuing them, about soldiers' homes, and otherkindred topics. Katherine was much interested, and taken out of herself;she was quite sorry when on approaching Legrave Crescent she feltobliged to pause, with the intention of dismissing him. He understood. "Do you live near this?" he asked. 

"Yes, quite near. "

"May I bring you some papers giving you an account of my poor oldwomen?"

"I should like so much to have them, " said Katherine. "But my uncle israther peculiar. He does not like to be disturbed; he does not likevisitors; he was vexed because my sister-in-law and the children cameto-day. "

"I understand, and will not intrude. But should you be able and willingto help these undertakings, Colonel Ormonde will always know my address. He honors me still with his friendship, though he thinks me amoon-struck idiot. "

"Because you are good. The folly is his, " said Katherine, warmly. Thenshe bowed, Mr. Payne lifted his hat again, and they parted, not to meetfor many a day. 

When Mrs. Knapp opened the door she looked rather grave, but Katherine'smind was so full of her encounter with Gilbert Payne that she did notnotice it, seeing which, Mrs. Knapp said, "I'm glad you have come in, miss. "

"Why?" with immediate apprehension. "Is my uncle ill?"

"He is not right, miss. I took him up his cup or tea and slice of drytoast about five, and he was lying back, as he often does, asleep, as Ithought, in the chair. I says, 'Here's your tea, sir, ' but he made noanswer, and I spoke again twice without making him hear; then I touchedhis hand; it was stone cold; so I got water and dabbed his brow, when hesat up all of a sudden, and swore at me for making him cold and dampwith my--I don't like to say the word--rags. Then he shivered and shooklike an aspen; but I made up the fire and popped a spoonful of brandy inhis tea--he never noticed. But he kept asking for you, miss. I think hedoesn't know he was bad. "

Katherine hastened to her uncle, greatly distressed at having beenabsent at the moment of need. In her eagerness she committed the mistakeof asking how he felt now, and received a tart reply. There was nothingthe matter with him, nothing unusual--only his old complaint, increasingyears and infirmity; still he was not to be treated like a helplessbaby. 

Katherine felt her error, and turned the subject; then, returning to it, begged him to see a doctor. This he refused sternly. Finally she hadrecourse to an article on the revenue in the paper, which soothed him, and she saw the old man totter off to bed with extreme uneasiness, yetnot daring even to suggest a night light, so irritable did he seem. 

Before she slept she wrote a brief account of what had occurred to Mr. Newton, and implored him to come and remonstrate with his client. 

CHAPTER VII. 

THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 

Katherine Liddell had never spent so uneasy a night, save when hermother had been ill. Her nerves were on the stretch, her ears painfullywatchful for the smallest sound. What if the desolate old man shouldpass away, alone and unaided, in the darkness of night! The sense ofresponsibility was almost too much for her. If she could have her motherat her side she would fear nothing. She was up early, thankful to seedaylight, and eager for Mrs. Knapp's report of her uncle. 

Generally the old man was afoot betimes, and despised the luxury of warmwater. This morning Mrs. Knapp had to knock at his door, as he was notmoving, and after a brief interview returned to inform Katherine thatMr. Liddell grumbled at her for being up too early, and on hearing thatit was half past eight, said she had better bring him a cup of tea. 

Katherine carried it to him herself. He took very little notice of her, but said he would get up presently and hear the papers read. 

When she came back with some jelly, for which she had sent to thenearest confectioner, he ate it without comment, and told her shemight go. 

It was a miserable morning, but about noon, to her great delight, she saw Mr. Newton opening the garden gate. She flew to admithim. 

"I am so thankful you have come!"

"How is Mr. Liddell?"

"He seems quite himself this morning, except that he is inclinedto stay in bed. "

"He must see a doctor, " said Mr. Newton, speaking in a lowvoice and turning into the parlor. "We must try and keep himalive and in his senses for every reason. I am glad he is still in bed;it will give me an excuse for urging him to take advice, for ofcourse I shall not mention your note. "

"No pray do not. He evidently does not like to be thought ill. "

"Pray how long have you been here--nearly a month? Yes, Ithought so. I cannot compliment you on your looks. How do youthink you have been getting on with our friend?"

"Not very well, I fear, " said Katherine, shaking her head. "Herarely speaks to me, except to give some order or ask some necessaryquestion. Yet he does not speak roughly or crossly, as he doesto Mrs. Knapp; and something I cannot define in his voice, even inhis cold eyes, tells me he is growing used to my presence, and thathe does not dislike it. "

"Well, I should think not, Miss Liddell, " said the precise lawyer, politely. "I trust time may be given to him to recognize the claimsof kindred and of merit. Pray ask him if he will see me, and in themean time please send a note to Dr. Brown--a very respectablepractitioner, who lives not far; ask him to come at once. I mustpersuade Mr. Liddell to see him, and if possible while I am present. "

The old man showed no surprise at Mr. Newton's presence; it wasalmost time for his monthly visit, and as he brought a small sum ofmoney with him, the result of some minor payments, he was verywelcome. 

Katherine, immensely relieved, sat trying to work in the frontparlor, but really watching for the doctor. Would her uncle seehim? and if not, ought she still to undertake the responsibility ofsuch a charge?

At last he arrived, a staid, thoughtful-looking man; and beforehe had time to do more than exchange a few words with her, Mr. Newton appeared and carried him off to see the patient. 

They seemed a long time gone; and when they returned the doctorwrote a prescription--a very simple tonic, he said. "What youruncle needs, Miss Liddell, " he said, "is constant nourishment. Heis exceedingly weak; the action of the heart is feeble, the wholesystem starved. You must get him to take all the food you can, andsome good wine--Burgundy if possible. He had better get up. There is really no organic disease, but he is very low. He ought tohave some one in his room at night. "

"It will be difficult to manage that, " said Mr. Newton. 

"I shall look in to-morrow about this time, " said the doctor, andhurried away. 

"How have you contrived to make him hear reason?" askedKatherine, eagerly. 

"I took the law into my own hands, for one thing, and I suggesteda powerful motive for living on. I reminded him that he andanother old gentleman are the only survivors in a 'Tontine, ' andthat he must try to outlive him. So the cost of doctor, medicine, etc. , etc. , ought to be considered as an investment. Do not fail toget him all possible nourishment. If he rebels, send for me. "

"I will indeed. I am almost afraid to stay here alone. Might Inot have my mother with me?"

"Do not think of it"--earnestly. "I was going to say that I believeyou are decidedly gaining on your uncle; but the intrusion ofMrs. Frederic Liddell yesterday was very unfortunate. My ratherpeculiar client is impressed with the idea that you invited her. "

"Indeed I did not!" cried Katherine. 

"I did not suppose you did, but her appearance seems to havegiven Mr. Liddell a shock. " Mr. Newton paused, and then askedin a slow tone, as if thinking hard, "What was your sister-in-law'smaiden name?"

"Sandford, " said Katherine. 

"Sandford? That is rather a curious coincidence. The late Mrs. John Liddell was a Miss Sandford. "

"Is she dead, then?"

"Yes; she died eight or nine years ago. "

"Could they have been related?"

"Possibly. Some likeness seems to have struck your uncle. "

There was a short silence, and Mr. Newton resumed. "I trustyou do not find your stay here too trying? I consider it very importantthat you should persevere, though it is only right to tell youthat Mr. Liddell has made a will--not a just one, in my opinion--andit is extremely unlikely he will ever change it. "

"That does not really affect me. Of course I should be very gladif he chose to leave anything to my mother or myself, but I shall domy best for him under any circumstances. Besides, I have a sortof desire to make him speak to me and like me--perhaps it is vanity--quiteapart from a sense of duty. He is so like a frozen man!"

"Try, try by all means, my dear young lady. "

"What I do not like is the hour or half hour after market. Thewolfish greed by which he clutches the change I bring back, theglare in his eyes, the fierce eagerness with which he asks the priceof everything--he is not human at such times, and I almost fearhim. "

"It is a dreadful picture, but perhaps the details may soften intime. "

"How shall I get money for all he wants?" asked Katherine, anxiously. 

"I shall impress upon Mr. Liddell the necessity of his case, andeven make out that the good things he requires cost more than theydo. I will beg him to allow me to supply the money during his indispositionand enter it in his account. Here, I will give you fivepounds while we are alone. "

"Thank you so much! You see I dare not get into debt. I will keep acareful account of all expenditure, and ask him--my uncle, I mean--notto give me any money, then there will be no confusion. 

"Very well. I will go back to him now. He will be almost ready to comein here. Write to me frequently. I shall try to look in to-morrow for afew minutes. "

Katherine stirred the fire, and placed a threadbare footstool before theinvalid's easy-chair, thanking Heaven in her heart for sending her suchan ally as the friendly lawyer. 

Then Mr. Liddell appeared, leaning on Newton's arm, and not looking muchworse than usual, Katherine thought. He took no notice of her until sheput the footstool under his feet; then, wonderful to relate, he lookeddown into her grave, kindly face and smiled, not bitterly or cynically, but as if, on the whole, pleased to see her. He seemed a littlebreathless, yet he soon began to speak to Newton as if in continuationof their previous conversation--"And is Fergusson really a year youngerthan I am?"

"Yes, quite a year, I should say, and he takes great care of himself. Ido not think he has really so good a constitution as you have, but hetakes everything that is strengthening--good wine, turtle soup, and I donot know what. "

"Ah, indeed!" returned Mr. Liddell, thoughtfully. 

"I have been explaining to Mr. Liddell, " said the lawyer, turning toKatherine, "that it would be well to let me give you the house-keepingmoney for the present, so that he need not be troubled about anythingexcept to get well; and when well, my dear sir, you really must go out. Fresh air--"

"Fresh fiddle-sticks, " interrupted the old man; "I have been well foryears without going out, and I'll not begin now. I'll give in toeverything else; only, if _I_ am obliged to take costly food as amedicine, I expect the rest of the household to live as carefully asever. "

"I shall do my best, uncle, " said Katherine, softly. 

After a little more conversation the lawyer took his leave, and thenKatherine applied herself to read the papers which had been neglected. 

It was not till toward evening she was able to write a few lines to hermother describing Mr. Liddell's illness, and begging she would come tosee her on Saturday, as she (Katherine) could not absent herself whileher uncle was so unwell. 

After this things went on much as usual, only Mr. Liddell never resumedhis habits of early rising; he was a shade less cold too, though attimes terribly irritable. 

He took the food prepared for him obediently enough, but with evidentwant of appetite, rarely finishing what was provided. 

Mr. Newton generally called every week, and Katherine wrote to himbesides; she was strict in insisting on the audit of her accounts, whichthe accurate lawyer sometimes praised. By judicious accounts ofFergusson, the other surviving member of the Tontine, he managed to keephis client in tolerable order. Katherine, though grateful to him for hisfriendly help, little knew how strenuously he strove to lengthen the oldmiser's days, hoping he would make some provision for his niece, whilehe dared not offer any suggestion on the subject, lest it shouldproduce an effect contrary to what he desired. 

Mrs. Fred Liddell was bitterly disappointed by the result of her visitto the rich uncle. A good deal, indeed, hung upon it. A wealthysuccession was certainly a thing to be devoutly wished for in itself, but the sharp little widow felt that provision for her boys and a dowryfor herself meant marriage, _if_ she chose, with Colonel Ormonde. 

And she very decidedly did wish it. Her imagination, which was vividenough of its kind, was captivated by the Colonel's imposing "bow-wow"manner, the idea of a country place--an old family place too--by hisdiamond ring and florid compliments, his self-satisfied fastidiousnessand his social position. In short, to her he seemed a fashionable hero;but she was quite sure he never would hamper himself with two littleportionless boys. Ada Liddell was by no means unkind to her children;she was ready to pet them when they met, and give them what did not costher too much; but she considered them a terrible disadvantage, andherself a most generous and devoted mother. 

The day after she had been so ignominiously expelled from John Liddell'shouse she put on the prettiest thing she possessed in the way of abonnet--a contrivance of black lace and violets--and having inspectedthe turn-out of the children's maid in her best go-to-meeting attire, also the putting on of the boys' newest sailor suits, the curling oftheir hair, and many minor details, she sallied forth across KensingtonGardens to the ride, feeling tolerably sure that, in consequence of ahint she had dropped a day or two before, when taking afternoon tea inMrs. Burnett's drawing-room, Colonel Ormonde would probably be amongstthe riders on his powerful chestnut, ready to receive her report. Shewas quite sure he was very much smitten, and eager to know what herchances with old Liddell might be; and as her mother-in-law had a badhabit of presiding over her own tea-table, it would be more convenientto talk with her gay Lothario in the Park. 

Many admiring glances were cast upon the pretty little woman in becominghalf-mourning, with the two golden-haired, sweet-looking children andtheir trim maid, which did not escape their object, and put her intoexcellent spirits. She felt she had gone forth conquering and toconquer. About half-way down the row she recognized a well-known figureon a mighty horse, who cantered up to where she stood, followed by agroom. 

"Good-morning, Mrs. Liddell; I thought this piece of fine weather wouldtempt you out, " cried Colonel Ormonde, dismounting and throwing his reinto the groom, who led away the horse as if in obedience to somepreviously given command. "I protest you are a most tantalizing littlewoman!" he exclaimed, when they had shaken hands and he had patted thechildren's heads. "I have been looking for you this half-hour. Where didyou hide yourself?"

"I did not hide myself. I am dying to tell you about my uncle. "

"Ah! was he all your prophetic soul painted him?"

"He was, and a good deal more. He is quite an ogre, and lives in amiserable hovel. How Katherine can degrade herself by grovelling therewith him for the sake of what she can get passes my understanding. "

"Deuced plucky, sensible girl! She is quite right to stick to the oldboy. Hope she will get his cash. Gad! with her eyes and _his_ thousands, she'd rouse up society!"

"Well, I believe she intends to have them all. She was quite vexed at mygoing over to see the ogre, and I think has prejudiced him against mypoor darling boys, for as soon as he saw them he called out that hecould not receive any one, that he was ill and nervous. But I smiled myvery best smile, and said I had come to introduce myself, and I hoped hewould let me have a little talk with him. The poor old ogre looked at merather kindly and earnestly when I said that, and I really do think hewould have listened to me, but my sister-in-law would make me come away, as if the sight of me was enough to frighten a horse from his oats; sosomehow we got hustled upstairs, and there was an end of it. "

"Ah, Mrs. Liddell, you ought not to have allowed yourself to beoutmanoeuvred, " cried the Colonel, who greatly enjoyed irritating hispretty little friend. "Your _belle-soeur_ (as she really is) is toomany for you. Don't you give up; try again when the adorable Katherineis out of the way. "

"I fully intend to do so, I assure you, " cried Mrs. Frederic, her eyessparkling, her heart beating with vexation, but determined to keep upthe illusion of ingratiating herself with the miserly uncle. "Prayremember this is only a first attempt. "

"I am sure you have my devout wishes for your success. How this wretchedold hunk can resist such eyes, such a smile, as yours, is beyond mycomprehension. If such a niece attacked _me_, I should surrender at thefirst demand. "

"I don't think you would"--a little tartly. "I think you have as keen aregard for your own interest as most men. "

"I am sure you would despise me if I had not, and the idea of beingdespised by you is intolerable. "

"You know I do not"--very softly. "But it is time I turned and wenttoward home. "

"Nonsense, my dear Mrs. Liddell! or, if you will turn, let it be roundKensington Gardens. Do you know, I am going to Scotland next week, toSir Ralph's moor; then I expect a party to meet Errington at my ownplace early in September; so I shall not have many chances of seeing youuntil I run up just before Christmas. Now I am going to ask a greatfavor. It's so hard to get a word with you except under the Argus eyesof that mother-in-law of yours. "

"What can it be?" opening her eyes. 

"Come with me to see this play they have been giving at the Adelphi. Ihave never had a spare evening to see it. We'll leave early, and have asnug little supper at Verey's, and I'll see you home. "

"It would be delightful, but out of the question, I am afraid: Mrs. Liddell has such severe ideas, and I dare not offend her. "

"Why need she know anything about it? Say--oh, anything--that you aregoing with the Burnetts: they have gone to the Italian lakes, but Idon't suppose she knows. "

The temptation was great, but the little widow was no fool in some ways. She saw her way to make something of an impression on her worldlyadmirer. 

"No, Colonel Ormonde, " she said, shaking her head, while she permittedthe "suspicious moisture" to gather in her eyes. "It would indeed be atreat to a poor little recluse like me, but though there is not a bit ofharm in it, or you would not ask me, I am sure, I must not offend mymother-in-law; and though Heaven knows I am not straight-laced, I neverwill tell stories or act deceitfully if I can help it; that is my onlystrong point, which has to make up for a thousand weak ones. "

Colonel Ormonde looked at her with amazement; her greatest charm to mensuch as he was her dolliness, and this was a new departure. 

"Well, " he said, in his most insinuating tones, "I thought you mighthave granted so much to an old friend and faithful admirer like myself. There is no great harm in my little plan. "

"Certainly not, but you see I must hold on to my mother-in-law: she ismy only real stay. While pleasant and friendly as you are, my dearColonel"--with a pretty little toss of her head--"you will go offshooting, or hunting, or Heaven knows what, and it is quite possible Imay never see your face again. "

"Oh, by George! you will not get rid of me so easily, " cried Ormonde, agood deal taken back. 

"I shall be very glad to see you if you do turn up again, " said Mrs. Liddell, graciously. "So as this will probably be the last time I shallsee you for some months, pray tell me some amusing gossip. "

But gossip did not seem to come readily to Colonel Ormonde; neverthelessthey made a tour of the gardens in desultory conversation, till Mrs. Liddell stopped decidedly, and bade him adieu. 

"At last, " said the cautious ex-dragoon, "you will write and tell me howyou get on with this amiable old relative of yours. "

"I shall be very pleased to report progress, if you care to write andask me, and tell me your whereabouts. "

"Then I suppose it is to be good-by?" said Ormonde, almostsentimentally. "You are treating me devilishly ill. "

"I do not see that. " Here the boys came running up, at a signal fromtheir mother. 

"Well, my fine fellow, " said Ormonde, laying his hand on Cecil'sshoulder, "so you went to see your old uncle. Did he try to eat you?"

"No; but he is a nasty cross old man. He wouldn't speak a word to mammy, but took his stick and hobbled away. "

"Yes, he is a wicked man, and I am afraid he will hurt auntie, " put inCharlie. 

Colonel Ormonde laughed rather more than the mother liked. "I think youmay trust 'auntie' to take care of herself. --So you forced the old boyto retreat? What awful stories your sister-in-law must have told ofyou!" to Mrs. Liddell. 

She was greatly annoyed, but, urged by all-powerful self-interest, shemaintained a smooth face, and answered, "Oh yes, when Katherine keptworrying about our disturbing her uncle, the poor old man got up andleft the room. "

"Well, you must turn her flank, and be sure to let me know how mattersprogress. I suppose you will be here all the autumn?"

"I should think so; small chance of my going out of town, " she returned, bitterly, and the words had scarce left her lips before she felt she hadmade a mistake. Men hate to be bothered with the discomforts of others. 

The result was that Colonel Ormonde cut short his adieux, and partedfrom her with less regret than he felt five minutes before. 

The young widow walked smartly back, holding her eldest boy's hand, andadministered a sharp rebuke to him for talking too much. To which Cecilreplied that he had only answered when he was spoken to. This elicited ascolding for his impertinence, and produced further tart answers fromthe fluent young gentleman, which ended by his being dismissed in a furyto Jane, _vice_ Charles, promoted to walk beside mamma. 

As may be supposed, Mrs. Liddell lost no time about answering herdaughter's note in person. In truth, toward the end of a week'sseparation she generally began to hunger painfully for a sight of herKatie's face, to feel the clasp of her soft arms, and to this was addedin the present instance serious uneasiness respecting the strain towhich her sense of responsibility as nurse as well as housekeeper mustsubject so inexperienced a creature. 

It was rather late in the afternoon when Mrs. Liddell reached LegraveCrescent, and the servant showed her into the front parlor at once. Katherine almost feared to draw her uncle's attention to the visitor. Hehad had all the papers read to him, and even asked for some articles tobe read a second time; now after his dinner he seemed to doze. If he hadnot noticed Mrs. Liddell's entry she had perhaps better take her awayupstairs at once, but while she thought she sprang to her and locked herin a close, silent embrace. 

Turning from her, he saw that Mr. Liddell's eyes were open and fixedupon them, and she said, softly: "I am sorry you have been disturbed. Ishall take my mother to my room; perhaps if you want anything you willring for me. "

"I will, " he returned; and Mrs. Liddell thought his tone a little lessharsh than usual. "I said you might come and see your daughter when youlike, " he added, "and I repeat it. You have brought her up more usefullythan I expected. " Having spoken, he leaned his head back wearily andclosed his eyes. 

"I am pleased to hear you say so, " returned Mrs. Liddell, quietly, andimmediately followed her daughter out of the room. 

"Oh, darling mother, I am so delighted to have you here all to myself!It is even better than going home, " cried Kate, when they were safe inher own special chamber. "But you are looking pale and worn andthin--_so_ much thinner!"

"That is an improvement, Katherine, " returned Mrs. Liddell; "I shalllook all the younger. "

"Ah! but your face looks older, dear. What has been worrying you? HasAda--"

"Ada has never worried me, as you know, Katie, " interrupted Mrs. Liddell. "She is not exactly the companion I should choose for every dayof my life, but she has always been kind and nice with me. "

"Oh, she is not bad, and she would be clever if she managed to make_you_ quarrel. I am quite different. Now I must get you some tea. Praylook round while I am gone, and see how comfortable it is;" andKatherine hurried away. 

She soon returned, followed by Mrs. Knapp, who was glad to carry up thetea-tray to the pleasant, sensible lady who had engaged her for whatproved to be not an uncomfortable situation. When, after a few civilwords, she retired, with what delight and tender care Katie waited onher mother, putting a cushion at her back and a footstool under herfeet, remembering her taste in sugar, her little weakness for cream!

"It was very warm in the omnibus, I suppose, for you are looking betteralready. "

"I _am_ better; but, Katherine, your uncle is curiously changed. It isnot so much that he looks ill, but by comparison so alarmingly amiable. "

"Well, he is less appalling than he was, and I have grown wonderfullyaccustomed to him. But for the monotony, it is not so bad as I expected, and it will be better now, as Mr. Newton is to give me the weekly money. I think my uncle is trying to live. "

"Poor man! he has little to live for, " said Mrs. Liddell. 

"He wishes to outlive some other old man, because then he will get agood deal of money, according to some curious system--called a'Tontine. '"

"Is it possible? The ruling passion, then, in his instance is strongagainst death. "

"What a poverty-stricken life his has been, after all!" exclaimedKatherine. "Did Ada tell you how vexed he was at her visit?"

"She was greatly offended, but I should like your version of it. "

Katherine told her, and repeated Mr. Newton's inquiry about Mrs. FredLiddell's family name. 

"Mr. Newton is very kind. He is very formal and precise, and veryguarded in all he says, yet I feel that he likes me--us--and would likemy uncle to do something for us. "

"I never hoped he would do as much as he has. If he would remember thosepoor little boys in his will it would be a great help. You and I couldalways manage together, Katie. "

"I wish that we were together by our own selves once more, " returnedKate, nestling up to her mother on the big old-fashioned sofa, andresting her head on her shoulder. 

"I wish to God we were! I miss you so awfully, my darling!"

There was a short silence while the two clung lovingly together. ThenKatherine said, in a low tone, "Mr. Newton evidently thinks he--myuncle--has made a very unjust will, and fears he will never change it. "

"Most probably he will not; but he ought not to cut off his naturalheirs. "

"Would Cecil and Charlie be his natural heirs?"

"I suppose so, and something would come to you too; but I do notunderstand these matters. It is dreadful how mean and mercenary thisterrible need for money makes one. "

"You want it very much, mother? There is trouble in your voice; tell mewhat it is. "

"There is no special pressure, dear, just now; but unless I am moresuccessful with my pen I greatly fear I shall get into debt before I canliberate myself from that house. Yet if I do, what will become of Adaand the boys?" She paused to cough. 

Katherine was silent; the tone of her mother's voice told more than herwords. "But, " resumed Mrs. Liddell, "all is not black. The _DalstonWeekly_ has taken my short story, and given me ten pounds for it. However, you must take the bad with the good; my poor three-decker hascome back on my hands. "

Katherine uttered a low exclamation. "I did hope they would have takenit! and what miserable pay for that bright, pretty story! Mother, Icannot believe that the novel will fail. _Do, do_ try Santley & Son! Ihave always heard they were such nice people. Try--promise me you will. "

"Dear Katie, I will do whatever you ask me; but--but I confess I feel asif Hope, who has always befriended me, had turned her back at last. I amso dreadfully tired! I feel as if I was never to rest. Oh for a coupleof years of peace before I go hence, and a certainty that _you_ wouldnot want!"

"Do not fear for me, " cried Katherine, pressing her mother to her andcovering her pale cheeks with kisses. "For myself I fear nothing, butfor _you_, I greatly fear you are unwell; you breathe shortly; yourhands are feverish. Do not let hope go. A few weeks and my uncle will bestronger, or he may be invigorated by feeling he has killed out theother old man, and then I will go back to you and help you, whateverhappens. I won't stay here to act compound interest. My own darlingmother, keep up your heart. "

"I am ashamed of myself, " said Mrs. Liddell, in an unsteady voice. "Iought not to have grieved your young heart with my depression, for I_have_ been depressed. "

"Why not? What is the good of youth and strength if it is not to upholdthose who have already had more than their share of life's burdens?"

"I assure you this outpouring has relieved me greatly; I shall returnlike a giant refreshed, " said Mrs. Liddell, rallying gallantly; "and youmay depend on my trying the fortune of my poor novel once more, withSantley & Son. Now tell me how your domestic management prospers. "

A long confidential discussion ensued, and at last Mrs. Liddell wasobliged to leave. 

Katherine went to tell her uncle she was going to set her mother on herway, and to see his cup of beef tea served to him. His remark almoststartled her. "Very well, " he said. "Come back soon. "

This interview agitated Katherine more than Mrs. Liddell knew. Her wornlook, her cough, her unwonted depression, thrilled her daughter's warmheart with a passion of tender longing to be with her, to help her, togive her the rest she so sorely needed; and in the solitude of her largedreary room she sobbed herself to sleep, her lips still quivering withthe loving epithets she had murmured to herself. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

"THE LONG TASK IS DONE. "

The facility with which human nature assimilates new conditions is amongits most remarkable attributes. A week had scarcely elapsed since JohnLiddell's sudden indisposition and subsidence into an invalid condition, yet it seemed to Katherine that he had been breakfasting in bed forages, and might continue to do so for another cycle without change. Herinexperience took no warning from the rapidly developing signs ofdecadence and failing force which Mr. Newton perceived; and, on thewhole, she found her task of housekeeper and caretaker less ungratefulsince weakness had subdued her uncle, and the friendly lawyer had beenappointed paymaster. 

The days sped with the swiftness monotony lends to time. Mrs. Liddellalways visited her daughter once a week. Occasionally Katherine gotleave of absence, and spent an hour or two at home, where she enjoyed agame of play with her little nephews. Otherwise home was less homelikethan formerly. Ada was sulky and dissatisfied; she dared not intrude onMr. Liddell in his present condition; and she was dreadfully annoyed atnot being able to give Colonel Ormonde any encouraging news on thishead. Her influence on the family circle, therefore, was not cheerful. Besides this, though Mrs. Liddell kept a brave front, and did not againallow herself the luxury of confidence in her daughter, there wereunmistakable signs of care and trouble in her face, her voice. She wasunfailing in her kind forbearance to the woman her son had loved, andwhatever good existed in Mrs. Fred's rubbishy little heart responded tothe genial, broad humanity of her mother-in-law. But Katherineperceived, or thought she perceived, that Mrs. Liddell was wearingherself down in the effort to make her inmates comfortable, and so tobeat out her scanty store of sovereigns as to make them stretch to themargin of her necessities. It was a very shadowy and narrow pass throughwhich her road of life led Katherine at this period, nor was there muchprospect beyond. Moreover, as her mother had anticipated, the invisiblecords which bound her to the moribund old miser were tightening theirhold more and more, she often looked back and wondered at the sort ofnumbness which stole over her spirit during this time of trial. 

September was now in its first week; the weather was wet and cold; andKatherine was thankful when Mr. Newton's weekly visit was due. It wasparticularly stormy that day, and he was a little later than usual. 

When she had left solicitor and client together for some time, shedescended, as was her custom, to make a cup of tea for the former, andgive her uncle his beef tea or jelly. 

Mr. Newton rose, shook hands with her, and then resumed his conversationwith Mr. Liddell. 

"I do not for a moment mean to say that he is a reckless bettor or amere gambling horse-racer; and, after all, to enter a horse or two forthe local races, or even Newmarket, is perfectly allowable in a man ofhis fortune--it will neither make him nor mar him. "

"It _will_ mar him, " returned Mr. Liddell, in more energetic tones thanKatherine had heard him utter since he was laid up. "A man who believeshe is rich enough to throw away money is on the brink of ruin. Heappears to me in a totally different light. I thought he was steady, thoughtful, alive to the responsibility of his position. Ah, who is tobe trusted? Who?"

There seemed no reply to this, for Mr. Newton started a new andabsorbing topic. 

"Mr. Fergusson is keeping wonderfully well, " he remarked. "His sisterwas calling on my wife yesterday, and says that since he took this newfood--'Revalenta Arabica, ' I think it is called--he is quite a new man. "

"What food is that?" asked Mr. Liddell. While Newton explained, Katherine reflected with some wonder on the fact that there was a Mrs. Newton; it had never come to her knowledge before. She tried to imaginethe precise lawyer in love. How did he propose? Surely on paper, in themost strictly legal terms! Could he ever have felt the divine joy andexultation which loving and being loved must create? Had he littlechildren? and oh! did he, could he, ever dance them on his knee? He wasa good man, she was sure, but goodness so starched and ironed was alittle appalling. 

These fancies lasted till the description of Revalenta Arabica wasended; then Mr. Liddell said, "Tell my niece where to get it. " Never hadhe called her niece before; even Mr. Newton looked surprised. "I willsend you the address, " he said. "And here, Miss Liddell, is the checkfor next week. "

"I have still some money from the last, " said Katherine, blushing. "Ihad better give it to you, and then the check need not be interferedwith. " She hated to speak of money before her uncle. 

"As you like. You are a good manager, Miss Liddell. "

"Give it to me, " cried the invalid from his easy-chair; "I will put itin my bureau. I have a few coins there, and they can go together. "

"Very well; but had not my uncle better write an acknowledgment? Weshall be puzzled about the money when we come to reckon up at the end ofthe month, if he does not. "

Katherine had been taught by severe experience the necessity of savingherself harmless when handling Mr. Liddell's money. 

"An acknowledgment, " repeated the old man, with a slight, sobbing, inward laugh. "That is well thought. Yes, by all means write it out, Mr. Newton, and I will sign. Oh yes; I will sign!"

Newton turned to the writing-table and traced a few lines, bringing iton the blotting-pad for his client's signature. 

"I can sign steadily enough still, " said Mr. Liddell, slowly, "and myname is good for a few thousands. Hey?"

"That it certainly is, Mr. Liddell. "

"Do you think old Fergusson could sign as steadily as that?" asked Mr. Liddell, with a slight, exulting smile. 

"I should say not. What writing of his I have seen was a terriblescrawl. "

"Hum! he wasn't a gentleman, you know. He drank too; not to beintoxicated, but too much--too much! For he will find the temperance mantoo many for him. _I'll_ win the race, the waiting race;" and he laughedagain in a distressing, hysterical fashion, that quite exhausted him. 

Katherine flew to fetch cold water, while the old man leaning backpanting and breathless, and Mr. Newton, much alarmed, fanned him with afolded newspaper. 

He gradually recovered, but complained much of the beating of his heart. Mr. Newton wished to send for the doctor, but Mr. Liddell would not hearof it. Then he urged his allowing the servant at least to sleep on thesofa in the front parlor, leaving the door into Mr. Liddell's room open. To this the object of his solicitude was also opposed, so Mr. Newtonbade him farewell. Katherine, however, waylaid him in the hall, and theyheld a short conference. 

"He really ought not to be left alone at night. "

"No, he must not, " said Katherine. "I will make our servant spend thenight in the parlor. She can easily open the door after the lights areout, without his being vexed by knowing she is there. I could not sleepif I thought he was alone. I will come very early in the morning torelieve her. "

"Do, my dear young lady. I will call on the doctor and beg him to comeround early. "

"Do you think my uncle so ill, then?"

"He is greatly changed, and his weakness makes me uneasy. I trust in Godhe may be spared a little longer. "

Katherine looked and felt surprised at the fervor of his tone. Littledid she dream the real source of the friendly lawyer's anxiety toprolong a very profitless existence. 

After a few more remarks and a promise to come at any time if he wereneeded, Mr. Newton departed; and Katherine got through the drearyevening as best she could. 

How she longed to summon her mother! but she feared to irritate heruncle, who was evidently unequal to bear the slightest agitation. 

Next day was unusually cold, and though Mr. Liddell had passed atranquil night, he seemed averse to leave his bed. He lay there veryquietly, and listened to the papers being read, and it was late in theafternoon before he would get up and dress. From this time forward herarely rose till dusk, and it grew more and more an effort to him. Hewas always pleased to see Mr. Newton, and to converse a little with him. He even spoke with tolerable civility to Mrs. Liddell when she came tosee her daughter. 

As the weather grew colder--and autumn that year was very wintry--heobjected more and more to leave his bed, and at last came to sitting uponly for a couple of hours in the chair by his bedroom fire. It wasduring one of these intervals that Katherine, who had been racking herbrains for something to talk of that would interest him, bethought herof a transaction in old newspapers which Mrs. Knapp had brought to asatisfactory conclusion. She therefore took out "certain moneys" fromher purse. 

"We have sold the newspapers at last, uncle, " she said. "I kept backsome for our own use, so all I could get was a shilling and threehalf-pence. " She placed the coins on a little table which stood by hisarm-chair, adding, "I suppose you know the Scotch saying, 'Many micklesmake a muckle'; even a few pence are better than a pile of uselesspapers. "

"I know, " said Liddell, with feeble eagerness, clutching the money andtransferring it to his little old purse. "It is a good saving--a wisesaying. I did not think you knew it; but--but why did you keep backany?"

"Because one always needs waste paper in a house, to light fires andcover things from dust. I shall collect more next time, " she added, seeing the old man was pleased with the idea. 

He made no reply, but sat gazing at the red coals, his lips movingslightly, and the purse still in his hand. Again he opened it, and tookout the coins she had given him, holding them to the fire-light in thehollow of his thin hand. 

"Do you know the value of money?" he said at length, looking piercinglyat her. "Do you know the wonderful life it has--a life of its own?"

"If the want of can teach its value I ought to know, " she returned. 

"You are wrong! Poverty never teaches its worth. You never hold it andstudy it when, the moment you touch it, you have to exchange it forcommodities. No! it is when you can spare some for a precious seed, andwatch its growth, and see--see its power of self-multiplication if it islet alone--just let alone, " he repeated, with a touch of pathos in hisvoice. "Now these few pence, thirteen and a half in all--a boy with anaccumulative nature and youth, early youth, on his side, might build afortune on these. Yes, he might, if he had not a grovelling love of foodand comfort. "

"Do you think he really could?" asked Kate, interested in spite ofherself in the theories of the old miser. 

"Would you care to know?" said her uncle, fixing his keen dark eyes uponher. 

"I should indeed. " Her voice proved she was in earnest. 

"Then I will tell you, step by step, but not to-night. I am too weary. You are different from the others--your father and your brother. Youare--yes, you are--more like _me_. "

"God forbid!" was Katherine's mental ejaculation. 

Mr. Liddell slowly put the thirteenpence half penny back in his purse, drew forth his bunch of keys, looked at them, and restored them to hispocket; then, resting his head wearily against the chair, he said, "Giveme something to take and I will go to bed. "

Katherine hastened to obey, and summoned the servant to assist him, asusual. 

The next morning was cold and wet, with showers of sleet, and Mr. Liddell declared he had taken a chill, and refused to get up. He wasindisposed to eat, and did not show any interest in the newspaper. Aboutnoon the doctor called. Mr. Liddell answered his questions civillyenough, but did not respond to his attempts at conversation. 

"Your uncle is in a very low condition, " said the doctor, when he cameinto the next room, where Katherine awaited him. "You must do your bestto make him take nourishment, and keep him as warm as possible. Isuppose Mr. Newton is always in town?"

"I think so; at least I never knew him to be absent since I came here. Irather expect him to-day or to-morrow. Do you think my uncle seriouslyill?"

"He is not really ill, but he has an incurable complaint--old age. Heought not to be so weak as he is; still, he may last some time, withyour good care. "

Katherine took her needle-work and settled herself to keep watch by theold man. The doctor's inquiry for Mr. Newton had startled her, but hissubsequent words allayed her fears. "He may last for some time, "conveyed to her mind the notion of an indefinite lease of life. 

Mr. Liddell seemed to be slumbering peacefully, when, after a longsilence, during which Katherine's thoughts had traversed many a leagueof land and sea, he said suddenly, in stronger tones than usual, "Areyou there?" He scarcely ever called her by her name. 

"I am, " said Katherine, coming to the bedside. 

"Here, take these keys"--he drew them from under his pillows; "this oneunlocks that bureau"--pointing to a large old-fashioned piece offurniture, dark and polished, which stood on one side of the fireplace;"open it, and in the top drawer left you will find a long, folded paper. Bring it to me. "

Katherine did as he directed, and could not help seeing the words, "Willof John Wilmot Liddell, " and a date some seven or eight years back, inscribed upon it. She handed it to her uncle, arranging his pillows sothat he might sit up more comfortably, while she rather wondered at thecommonplace aspect of so potent an instrument. A will, she imagined, wassomething huge, of parchment, with big seals attached. 

John Liddell slowly put on his spectacles, and unfolding the paper, readfor some time in silence. 

"This will not do, " he said at last, clearly and firmly. "I was mistakenin him. The care for and of money must be born in you; it cannot betaught. No, I can make a better disposition. Could _you_ take care ofmoney, girl?" he asked sternly. 

"I should try, " returned Katherine, quietly. 

There was a pause. The old man lay thinking, his lean, brown hand lyingon the open paper. "Write, " he said at length, so suddenly and sharplythat he startled his niece; get paper and write to Newton. Katherinebrought the writing materials, and placed herself at the small table. 

"Dear sir, " he dictated--"Be so good as to come to me as soon asconvenient. I wish to make a will more in accordance with my presentknowledge than any executed by me formerly. I am, yours faithfully. "

Katherine brought over pen and paper, and the old man affixed hissignature clearly. 

"Now fold it up and send it to post. No--take it yourself; then it willbe safe, and so much the better for you. "

Katherine called the good-natured Mrs. Knapp to take her place, andsallied forth. She was a good deal excited. Was she in a crisis of herfate? Would her grim old uncle leave her wherewithal to give the dearmother rest and peace for the remainder of her days? It would not takemuch; would he--oh, would he remember the poor little boys? She neverdreamed of more than a substantial legacy; the bulk of his fortune hemight leave to whom he liked. How dreadful it was that money should besuch a grim necessity!

She felt oppressed, and made a small circuit returning, to enjoy as muchfresh air as she could, and called at some of the shops where she wasaccustomed to deal, to save sending the servant later. She was growing alittle nervous, and disliked being left alone in the house. 

When she returned, her uncle was very much in the same attitude; but hehad folded up his will and placed his hand under his head. 

"You have been very long, " he said, querulously. 

Katherine said she had been at one or two shops. 

"Read to me, " he said, "I am tired thinking; but first lock the bureauand give me the keys; you left them hanging in the lock. I have nevertaken my eyes from them. Now I have them, " he added, putting them underhis pillow, "I can rest. Here, take this"--handing her the will: "put itin the drawer of my writing-table; we may want it to morrow; and I donot wish that bureau opened again; everything is there. "

Having placed the will as he desired, Katherine began to read, and therest of the day passed as usual. 

She could not, however, prevent herself from listening for Mr. Newton'sknock. She felt sure he would hasten to his client as soon as he hadread his note. He would be but too glad to draw up another and a justerwill. 

Without a word, without the slightest profession of friendship, Newtonhad managed to impress Katherine with the idea that he was anxious toinduce Mr. Liddell to do what was right to his brother's widow anddaughter. 

But night closed in, and no Mr. Newton came. Mr. Liddell was unusuallywakeful and restless, and seemed on the watch himself, his last wordsthat night being, "I am sure Newton will be here in good timeto-morrow. "

Instead, the morrow brought a dapper and extremely modern young man, thehead of the firm in right of succession, his late father having foundedthe house of Stephens & Newton. 

Mr. Liddell had just been made comfortable in his great invalid's chairby the fire, having risen earlier than usual in expectation of Mr. Newton's visit. When this gentleman presented himself, Katherineobserved that her uncle was in a state of tremulous impatience, and themoment she saw the stranger she felt that some unlucky accident hadprevented Newton from obeying his client's behest. 

"Who--what?" gasped Mr. Liddell, when a card was handed to him. "Readit, " to Katherine. 

"Mr. Stephens, of Stephens & Newton, Red Lion Square, " she returned. 

"I will not see him, I do not want him, " cried her uncle, angrily. "Where is Newton? Go ask him?"

With an oppressive sense of embarrassment, Katherine went out into thehall, and confronted a short, slight young man with exceedingly tighttrousers, a colored cambric tie, and a general air of being on the turf. He held a white hat in one hand, and on the other, which was ungloved, he wore a large seal ring. Katherine did not know how to say that heruncle would not see him, but the stranger took the initiative. 

"Aw--I have done myself the honor of coming in person to take Mr. Liddell's instructions, as Mr. Newton was called out of town by veryparticular business yesterday morning. I rather hoped he might returnlast night, but a communication this morning informs us he will bedetained till this afternoon, not reaching town till 9. 30 P. M. I amprepared to execute any directions in my partner's stead. "

He spoke with an air of condescension, as if he did Mr. Liddell a highhonor, and made a step forward. Katherine did not know what to say. Itwas terrible to keep this consequential little man in the hall, andthere was literally nowhere else to take him. 

"I am so sorry, but my uncle is very unwell and nervous. I do not thinkhe could see any one but Mr. Newton, who is an old friend, you know, "she added, deprecatingly. 

"I am his legal adviser too, " returned the young man, with a slightlyoffended air. "I am the senior partner and head of the house, and theworse Mr. Liddell is, the greater the necessity for his givinginstructions respecting his will. "

"I will tell him Mr. Newton is away, " said Katherine, courteously;"and--would you mind sitting down here? I am quite distressed not tohave any better place to offer you, but I cannot help it. "

"It is of no consequence, " returned the young lawyer, struck by hersweet tones and simple good-breeding, yet looking round him at the wornoil-cloth and shabby stair-carpeting with manifest amazement. 

"Mr. Newton is out of town, and does not return till late this evening, "said Katherine, returning to the irate old man. "This gentleman says heis the head of the firm, and will do your bidding in Mr. Newton'sstead. "

"Tell him he shall do nothing of the kind, " returned Mr. Liddell, in aweak, hoarse, impatient voice. "I saw him once, and I know him; he is anignorant, addle-pated jackanapes. He shall not muddle my affairs; sendhim away; I can wait for Newton. I don't suppose I am going to dieto-night. "

And Katherine, blushing "celestial rosy red, " hied back to the smartyoung man, who was reposing himself on the only seat the entranceboasted, and conjecturing that if this fine, fair, soft-spoken girl wasto be the old miser's heir, she would be almost deserving of his ownmatrimonial intentions. 

"My uncle begs me to apologize to you, Mr. Stephens, but he is so muchaccustomed to Mr. Newton, and in such a nervous state, that he wouldprefer waiting till that gentleman can come. "

"Oh, very well; only I wish I had known before--I came up here at someinconvenience; and also wish Mr. Liddell could be persuaded that delaysare dangerous. "

"The delay is not for very long. I am sorry you had this fruitlesstrouble. Mr. Liddell is very weak. "

"I am sure if anything could restore him, it would be the care of such anurse as you must be, " with a bow and a grin. 

"Thank you; good-morning, " said Katherine, with such an air of decideddismissal that the young senior partner at once departed. 

Mr. Liddell fretted and fumed for an hour or two before he had exhaustedhimself sufficiently to sit still and listen to Katherine's reading; andafter he had apparently sunk into a doze, he suddenly started up andexclaimed: "That idiot, young Stephens, will never think of sending tohis house. Write--write to Newton's private residence. "

"I think Mr. Stephens will, uncle. He seemed anxious to meet yourwishes. "

"Don't be a fool--do as I bid you! Get the paper and pen. Are youready?"

"I am. "

"Dear sir, Let nothing prevent your coming to me to-morrow, " hedictated; "I want to make my will. It is important that affairs be notleft in confusion. Yours truly. Give me the pen, " he went on, in thesame breath. "I can sign as well as ever. Now go you yourself and putthis in the post. I do not trust that woman--they all stop and gossip, and I want this to go by the next despatch. "

Katherine, always thankful to be in the air, went readily enough. Shewas distressed to find how the nervous uneasiness of yesterday wasgrowing on her. The perpetual companionship of the grim old skeleton, her uncle, was making her morbid, she thought; she must ask leave to goand spend a day at home to see how her mother was getting on, to refreshherself by a game of romps with the children. Why, she felt absolutelygrowing old!

When she re-entered the house she found, much to her satisfaction, thatthe doctor was with Mr. Liddell; and after laying aside her out-doordress, she went to the parlor. 

"I have been advising Mr. Liddell to try the effect of a few glasses ofchampagne, " said the former, who was looking rather grave, Katherinethought. "But as there is none in his cellar, he objects. Now you musthelp me to persuade him. I am going on to a patient in Regent's Park, and shall pass a very respectable wine-merchant's on my way; so I shalljust take the law into my own hands and order a couple of bottles foryou. Consider it medicine. It is wonderful how much more generallychampagne is used than when you and I were young, my dear sir!" etc. , etc. , he went on, with professional cheerfulness. But Mr. Liddell didnot heed him much. 

"He is very weak. The action of the heart is extremely feeble, " said thedoctor, when Katherine followed him to the door. "Try and make him takethe champagne. "

Another day dragged through; then Katherine, rather worn with theconstant involuntary sense of watching which had strained her nerves allday, slept soundly and dreamlessly. She woke early next morning, and wassoon dressed. Mrs. Knapp reported Mr. Liddell to be still slumbering. 

"But law, miss, he have had a bad night--the worst yet, I think. He wasdreaming and tossing from side to side, and then he would scream outwords I couldn't understand. I made him take some wine between two andthree, but I do not think he knew me a bit. I have had a dreadful nightof it. "

Katherine expressed her sympathy, and did what she could to lighten thegood woman's labors. 

Mr. Liddell, however, though he looked ghastly, seemed rather strongerthan usual. He insisted on getting up, and came into the sitting-roomabout eleven. 

It was a cold morning, with a thick, drizzling rain. Katherine made upthe fire to a cheerful glow, and by her uncle's directions placed pen, ink and paper on the small table he always had beside him. Then heuttered the accustomed commanding "Read, " and Katherine read. 

Suddenly he interrupted her by exclaiming, "Give me the deaths first. "

It had been a whim of his latterly to have this lugubrious list read tohim every day. 

Katherine had hardly commenced when she descried Mr. Newton's well-knownfigure advancing from the garden gate. 

"Ah, here is Mr. Newton!" she exclaimed. 

"Ha! that is well, " cried her uncle, with shrill exultation. "Now--nowall will go right. "

The next moment the lawyer was shown in, and having greeted them, proceeded to apologize for his unavoidable absence. "Here I am, however, sir, " he concluded, "at your service. "

"Go--leave us, " said Liddell, abruptly yet not unkindly, to Katherine;then, as she left the room, "Finish the deaths for me, will you, beforewe go to business. She had just read the first two. Read--make haste!"

Somewhat surprised, Mr. Newton took up the paper and continued: "On the30th September, at Wimbledon, universally regretted, the Rev. JamesJohnson, formerly minister of "Little Bethel, Bermondsey. " On October1st, at her residence, Upper Clapton, Esther, relict of CaptainDoubleday, late of the E. I. C. Service. On the 2nd instant, atBournemouth, Peter Fergusson, of Upper Baker Street, in theseventy-fifth year of his age. "

"Fergusson dead! and he is three years my junior! Now it is allmine--all!--all! I shall be able to settle it as I like. I haven'teaten and drunk in vain. I'm strong, quite strong. All the papers arethere, in my bureau. I'll show them to you. Aha! I thought I'd outlivehim! I was determined to outlive him!"

With an uncanny laugh he struggled to his feet, and attempted to walk tohis bedroom, his stick in one hand and the keys he had taken from hispocket in the other. For a few steps he walked with a degree of strengththat astonished Newton; then he gave a deep groan, staggered, and fellto the ground with a crash. 

Newton rushed to raise him, which he did with some difficulty. The noisebrought the servant to his assistance. 

"Go! fetch Dr. Bilhane, " said Mr. Newton, as soon as they had laid thehelpless body on the bed. "Though I doubt if he can do anything. The oldman is gone. "

CHAPTER IX. 

"TEMPTATION. "

To Katherine, who was in her own room, the sound beneath came with asubdued force, and knowing Mr. Newton was with him, she thought itbetter to stay where she was, for it never struck her that Mr. Liddellhad fallen. 

When, therefore, Mrs. Knapp, with that eagerness to spread evil tidingspeculiar to her class, rushed upstairs to announce breathlessly that shewas going for the doctor, but that the poor old gentleman was quitedead, Katherine could not believe her. 

She quickly descended to the parlor, where she found Mr. Newton standingby the fire, looking pale and anxious. 

"Oh, Mr. Newton, he cannot be dead!" cried Katherine. "He seemedstronger this morning, and he has fainted more than once. Let me bathehis temples. " She took a bottle of eau-de-Cologne from the sideboard asshe spoke. 

"My dear young lady, both your servant and I have done what we could torevive him, and I fear--I believe he has passed away. The start and thetriumph of finding himself the last survivor of the Tontine associationwere too much for his weak heart. I would not go in if I were you: deathis appalling to the young. "

Katherine stopped, half frightened, yet ashamed of her fear. "Oh yes; Imust satisfy myself that I can do nothing more for him. Can it bepossible that he will never speak again--never search for news of thatother poor old man?" She went softly into the next room, followed byNewton, and approaching the bed, laid her hand gently on his brow. "Howawfully cold!" she whispered, shrinking back in spite of herself at theunutterable chill of death. "But he looks so peaceful, so different fromwhat he did in life!" She stood gazing at him, silent, awe-struck. 

"Come away, " said Newton, kindly. "The doctor will be here, I trust, ina few minutes, and will be able to give a certificate which will savethe worry of an inquest. "

Katherine obeyed his gesture of entreaty, and went slowly into thefront room, where she sat down, leaning her elbows on the table andcovering her face with her hands, while Mr. Newton closed the door. 

It was all over, then, her hopes and fears; the poor wasted life, asmuch wasted and useless as if spent in the wildest and most extravagantfollies, was finished. What had it left behind? Nothing of good to anyhuman being; no blessing of loving-kindness, of help and sympathy, toany suffering brother wayfarer on life's high-road; nothing but hard, naked gold--gold which, from what she had heard, would go to one alreadyabundantly provided. Ah, she must not think of that gold so sorelyneeded, or bad, unseemly ideas would master her!

But Mr. Newton was speaking. "It is fortunate I was here to be some stayto you, " he said; "the shock must be very great, and--" He interruptedhimself hastily to exclaim, "Here is the doctor! I shall go with himinto our poor friend's room; let me find you here when I come back. "Katherine bent her head, and remained in the same attitude, thinking, thinking. 

How long it was before the kind lawyer returned she did not know; but hecame and stood by her, the doctor behind him. 

"It is as I supposed, " said Newton, in a low tone. "Life is quiteextinct. " Katherine rose and confronted them, looking very white. 

"Yes, " added the doctor; "death must have been instantaneous. Your unclewas in a condition which made him liable to succumb under the slightestshock. Can you give me paper and ink? I will write a certificate atonce. Then, Miss Liddell, I shall look to you. "

Katherine placed the writing materials before him silently, and watchedhim trace the lines; then he handed the paper to Mr. Newton, saying, "You will see to what is necessary I presume, " and rising he tookKatherine's hand and felt her pulse. "Very unsteady indeed; I wouldrecommend a glass of wine now, and at night a composing draught, which Iwill send. If I can do nothing more I must go on my rounds. I shall beat home again about six, should you require my services in any way. "

He went out, followed by Mr. Newton, and they spoke together for a fewmoments before the doctor entered his carriage and drove off. 

"Now, my dear, " said Mr. Newton, when he returned--the startling eventof the morning seemed to have taken off the sharp edge of hisprecision--"what shall you do? I suppose you would like to go home. Itwould be rather trying for you to stay here. "

"To go home!" returned Katherine, slowly. "Yes, I should, oh, very much!but I will not go. My uncle never was unkind to me, and I will stay inhis house until he is laid in his last resting place. Yet I do not liketo stay alone. May I have my mother with me?"

"Yes, by all means. I tell you what, I will drive over and break thenews to her myself; then she can come to you at once. I have a veryparticular appointment in the city this afternoon, but I shall arrangeto spend to-morrow forenoon here, and examine the contents of thatbureau. I have thought it well to take possession of your uncle's keys. "

"Yes, of course, " said Katherine; "you ought to have them. And you willgo and send my mother to me! I shall feel quite well and strong if sheis near. How good of you to think of it!" and she raised her darktearful eyes so gratefully to his that the worthy lawyer's heart kindledwithin him. 

"My dear young lady, I have rarely, if ever, regretted anything so muchas my unfortunate absence yesterday, though had I been able to answer mylate client's first summons, I doubt if time would have permitted thecompletion of a new will. Now my best hope, though it is a very faintone, is that he may have destroyed his last will, and so diedintestate. "

"Why?" asked Katherine, indifferently. She felt very hopeless. 

"It would be better for you. You would, I rather think, be the naturalheir. " Katherine only shook her head. "Of course it is not likely. Still, I have known him destroy one will before he made another. He hasmade four or five, to my knowledge. So it is wiser not to hope foranything. I shall always do what I can for you. Now you are quite coldand shivering. I would advise your going to your room, and keeping thereout of the way. You can do no more for your uncle, and I will send yourmother to you as soon as I can. I suppose you have the keys of thehouse?"

Katherine bowed her head. She seemed tongue-tied. Only when Mr. Newtontook her hand to say good-by she burst out, "You will send my mother tome soon--soon!"

Then she went away to her own room. Locking the door, she sat down andburied her face in the cushions of the sofa. She felt her thoughts inthe wildest confusion, as if some separate exterior self was exerting astrange power over her. It had said to her, "Be silent, " when Mr. Newtonspoke of the possibility of _not_ finding the will, and she had obeyedwithout the smallest intention to do good or evil. Some force she couldnot resist--or rather she did not dream of resisting--imposed silence onher. To what had this silence committed her? To nothing. When Mr. Newtoncame and examined the bureau he would no doubt open the drawer of thewriting-table also. She had locked it, and put the key in the littlebasket where the keys of her scantily supplied store closet and of thecellaret lay: there it stood on the round table near the window, withher ink-bottle and blotting-book. She sat up and looked at it fixedly. That little key was all that intervened between her and rest, freedom, enjoyment. The more she recalled her uncle's words and manner on the dayhe had dictated his first note to Mr. Newton, the more convinced shefelt that he had intended to provide for her, and now his intentionswould be frustrated, and the will the old man wished to suppress wouldbe the instrument by which his possessions would be distributed. 

It was too bad. She did not know how closely the hope of her mother'semancipation from the long hard struggle with poverty and its attendantevils by means of Uncle Liddell's possible bequest had twined itselfround her heart. Now she could not give it up. It seemed to her that hermental grasp refused to relax. 

She rose and began to make some little arrangement for her mother'scomfort, and presently the servant came to ask if she would take sometea. 

"I'm sure, miss, you must be faint for want of food, and we are justgoing to have some--the woman and me. "

"What woman?"

"A very respectable person as Dr. Bilham sent in to--to attend to thepoor old gentleman, miss. "

"Ah! thank you. I could not take anything now. I expect my mother soon;then I shall be glad of some tea. 

"Well, miss, you'll ring if you want me. And dear me! you ought to havea bit of fire. I'll light one up in a minnit. "

"Not till you have had your tea. I am not cold. "

"You look awful bad, miss!" With this comforting assurance Mrs. Knappdeparted, leaving the door partially open. 

A muffled sound, as if people were moving softly and cautiously, waswafted to Katherine as she sat and listened: then a door closed gently;voices murmuring in a subdued tone reached her ear, retreating as if thespeakers had gone downstairs. 

Katherine went to the window. It was a wretchedly dark, drizzlingafternoon--cold too, with gusts of wind. She hoped Mr. Newton would makeher mother take a cab. It was no weather for her to stand about waitingfor an omnibus. Would the time ever come when they need not think ofpennies?

Suddenly she turned, took a key from her basket, and walked composedlydownstairs, unlocked the drawer of the writing-table, and took out heruncle's last will and testament. Then she closed the drawer, leaving thekey in the lock, as it had always been, and returned to her room. 

Having fastened her door, she applied herself to read the document. Itwas short and simple, and with the exception of a small legacy to Mr. Newton, left all the testator possessed to a man whose name was utterlyunknown to her. Mr. Newton was the sole executor, and the will was datednearly seven years back. 

Katherine read it through a second time, and then very deliberatelyfolded it up. "It shall not stand in my way, " she murmured, her lipsclosing firmly, and she sat for a few minutes holding it tight in herhand, as she thought steadily what she should do. "Had my uncle lived afew hours more, this would have been destroyed or nullified. I willcarry out his intentions. I wonder what is the legal penalty for thecrime or felony I am going to commit? At all events I shall risk it. Theonly punishment I fear is my mother's condemnation. She must never know. It is a huge theft, whether the man I rob is rich or poor. I hope he isvery rich. I know I am doing a great wrong; that if others acted as I amacting there would be small security for property--perhaps for life--butI'll do it. Shall I ever be able to hold up my head and look honest folkin the face! I will try. If I commit this robbery I must not falter norrepent. I must be consistently, boldly false, and I must get done withit before my dearest mother comes. How grieved and disappointed shewould be if she knew! She believes so firmly in my truthfulness. Well, Ihave been true, and I _will_ be, save in this. Here I will lie bysilence. Where shall I hide it? for I will not destroy it--not yet atleast. No elaborate concealment is necessary. "

She rose up and took some thin brown paper--such as is used in shops towrap up lace and ribbons--and folded the will in it neatly, tying it upwith twine, and writing on it, "old MSS. , to be destroyed. " Then shelaid it in the bottom of her box. "If my mother sees it, the idea of oldMS. Will certainly deter her from looking at it. " She put back thethings she had taken out and closed the box; then she stood for a momentof thought. What would the result be? Who could tell? Some other unknownLiddells might start up to share the inheritance. Well, she would notmind that much; so long as she could secure some years of modestcompetence to her mother, some help for her little nephews, she would becontent. 

Now that she had accomplished what an hour ago was a scarcelyentertained idea, she felt wonderfully calm, but curious as to howthings would turn out, with the sort of curiosity she might have feltwith regard to the action of another. 

She did not want to be still any more, however; she went to and fro inher room, dusting it and putting it in order; she rearranged her ownhair and dress, and then she went to the window to watch for her mother. Time had gone swiftly while her thoughts had been so intensely occupied, and to her great delight she soon saw a cab drive up, from which Mrs. Liddell descended. 

Katherine flew to receive her, and in the joy of feeling her mother oncemore by her side she temporarily forgot the sense of a desperate deedwhich had oppressed her. 

Mrs. Liddell had been much shocked by the sudden death of herbrother-in-law, but her chief anxiety was to fly to Katie, to shortenthe terrible hours of loneliness in the house of mourning. 

She too honestly confessed her regret that the old man had been cut offbefore he could fulfil his intention of making a new will, "though, " shesaid to her daughter as they talked together, "we cannot be sure that hewould have remembered us--or rather you. But there is no use in thinkingof what is past out of the range of possibilities. Let us only hopewhoever is heir will not insist on immediate repayment of that loan. Itis strange that you should have managed to make the poor old man'sacquaintance, and to a certain degree succeed with him, only in his lastdays. "

"Try and talk of something else, mother dear. It is all so ghastly andoppressive! Tell me about Ada and the boys. "

"Ada was out when Mr. Newton came. I left a little note telling her ofyour uncle's awfully sudden death, and of my intention of remaining withyou until after the funeral. What a state of excitement she will be in!I have no doubt she will be here to-morrow. "

"Very likely, " said Katherine, who was pouring out tea. 

"Did Mr. Newton mention to you that your uncle had written to him tocome and draw up a new will?"

"Why, I wrote the note, which my uncle signed. "

"Yes, of course; I had forgotten. But did Mr. Newton say that he had afaint hope that he might have destroyed the other will?"

"He did; but it is not probable. "

"It would make an immense difference to us if he had. "

"Would it?" asked Kate, to extract an answer from her mother. 

"Mr. Newton believes that if he died intestate you would inheriteverything. "

"What! would not the little boys share?"

"I am not sure. But to get away from the subject, which somehow alwaysdraws me back to it, I have one bit of good news for you, my darling. Ihad a letter from Santley this morning. He will take my novel, and willgive me a hundred and fifty pounds for it. "

"Really? Oh, this is glorious news! I am so delighted! Then you will getmore for the next; you will become known and appreciated. "

"Do not be too sure; it may be a failure. And at present I do not feelas if I should ever have any ideas again. My brain seems so weary. "

"Perhaps, " whispered Katherine, "you _may_ be able to rest. You arelooking very tired and ill. "

Somewhat to her own surprise, Katherine slept profoundly that night. Thedelicious sense of comfort and security which her mother's presencebrought soothed her ineffably. It seemed as if no harm could touch herwhile she felt the clasp of those dear arms. 

The early forenoon brought Mr. Newton, and after a little preliminarytalk respecting the arrangements he had made for the funeral, heproposed to look for the will which he had drawn up some years before, and which, to the best of his recollection, Mr. Liddell had taken chargeof himself. 

"Might you not wait until the poor old man is laid in his last home?asked Mrs. Liddell. 

"Perhaps it would be more seemly, " said the lawyer; "but it is almostnecessary to know who is the heir and who is the executor. Besides, itis quite possible that since he signed the will I drew up for him in'59, and to which I was executor, he may have made another, of which Iknow nothing, and I may have to communicate with some other executor. Iwill therefore begin the search at once. Would you and your daughterlike to be present?"

"Thank you, no, " returned Mrs. Liddell. 

"I would rather not, " said Katherine. 

Mr. Newton proceeded on his search alone, while Mrs. Liddell and herdaughter went to the latter's room, anxious to keep from meddling withwhat did not concern them. 

Scarcely had the former settled herself to write a letter to an oldfriend in Florence with whom she kept up a steady though not a frequentcorrespondence, when she was interrupted by a tap at the door. Beforeshe could say "Come in, " it was opened to admit Mrs. Frederic Liddell, who came in briskly. She had taken out a black dress with crape on it, and retouched a mourning bonnet, so that she presented an appearanceperfectly suited to the occasion. 

"Oh dear!" she cried, "I have been in such a state ever since I had yournote! I thought I should never get away this morning. The stupidity ofthose servants is beyond description. Now do tell all about everything. "She sat down suddenly, then jumped up, kissed her mother-in-law on thebrow, and shook hands with Katherine. 

"There is very little more to tell beyond what I said in my note, "returned Mrs. Liddell. "The poor old man never spoke or showed anysymptom of life after he fell. Mr Newton, of course, will make allarrangements. The funeral will be on Friday, and Katherine and I willremain here till it is over. "

"And the will?" whispered Mrs. Frederic, eagerly. "Have you found outanything about that?"

Mrs. Liddell shook her head. "I have not even asked, so sure am I thatit will not affect us in any way. Mr. Newton is now examining the bureauwhere my brother-in-law appears to have kept all his papers, hoping tofind the will. "

"Is it not cruel to think of all this wealth passing away from us?"cried the little woman, in a tearful tone. 

"I do not suppose that John Liddell was wealthy, " said Mrs. Liddell. "Hewas very careful of what he had, but it does not follow that he had agreat deal. "

"Oh, nonsense! My dear Mrs. Liddell, you only say that to keep us quiet. Misers always have heaps of money. What do you say, Katherine?"

"That from all I saw I should say he was not rich. He never mentionedlarge sums of money, or--"

"I do not mind you, " interrupted the young widow. "You always affect todespise money. "

"Indeed I do not, Ada. I am only afraid of thinking too much of it. "Katherine perceived that her mother had wisely abstained from tellingthe whole circumstances to this most impulsive young person. 

"And do you mean to say, " pursued Mrs. Frederic, who could hardly keepstill, so great was her excitement, "that the horrid lawyer is rummagingthrough the old man's papers all alone? You ought to be present, Mrs. Liddell. You don't know what tricks he may play. He may put a will inhis own favor in some drawer. It is very weak not to have insisted onbeing present, and shows such indifference to our interests!"

"I am not afraid of Mr. Newton forging a will, " said Mrs. Liddell, smiling; "and I greatly fear that whoever may profit by the old man'slast testament, we will not. But I assure you Mr. Newton did ask me toassist in the search, and I declined. Indeed I asked him not to searchwhile the poor remains were unburied. "

"Why, my goodness! you do not mean to say you are pretending to be_sorry_ for this rude--miser!" cried Mrs. Frederic, with uplifted handand eyes. 

"Personally I did not care about him, but, Ada, death demands respect. "

"Oh yes, of course. Then there is absolutely nothing to do or to hear. "

"Nothing, " said Katherine, rather shortly. 

"Could I go out and buy anything for you? Surely the executors, whoeverthey may be, will give you some money for mourning?"

"I do not think it at all likely. I will tell you what you can do, Ada:go to my large cupboard and bring me, " etc. , etc. --sundry directionsfollowed. "Katherine and I can quite well do all that is necessaryourselves to make a proper appearance on Friday. "

"Very well; and I will come to the funeral too, and bring the boys. Alittle crape on their caps and sleeves will be quite enough. They willproduce a great effect. I dare say if I speak to Mrs. Burnett's friend, that newspaper man, he will put an account into the _Morning News_, withall our names. Whatever comes, it would have a good effect. "

"Of course you can come if you like, Ada, but I would not bring theboys. Children are out of place except at a parent's grave. "

"Well, I do not agree with you, and I do not think you need grudge mypoor children that much recognition. "

"Poor darlings! Do you believe we could grudge them anything that wasgood for them?" cried Katherine. 

"Oh, there is no knowing! Pray is there any plate in the house, Katherine, or diamonds? You know the nephew's wife _ought_ to have thediamonds!"

"Do not make me laugh, Ada, while the poor man is lying dead!" exclaimedKatherine, smiling. "The idea of plate or diamonds in _this_ house istoo funny!"

"Then are the spoons and forks only Sheffield ware?" asked hersister-in-law. "How mean!"

After a good deal more cross-examination Mrs. Fred rose to depart, herpretty childish face clouded, not to say very cross. 

"I might have saved myself the trouble of coming here, " she said. 

"We are very glad to see you, and it will be a great help if you cansend or bring the things I want. "

"Perhaps, if I wait a little longer, this admirable Mr. Newton may findsomething, " resumed Mrs. Fred, pausing, and reluctant to move. 

"If he does I will let you know immediately, " said Katherine; "but thereare numbers of little drawers in the bureau; it will take him a longtime to look through them all. "

"Have you seen the inside of it?" asked Mrs. Fred, greedily. 

"I have seen my uncle writing at it, " returned Katherine; "but I neverhad an opportunity of examining it. "

"Well, I suppose I had better go. I am evidently not wanted here!"exclaimed Mrs. Frederic, longing to quarrel with some one, being in thatcondition of mind aptly described as "not knowing what to be at. "Finding no help from her auditors, she went reluctantly away. 

"I wish poor Ada would not allow her imagination to run away with her. It will be such a disappointment when she finds it is all much ado aboutnothing, " said Mrs. Liddell, as she returned to her letter. "I amafraid, Katie dear, you have had a great shock; you do not look a bitlike yourself. "

"I feel dazed and stupid, but I dare say I shall be all rightto-morrow. " She took a book and pretended to read, while her mother'spen scratched lightly and quickly over the paper. 

The light was beginning to change, when a message from Mr. Newtonsummoned both mother and daughter to the sitting-room, where they foundhim awaiting them. 

"I have looked most carefully through the bureau, and can find no signof the will. There are various papers and account-books, a very clearstatement of his affairs, and about a hundred and fifteen pounds ofready money, but no will. I have also looked in his writing-tabledrawer, his wardrobe, and every possible and impossible place. It may beat my office, though I am under the impression he took charge of ithimself. There is a possibility he may have deposited it at his banker'sor his stock-broker's, though that is not probable. "

"It is curious, " remarked Mrs. Liddell, feeling she must say something. 

"Pray, " resumed Newton, addressing Katherine, "have you ever seen himtearing up or burning papers?"

She thought for a moment, and then said quietly, "No, I never have. "

"I can do no more here, at least to-day, " Newton went on. "I must bidyou a good-afternoon. You may be sure I will leave nothing undone todiscover the missing will, and I can only say I earnestly hope I may notbe successful. "

CHAPTER X. 

"FRUITION. "

The funeral over, Mrs. Liddell and her daughter went back to theirmodest home, feeling as though they had passed through some strangedream, which had vanished, leaving "not a wrack behind. "

To Katherine it was like fresh life to return to the natural cheerfulroutine of her daily cares and employments, to struggle good-humoredlywith indifferent servants, to do battle with her little nephews overtheir lessons, to walk with them and tell them stories. At times shealmost forgot that the diligently sought will lay in itsinnocent-looking cover among her clothes, or that any results would flowfrom her daring and criminal act; then again the consciousness of havingweighted her life with a secret she must never reveal would presspainfully upon her, and make her greedy for the moment when Mr. Newtonwould relinquish the search, and she should reap the harvest sheexpected. 

She never believed that her uncle was as rich as Ada supposed, but shedid hope for a small fortune which might secure comfort and ease. 

Mrs. Frederic Liddell was a real affliction during this period. The ideaof inheriting John Liddell's supposed wealth was never absent from herthoughts, and seldom from her lips. Even the boys were infected by hergorgeous anticipations. 

"I shall have a pony like that, and a groom to ride beside me, " Cecilwould cry when his attention was caught by any young equestrian. "And Iwill give you a ride, auntie. Shall you have a carriage too, or will youdrive with mammy?"

"And I shall have a beautiful dog, like Mrs. Burnett's, and a gardenaway in the country, " was Charlie's scheme. "You shall come and dig init, auntie. "

"Do not think of such things, my dears, " was auntie's usual reply. "I amafraid we shall never be any richer than we are; so you must be diligentboys, and work hard to make fortunes for yourselves. "

"Where did Uncle Liddell keep all his money?" was one of Cecil'squestions in reply. "Did he keep it in big bags downstairs? He hadn't anice house; it was quite a nasty one. "

"Had he a big place in a cave, with trees that grow rubies and diamondsand beautiful things?" added Charlie. 

"Why doesn't mamma buy us some ponies now?" continued Cis; "we should besome time learning to ride. "

"I will not listen to you any more if you talk so foolishly. Try andthink of something else--of the Christmas pantomime. You know granniesays you shall go if you do your lessons well, " returned Katherine. 

"It isn't silly!" exclaimed Cecil. "Mammy tells us we must take care ofher when we are rich men, and that we shall be able to hold up our headsas high as any one. _I_ can hold up my head _now_. "

Such conversations were of frequent occurrence, and kept Katherine in astate of mental irritation. 

Toward the end of October Mrs. Burnett brought relief in the shape of aninvitation to Mrs. Frederic. 

The Burnett family were spending the "dark days before Christmas" atBrighton, and thither hied the lively young widow in great glee. Thingsgenerally went smoother in her absence; the boys were more obedient, themeals more punctual. 

Nevertheless Katherine observed that her mother did not settle to herwriting as usual. Occasionally she shut herself up in the study, butwhen Katherine came in unexpectedly she generally found her resting herelbow on the table and her head on her hand, gazing at the blank sheetbefore her, or leaning back in her chair, evidently lost in thought. 

"You do not seem to take much to your writing, mother dear, " saidKatherine one morning as she entered and sat down on a stool beside her. 

"In truth I cannot, Katie. I do not know how it is, but no plots willcome. I have generally been able to devise something on which to hang mycharacters and events; but my invention, such as it is--or ratherwas--seems dried up and withered. What shall I do if my slight vein isexhausted? Heaven knows I produced nothing very original or remarkable, but my lucubrations were saleable, and I do not see how we can dowithout this source of income. "

"You only want rest, " returned Katherine, taking her hand and laying hercheek against it. "Your fancy wants a quiet sleep, and then it will wakeup fresh and bright. Take a holiday; put away pen, ink, and paper; andyou will be able to write a lovely story long before the money we expectfor your novel is expended. "

"I hope so. " She paused, and then resumed, with a sigh: "I ought to havemore sense and self-control at my age, but I confess that theuncertainty about John Liddell's will absorbs me. Suppose, Katie, thathis money were to come to you. Imagine you and I rich enough not to beafraid of the week after next! Why, our lives would be too blissful. "

"They would, " murmured Katherine. "When do you think we shall know?"

"I cannot tell. All possible search must be made before the law can besatisfied. My own impression is that your uncle _did_ destroy his will, intending to make a different distribution of his money, and to providefor you. "

"Yes, I believe he did, " said Katherine, quietly. "I wish--oh, I _do_wish my uncle had had time to divide his property between us all; thenthere would be no ill feeling. But I suppose Cis and Charlie will getsome, even if no will is found?"

"I have no idea. If poor Fred had lived, I suppose he would take ashare. "

They sat silent for some minutes. Then Kate rose and very deliberatelyshut up her mother's writing-book, collected her papers and roughnote-book, and locked them away in her drawer. "Now, dearest mother, "she said, "promise me not to open that drawer for ten days at least, unless a very strong inspiration comes to you. By that time we may knowsomething certain about the will, and at any rate you will have hadchange of occupation. Then put on your bonnet and let us go to see ourfriend Mrs. Wray. Perhaps she may let us see her husband's studio, andif he is there we are sure to have some interesting talk. We both sorelyneed a change of ideas. "

Mrs. Frederic Liddell returned from Brighton in a very thoughtful mood. She said she had had a "heavenly visit. " Such nice weather--such acontrast to dirty, dreary, depressing London! She had met several oldacquaintances, they had had company every night, and had she only had athird evening dress her bliss would have been complete. As it was, aslight sense of inferiority had taken the keen edge off her joy. "At anyrate, the men didn't seem to think there was much amiss with me. SirRalph Brereton and Colonel Ormonde were really quite troublesome. I donot much like Sir Ralph. I never know if he is laughing at me or not, though I am sure I do not think there is anything to laugh at in me. Colonel Ormonde is so kind and sensible! Do you know, Mrs. Liddell, hesays _I_ ought to see Mr. Newton myself, to look after the interests ofmy darling boys, and--and try to ascertain the true state of affairs. That is what Colonel Ormonde says, and I suppose you wouldn't mind, Mrs. Liddell?" she ended, in a rather supplicating tone; for she was just alittle in awe of her mother-in-law, kind and indulgent though she was. 

"Go and see Mr. Newton by all means, Ada, if you feel it would be anysatisfaction to you; but until the right time comes it will be veryuseless to make any inquiries. We leave it all to Mr. Newton. "

"Oh, you and Katherine are so cold and immovable; you are not a bit likeme. I am all sensitiveness and impulse. Well, if it is not raining catsand dogs I _will_ go into that awful City and see Mr. Newtonto-morrow. "

"Would it not be well to make an appointment?"

"Oh dear no! I will take my chance; I would not write. Katie dear, Ihave torn all the flounce off my black and white dinner dress; you areso much more clever with your needle than I am, would you sew it on forme to-morrow?"

"No, I cannot, Ada--not to-morrow at least. I am busy altering mother'swinter cloak, and she has nothing warm to put on until it is finished. Iwill show you how to arrange the flounce, and you will soon do ityourself if you try. "

"Very well"--rather sulkily. "I am sure I was intended to be a richman's wife, I am _so_ helpless. "

"And I am sure I was born under 'a three-half-penny constellation, ' asL. E. L. Said, for I rather like helping myself, " returned Katherine, laughing. "Only I should like to have a little exterior help besides. "

"Do you know, Katherine, I am afraid you are very proud. I believe youthink yourself the cleverest girl in the world. "

"I should be much happier if I did, " said Katherine, good-humoredly. "Don't be a goose, Ada; let my disposition alone. I am afraid it is toodecidedly formed to be altered. "

"Colonel Ormonde was asking for you, " resumed Mrs. Frederic, fearing shehad allowed her temper too much play. "He is quite an admirer of yours. "

"I am much obliged to him. Would you like to come to the theatreto-night? Mr. And Mrs. Wray have a box at the Adelphi, and have offeredus two places. My mother thought you might like to go. "

"With the Wrays? No, thank you. I never seem to get on with them; and ifColonel Ormonde happens to be there (and he might, for he is in townto-day), I should not care to be seen with them; they are not at all insociety, you know. "

"True, " said Katherine, with perfect equanimity. "Then, dear mother, docome. Nothing takes you out of yourself so much as a good play. I shallenjoy it more if you are with us. "

After a little discussion Mrs. Liddell agreed to go, and Mrs. Fredericretired to unpack, and to see what repairs were necessary, in a somewhatsulky mood. 

The following morning Mrs. Liddell's head was aching so severely thather daughter would not allow her to get up. She therefore gave hersister-in-law an early luncheon, and saw her set forth on her visit toMr. Newton. She was a little nervous about it; she wished Katherine togo with her, and yet she did not wish it. 

She attired herself completely in black, and managed to give a mournful"distressed widow" aspect to her toilette: the little woman was anartist in her way, so long as her subject was self and its advantages. Then Katherine devoted herself to her mother, who had taken a chill. Itgrieved her to see how the slightest indisposition preyed upon herstrength. 

The period of waiting was terribly long and wearing. Had she, after all, committed herself to an ever-gnawing loss of self-respect to enrichanother? Katherine asked herself this question more than once. 

She had refrained from troubling Mr. Newton with fruitless questions orimpatient expressions, and her mother admired her forbearance. But intruth Catherine hated to approach the subject of her possibleinheritance, though she never faltered in her purpose of keeping theexistence of her uncle's will a profound secret. 

Mrs. Frederic Liddell returned from her visit to the friendly lawyerrather sooner than Katherine expected. 

The moment she entered the drawing-room, where the latter was dustingthe few china and other ornaments, her countenance evinced unusualdisturbance. 

"I am sure, " she began, in a very high key, "if I had known what I wasgoing to encounter, I should have stayed at home. There's no justice inthis world for the widow and the fatherless. "

"I cannot believe that Mr. Newton could be rude or unkind!" exclaimedKatherine, much startled. 

"I do not say he was, " returned Mrs. Fred, snappishly. "But either he isa stupid old idiot, or he has been telling me abominable stories. Idon't--I can't believe them! Do you know he says he, they, all the oldrogues together, believe that wretched miser had destroyed his will anddied intestate, and that every penny will be yours; not a sou comes tothe widow and children of the nephew. It is preposterous. It is the mostmonstrous injustice. If it is law, an act of Parliament ought to bepassed to--to do away with it. Fancy your having everything, and me, myboys and myself, dependent on _you_!"--scornful emphasis on "you. "

"Is this possible?" exclaimed Katherine, dropping her duster in dismay. "I thought that the property would be divided between the boys andmyself. "

"Why, that is only common-sense! If you _do_ get everything you will bewell rewarded for your three months' penal servitude. You knew what youwere about, though you _do_ despise rank and riches. "

"But, Ada, I suppose my uncle would have destroyed his will whether Ihad been there or not. "

"No. Mr. Newton's idea is that he intended to make a new will, probablyleaving you a large sum, and so destroyed the old one. Mr. Newton thinkshe grew to like you. Oh! you played your cards well! But it is too hardto think you cut out my dar-arling boys, " she ended, with a sob. 

Katherine grew very white; this outburst of fury roused her conscience. She pulled herself together in an instant of quick thought, however. "This is folly. What I have done will benefit the boys more thanmyself, " she reflected. 

"I do not wonder at your being vexed, Ada, " she said, gently. "Butfortunately one is not compelled to act according to law. If the wholeof the fortune, whatever it may be, becomes mine, do you think I wouldkeep it all to myself?"

"I am sure I don't know" said Mrs. Frederic, who had now subsided intothe sulks. "When people get hold of money they seldom like to part withit; and I know you do not like _me_?"

"Why should you think so, Ada? We may not agree in our tastes, but thatis no reason for dislike; and you know how glad I am to be of use toyou, both for your own sake and poor Fred's. "

"Well, I would rather not be dependent on you or any one. But there! Ido not believe what that stupid old man says--I do not believe such ahorrible law exists. I shall write and consult Colonel Ormonde, and findout if I could not dispute the will--no, not the will--the property. Ishould not like to give up my rights. "

"Please, Ada, do not speak so loudly. My mother had just fallen asleepbefore you came in; and she had such a bad night!"

"Loud? I am not talking loudly. You mean to insinuate I am in apassion? I am nothing of the kind. I am perfectly cool, butdetermined--determined to have justice, and my fair share of this man'swealth!"

"It may not be wealth; it may be only competence, and it is not ours toshare yet. "

"Not yours, you mean; that is what you _thought_, Katherine. And as towealth, I believe that cruel old miser was _enor_mously rich! Where arethe boys?"

"Out walking with Lottie. I am _so_ glad they were not in to hear allthis! Do not talk to them of being rich, dear Ada; it puts unhealthyideas into their minds, and--"

"Upon my word! I like to hear _you_, a mere girl, not quite nineteenyet, advising me, a mother, a married woman, about my own children. Youneed not presume on your expected riches. _I'll_ never play the part ofa poor relation, and submit to be lectured by _you_. "

Her sister-in-law's stings and passing fits of ill-humor never irritatedKatherine unless they worried her mother, nor did this most unwontedoutburst of irrepressible indignation, but it distressed her. "Come, Ada, don't be cross, " she said. "It was perhaps want of tact in me tosuggest anything, though my idea is right enough. It is quite naturalthat you should be awfully vexed. Perhaps Mr. Newton _is_ wrong; at allevents, if the law is unjust, _I_ need not act unjustly, and believe me, I _will_ not. "

"I hope not, " returned the young widow, a little mollified. "I alwaysbelieve you haven't a bad heart, Katherine, though you have adisagreeble sullen temper. Now _I_ am too open; you see the worst of meat once; but I do not remember unkindness; and if you do what is rightin this, I--I shall always speak of you as you deserve. Do get mesomething to eat; I am awfully hungry, and though I hate beer, I willtake some; it is better than nothing. How _you_ go on on water I cannotimagine; it will ruin your digestion. "

So they went amicably enough into the dining-room together, one to beministered to, the other to minister. 

Here the boys joined them; but for a wonder their mother was silentrespecting her visit to the lawyer, and soon went away to write toColonel Ormonde, on whom she had conferred, unasked, the office of primecounsellor and referee. This opened up a splendid field for letters fullof flattering appeals to his wisdom and judgment, and touching littleconfessions of her own weakness, folly, and need for guidance. 

"DEAR MISS LIDDELL, --I should be glad if you could call onTuesday next about one o'clock. I have various documents to show you, or I should not give you the trouble to come here. If Mrs. Liddell isdisengaged and could come also it would be well. I am yours faithfully, A. NEWTON. "

Such was the letter which the first post brought to Katherine about sixweeks after the death of John Liddell. 

Katherine, who always rose and dressed first, found it on the table whenshe went down to give the boys their breakfast, to coax the fire to burnbrightly if it was inclined to be sulky, and to make the coffee for hermother and Mrs. Fred. 

As soon as she had seen the two little men at work on their bread andmilk she flew back to her mother. 

"Do read this! Do you think that Mr. Newton wants me because I am tohave my uncle's money at last?"

"Yes, I do. There can be no other reason for his wishing to see you, dearest child. What a wonderful change it will make if this is the case!I can then cease, to mourn the failure of my poor powers, and let thepublishers go free. My love, I did not think anything could affect youso much. You are white and trembling. "

"I have been more anxious than you knew, " returned Katherine, who feltstrangely overcome, curiously terrified, at the near approach ofsuccess--the success she had ventured on so daring an act to secure. "Igreatly feared some other claimant--some other will, I mean--might befound. "

"Yes, I feared too. Yet there could be no claimant, apart from anotherwill. Poor George, your uncle's only son, was killed, I remember. Take alittle water, dear, and sit down. No, I did not fear another claimantwhen I thought, but I feared to hope too much. "

"I feel all right now, mother. Such a prospect does not kill. Suppose wesay nothing to Ada--she will worry our lives out--not at least till weknow our fate certainly?"

"Perhaps it will be better not. "

"And whatever I get we will share with the dear children, and give Adasome too. Oh, darling mother, think of our being alone together again, and tolerably at ease!"

It would be wearisome to the reader were the details of the interviewwith Mr. Newton minutely recorded. 

He was evidently relieved and delighted to announce that all attempts tofind the will had failed, and explained at some length to his veryattentive listeners the steps to be taken and the particulars of theproperty bequeathed; how it devolved on Katherine to take out letters ofadministration; how at her age she had the power of choosing her ownguardian for the two years which must elapse before she was of age; andfinally that the large amount of which she had become mistress was sojudiciously invested that he (Mr. Newton) could advise no change savethe transference of stock to her name. 

As it dawned upon Katherine that the sum she inherited amounted tosomething over eighty thousand pounds, she felt dizzy with surprise andfear. She had no idea she had been playing for such stakes. The sense ofsudden responsibility pressed upon her; her hands trembled and her cheekpaled. 

"My dear young lady, you look as if you had met a loss instead ofgaining a fortune, " said Mr. Newton, looking kindly at her. "I have nodoubt you will make a good use of your money, and I trust will enjoymany happy days. "

"But my nephews, my sister-in-law, do they get nothing?"

"Not a penny. Of course you can, when of age, settle some portion uponthem. "

"I certainly will; but in the mean time--"

"In the mean time I will take care that you have a proper allowance. "

"Thank you, dear Mr. Newton. Do get me something big enough to make usall comfortable, and I can share with Ada--with Mrs. Frederic. I do sowant to take my mother abroad, and I could not leave Ada and the boysunless they were well provided for. "

"Make your mind easy; the court will allow you a handsome income. So youmust cheer up, in spite of the infliction of a large fortune, " added Mr. Newton, with unwonted jocularity. 

"Both Katherine and myself are warmly grateful for your kind sympathy, "said Mrs. Liddell, softly. Then, after a short pause, she asked, "Do youknow what became of Mr. Liddell's unfortunate wife?"

"She died eleven or twelve years ago. The family of--of the man shelived with had the audacity to apply for money, on account of herfuneral, I think, and so I came to know she was dead. It was a sadbusiness. The poor woman had a wretched life, but I don't think she wasin any want. "

"I only asked, because if she was in poverty--"

"Oh, " interrupted the lawyer, "if she were alive, she would have hershare of the estate, as her marriage was never dissolved. "

A short pause ensued, and then Newton asked if Miss Liddell would likesome money, as he would be happy to draw a check for any sum sherequired. Then, indeed, Katherine felt that her days of difficulty wereover. 

Mrs. Liddell and her daughter were in no hurry to leave their humblehome. In truth Katherine was more frightened than elated at the amountof property she had inherited, and would have felt a little less guiltyhad she only succeeded in obtaining a moderate competence. 

A curious stunned feeling made her incapable of her usual activity forthe first few days, and averse even to plan for the future. 

She kept her sister-in-law quiet by a handsome present of moneywherewith to buy a fresh outfit for herself and her boys. Finally sheroused up sufficiently to persuade Mrs. Liddell to see an eminentphysician, for she did not seem to gather strength as rapidly as herdaughter expected. 

The great man, after a careful examination, said there was nothing verywrong; the nervous system seemed to be a good deal exhausted, and thebronchial attack of the previous year had left the lungs delicate, butthat with care she might live to old age. 

He directed, however, that Mrs. Liddell should go as soon as possible toa southern climate. He recommended Cannes or San Remo--indeed it wouldbe advisable that several winters in future should be spent in a moregenial atmosphere than that of England. 

This advice exactly suited the wishes both of Katherine and her mother. 

How easy it was to make arrangements in their altered circumstances! Howmagical are the effects of money! How quickly Katherine grew accustomedto the unwonted ease of her present lot! _If_--oh, if--she were everfound out, how should she bear it? How could she endure the pinch ofpoverty, added to the poison of shame? But the idea that all this wealthwas really _hers_ gained on her, while her fears were lulled to sleep bya pleasant sense of comfort and security. 

Mrs. Frederic Liddell was a good deal disturbed on hearing that hermother-in-law was ordered abroad. 

"Pray what is to become of _me_?" was her first question when Katherineannounced the doctor's verdict. They were sitting over the fire in thedrawing-room, after the boys had said good-night. 

"Would you prefer staying in England?" asked Mrs. Liddell. 

"For some reasons I should, but you know I _must_ have something to liveon. "

"I know that, " returned Katherine. "As I cannot execute any any deed ofgift for two years, I think I had better give you an allowance foryourself and the boys, and let you do as you like. I have talked withMr. Newton about it. "

"Well, dear, I think it _would_ be the best plan, " said Mrs. Frederic, amiably. "I have not the least scruple in taking the money, because youknow it ought really to be ours. "

"Exactly, " returned Katherine, with a slight smile, and she named soliberal a sum that even Mrs. Fred was satisfied. 

"Well, I am sure that is very nice, dear, " she said; "and when you areof age will you settle it on my precious boys?"

"I will, " replied Katherine, deliberately; "and I hope always to see agreat deal of them. "

"Of course you will, but you will not long be Katherine Liddell. WhenMr. Wright comes, my boys will get leave to stay with their mother asmuch as they like. "

"I do not think I shall easily forget them, even if Mr. Wright appears, "said Katherine, good-humoredly. 

"What a strange girl Katie is!" pursued her sister-in-law. "Was shenever in love, Mrs. Liddell? Had she never any admirers?"

"Not that I know of, Ada. "

"Oh! I have been in love many times!" cried Katherine, laughing. "Don'tyou remember, mother, the Russian prince I used to dance with at Madamedu Lac's juvenile parties?--I made quite a romance about him; and thatyoung Austrian--I forget his name--whom we met at Stuttgart, BaronHoldenberg's nephew; he was charming, to say nothing of Lohengrin andTannhauser. I have quite a long list of loves, Ada. Oh, I _should_ liketo dance again! To float round to the music of a delightful Austrianband would be charming. "

"My dear Katherine, that is all nonsense, as you will find out one day. "Then, after some moments of evidently severe reflection, her brows knit, and her soft baby-like lips pressed together she said: "I think I shouldlike to move nearer town, and get a nice nursery governess for Cis andCharlie, and--Don't you think it would be a good plan?"

"The governess, yes, as they will lose their present one when Katherinegoes. But why not stay on here till next autumn, when the lease oragreement expires? You will have it all to yourself in about ten days, and it will be quite large enough, " said Mrs. Liddell. 

"Stay on here!" began her daughter-in-law, in a high key, and with alook of great disgust. She stopped herself suddenly, however, smoothedher brow, and added, "Well, I will think about it, " after which, withunusual self-control, she changed the subject, and talked gravely aboutgovernesses, their salaries and qualifications, till it was time to goto bed. 

A few days after this conversation the house was invaded by a host ofapplicants for the post of instructress to the two little boys. Everyshade of complexion, all possible accomplishments, the most varied andsplendid testimonials, were presented to the bewildered little widow, inconsequence of her application to a governesses' institution. She wasfain to ask Katherine to help her in choosing, much to the latter'ssatisfaction, as she did not like to offer assistance, though she wishedto influence the choice of a preceptress. Together they fixed on aquiet, kindly looking young woman, to whom both took rather a fancy, andKatherine felt very much relieved to know that this important point wassettled. 

But Mrs. Frederic did not seem at ease; there was a restlessness abouther, a disinclination to leave the house, that attracted Katherine'snotice, although she was much occupied with preparations for theirdeparture. At last the mystery was solved. 

One afternoon Mrs. Liddell and Katherine had been a good deal later thanusual in returning home, having determined to finish their shopping andtake a few days' complete rest before starting on their travels. 

Mrs. Frederic met them with a heightened color and a curious embarrassedlook. The drawing room was lit by a splendid fire, and sweet with theperfume of abundant hot-house flowers; there was something vaguelyprophetic in the air. 

"Do come to the fire, dear Mrs. Liddell; you must be so cold! I havebeen quite uneasy about you, " she exclaimed, effusively. 

"Have you had a visitor, Ada?" asked Katherine, whose suspicions werearoused. 

"I have, and I want to tell you all about it. I am far too candid tokeep anything from those I love. My visitor was Colonel Ormonde. Heasked me to marry him, and--and, dear Mrs. Liddell--Katherine--I hopeyou will not be offended, but I--I said I would, " burst forth Mrs. Frederic; and then she burst into tears. 

There was a minute's silence. Katherine flushed crimson, and did notspeak, but Mrs. Liddell said, kindly: "My dear Ada, if you think ColonelOrmonde will make you happy and be kind to the boys, you are quiteright. I never expected a young creature like you to live alone for therest of your existence, and I believe Colonel Ormonde is a man ofcharacter and position. "

"He is indeed, " cried Ada, falling on her mother-in-law's neck. "You arethe wisest, kindest woman in the world. And you, Katherine?"

"I _do_ hope you will be _very, very_ happy, " responded Katherine; "butI must say I think he is rather too old for you. That, however, is youraffair. "

"Yes, of course it is"--leaving Mrs. Liddell to hug Katherine. "I amquite fond of him; that is, I esteem and like him. Of course I shallnever love any one as I did my dear darling Fred; but I do want some oneto help me with the boys, and Marmaduke (that's his name) is quite fondof them. So now, dear Mrs. Liddell, I will stay on here till--till I ammarried, if you don't mind. "

"It is the best thing you can do, Ada. I wish we could stay and bepresent at your marriage. "

"But that is impossible, " cried Katherine. 

"And not at all necessary, " added Mrs. Frederic, hastily. "My friendMrs. Burnett will help me in every way, and I have been trouble enoughalready. "

"I do not think so, " said Mrs. Liddell, quietly. "But I am very weary. Iwill go to my room. Katie dear, bring me some tea presently. "

And the widow escaped to rest, perhaps to weep over the bright boy sodear to her, so soon forgotten by the wife of his bosom. 

Not many days after, Katherine and her mother set forth upon theirtravels, leaving nothing they regretted save the two little boys, respecting whose fate Katherine felt anything but satisfied. Of this shesaid nothing to her mother. And so, with temporary forgetfulness of thedeed which was destined to color her whole life, she saw the curtainfall on the first act of her story. 

CHAPTER XI. 

"A NEW PHASE. "

"An interval of three weeks--six months--ten years, " as the case maybe--"is supposed to have elapsed since the last act. " This is a verycommonly used expression in play-bills, and there seems no just cause orimpediment why a story-teller should not avail himself of the samedevice to waft the patient reader over an uneventful period, duringwhich the hero or heroine has been granted a "breathing space" betweenthe ebb and flow of harrowing adventures and moving incidents. 

It was, then, more than two years since the last chapter, and a stillcold day at the end of February--still and somewhat damp--in one of themidland shires--say Clayshire. The dank hedges and sodden fields had amelancholy aspect, which seemed to affect a couple of horsemen who werewalking their jaded, much-splashed horses along a narrow road, orrather lane, which led between a stretch of pasture-land on one side anda ploughed field on the other. The red coats and top-boots of both wereliberally besprinkled with mud; even their hats had not quite escaped. Their steeds hung their heads and moved languidly; both horses andriders had evidently had a hard day's work. Presently the road slopedsomewhat steeply to a hollow sheltered at one side by a steep bankovergrown with brushwood and large trees. The country behind thehuntsmen was rather flat and very open, but from this point it becamebroken and wooded, sloping gradually up toward a distant range of lowblue hills. 

"Ha, you blundering idiot!" exclaimed the elder of the two men, pullingup his horse, a powerful roan, as he stumbled at the beginning of thedescent. He was a big, heavy man with a red face, thick gray mustache, and small, angry-looking eyes. "He'll break my neck some day. "

"Don't take away his character, " returned his companion, laughing. "Remember he has had a hard run, and you are not a feather-weight. " Thespeaker was tall (judging from the length of the well-shaped leg whichlay close against his horse's side), large-framed, and bony; his plainstrong face was tanned to swarthiness by exposure to wind and weather;moreover, a pair of deep-set dark eyes and long, nearly black mustacheshowed that he had been no fair, ruddy youth to begin with. 

"No, by Jove!" exclaimed the first speaker. "I don't understand how itis that I grow so infernally stout. I am sure I take exercise enough, and live most temperately. "

"Exercise! Yes, for five or six months; the rest of the twelve you donothing. And as to living temperately, what with a solid breakfast, aheavy luncheon, and a serious dinner, you manage to consume a great dealin the twenty-four hours. "

"Come, De Burgh! Hang it, I rarely eat lunch. "

"Only when you can get it. Say two hundred and ninety times out of thethree hundred and sixty-five days of the year. "

"I admit nothing of the sort. The fact is, what I eat goes into a goodskin. Now you might _cram_ the year round and be a bag of bones at theend of it. "

"Thank God for all his mercies, " replied De Burgh. "The fact is, you area spoiled favorite of fortune, and in addition to all the good thingsyou have inherited you pick up a charming wife who spoils you andcoddles you in a way to make the mouth of an unfortunate devil likemyself water with envy. "

"None of that nonsense, De Burgh, " complacently. "The heart of abenedict knoweth its own bitterness, though I can't complain much. Ifyou hadn't been the reckless _roue_ you are, you might have been as welloff as myself. "

De Burgh laughed. "You see, I never cared for domestic bliss. I hatefetters of every description, and I lay the ruin of my morals to thescore of that immortal old relative of mine who persists in keeping meout of my heritage. The conviction that you are always sure of anestate, and possibly thirty thousand a year, has a terrible effect onone's character. "

"If you had stuck to the Service you'd have been high up by this time, with the reputation you made in the Mutiny time, for you were littlemore than a boy then. "

"Ay, or low down! Not that I should have much to regret if I were. Ihave had a lot of enjoyment out of life, however, but at present I amcoming to the end of my tether. I am afraid I'll have to sell the fewacres that are left to me, and if that gets to the Baron's ears, good-byto my chance of his bequeathing me the fortune he has managed to scrapetogether between windfalls and lucky investments. The late Baroness hada pot of money, you know. "

"I know there's not much property to go with the title. "

"A beggarly five thousand a year. I say, Ormonde, are you disposed for agood thing? Lend me three thousand on good security? Six per cent. , oldman!"

"I am not so disposed, my dear fellow! I have a wife and my boy to thinkof now. "

"Exactly, " returned the other, with a sneer. "You have a new edition ofColonel Ormonde's precious self. "

"Oh, your sneers don't touch me! You always had your humors; still I amwilling to help a kinsman, and I will give you a chance if you like. What do you say to a rich young wife--none of your crooked sticks?"

"It's an awful remedy for one's financial disease, to mortgage one'sself instead of one's property; still I suppose I'll have to come to it. Who is the proposed mortgagee?"

"My wife's sister. "

"Oh!"

The tone of this "Oh!" was in some unaccountable way offensive toColonel Ormonde. "Miss Liddell comes of a very good old county family Ican tell you, " he said, quickly; "a branch of the Somerset Liddells; andwhen I saw her last she was the making of an uncommon fine woman. "

"But your wife was a Mrs. Liddell, was she not?"

"Yes. This girl is her sister-in-law, really, but Mrs. Ormonde looks onher as a sister. "

"Hum! She _has_ the cash? I suppose you know all about it?"

"Well, yes, you may be sure of sixty or seventy thousand, which wouldkeep you going till Lord de Burgh joins the majority. "

"Yes, that might do; so 'trot her out. '"

"She is coming to stay with us in a week or two, before the hunting isquite over, so you will be down here still. "

"I suspect I shall. The lease of the lodge won't be out till nextSeptember, and I may as well stay there as anywhere. "

"Katherine Liddell is quite unencumbered; she has neither father normother, nor near relation of any kind; in fact Mrs. Ormonde and myselfare her next friends, and in a few weeks she will be of age. "

"All very favorable for her, " said De Burgh, in his careless, commandingway. His tones were deep and harsh, and though unmistakably one of the"upper ten, " there was a degree of roughness in his style, which, however, did not prevent him from being rather a favorite with women, who always seemed to find his attentions peculiarly flattering. 

"Come, " cried Ormonde, "let us push on. I am getting chilled to thebone, and we are late enough already. "

He touched his horse with the spur, and both riders urged their steedsto a trot. Turning a bend of the road, they came suddenly upon a younglady accompanied by two little boys, in smart velvet suits. They werewalking in the direction of Castleford--walking so smartly that thesmaller of the two boys went at a trot. "Hullo!" cried Colonel Ormonde, pulling up for an instant. "What are you doing here? I hope the baby hasnot been out so late?"

"Baby has gone to drive with mother, " chorussed the boys eagerly, as ifa little awed. 

"All right! Time you were home too, " and he spurred after De Burgh. 

"Mrs. Ormonde's boys?" asked the latter. 

"Yes; have you never seen them?"

"I knew they existed, but I cannot say I ever beheld them before. "

"Oh, Mrs. Ormonde never bores people with her brats. "

"After they are out of infancy, " returned the other, dryly. 

A remark which helped to "rile" Colonel Ormonde, and he said little moretill they reached their destination, and both retired to enjoy theluxury of a bath before dressing for dinner. 

John de Burgh was a distant relation of Ormonde's, but having beenthrown together a good deal, they seemed nearer of kin than they reallywere. De Burgh was somewhat overbearing, and dominated Colonel Ormondeconsiderably. He was also somewhat lawless by nature, hating restraintand intent upon his own pleasure. The discipline of military life, lightas it is to an officer, became intolerable to him when the excitementand danger of real warfare were past, and he resigned his commission tofollow his own sweet will. 

Ultimately he became renowned as a crack rider, and one of the beststeeple-chase jockeys on the turf in all competitions between gentlemen. 

Mrs. Ormonde considered him quite an important personage, heir to an oldtitle, and first or second cousin to a host of peers. It took many a dayto accustom her to think of her husband's connections without a sense ofpride and exultation, at which Ormonde laughed heartily whenever heperceived it. On his side De Burgh thought her a very pretty little toy, quite amusing with her small airs and graces and assumption offine-ladyism, and he showed her a good deal of indolent attention, atwhich her husband was rather flattered. 

The rector of the parish and one or two officers of Colonel Ormonde'sold regiment, which happened to be quartered at a manufacturing town afew miles distant, made up the party at dinner that evening, andafterward they dropped off one by one to the billiard-room, till Mrs. Ormonde and De Burgh found themselves _tete-a-tete_. 

"Do you wear black every night because it suits you down to the ground?"he asked, after very deliberately examining her from head to foot, whenhe had thrown down a newspaper he had been scanning. 

"No; I am in mourning. Don't you see I have only black lace and jet, anda little crape?"

"Ah! and that constitutes mourning, eh? Well, there is very littlemourning in your laughing eyes. Who is dead?"

"My mother-in-law. "

"Your mother-in-law! I didn't know Ormonde----"

"I mean Mrs. Liddell; and I am quite sorry for her; she was wonderfullyfond of me, and very kind. "

"Why, what an angel you must be to fascinate a _belle-mere_! Then thedear departed must be the mother of that Miss Liddell whom Ormonde wasrecommending to me this afternoon?"

"Who--my husband? How silly! She would not suit you a bit. "

"Well, Ormonde thought her fortune might. "

"Oh, her fortune! that is another thing. But she will not be so veryrich if she fulfils her promise to settle part of her fortune on myboys. You see, if their poor father had lived, he would have sharedtheir uncle's money with his sister. Now it is too hideously unjust thatmy poor dear boys should have nothing, and Katherine is very properlygoing to make it up to them. "

"A young woman with a very high sense of justice. A good deal under theinfluence of her charming sister-in-law, I presume. "

"Well, rather, " returned Mrs. Ormonde, with an air of superiority. "Katherine is a mere enthusiastic school-girl, easily imposed upon. BothColonel Ormonde and myself feel bound to look after her. "

"Will she let you?" asked De Burgh, dryly. 

"Of course she will. She knows nothing of the world, or at least verylittle, for she did not go much into society while they were abroad. "

"Has she been abroad?"

"Yes; Mrs. Liddell was out of health when Katherine came into thismoney, and they have been away in Italy and Germany and Paris for quitetwo years. They were on their way home when Mrs. Liddell was taken ill. She died in Paris, of typhoid fever, just before Christmas. "

"Two years in Italy, Germany, and Paris, " repeated De Burgh; "she can'tbe quite a novice, then. "

"Oh, she thinks she knows a great deal; and she _is_ a nice girl, thoughcurious and fanciful. I like her very much indeed, but I do not fancy_you_ would. She is certainly obstinate. Instead of coming direct to us, and making her home here, as we were quite willing she should, she hasgone to Miss Payne, a woman who, I believe, exists by acting chaperon torich girls with no relations. Fancy, she has absolutely agreed to livewith this Miss Payne for a year before consulting us, or asking ourconsent--or--or anything!"

"Is she not a minor?"

"She will be of age in a week or two, and it makes me quite nervous tothink that other influences may prevent her keeping her promise to myboys. It is a mercy she did not marry some greedy foreigner while shewas under age. Fortunately, men never seemed to take a fancy toKatherine. "

"They will be pretty sure to take a fancy to her money. "

"I think she lived so quietly people did not suspect her of having any. She is awfully cut up about the death of her mother, and does not goanywhere. I hope she will come down here next week. The only person I amafraid of is a horrid stiff old lawyer who seems to be her right handman. He went over to Paris when Mrs. Liddell died, and did everything, instead of sending for Colonel Ormonde! I felt quite hurt about it. "

"Ha! a shrewd old lawyer is bad to beat, " said De Burgh, looking at hislively informant with half-closed eyes and an amused expression. "Iwouldn't be too sure of your sister if I were you. Under such guidancethe young lady may alter her generous intentions. "

"Pray do not say such horrible things, Mr. De Burgh!" cried Mrs. Ormonde, growing very grave, even pathetic, and looking inclined to cry. "What would become of me--I mean us--if she changed her mind? 'Dukewould be furious; he would never forgive me. "

"Pooh! nonsense! a man would forgive a woman like you anything. "

"A woman, perhaps, but not his wife, " she returned, shaking her head. "But I won't think of anything so dreadful. I am quite sure Katie willnever break her word; she is awfully true. "

"That is rather an alarming character. You make me quite curious. Whatis she like--anything like you?"

"Not a bit. You know, she is only my sister-in-law. She is tall andlarge, and much more decided"--looking up in his face with a caressingsmile. 

"I understand. Not a delicate little darling, made for laughter andkisses, and sugar, and spice, and all that's nice, like _you_. " Thiswith an insolent, admiring look. "Not a woman to fall in love with, butuseful as a wife to keep one's household up to the collar. "

"Really, Mr. De Burgh, you are very shocking! You must not say suchthings to me. "

"Mustn't I? How shall you prevent me? I am a relative, you know. Youcan't treat me as a stranger. "

"You are quite too audacious--" she was beginning, when a slim youngcornet came back from the billiard-room. 

"The Colonel wants you, Mrs. Ormonde, " he said; "and you too, De Burgh. We are not enough for pool, and you play a capital game, Mrs. Ormonde. "

"What are the stakes?" asked De Burgh, rising readily enough. 

"Oh, I can't play well at all, " said Mrs. Ormonde, following him withevident reluctance. "Certainly not when Colonel Ormonde is looking on. "

"Oh, never mind him. I'll screen you from his hypercritical eyes, "returned De Burgh, as he held the door open for her to pass out. 

So it was, after a spell of heavenly tranquility, as Katherine and hermother were on their way to England, intending to make a home in or nearLondon, Mrs. Liddell had been struck down with fever, and Katherine wasleft unspeakably desolate. Then she turned to her old friend Mr. Newton, and found him of infinite use and comfort. 

A short space of numb inaction followed, during which she fully realizedthe loneliness of her position, and from which she roused herself toplan her future. 

At the time Mrs. Liddell was first attacked with fever they had justrenewed their acquaintance with a Miss Payne, whom they had met in Romeand at Berlin. She was not unknown in society, for she came of a goodold county family, and was half-sister of the Bertie whose name hasalready appeared in these pages. 

Their father, with an old man's pride in a handsome only son, had leftthe bulk of his fortune to Bertie, while Hannah, who had ministered tohis comfort and borne his ill-humor, inherited only a paltry couple ofhundred a year, with a fairly well furnished house in Wilton Street, Hyde Park. Her brother would have willingly added to this pittance, butshe sternly refused to accept what did not of right belong to her. Bertie went with his regiment to India, whence he returned a wiser, apoorer, and a physically weaker man. 

His sister, whose business instincts were much too strong to permit herwrapping up such a "talent" as a freehold house in the napkin ofunfruitful occupation, looked round to see how she could best turn it toaccount. Accident threw in her way a girl of large fortune with norelations, whose guardians, thankful to find a respectable home for her, readily agreed to pay Miss Payne handsomely for taking charge of theorphan. Her first _protegee_ married well, under her auspices, and fromhenceforth her house was rarely empty. Sometimes she accepted a rovingcommission and travelled with her charge, meanwhile letting her house intown, so making a double profit. It was on one of these expeditions thatshe was introduced to Mrs. And Miss Liddell. There was an air ofsincerity and common-sense about the composed elderly gentlewoman whichrather attracted the former, and, when they met again in Paris, MissPayne came to Katie in her trouble and proved a brave and capable nurse;nor was she unsympathetic, though far from effusive. So, finding thatMiss Payne's last young lady had left her, Katherine, with the approvalof Mr. Newton, proposed to become her inmate for a year--an arrangemententirely in accordance with Miss Payne's wishes. 

"I did not know you were acquainted with Miss Liddell, " she said oneevening when she was sitting with her brother, Katherine having retiredearly, as she often did. "It is quite a surprise to me. "

"I can hardly say I am acquainted with her; I happened to be of someslight use to her once, and I met her after by accident, when we spoke;that is all. "

"I wonder she did not mention it to me. "

"I imagine she hardly knew my name. " Miss Payne uttered an inarticulatesound between a h'm and a groan, by which she generally expressedindefinite dissent and disapprobation. Then she rose and walked to thedwarf bookcase at the end of the room to fetch her tatting. She was talland slight. Following her, you might imagine her young, for her figurewas good and her step brisk. Meeting her face to face, her pale, slightly puckered cheeks, closely compressed lips, keen light eyes, andcrisp pepper-and-salt hair--Cayenne pepper, for it had once beenred--suggested at least twenty or twenty-five additional years ascompared with the back view. 

Returning to her seat, she began to tat, slowing drawing each knot homewith a reflective air. 

"That woman is hunting her up, " she exclaimed suddenly, after a fewminutes' silence, during which Bertie looked thoughtfully at thefire--his quiet face, with its look of unutterable peace, the strongestpossible contrast to his sister's hard, shrewd aspect. 

"What woman?" asked, as if recalled from a dream. 

"Mrs. Ormonde. There was a telegram from her this afternoon. She hasbeen worrying Miss Liddell to go to them ever since she set foot inEngland; and as that won't do, she is coming up to-morrow to see whatpersonal persuasion will do. "

"I dare say Mrs. Ormonde is fond of her sister-in-law. She is too welloff to have any mercenary designs. "

"Is that all your experience has taught you?" (contemptuously). "Ifthere is any truth in hand-writing, that Mrs. Ormonde is a fool. Herletter after Mrs. Liddell's death, which Katherine showed me because ittouched her, was the production of an effusive idiot. I don't trustsentimentalists; they seldom have much honesty or justice. KatherineLiddell is a little soft too, but she is by no means so asinine as theothers I have had. Wait, however--wait till some man takes her fancy;that is the divining-rod to show where the springs of folly lie. "

"Miss Liddell is a good deal changed, " returned Bertie, slowly. "Shelooks considerably older. No, that is not the right expression: I meanshe seems more mature than when I saw her before. What she says is saiddeliberately; what she does is with the full consciousness of what sheis doing; but she looks as if she had suffered. "

"She has, " said Miss Payne, with an air of conviction. "Her grief forher mother was, is, deep and real. I don't believe in floods oftears--they are a relief. "

"Yes; and though she looks so pale and sad, she is not a whit lessbeautiful than she was. "

"Beautiful!" repeated Miss Payne. "I rather admire her myself, but Idon't think any one could call her beautiful. "

"Perhaps not. There is so much expression in her face, such feeling inher eyes, that not many really beautiful women would stand comparisonwith her. "

Miss Payne sniffed, and then she smiled. "She is not a commonplace youngwoman, though I fear she is easily imposed upon. I am afraid she may besnapped up by some plausible fortune-hunter. "

Bertie frowned slightly. "I trust she may be guided to happiness withsome good, God-fearing man, " he said, and then, he bid his sistergood-night somewhat abruptly. 

Meantime, Katherine sat plunged in thought beside the fire in herbedroom. She was not given to weeping, but she was profoundly sad. Tofind herself again in London without her mother seemed to renew theintense grief which had indeed lost but little of its keenness. Neverhad a mother been more terribly missed. They had been such sympatheticfriends, such close companions; they had had such a hearty respect forand appreciation of each other's qualities, such a pleasantcomprehension of each other's different tastes, that it would be hard tofill the place of the dear, lost comrade with whom she had hithertowalked hand in hand. It soothed her to think of the delightfultranquility Mrs. Liddell had enjoyed for the last two years, of theuntroubled sweetness of their intercourse, of her mother's lastcontented words: "I am quite happy, dear. Your future is secure, and youhave never given me a moment's pain. We have had such delightful daystogether!"

How could she have borne to have seen a pained, anxious look--such alook as was once familiar to them--in those dear eyes, as they closedforever on this mortal scene! Oh, thank God for the heavenly security ofthose last days whatever the price she had paid for them!

Motherless, she was utterly desolate. It would be long, long before shecould find any one to fill her mother's place, if she ever did. For thepresent she was satisfied to stay with Miss Payne, but she did not thinkshe could ever love her. The idea of residing with Colonel Ormonde andhis wife was distasteful. The most attractive scheme was to beg herlittle nephews from their mother, and take them to live with her. Shewas almost of age, and _felt_ old enough to set up for herself. As shepondered on these things she felt bitterly that, rich or poor, ahomeless woman is a wretched creature. 

At last she went to bed, and lay for a while watching the fire-light asit cast flickering shadows, thinking of the tender, watchful love whichhad dropped away out of her life; and with the murmured words, "Dear, dear mother!" on her lips she fell asleep. 

The next day broke bright and clear, though cold, and having keptKatherine at home all day, Mrs. Ormonde made her appearance in time forafternoon tea. 

"My dear, dearest Katherine!" cried the little woman, fluttering in, allfur and feathers, in the richest and most becoming morning toilette, looking prettier and younger than ever, "I am _so_ delighted to see youonce more! Why have you staid in town, instead of coming straight tous?" and she embraced her tall sister-in-law effusively. 

Katherine returned her embrace. For a moment or two she could notcommand her voice; the sight of the known childish face, the sound ofthe shrill familiar voice, brought a flood of sudden sorrow over herheart; but Mrs. Ormonde was not the sort of woman to whom she couldexpress it. 

"And _I_ am very glad to see _you_, Ada! How well you are looking--evenyounger and fairer than you used!"

"Yes, I am uncommonly well; and you, dear, you are looking pale and illand older! You will forgive me, but I am quite distressed. You must comedown to Castleford at once. "

"Thank you. Where are the boys? I hoped you would bring them. "

"Oh, Colonel Ormonde thought they would be too troublesome for me in ahotel, so I left them behind. They were awfully disappointed, poordears; but it is better _you_ should come down and see them. Cecil isgoing to school after Easter, and I believe Charlie must go soon. "

"I long to see them, " said Katherine, assisting her visitor to take offher cloak. 

"And _I_ long to show you my new little boy, " cried Mrs. Ormonde, drawing a chair to the fire, and putting her small, daintily shod feeton the fender. "He is a splendid child, amazingly forward for sixmonths. "

"I am glad you are so happy, Ada; I shall be pleased to make theacquaintance of my new nephew. I suppose I may consider him a sort ofnephew?"

"My dear, of _course_! Colonel Ormonde, as well as myself, is proud toconsider you his aunt. Yes, I am very happy--though Ormonde _is_ ratherprovoking sometimes; still, he is not half bad, and I know how to managehim. You are _such_ a favorite with my husband, Katie. He admires you somuch, I sometimes threaten to be jealous--why, what is the matter, dear?"

Katherine had suddenly covered her face with her handkerchief and burstinto tears. 

"Do not mind me, Ada!" she said, when she could speak. "It was just thatname; no one has called me Katie except my mother and you, and the ideathat I should never hear her speak again overpowered me for a moment. "

Mrs. Ormonde was puzzled. Not knowing what to do in face of a greatgrief, she took out her own pocket-handkerchief politely. 

"Of course, dear, " she said; "it is quite natural. I was awfully cut upwhen I heard of your sad loss--and mine too, for I am sure Mrs. Liddellloved me like her own child; it was quite wonderful for a mother-in-law. I was afraid to speak to you about her, but I am sure she would like youto live with us; it is your natural home. And--and she would, I am sure, be pleased if she can know what is going on here below, to see that youfulfilled your kind intentions to her poor little grandsons. " These lastwords with some hesitation. 

Katherine kept silence, and still held her handkerchief to her eyes. SoMrs. Ormonde resumed: "A good, religious girl like you, Katherine, mustfeel that it is right to submit to the will of--"

"Yes, yes; I know all about that, " interrupted Katherine, who was ratherirritated than soothed by her sister-in-law's attempt at preaching; andrecovering herself, she added: "I will not worry you with my tears. Tellme how the boys get on with Colonel Ormonde. "

"Very well indeed, especially Cecil. 'Duke is very kind. They have apony, and quite enjoy the country; but now that we have a boy of ourown, we feel doubly anxious that Cis and Charlie should be permanentlyprovided for; so do, dear, come back with me, and talk it all over withmy husband. He is _such_ a good man of business. "

Katherine smiled faintly; she had not seen the drift of Mrs. Ormonde'sremarks at first; there was no mistaking them now. A slightlymischievous sense of power kept her from setting her sister-in-law'smind at rest immediately. 

"I do not think it necessary to consult with Colonel Ormonde, Ada, for Ihave quite made up my mind what to do. I think you may trust your boysto me. I must see Mr. Newton and arrange many matters, so I do not thinkI can go to you just yet. Then, I do not like to be in the way, and Icould _not_ mix in society just yet. Oh, I am not morbid or sentimental, but some months of seclusion I _must_ have. "

Mrs. Ormonde played with the tassel of the screen with which shesheltered her face from the fire while she thought: "What can she reallymean to do? I wonder if she is engaged to any one, and waiting for himhere? Once she is married, good-by to a settlement. She is awfullydeep!" Then she said aloud, coaxingly, "Oh, we are very quiethome-staying people. We have a few men to stay now and again, but wenever give big dinners. Tell me the truth, dear, are you not engaged? Itwould be but natural. A charming girl like you, with a large fortune, could not escape a multitude of lovers. "

"You are wrong, Ada. I am not engaged, and I have no lovers. Of course aprince or two and a German graf did me the honor of proposing to annexmy property, taking myself with it. Any well-dowered girl may expectsuch offers in Continental society; but they did not affect me. "

"No, no; certainly not! It will be an Englishman. Quite right. And 'Dukemust find out all about him. You know, dear, you would marry ever somuch better from _my_ house than you possibly could _here_, with aperson who, after all, merely keeps a _pension_. "

"If Miss Payne could hear you!" said Katherine. 

"Oh, I should never say it to her. But, Katherine, now is your time, when you are of age, and before you marry--now is the time to settlewhatever you intend to settle on my poor little boys. I am sure you willexcuse me for mentioning it, won't you? Between you and me, I don'tthink 'Duke would have married if he had not believed you would providefor Cis and Charlie. I don't know what would become of us if they werethrown on his hands. "

"You need not fear, " cried Katherine, quickly. "My nephews shall nevercost Colonel Ormonde a sou. "

"No, I was sure you wouldn't, dear, you are such a kind, generouscreature, so unselfish. I do hate selfishness, and though the allowanceyou now give is very handsome--"

"I am to make it a little larger, " put in Katherine, good-humoredly, asMrs. Ormonde paused, not knowing how to finish her sentence. "Becontent, Ada; you shall have due notice when I have made all my plans. Ihave a good deal to do, for I ought to make my will too. "

"Your will! Oh yes, to be sure. I never thought of that. But if youmarry it will be of no use. "

"Until I _am_ married it will be of use. "

"And when do you intend to come to us?"

"Oh, some time next month. "

"I hope so. I want to come up for a while after Easter, and am trying toget the Colonel to take a house; _that_ depends on you a good deal. Ifyou would join me in taking a house for three months he would agree atonce. "

"But I have just agreed to stay with Miss Payne for a year. "

"How foolish! how short-sighted!" cried Mrs. Ormonde. "You will be justlost in a second-rate place like this. "

"It will suit me perfectly. I only want rest and peace at present. Idare say it will not be so always. "

"Well, I know there is no use in talking to you. You will go your ownway. Only, as I am in town, _do_ come to my dressmaker's. Though you hadyour mourning in Paris, do you know, you look quite dowdy. You'll notmind my saying so?"

"I dare say I do. Miss Payne got everything for me. "

"Oh, are you going to give yourself into her hands blindfold? I amafraid she is a designing woman. You really must get some stylishdresses. You must do yourself justice. "

"I have as many as I want, and there is no need of wasting money, evenif you have a good deal. How many poor souls need food and clothes!"

"Oh, Katherine, if you begin to talk in that way, you will be robbed andplundered to no end. "

"I hope not. Here is tea, and Miss Payne. I will come and see youto-morrow early, and bring some little presents for the boys. "

CHAPTER XII. 

"I WAS A STRANGER AND YE TOOK ME IN. "

Mrs. Ormonde lingered as long as she could. Bond Street was paradise toher, Regent Street an Elysian Field. While she staid she gave hersister-in-law little peace, and until she had departed Katherine did notattempt to go into business matters with Mr. Newton. She was halfamused, half disgusted, at Mrs. Ormonde's perpetual reminders, hints, and innuendoes touching the settlement on her boys. Ada was the same asever, yet Katherine liked her for the sake of the memories she evokedand shared. 

It was quite a relief when she left town, and Katherine felt once moreher own mistress. Her heart yearned for her little nephews, but she feltit was wiser to wait and see them at home rather than send for them atpresent. She greatly feared that the new baby, the son of a living, prosperous father, was pushing the sons of the first husband--who hadtaken his unlucky self out of the world, where he had been anything buta success--from their place in her affections. 

Meantime she held frequent consultations with Mr. Newton, who was verydevoted to her service, and anxious to do his best for her. Heremonstrated earnestly with her on her over-generosity to her nephews. "Provide for them if you will, my dear young lady, but believe me youare by no means called upon to _divide_ your property with them. Do notmake them too independent of you; hold something in your hand. Besides, you do not know what considerations may arise to make you regret toogreat liberality. "

"I have very little use for money now, " said Katherine, sadly. 

"You have always been remarkably moderate in your expenditure, " returnedthe lawyer, who had the entire management of her affairs. "But now youwill probably like to establish yourself in London, say, forheadquarters. "

"Not for the present. I shall stay where I am until some plan of lifesuggests itself. "

"Perhaps you are right, and certainly you are a very prudent younglady. "

This conversation took place in Mr. Newton's office, and after somefurther discussion Katherine was persuaded to settle a third instead ofthe half of her property on her nephews, out of which a jointure was tobe paid to Mrs. Ormonde. 

"I wish I could have the boys with me, " said Katherine, as she rose toleave Mr. Newton. 

"My dear Miss Liddell, take care how you saddle yourself with thedifficult task of standing _in loco parentis_; leave the very seriousresponsibilities of bringing up boys to the mother whose they are. Atyour age, and with the almost certainty of forming new ties, such a stepwould be very imprudent. "

"At all events I shall see how they all get on at Castleford before Icommit myself to anything. You will lose no time, dear Mr. Newton, ingetting this deed ready for my signature. I do not want to say anythingabout it till it is 'signed, sealed, and delivered. '"

"It shall be put in hand at once. When shall you be going out of town?"

"Not for ten days or a fortnight. "

"The sooner the better. I do not like to see you look so pale and sad. Excuse me if I presume in saying so. Well, I don't think your uncle everdid a wiser act than in destroying that will of his before he madeanother. The extraordinary instinct he had about money must have warnedhim that his precious fortune would be best bestowed on so prudent yetso generous a young lady as yourself. "

"Don't praise me, Mr. Newton, " said Katherine, sharply. "Could you seeme as I see myself, you would know how little I deserve it. "

"I am sure I should know nothing of the kind, " returned the old lawyer, smiling. Katherine was a prime favorite with him--quite his ideal of acharming and admirable woman. All he hoped was that when the sharp edgeof her grief had worn off she would mix in society and marry some highlyplaced man worthy of her, a Q. C. , if one young enough could be found, who was on the direct road to the woolsack. 

The evening of this day Bertie Payne came in, as he often did afterdinner. Katherine was always pleased to see him. He brought a breath ofgenial life into the rather glacial atmosphere of Miss Payne'sdrawing-room. Yet there was something soothing to Katherine in theorderly quiet of the house, in the conviction, springing from she knewnot what, that Miss Payne liked her heartily in her steady, undemonstrative fashion. She never interfered with Katherine in any way;she was ready to go with her when asked, or to let her young guest go onher own business alone and unquestioned, while she saw to her comfort, and proved much more companionable than Katherine expected. 

On this particular evening which marked a new mental epoch for KatherineLiddell, the two companions were sitting by the fire in Miss Payne'scomfortable though rather old-fashioned drawing-room, the curtainsdrawn, the hearth aglow, Miss Payne engaged on a large piece ofpatchwork which she had been employed upon for years, while Katherineread aloud to her. This was a favorite mode of passing the evening; itsaved the trouble of inventing conversation--for Miss Payne was notloquacious--and it was more sympathetic than reading to one's self. MissPayne, it need scarcely be said, had no patience with novels; biographyand travels were her favorite studies; nor did she disdain history, though given to be sceptical concerning accounts of what had happenedlong ago. She had never been so happy and comfortable with any of her_protegees_ as with Katherine, though, as she observed to her brother, she did not expect it to last. "Stay till she is a little known, and themothers of marriageable sons get about her; then it will be the oldthing over again--dress, drive, dance, hurry-scurry from morning tillnight. However, I'll make the most of the present. "

Miss Payne, then, and her "favored guest" were cozily settled for theevening when Bertie entered. 

"May I present myself in a frock coat?" he asked, as he shook hands withKatherine. "I have had rather a busy day, and found myself in yourneighborhood just now, so could not resist looking in. "

"At your usual work, I suppose, " said Miss Payne, severely. "Pray haveyou had anything to eat?"

"Yes, I assure you. I dined quite luxuriously at Bethnal Green about anhour and a half ago. "

"Ha! at a coffee-stall, I suppose; a cup of coffee and a ha'p'orth ofbread. I must insist on your having some proper food. " Miss Payne putforth her hand toward the bell as she spoke. 

"Do not give yourself the trouble; I really do not want anything, norwill I take anything beyond a cup of tea. " Bertie drew a chair besideKatherine, asked what she was reading, and talked a little about thenews of the day. Then he fell into silence, his eyes fixed on the fire, a very grave expression stilling his face. 

"What are you thinking of?" asked his sister. "What misery have you beensteeping yourself in to-day?"

"Misery indeed, " he echoed. Then, meeting Katherine's eyes fixed uponhim, he smiled. "Of course I see misery every day, " he continued, "but Idon't like to trouble you with too much of it. To-day I met with anunusually hard case, and I am going to ask you for some help towardrighting it. "

"Tell me what you want, " said Katherine. 

"Are you sure the story is genuine?" asked Miss Payne. 

"I am quite sure. I went into Bow Street Police Court to-day, intendingto speak to the sitting magistrate about some children respecting whomhe had asked for information, when I was attracted by the face of awoman who was being examined; she was poorly clad, but evidentlyrespectable--like a better class of needle-woman. I never saw a faceexpress such despair. It seemed she had been caught in the act ofstealing two loaves from the shop of a baker. The poor creature did notdeny it. Her story was that she had been for some years a widow; thatshe had supported herself and two children by needle-work andmachine-work. Illness had impoverished her and diminished herconnection, other workers having been taken on in her absence. In shortshe had been caught in that terrible maelstrom of misfortune from which_no_ one can escape without a helping hand. Her sewing machine wasseized for rent; one article after another of furniture and clothes wentfor food; at last nothing was left. She roamed the city, reduced to begat last, and striving to make up her mind to go to the workhouse, thecry of the hungry children she had left in her ears. At several bakers'shops she had petitioned for food and had been refused. At last, entering one while the shop-girl's back was turned, she snatched acouple of small loaves and rushed out into the arms of a policeman, whohad seen the theft through the window. "

"And would the magistrate punish her for this?" asked Katherine, eagerly. 

"He must. Theft is theft, whatever the circumstances that seem toextenuate it. Nothing, no need, gives a right to take what does notbelong to you. But, for all that, I am certain the poor creature hasbeen honest hitherto, and deserves help. She is committed to prison forstealing, and I promised her I would look to her children; so I havebeen to see them, and took them to the Children's Refuge that you werekind enough to subscribe to, Miss Liddell. To-morrow we must do what wecan for the mother. I imagine it is worse than death to her to be put inprison. "

"I do not wonder at it, " ejaculated Miss Payne. "And in spite of whatyou say, Bertie, I should not like to give any materials to be made upby a woman who deliberately stole in broad daylight. "

"I do not see that the light made any difference, " returned Bertie; andthey plunged into a warm discussion. Katherine soon lost the sense ofwhat they were saying. Her heart was throbbing as if a sudden stunningblow had been dealt her, and the words, "Theft is theft, whatever thecircumstances that seem to extenuate it, " beat as if with asledge-hammer on her brain. 

If for a theft, value perhaps sixpence, this poor woman, who had beendriven to it by the direst necessity, was exposed to trial, to the gazeof careless lookers-on, to loss of character, to the exposure of hersore want, to the degradation of imprisonment, what should be awarded toher, Katherine Liddell, an educated gentlewoman, for stealing a largefortune from its rightful owner, and that, too, under no pressure ofimmediate distress? True, she firmly believed that had her uncle notbeen struck down by death he would have left her a large portion of it;that she had a better right to it than a stranger. Still that did notalter the fact that she was a thief. If every one thus dared to infringethe rights of others, what law, what security would remain?

These ideas had never quite left her since the day she had written"Manuscript to be destroyed" on the fatal little parcel, which had beenever with her during her various journeyings since. More than once shehad made up her mind to destroy it, but some influence--some terror ofdestroying this expression of what her uncle once wished--had stayed herhand; her courage stopped there. Perhaps a faint foreshadowing of somefuture act of restitution caused this reluctance, unknown to herself, but certainly at present no such possibility dawned upon her. She feltthat she held her property chiefly in trust for others, especially hernephews. Often she had forgotten her secret during her mother'slifetime, but the consciousness of it always returned with a sense ofbeing out of moral harmony, which made her somewhat fitful in herconduct, particularly as regarded her expenditure, being sometimestempted to costly purchases, and anon shrinking from outlay as thoughnot entitled to spend the money which was nominally hers. Nathan'sparable did not strike more humiliating conviction to Israel's erringking than Bertie Payne's "ower true tale. " At length she mastered thesepainful thoughts, and sought relief from them in speech. 

"What do you think of doing for this poor woman?" she asked, taking ascreen to shelter her face from the fire and observation. 

"I have not settled details in my own mind yet, " he said; "but as soonas she is released I must get her into a new neighborhood and redeem hersewing-machine. Then, if we can get her work and help her till shebegins to earn a little, she may get on. "

"Pray let me help in this, " said Katherine, earnestly. "I live quite aselfish life, and I should be thankful if you will let me furnish whatmoney you require. "

"That I shall with great thankfulness. But, Miss Liddell, if you areanxious to find interesting work, why not come and see our Children'sRefuge and the schools connected with it? Then there is an associationfor advancing small sums to workmen in time of sickness, or to redeemtheir tools, which is affiliated to a ladies' visiting club, the membersof which make themselves acquainted personally with the men and theirfamilies. "

"I shall be most delighted to go with you to both, but I do not think Icould do any good myself. I am so reluctant to preach to poor people, who have so much more experience, so much more real knowledge of life, than I have, merely because they _are_ poor. "

"I do not want you to do so, but I think personal contact with thepeople you relieve is good both for those benefited and theirbenefactor. "

"I suppose it is; and those poor old people who cannot read or areblind, I am quite willing to read to them if they like it. "

"I can find plenty for you to do, Miss Liddell, " Bertie was beginningwhen his sister broke in with:

"This is quite too bad, Bertie. You know I will not have you dragging myyoung friends to catch all sorts of disorders in the slums. You must becontent with Miss Liddell's money. "

"Miss Payne, I really do wish to see something of the work on which yourbrother is engaged, and--forgive me if I seem obstinate--I am resolvedto help him if I can. "

The result of the conversation was that the greater portion of thecontents of Miss Liddell's purse was transferred to Bertie's, and heleft them in high spirits, having arranged to call for Katherine thenext day in order to escort her to the Children's Refuge and some otherinstitutions in which he took an interest. 

From this time for several weeks Katherine was greatly occupied in thebenevolent undertakings of her new friend. The endless need, thedegradations of extreme poverty, the hopeless condition of such massesof her fellow-creatures, depressed her beyond description. She wouldgladly have given to her uttermost farthing, but it would be a mere dropin the ocean of misery around. 

"Even if we could supply their every want, and give each family a decenthome, " she said to Bertie one evening as she walked back with him, "theywould not know how to keep it or to enjoy it. If the men, and the womentoo, have not the tremendous necessity to labor that they may live, theyrelax and become mere brutes. We must, above all things, educate them. "

"Yes, education is certainly necessary; but the most ignorant being whohas laid hold on the Rock of Ages, who has received the spirit ofadoption whereby he can cry, 'Abba, Father!' has a means of elevationand refinement beyond all that books and art can teach, " cried Bertie, with more warmth than he usually allowed himself to show. 

"You believe that? I cannot say I do. We need other means of moral andintellectual life besides spiritualism. At least I have tried to bereligious, but I always get weary. "

"That is only because you have not found the straight and true road, "said Bertie, earnestly. "Pray, my dear Miss Liddell--pray, and lightwill be given you. "

"Thank you--you are very good, " murmured Katherine "At all events, though we can do but little, it is a comfort to help some of these poorcreatures, especially the children and old people. "

"It is, " he returned. "And if it be consolatory to minister to theirphysical wants, how much more to feed their immortal souls!"

Katherine was silent for a few minutes, and then said: "It is impossiblethey can think much about their souls when they suffer so keenly intheir bodies. Poverty and privation which destroy self-respect cannotallow of spiritual aspiration. Is it to be always like this--one classsteeped in luxury, the other grovelling in cruel want?"

"Our Lord says, 'Ye have the poor always with you, '" returned Bertie. "Nor can we hope to see the curse of original sin lifted from life herebelow until the great manifestation; in short, till Shiloh come. "

"Do you think so? I do not like to think that Satan is too strong forGod, " said Katherine, thoughtfully. 

Bertie replied by exhorting her earnestly not to trust to mere humanreason, to accept the infallible word of God, "and so find safety andrest. " Katherine did not reply. 

"I think you could help me in a difficult case, " said Bertie, a few daysafter this conversation. 

"Indeed!" said Katherine, looking up from the book she was reading bythe fire after dinner. "What help can I possibly give?"

"Hear my story, and you will see. "

"I shall be most happy if I can help you. Pray go on. "

"You know Dodd, the porter and factotum at the Children's Refuge? Well, Dodd has a mother, a very respectable old dame, who keeps a very mildsweety shop, and also sells newspapers, etc. Mrs. Dodd, besides thesesources of wealth, lets lodgings, and seems to get on pretty well. NowDodd came to me in some distress, and said, 'Would you be so good, sir, as to see mother? she wants a word with you bad, very bad. ' I of coursesaid I was very ready to hear what she had to say. So I called at thelittle shop, which I often pass. I found the old lady in great troubleabout a young woman who had been lodging with her for some time. She, Mrs. Dodd, did not know that her lodger was absolutely ill, but shescarcely eats anything, she never went out, she sometimes sat up halfthe night. Hitherto she had paid her rent regularly, but on lastrent-day she had said she could only pay two weeks more, after which shesupposed she had better go to the workhouse. When first she came sheused to go out looking for work, but that ceased, and she seemed in ahalf-conscious state. As I was a charitable gentleman, would I go andspeak to her? Well, rather reluctantly, I did. I went upstairs to adreary back room, and found a decidedly lady-like young woman, neatlydressed enough, but ghastly white with dull eyes. She seemed to bedusting some books, but looked too weary to do much. She was notsurprised or moved in any way at seeing me. When I apologized forintruding upon her, she murmured that I was very good. Then I asked if Icould help her in any way. She thanked me, but suggested nothing. When Ipressed her to express her needs, she said that life was not worthworking for, but that she supposed they would give her something to doin the workhouse, and she would do it. As for seeking work, she couldnot, that she was a failure, and only cared not to trouble others. I wasquite baffled. She was so quiet and gentle, and spoke with suchrefinement, that I was deeply interested. I called again this morning, and she would hardly answer me. As she is young (not a great deal olderthan yourself), perhaps a lady--a woman--might win her confidence. Sheseems to have been a dressmaker. Could you not offer her someemployment, and draw her from the extraordinary lethargy which seems todull her faculties? No mind can hold out against it; she will die orbecome insane. "

"It is very strange. I should be very glad to help her, but I feelafraid to attempt anything. I shall be so awkward. What can I say tobegin with?"

"Your offering her work would make an opening. Do try. I am sure hercase needs a woman's delicate touch. "

"I will do my best, " said Katherine. "It all sounds terriblyinteresting. Shall I go to-morrow?"

"Yes, by all means. I am so very much obliged to you. I feel you willsucceed. "

"Don't be too sure. "

The next day, a drizzling damp morning, Katherine, feeling unusuallynervous, was quite ready when Bertie called for her. The drive to CamdenTown seemed very long, but it came to an end at last, all the soonerbecause Bertie stopped the cab some little way way from the sweety shop. 

"I have brought a young lady to see your invalid, " said Bertie, introducing Katherine to Mrs. Dodd, a short broad old lady, with a shawlneatly pinned over her shoulders, a snowy white cap with black ribbons, and a huge pair of spectacles, over which she seemed always trying tolook. 

"I'm sure it's that kind of you, sir. And I _am_ glad you have come. Thepoor thing has been offering me a nice black dress this morning to lether stay on. It's the last decent thing she has. I expect she has beenjust living on her clothes. I'll go and tell her. Maybe miss will comeafter me, so as not to give her time to say no?"

Katherine cast a troubled look at Bertie. "Don't wait for me, " she said;"your time is always so precious. I dare say I can get a cab formyself. " And she followed Mrs. Dodd up a steep narrow dark stair. 

"Here is a nice lady come to see you, " said Mrs. Dodd, in a soothingtone suited to an infant or a lunatic. 

"No, no; I don't want any lady; I would rather not see any lady, " crieda voice naturally sweet-toned, but now touched with shrill terror. Curiously enough, this token of fear gave Katherine courage. Here wassome poor soul wanting comfort sorely. 

"Do not forbid me to come in, " she said, walking boldly into the room, and addressing the inmate with a kind bright smile. "I very much wantsome needle-work done, and I shall be glad if you will undertake it. "While she spoke, Mrs. Dodd retired and softly closed the door. Katherinefound herself face to face with a ladylike-looking young woman, smalland slight--slight even to extreme thinness--fair-skinned, with largeblue eyes, delicate features, a quantity of fair hair carelessly coiledup, and with white cheeks. The strange pallor of her trembling lips, thedespair in her eyes, the shrinking, hunted look of face and figure, almost frightened her visitor. "I hope you are not vexed with me forcoming in, " faltered Katherine, deferentially; "but they said you wantedemployment, and I should like to give you some. You must be ill, youlook so pale. Can I not be of some use to you?"

The girl's pale cheek flushed as, partially recovering herself, shestood up holding the back of her chair, her eyes fixed on the floor; sheseemed endeavoring to speak, but the words did not come. At last, in alow, hesitating voice: "You are too good. I have tried to find workvainly; now I do not think I have the force to do any. " The color fadedaway from the poor sunken cheeks, and the eyes hid themselvespersistently under the downcast lids. 

"I am sure you are very weak, " returned Katherine, tenderly, for therewas something inexpressibly touching in the hopelessness of thestranger's aspect. "But some good food and the prospect of employmentwill set you up, When you are a little stronger and know me better youwill perhaps tell me how Mr. Payne and I can best help you. We all wanteach other's help at times; and life must not be thrown away, you know. I do not wish to intrude upon you, but you see we are nearly of an age, and we ought to understand and help each other. It is my turn now; itmay be yours by-and-by. "

"Mine!" with unspeakable bitterness. 

"Do sit down, " said Katherine, who felt her tears very near her eyes, "and I will sit by you for a little while. Why, you are unfit to stand, and you are so cold!" She pulled off her gloves, and taking one of thepoor girl's hands in both her own soft warm ones, chafed it gently. Nodoubt practically charitable people would smile indulgently atKatherine's enthusiastic sympathy; but she was new to such work, andfelt that she had to deal with no common subject. Whether it was thetender tone or the kindly touch, but the hard desperate look softened, and big tears began to roll down, and soon she was weeping freely, quietly, while she left her hand in Katherine's, who held it in silence, feeling how the whole slight frame shook with the effort to controlherself. 

At length Katherine rose and went downstairs to take counsel with Mrs. Dodd. "She seems quite unable to recover herself. Ought she not to havea little wine or something?"

"Yes, miss; it's just _that_ she wants. She is nigh starved to death. "

"Have you any wine?"

"Well, no, miss; but there's a tavern round the corner where you can getvery good port from the wood. I'll send the girl for a pint. "

"Pray do, and quickly, and some biscuits or something; here is somemoney. What is her name?"

"Trant--Miss Trant, " returned Mrs. Dodd, knowing who her interrogatormeant. "Leastways we always called her miss, for she is quite the lady. "

Katherine hurried back, and found Miss Trant lying back in her chairgreatly exhausted. With instinctive tact Katherine assumed an air ofauthority, and insisted on her patient eating some biscuits soaked inwine. 

Presently Miss Trant sat up, and, as if with an effort raised her eyesto Katherine's. "I am not worth so much trouble, " she said. "You deservethat I should obey you. It is all I can do to show gratitude. If, then, you will be content with very slow work, I will thankfully do what youwish; but I must have time. "

"So you shall, " cried Katherine, delightedly. "You shall have plenty oftime to make me a dress; that will be more amusing than plain work. Iwill bring you the material to-morrow, and if you fit me well, you know, it may lead to a great business;" and she smiled pleasantly. 

"What is your name?" asked the patient, feebly. Katherine told her. "Youare so good, you make me resigned to live. "

"Do you care to read?"

"I used to love it; but I have no books, nor could I attend to the senseof a page if I had. "

"If you sit here without book or work, I do not wonder at your beinghalf dead. "

"Not nearly half dead yet; dying by inches is a terribly long process. Iam dreadfully strong. "

"I will not listen to you if you talk like that. Well, I will bring yousome books--indeed, I will send you some at once if you will promise toread and divert your thoughts. To-morrow afternoon I will come, youshall take my measure (I like to be made to look nice), and you shallbegin again. "

"Begin again! Me! That would be a miracle. "

"Now try and get a little sleep, " said Katherine, "your eyes look soweary. You want to stop thinking, and only sleep can still thought. Whenyou wake you shall find some of the new magazines, and you must try andattend to them. "

"I will, for your sake. "

"Good-by, then, till to-morrow;" and having pressed her hand kindly, Katherine departed. 

It was quite a triumph for Katherine to report her success to Bertiethat evening. Miss Payne rather shook her head over the whole affair. 

"I must say it puts me on edge altogether to hear you two rejoicing overthis young woman's condescension in accepting the work you lay at herfeet, while such crowds of starving wretches are begging and praying forsomething to do; and here is a mysterious young woman with lady-likemanners and remarkable eyes, taken up all at once because she won't eatand refuses to speak. It isn't just. I suspect there is something in herpast she does not like to tell. "

"Your _resume_ of the facts makes Mr. Payne and me seem rather foolish, "said Katherine. "Yet I am convinced she is worth helping, and that nocommon methods will do to restore to her any relish for life. Sheinterests me. I may be throwing away my time and money, but I will riskit. "

"It is hard to say, of course, whether she is a deserving object ornot, " added Bertie, thoughtfully; "and I have been taken in more thanonce. "

"More than once?" echoed his sister in a peculiar tone. 

"Still, I feel with Miss Liddell that this girl's, Rachel Trant's, isnot a common case, " continued Bertie. 

"Her very name is suggestive of grief, " said Katherine, "and she, too, refuses to be comforted. I am sure she will tell me her story later. Herlandlady says she never receives or sends a letter, and does not seem tohave a creature belonging to her. Such desolation is appalling. "

"And shows there is something radically wrong, " added Miss Payne. 

"I acknowledge that it has a dubious appearance, " said Bertie, andturned the conversation. 

Katherine was completely taken out of herself by the interest andcuriosity excited by her meeting with Rachel Trant. She visited herdaily, and saw that she was slowly reviving. She took a wonderfulinterest in the dress which Katherine had given her to make, and, moreover, succeeded in fitting her admirably. She was evidently weak andunequal to exertion, yet she worked with surprising diligence. Hermanner was very grave and collected--respectful, yet always ready torespond to Katherine's effort to draw her out. 

The subject on which she spoke most readily was the books Katherine lenther. Her taste was decidedly intelligent and rather solid. To thesurprise of her young benefactress, she expressed a distaste fornovels--stories, as she called them. "I used to care for nothing else, "she said; "but they pain me now. " She expressed herself like aneducated, even refined, woman; and though she said very little aboutgratitude, it showed in every glance, in the very tone of her voice, andin her ready obedience to whatever wish Katherine expressed. Thegreatest sacrifice was evidently compliance with her new friend'ssuggestion that she should take exercise and breathe fresh air. 

Miss Payne, after critically examining Katherine's new garment, declaredit really well made, inquired the cost, and finally decided that shewould have an every-day dress for herself, and that "Miss Trant" shouldmake it up. Then Katherine presented the elegant young woman who waitedon her with a gown, promising to pay for the making if she employed herprotegee. 

"Miss Trant" could not conceal her reluctance to come so far from thewilds of Camden Town; but she came, closely muffled in a thick gauzeveil, doubtless to guard against cold in the chill March evening. Katherine was immensely pleased to find that both gowns gavesatisfaction, though the "elegant young woman's" praise was cautious andqualified. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

RECOGNITION. 

"After all, life is inexhaustible, " said Katherine. 

She was speaking to Rachel Trant, who had laid aside her work to speakwith the good friend who had come, as she often did, to see how she wasgoing on and to cheer her. 

"Life is very cruel, " she returned. "Neither sorrow nor repentance canalter its pitiless law. 

"Still, there are compensations. " Katherine did not exactly think whatshe was saying; her mind was filled with the desire of knowing herinterlocutor's story. 

"Compensations!" echoed Rachel. "Not for those who deserve to suffer, nor, indeed, often for the innocent. I don't think we often find vicepunished and virtue rewarded in history and lives--true stories, Imean--as we do in novels. "

Katherine did not reply at once; she thought for a moment, and then, looking full into Rachel's eyes, said: "I wonder how you came to be adressmaker? You have read a great deal for a girl who must have had herhands full all day. I am not asking this from idle curiosity, but fromreal interest. "

"I may well believe you. I should like to tell you much; but--" Shepaused and grew very white for a second, her lips trembling, and atroubled look coming into her eyes. "I always loved reading, " sheresumed; "it has been almost my only pleasure, though I was apprenticedto a milliner and dressmaker when little more than sixteen. Then I wentto work with another, a very great person in her way, and I like thework. Still I used to think I was a sort of lady; my poor mothercertainly was. "

"I am sure of it, " cried Katherine, impulsively. "I quite feel that_you_ are. "

"Thank you, " said Rachel, in a very low voice, the color rising to herpale cheek. "My mother was so sweet and pretty, " she continued, "but sosad! I was an orphan at ten years old, and then a very stiff, severe-looking woman, the sister of my father, had charge of me. I wassent to a school, a kind of institution, not exactly a charity school, for I know something was paid for me. It was a very cold sort of place, but I was not unhappy there. I had playfellows--some kind, somespiteful. One of the governesses was very good to me, and used to giveme books to read. Had she remained, things might have been verydifferent; but she left long before I did. The rare holidays when I waspermitted to visit my father's sister were terrible days to me. Shecould not bear to see me. I felt it. She seemed to think my veryexistence was an offence. I was ashamed of living in _her_ presence. Ofmy father I have a very faint recollection. He died abroad, and Iremember being on board ship for a long time with my mother. When I wassixteen my father's sister sent for me, and told me that the money mymother left was nearly exhausted, and what remained ought to provide mewith some trade or calling by which I could earn my own bread; that shedid not think I was clever enough to be a governess, so she advised myto apprentice myself to a dressmaker. I had seen enough of teaching inschool, so I took her advice. At the same time she gave me some papersmy mother had left for me. _They_ fully explained why my existence wasan offence--why I belonged to nobody. It was a bitter hour when I readmy dear mother's miserable story. I felt old from that day. Well, Ithanked my father's sister--mind you, she was not my aunt--for what shehad done, and promised she should never more be troubled with me. I havekept my word. "

Katherine, infinitely touched by the picture of sorrow and lonelinessthis brief story conjured up, took and pressed the thin quivering handthat played nervously with a thimble. Rachel glanced at her quickly, compressed her lips for an instant, and went on:

"I will try and tell you all. You ought to know. As far as work went, Idid very well. I loved to handle and drape beautiful stuffs--I enjoycolor--and it pleased me to fit the pretty girls and fine ladies whocame to our show-rooms. It was even a satisfaction to make the plainones look better. I should have made friends more easily with mycompanions but for the knowledge of what I was. Even this I might havegot over--I am not naturally morbid--but I could not share their chatterand jests, or care for their love affairs. They were not bad, poorthings! but simply ordinary girls of a class to which it would havebeen, perhaps, better for me to belong. With my employers I did fairlywell. They were sometimes just, sometimes very unjust; but when I wasout of my time, and receiving a salary, I found I was a valued_employee_. Then it came into my mind that I should like to found abusiness--a great business. It seemed rather a 'vaulting ambition' forso humble a waif as myself. But I began to save even shillings andsixpences. I tried to kill my heart with these duller, lower aims, itached so always for what it could not find. I began to think I wasgrowing so useful to madame that she might make me a partner; for evenin millinery mental training is of use. " She stopped, and clasping herhands, she rested them on her knee for a few moments of silence, whileher brow contracted as if with pain. "It is dreadfully hard to go on!"she exclaimed at length, and her voice sounded as if her mouth wereparched. 

"Then do not mind now; some other time, " said Katherine, softly. 

"No, " cried Rachel, with almost fierce energy; "I _must_ finish. Icannot leave _you_ ignorant of my true story. " She paused again, andthen went on quickly, in a low tone: "I don't think I was exactlypopular--certainly not with the men employed in the same house. I wasthought cold and hard, and to me they were all utterly uninteresting. One or two of the girls I liked, and they were fond of me. " Anotherpause. Then she pushed on again: "One evening I went out with anothergirl and her brother--at least she said he was her brother--to see theilluminations for the Queen's birthday. In Pall Mall we got into a crowdcaused by a quarrel between two drunken men. I was separated from mycompanions, and one of the crowd, also tipsy, reeled against me. Ishould have been knocked down but for a gentleman who caught me; he hadjust come down the steps from one of the clubs. I thanked him. He kindlyhelped me to find my companions. He came on with us almost to the doorof Madame Celine's house. He talked frankly and pleasantly. Two daysafter I was going to the City on madame's business. He met me. He saidhe had watched for me. There! I cannot go into details. We metrepeatedly. For the first time in my life I was sought, and, as Ibelieved, warmly loved. I knew the unspeakable gulf that opened for me, but I loved him. At last there was light and color in mypoverty-stricken existence. " She stopped, and a glow came into her sadeyes. "I was bewildered, distracted, between the passion of my heart andthe resistance of my reason. I ceased to be the efficient assistant Ihad been. I was rebuked, and looked upon coldly. Six months after I hadmet _him_ first, I gave madame warning. I said I was going into thecountry. So I was, but not alone. No one asked me any questions; no onehad a right. I belonged to no one, was responsible to no one, couldwound no one. I was quite alone, and, oh, so hungry for a little loveand joy!" She paused, and then resumed rapidly, "I was that man'sunwedded wife for nearly two years. " She rested her arm on the table, and hid her face with her hand. 

Katherine listened with unspeakable emotion. The eloquent blood flushedcheek and throat with a keen sense of shame. She had read and heard ofsuch painful stories, but to be face to face with a creature who hadcrossed the Rubicon, overpassed the great gulf, which separates thesheep from the goats was something so unexpected, so terrible, that shecould not restrain a passionate burst of tears. "Ah, " she murmured atlast, "you were cruelly deceived, no doubt. You are too hard uponyourself. You----"

"No, Miss Liddell; I am trying to tell you the whole truth. The man Iloved never deceived me--never held put any hope that we could marry. Hewas not rich; there were impediments--what, I never knew. But I thoughtsuch love as he professed, and at the time felt for me, would last; andso long as he was mine, I wanted nothing more. Have you patience to hearmore, or have I fallen too low to retain your interest?"

"Ah, no! tell me everything. "

"I was very happy--oh, intensely happy for a while. Then a tiny cloud ofindifference, thin and shifting like morning mist, rose between us. Itdarkened and lowered. He was a hasty, masterful man, but he was neverrough to me. Gradually I came to see that time had changed me from a joyto a burden. How was it I lived? How was it I shut my eyes and hoped? Atlast he told me he was obliged to go abroad, but that he could not takeme with him; and then proposed to establish me in some such undertakingas my late employer's. When he said _that, _ I knew all was over; thatnothing I could do or say would avail; that I had been but a toy; thathe could not conceive what my nature was, nor the agony of shame, thetorture of rejected love, he was inflicting. I contrived to keep silentand composed. I knew I had no right to complain: I had risked all andlost. I managed to say we might arrange things later, and he praised mefor being a sensible, capital girl. I had seen this coming, or I don'tsuppose I could have so controlled myself. But I could not accept histerms. I had a little money and some jewels; I thought I might takethese. So I wrote a few lines, saying that I needed nothing, that heshould hear of me no more, and I went away out into the dark. If I couldonly have died then! I was too great a coward to put an end to my life. Why do I try to speak of what cannot be put into words? Despair is agrim thing, and all life had turned to dust and ashes for me. I couldnot even love him, though I pined for the creature I _had_ loved, whoonce understood me, but from whose heart and mind I had vanished whentime dulled his first impression, and to whom I became even as otherwomen were. But as I could not die, I was obliged to work, and there wasbut one way. I dreaded to be found starving and unable to give anaccount of myself, so I applied to one of those large general shopswhere they neither give nor expect references. There I staid for somemonths, so silent, so steeled against everything, that no one cared tospeak to me. I dare not even think of that time. I do not understand howI managed to do anything. At last I grew dazed, made blunders, and wasdismissed. I wandered here. I failed to find employment, and felt Icould do no more. Still death would _not_ come, I think my mind wasgiving way when _you_ came. Now am I worth helping, now that you knowall?"

"Yes. I will do my best for you. Suffering such as yours must beexpiation enough, " cried Katherine, her eyes still wet. "Put the pastbehind you, and hope for the better days which _will_ come if you strivefor them. But, oh! tell me, did _he_ never try to find you?"

"Yes. I saw advertisements in the paper which were meant for me; butafter a while they ceased, and no doubt I was forgotten. I reaped what Ihad sown. Few men, I imagine, can understand that there are hearts astrue, as strong, as tenacious, among women such as I am as among theirreproachable, the really good. I have no real right to complain; onlyit is _so_ hard to live on without hope or--" She stopped abruptly. 

"Hope will come, " said Katherine, gently; "and time will restore yourself-respect. I should be so glad to see you build up a new and betterlife on the ruins of the past! I am sure there is independence andrepose before you, if you will but fold down this terrible page of yourlife and never open it again. "

"And can you endure to touch me--to be to me as you have been?" askedRachel, her voice broken and trembling. 

Katherine's answer was to stretch out her hand and take that of her_protegee_, which she held tenderly. "Let us never speak of this again, "she said. "Bury your dead out of sight. All you have told me is sacred;none shall ever know anything from me. Let us begin anew. I am certainyou are good and true; and how can one who has never known temptationjudge you?"

Rachel bent her head to kiss the fair firm hand which held hers; thenshe wept silently, quietly, and said, softly, in an altered voice, "Iwill do _whatever_ you bid me; and while you are so wonderfully good tome I will not despair. "

There was an expressive silence of a few moments. Then Katherine beganto draw on her gloves, and trying to steady her voice and speak in herordinary tone, said:

"Mr. Payne is going to make you known to a lady who may be of great useto you in obtaining customers. I have not met her myself, but should youreceive a note from Mrs. Needham, pray go to her at once. There is noreason why you should not make a great business yet. I should be quiteproud of it. Now I must leave you. Promise me to resist unhappythoughts. Try to regain strength, both mental and physical. Should yousee Mrs. Needham before I come again, pray ask quite two-thirds more formaking a dress than I paid, for both your work and your fit areexcellent. "

With these practical words Katherine rose to depart. Rachel followed herto the door, and timidly took her hand. "Do you understand, " she said, "all you have done for me? You have given me back my human heart, instead of the iron vise that was pressing my soul to death. I will liveto be worthy of you, of your infinite pity. "

Katherine had hardly recovered composure when she reached home. The sadand shameful story to which she had listened had not arrested the flowof her sympathy to Rachel. There was something striking in the strengththat enabled her to tell such a tale with stern justice toward herself, without any whining self-exculpation. What a long agony she must haveendured! Katherine's tears were ready to flow afresh at the picture herwarm imagination conjured up. Weak and guilty as Rachel was to yield tosuch a temptation, what was her wrong-doing to that of the man who, knowing what would be the end thereof, tempted her?

Castleford was an ordinary comfortable country house, standing in notvery extensive grounds. The scenery immediately around it was flat anduninteresting, but a few miles to the south it became undulating, andbroken with pretty wooded hollows, but north of it was a rich leveldistrict, and as a hunting country second only to Leicestershire. 

Colonel Ormonde was a keen sportsman, and when he had reached hispresent grade had gladly taken up his abode in the old place, which hadbeen let at a high rent during his term of military service. Castlefordwas an old place, though the house was comparatively new. It had beenbought by Ormonde's grandfather, a rich manufacturer, who had built thehouse and made many improvements, and his representative of the thirdgeneration was considered quite one of the country gentry. 

Colonel Ormonde was fairly popular. He was not obtrusively hard aboutmoney matters, but he never neglected his own interests. Then heappreciated a good glass of wine, and above all he rode straight. Mrs. Ormonde was adored by the men and liked by the women of Clayshiresociety, Colonel Ormonde being considered a lucky man to have picked upa charming woman whose children were provided for. 

That fortunate individual was sitting at breakfast _tete-a-tete_ withhis wife one dull foggy morning about a month after Katherine Liddellhad returned to England. "Another cup, please, " he said, handing his in. Mrs. Ormonde was deep in her letters. "What an infernal nuisance it is!"he continued, looking out of the window nearest him. "The off days arealways soft and the 'meet' days hard and frosty. The scent would bebreast-high to-day. " Mrs. Ormonde made no reply. "Your correspondenceseems uncommonly interesting!" he exclaimed, surprised at her silence. 

"It is indeed, " she cried, looking up with a joyful and exultantexpression of countenance. "Katherine writes that she has signed a deedsettling twenty thousand on Cis and Charlie, the income of which is tobe paid to me until they attain the age of twenty-one, for theirmaintenance, education, and so forth; after which any sum necessary fortheir establishment in life can be raised or taken from their capital, the whole coming into their own hands at the age of twenty-five. Dearme! I hope they will make me a handsome allowance when they aretwenty-five. I really think Katherine might have remembered _me_. " Shehanded the letter to her husband. 

"Well, little woman, you have your innings now, and you must save a potof money, " he returned, in high glee. "What a trump that girl is! and, by Jove! what lucky little beggars your boys are! I can tell you I wasdesperately uneasy for fear she might marry some fellow before shefulfilled her promise to you. Then you might have whistled for anyprovision for your boys; no man would agree to give up such a slice ofhis wife's fortune as this. I know I would not. Women never have anyreal sense of the value of money; they are either stingy or extravagant. I am deuced glad I haven't to pay all _your_ milliner's bills, my dear. I am exceedingly glad Katherine has been so generous, but I'll be hangedif it is the act of a sensible woman. "

"Never mind; there is quite a load off my heart. I think I'll have a newhabit from Woolmerhausen now. "

"Why, I gave you one only two years ago. "

"Two years ago! Why, that is an age. And _you_ need not pay for thisone. "

"I see she says she will pay us a visit if convenient. Of course it isconvenient. I'll run up to town on Sunday, and escort her down next day. The meet is for Tuesday. And mind you make things pleasant andcomfortable for her, Ada. She would be an important addition to ourfamily. A handsome, spirited girl with a good fortune to dispose ofwould be a feather in one's cap, I can tell you. "

"You'll find her awfully fallen off, Ormonde, and her spirits seem quitegone. Still I shall be very glad to have her here. But I do not see whyyou should go fetch her. You know Lady Alice Mordaunt is coming onSaturday. "

"What does that matter? I shall only be away one evening; and betweenyou and me, though Lady Alice is everything that is nice and correct, she is enough to put the liveliest fellow on earth to sleep in half anhour. "

"How strange men are!" exclaimed Mrs. Ormonde, gathering up her lettersand putting them into the pocket of her dainty lace and muslin apron. "Nice, gentle, good women never attract you; you only care for bold----"

"Vivacious, coquettish, attractive little widows, like one I once knew, "said the Colonel, laughing, as he carefully wiped his gray moustache. 

"You are really too absurd!" she exclaimed, sharply. "Do you mean to sayI was ever bold?"

"No; I only mean to say you are an angel, and a deuced lucky angel inevery sense into the bargain! Now, have you any commissions? I am goingto Monckton this morning, and I fancy the dog-cart will be at the door. Where's the boy? I'll take him and nurse down to the gate with me ifthey'll wrap up. The little fellow is so fond of a drive. "

"My dear 'Duke!--such a morning as this! Do you think I would let theprecious child out?"

"Nonsense! Do not make a molly-coddle of him. He is as strong as ahorse. Send for him anyway. I haven't seen him this morning. And be sureyou write a proper letter to Katherine Liddell; you had better let mesee it before it goes. "

"Indeed I shall do nothing of the kind. Do you think I never wrote aletter in my life before I knew you?"

"Oh, go your own way, " retorted the Colonel, beating a retreat to save atotal rout. 

In due course Katherine received an effusive letter of thanks, and apressing invitation to come down to Castleford on the following Monday, and saying that as the hunting season was almost over, they would bevery quiet till after Easter, when Mrs. Ormonde was going to town for acouple of months, ending with an assurance that the dear boys were dyingto see her, and that Colonel Ormonde was going to London for the expresspurpose of escorting her on her journey. 

"It is certainly not necessary, " observed Katherine, with a smile, "considering how accustomed I am to take care of myself. Still it iskindly meant, and I shall accept the offer. " This to Miss Payne, as theyrose from luncheon where Katherine had told her the contents of herletter. 

"Ahem! No doubt they are anxious to show you every attention. Would youlike to take Turner with you? I could spare her very well. " Turner wasthe maid expressly engaged to wait upon Miss Liddell. 

"Oh no, thank you, I want so little waiting on. Lady Alice Mordaunt willbe with Mrs. Ormonde, and will be sure to have a maid, so another mightbe inconvenient. "

"My dear Miss Liddell, if you will excuse me for thrusting advice uponyou, I would say that 'considering' people is the very best way toprevent their showing you consideration. "

"Do you really think so? Well, it is really no great matter. "

"Then you shall not want Turner? Then I shall give her a holiday. Hermother or her brother is ill, and she wants to go home. Servants'relations always seem to be ill. It must cost them a good deal. "

"No doubt. Will you come out with me? I have some shopping to do, andyour advice is always valuable. "

"I shall be very pleased, and I will say I shall miss you when youleave--miss you very much. "

"Thank you, " said Katherine, gently. "I believe you will as you say so. "

Without fully believing Ada's rather exaggerated expressions ofgratitude and affection, Katherine was soothed and pleased by them. Shewas so truthful herself that she was disposed to trust others, and thehearty welcome offered her took off from the sense of loneliness whichhad long oppressed her. Hers was too healthy a nature to encouragemorbid grief. To the last day of her life she remembered her mother withtender, loving-regret; but the consolation of knowing that her laterdays had been so happy, that she had passed away so peacefully, did muchtoward healing the wounds which were still bleeding. 

On the appointed Monday Colonel Ormonde made his appearance in the earlyafternoon, and found Katherine quite ready to start. He was stouter, louder, bluffer, than ever. When Miss Payne was introduced to him hehonored her with an almost imperceptible bow and a very perceptiblestare. Turning at once to Katherine, he exclaimed:

"What! in complete marching order already? I protest I never knew awoman punctual before. But I always saw you were a sensible girl. Nononsense about you. Why, my wife told me you were looking ill. I don'tsee it. At any rate Castleford air will soon bring back your roses. "

"I am feeling and looking better than when I came over, and Miss Paynehas taken such good care of me, " said Katherine, who did not like to seethe lady of the house so completely over-looked. 

"Ah! that's well. You know you are too precious a piece of goods to betampered with. I believe Bertie Payne is a nephew of yours, " he added, addressing Miss Payne--"a young fellow who was in my regiment three orfour years ago, the Twenty-first Dragoon Guards?"

"He is my brother, " returned Miss Payne, stiffly. 

"Ah! Hope he is all right. Have scarcely seen him since he has gone, notto the dogs, but to the saints, which is much the same thing. Ha! ha!ha!"

"Indeed it is not, Colonel Ormonde!" cried Katherine. "If every one wasas good as Mr. Payne, the world would be a different and a betterplace. "

"Hey! Have you constituted yourself his champion? Lucky dog! Come, mydear girl, we must be going. Are you well wrapped up? It is deuced cold, and we have nearly three miles to drive from the station. "

He himself looked liked a mountain in a huge fur-lined coat. 

"Good-by, then, dear Miss Payne. I suppose I shall not see you again fora fortnight or three weeks. "

"By George! we sha'n't let you off with so short a visit as that! Saythree years. Come, march; we haven't too much time. " Throwing a brief"good-morning" at the "old maid" of uncertain position, the Colonelwalked heavily downstairs in the wake of his admired young guest. 

Monckton was scarcely four hours from London, but when the drive toCastleford was accomplished there was not too much time left to dressfor dinner. 

Mrs. Ormonde was awaiting Katherine in the hall, which was bright withlamps and fire-light; behind her were her two boys. 

When Katherine had been duly welcomed. Mrs. Ormonde stood aside, and thechildren hesitated a moment. Cecil was so much grown, Katherine hardlyknew him. He came forward with his natural assurance, and said, confidently: "How d'ye do, auntie? You have been a long time coming. "

Charlie was more like what he had been, and less grown. He hesitated amoment, then darted to Katherine, and throwing his arms round her neck, clung to her lovingly. She was infinitely touched and delighted. Howvividly the past came back to her!--the little dusty house at Bayswater, the homely establishment kept afloat by her dear mother's industry, thesmall study, and the dear weary face associated with it. How ardentlyshe held the child to her heart! How thankfully she recognized that herewas something to cherish and to live for!

"They may come with me to my room?" she said to her hostess. 

"Oh, certainly!--only if you begin that sort of thing you will never beable to get rid of them. "

"I will risk it, " said Katherine, as she followed Mrs. Ormonde upstairsto a very comfortable room, where a cheerful fire blazed on the hearth. 

"I am afraid you find it rather small, but I was obliged to give thebest bedroom to Lady Alice--_noblesse oblige_, you know. I am sure youwill like her, she is so gentle; I think her father was very glad to lether come, as she can see more of her _fiance_. They are not to bemarried till the autumn, so--Oh dear! there is the second bell. Cis, runaway and tell Madeline to come and help your auntie to dress; and youtoo, Charlie; you had better go too. "

"He may stay and help me to unpack. "

"Why did you not bring your maid, dear? It is just like you to leave herbehind; but we could have put her up; and you will miss her dreadfully. "

"I do not think either of us has been so accustomed to the attentions ofa maid as not to be able to do without one, " returned Katherine, smiling. 

"You know _I_ always had a maid in India, " said Mrs. Ormonde, with anair of superiority. "Don't be long over your toilet; Ormonde's cardinalvirtue is punctuality. "

In spite of the hindrance of her nephew's help, Katherine managed toreach the drawing-room before Lady Alice or the master of the house. Mrs. Ormonde was talking to an elderly gentleman in clerical attirebeside the fireplace, and at some distance a tall, dignified-looking manwas reading a newspaper. Mrs. Ormonde was most becomingly dressed inblack satin, richly trimmed with lace and jet--a brilliant contrast toKatherine, in thick dull silk and crape, her snowy neck looking all themore softly white for its dark setting: the only relief to her generalblackness was the glinting light on her glossy, wavy, chestnut brownhair. 

"You have been very quick, dear, " said the hostess. "I am going to sendyou in to dinner, " she added, in a low tone, "with Mr. Errington, ourneighbor. He is the head of the great house of Errington in Calcutta, and the _fiance_, of Lady Alice; but Colonel Ormonde must take her in. Mr. Errington!" raising her voice. The gentleman thus summoned laid downhis paper and came forward. "Let me introduce you to my sister, MissLiddell. " Mr. Errington bowed, rather a stately bow, as he gazed withsurprised interest at the large soft eyes suddenly raised to his, thenquickly averted, the swift blush which swept over the speaking faceturned toward him, the indescribable shrinking of the graceful figure, as if this stranger dreaded and would fain avoid him. It was but for amoment; then she was herself again, and the door opening to admit LadyAlice, Errington hastened to greet her with chivalrous respect, andremained beside her chair until Colonel Ormonde entered with the butler, who announced that dinner was ready. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

IN THE TOILS. 

The drawing and dining rooms at Castleford were at opposite sides of alarge square hall, and even in the short transit between them Erringtonfelt instinctively that Miss Liddell shrank from him. The tips merely ofher black-gloved fingers rested on his arm, while she kept as far fromhim as the length of her own permitted. At table her host was on herright, and Lady Alice opposite, next to the rector, who was the onlyinvited guest; Errington was always expected, and had returned from adistant canvassing expedition, for the present member for West Clayshirewas believed to be on the point of retiring on account of ill health, and Mr. Errington of Garston Hall, intended to offer himself forelection to the free and independent. 

He had had a fatiguing day, but scarcely admitted to himself how muchmore restful a solitary dinner would have been, with a cigar and somekeen-edged article or luminous pamphlet in his own comfortable libraryafterward, than making conversation at Colonel Ormonde's table. However, to slight the lady who had promised to be his wife was impossible, so heexerted himself to be agreeable. 

The rector discussed some parish difficulties with his hostess, whileColonel Ormonde, though profoundly occupied with his dinner, managed tothrow an observation from time to time to his young neighbors. 

"Rode round by Brinkworth Heath in two hours and a half, " he was sayingto Lady Alice, when Katherine listened. "That was fair going. I did notthink you would have got Mrs. Ormonde to start without an escort. "

"We had an escort. Lord Francis Carew and Mr. De Burgh came over toluncheon, and they rode with us. "

"Ha, Errington! you see the result of leaving this fair lady's side allunguarded! These fellows come and usurp your duties. "

"Do you think I should wish Lady Alice to forego any amusement because Iam so unlucky as to be prevented from joining her?" returned Errington, in a deep mellow voice. 

Katherine looked across the table to see how Lady Alice took the remark, but she was rearranging some geraniums and a spray of fern in herwaistband, and did not seem to hear. She was a slight colorless girl ofnineteen, with regular features, an unformed though rather gracefulfigure, and a distinguished air. 

Errington caught the expression of his neighbor's face as she glanced athis _fiancee_, a sympathetic smile parting her lips. It was rarely thata countenance had struck him so much, which was probably due to his oddbut strong impression that his new acquaintance, was both startled anddispleased at being introduced to him--an impression very strange toErrington, as he was generally welcomed by all sorts and conditions ofmen, and especially of women. 

The silence of Lady Alice did not seem to disturb her lover; he turnedto Katherine and asked, "Were you of the riding party to-day!"

"No, " she replied, meeting his eyes fully for an instant, and thenaverting her own, while the color came and went on her cheek; "I onlyarrived in time for dinner. "

"Have I ever met this young lady before?" thought Errington, muchpuzzled. "Have I ever unconsciously offended or annoyed her? I don'tthink so; yet her face is not quite strange to me. " And he appliedhimself to his dinner. 

"I fancy you have had rather a dull time of it in town?" said ColonelOrmonde, leaning back, while the servants removed the dishes. 

"No, I was not dull, " replied Katherine, glad to turn to him. "I wasvery comfortable, and of course not in a mood to see many strangers orto go anywhere. Then I was interested in Mr. Payne's undertakings; theyare quite as amusing as amusements. "

"Bertie Payne! to be sure; the nephew or brother of your doughtychaperon. He is always up to some benevolent games. Queer fellow. "

"He is very, _very_ good, " said Katherine, warmly, "and he _does_ somuch good; only the amount of evil is overpowering. "

"Yes, " said Errington; "I am afraid such efforts as Payne's are merescratching of the surface, and will never touch the root of the evil. "

"I suspect he is a prey to impostors of every description, " said ColonelOrmonde, with a fat laugh. "He is always worrying for subscriptions andGod knows what. But I turn a deaf ear to him. "

"I cannot say I do always, " remarked Errington. "While we devise schemesof more scientific amelioration, hundreds die of sharp starvation ormisery long drawn out. Payne is a good fellow, and enthusiasts havetheir uses. "

"You are so liberal yourself, Mr. Errington, " cried Mrs. Ormonde, "Idare say you are often imposed upon in spite of your wisdom. "

"My wisdom!" repeated Errington, laughing. "What an original idea, Mrs. Ormonde! Did you ever know I was accused of wisdom?" he added, addressing Lady Alice. 

"Papa says you are very sensible, " she returned, seriously. 

"Of course, " cried Mrs. Ormonde. "Why, he has written a pamphlet on 'OurColonies, ' and something wonderful about the state of Europe--didn't he, Mr. Heywood?"

"Yes, " returned the rector. "I suspect our future member will be acabinet minister before the world is many years older. "

Lady Alice looked up with more of pleasure and animation than she hadyet shown. Errington bent his head. 

"Many thanks for your prophecy;" and he immediately turned theconversation to the ever-genial topics of hunting and horses. Then Mrs. Ormonde gave the signal of retreat to the drawing-room. 

Here Katherine looked in vain for her nephews. 

"I suppose the boys have gone to bed, Ada?"

"To bed! oh yes, of course. Why, it is more than half past eight; itwould never do to keep them up so late. Would you like to see baby boyasleep? he looks quite beautiful. "

"Yes, I should, very much, " returned Katherine, anxious to gratify themother. 

"Come, then, " cried Mrs. Ormonde, starting up with alacrity. As theinvitation was general, Lady Alice said, in her gentle way. 

"Thank you; I saw the baby yesterday. "

"She has really very little feeling, " observed Mrs. Ormonde, as she wentupstairs with her sister-in-law. "She never notices baby. "

"I am afraid I should not notice children much if they did not belong tome. "

"My dear Katherine, you are quite different. Of course Lady Alice issweet and elegant, but not clever. Indeed, I cannot see the use ofcleverness to women. There is a fine aristocratic air about her. Afterall, there is nothing like high birth. I assure you it is a highcompliment her being allowed to stay here. Her aunt, Lady Mary Vincent, is a very fine lady indeed, and chaperons Lady Alice. But her father, Lord Melford, is a curious, reckless sort of man, always wanderingabout--yachting and that kind of thing; he is rather in difficultiestoo. They are glad enough to send her down here to see something ofErrington. You know Errington is a very good match; he has bought agreat deal of the Melford property, and when old Errington dies he willbe immensely rich. The poor old man is in miserable health; he has notbeen down here all the winter. I believe the wedding is to take place inJune; we will be invited, of course; you see Colonel Ormonde is sohighly connected that I am in a very different position from what I wasaccustomed to. And you, dear, you _must_ marry some person of rank;there is nothing like it. "

"Yes, " said Katherine, with a sigh, "everything is changed. "

"Fortunately!" cried the exultant Mrs. Ormonde, opening the door of aluxuriously appointed nursery. 

"Here, nurse, I have brought Miss Liddell to see Master Ormonde. "

A middle-aged woman, well dressed, and of authoritative aspect, rosefrom where she sat at needle-work, and came forward. 

"I have only just got him to sleep, ma'am, " she said, almost in awhisper, "and if he is awoke now, I'll not get him off again beforemidnight. "

"We'll be very careful, nurse. Is he not a fine little fellow, Katherine?" and she softly turned back the bedclothes from the sturdy, chubby child, who had a somewhat bull dog style of countenance and abeautifully fair skin. 

"How ridiculously like Colonel Ormonde he is!" whispered Katherine. "Ido not see any trace of you. "

"No; he is quite an Ormonde. He is twice as big as either Cis or Charliewas at his age. "

After a few civil comments Katherine suggested their visiting the otherchildren. 

"Perhaps it would be wiser not to go, " said the mother; "they will notbe so sound asleep as baby, and----"

"You must indulge me this once, Ada. I long to look at them. "

"Oh! of course, dear; ring for Eliza, nurse; she will show Miss Liddellthe way. I must go back; it would never do to leave Lady Alice so longalone. "

"Do not apologize, " said Katherine, with a curious jealous pang, as shenoted Mrs. Ormonde's indifference to the children of her first poorlove-match. 

A demure, flat-faced girl answered the bell, and led Katherine downpassages and up a crooked stair to another part of the house. 

Here she was shown into a room sparsely supplied with old furniture. There was a good fire, and a shaded lamp stood on a large table, where agirl sat writing. 

"Here is a lady to see the young gentlemen, " said the nurse-maid. Theyoung scribe started up, looking confused. 

"If it would not disturb them, " said Katherine, gently, "I should liketo see my nephews in their sleep. "

"Oh, Miss Liddell!" exclaimed the governess, a younger, commoner-lookingperson than Katherine had chosen before she left England. "This is theirbedroom, " and she led Katherine through a door opposite the fireplaceinto an inner room. There in their little beds lay the boys who were allof kith or kin left to Katherine Liddell. 

How lovingly she bent over and gazed at them!

Cecil had grown much. He looked sunburnt and healthy. One arm was thrownup behind his head, the other stretched straight and stiff beside him, ending in a closely clinched little brown fist. His lips, slightlyapart, emitted the softly drawn regular breath of profound slumber, andthe smile which some pleasant thought had conjured up before he closedhis eyes still lingered round his mouth. Katherine longed to kiss him, but feared to break his profound and restful slumbers. She passed toCharlie. His attitude was quite different. He had thrown the clothesfrom his chest, and his pinky white throat was bare; one little hand layopen on the page of a picture-book at which he had been looking whensleep overtook him; the other was under his soft round cheek; his sweetand still baby face was grave if not sad. He looked like a little angelwho had brought a message to earth, and was grieved and wearied by thesin and sorrow here below. Katherine's heart swelled with tenderest loveas she gazed upon him, and unconsciously she bent closer till her lipstouched his brow. Then a little hand stole into hers, and, withoutmoving, as though he had expected her, he opened his eyes and whispered, "Will you come and kiss me every night, as grannie did?"

"I will, my darling, every night. "

"Will grannie _never_ come and kiss me again?"

"Never, Charlie! She will never come to either of us in this life. " Abig tear fell on the boy's forehead. 

"Don't cry, auntie; she loves us all the same. " And he kissed the faircheek which now lay against his own as his aunt knelt beside his bed. 

"Go to sleep, dear love; to-morrow you shall take me to see your gardenand the pony. "

"You will be sure to come?"

"Yes, quite sure. "

In a few minutes the clasp of the warm little hand relaxed, andKatherine gently disengaged herself. 

"The boys are no longer first in their mother's heart, " thoughtKatherine, as she returned to the drawing-room. "Were they ever first?They are--they might become all the world to me. They might fill my lifeand give it a fresh aspect. The new ties at which Mr. Newton hinted cannever exist for me. Could I accept an honorable man and live with aperpetual secret between us? Could I ever confess? No. My most hopefulscheme is to be a mother to these children. And oh! I do want to behappy, to feel the joy in life that used to lift up my spirit in the olddays when we were struggling with poverty! I _will_ throw off this loadof self-contempt. I have not really injured any one. "

In the drawing-room Colonel Ormonde was seated beside Lady Alice, makingconversation to the best of his ability. She looked serenely content, and held a piece of crochet, the kind of fancy-work which occupied theyoung ladies in the "sixties. " The rector and Mr. Errington were in deepconversation on the hearth-rug, and Mrs. Ormonde was reading the paper. 

"So you have been visiting the nursery?" said the Colonel, rising andoffering Katherine a chair. "Your first introduction to our young man, Isuppose?"

"Yes. What a great boy he is!--the picture of health!"

"Ay, he is a Trojan, " complacently. "The other little fellows arelooking well, eh?"

"Very well indeed. Cis is wonderfully grown; but Charlie is much what hewas. "

"He'll overtake his brother, though, before long, " said Colonel Ormonde, encouragingly, as he rang and ordered the card-table to be set. 

"You play whist, I suppose? We want a fourth. "

"I am quite ignorant of that fascinating game, " returned Katherine, "andvery sorry to be so useless. "

"It _is_ lamentable ignorance! Lady Alice, will you take compassion onus? No?--then we _must_ have Errington. "

Errington did not seem at all reluctant, and the two young ladies wereleft to entertain each other. 

Katherine, who had gone to the other end of the room to look at somewater-color drawings, came back and sat down beside her. Lady Alicelooked amiable, but did not speak, and Katherine felt greatly at a losswhat to say. 

"What very fine work!" she said at length, watching the small, weak-looking hands so steadily employed. 

"Yes, it is a very difficult pattern. My aunt, Lady Mary, never couldmanage it, and she does a great deal of crochet, and is very clever. "

"It seems most complicated. I am sure I could never do it. "

"Do you crochet much?"

"Not at all. "

"Then, " with some appearance of interest, "what _do_ you do?"

"Oh! various things; but I am afraid I am not industrious. I wouldrather mend my clothes than do fancy work. "

"Mend your clothes!" repeated Lady Alice, in unfeigned amazement. 

"Yes. I assure you there is great pleasure in a symmetrical patch. "

"But does not your maid do that?"

"Now that I have one, she does. However, you must show me how tocrochet, if you will be so kind; my only approach to fancy-work isknitting. I can knit stockings. Isn't that an achievement?"

"But is it not tiresome?"

"Oh! I can knit like the Germans, and talk or read. "

"Is it possible?" A long pause. 

"Mrs. Ormonde says you are very learned and studious, " said Lady Alice, languidly. 

"How cruel of her to malign me!" returned Katherine, laughing. "LearnedI certainly am not; but I am fond of indiscriminate reading, though notstudious. "

"I like a nice novel, with dreadful people in it, like Miss St. Maur's. Have you read any of hers?"

"I don't think so. I do not know the name. "

"The St. Maurs are Devonshire people--a very old country family, Ibelieve. Still, when she writes about the season in London, I don'tthink it is very like. " Another pause. 

"You have been in Italy, I think, Lady Alice?" recommenced Katherine. 

"Oh yes, often. Papa is always cruising about, you know, and we stop atplaces. But I have never been in Rome. "

"Yachting must be delightful. "

"I do not like it; I am always ill. Aunt Mary took me to Florence for awinter. "

"Then you enjoyed that, I dare say, " said Katherine. 

"I got tired of it. I do not care for living abroad; there is nothing todo but to go to picture-galleries and theatres. "

"Well, that is a good deal, " returned Katherine, smiling. "Where do youlike to live, Lady Alice?"

"Oh, in the country. I am almost sorry Mr. Errington has a house intown. I am so fond of a garden, and riding on quiet roads! I am afraidto ride in London. The country is so peaceful! no one is in a hurry. "

"What a happy, tranquil life she will lead under the ægis of such a manas Mr. Errington!" thought Katherine. 

"Do you play or sing?" asked Lady Alice, for once taking the initiative. 

"Yes, in a very amateur fashion. "

"Then, " with more animation, "perhaps you would play my accompanimentsfor me; I always like to stand when I sing. Mrs. Ormonde says sheforgets her music. Is it not odd?"

"Well, people in India do as little as possible. I shall be very pleasedto play for you. Shall we practice to-morrow?"

"Oh yes; immediately after breakfast. There is really nothing to dohere. "

"Immediately after breakfast I am going out with the boys--Mrs. Ormonde's boys. Have you seen them? But we shall have plenty of timebefore luncheon. "

"Are you fond of children?" slowly, while her busy needle paused and sheundid a stitch or two. 

"I am fond of these children; I do not know much about any other. "

"Beverley's children (my eldest brother's) are very troublesome; theyannoy me very much. " Silence while she took up her stitches again. "Theworst of this pattern is that if you talk you are sure to go wrong. "

"Then I will find a book and not disturb you, " said Katherine, good-humoredly. She felt kindly and indulgent toward this gentlehelpless creature, who seemed so many years younger than herself, thoughbarely two, in fact. That she was Errington's _fiancee_ gave her acurious interest in Katherine's eyes. She would willingly have done himall possible good; she was strangely attracted to the man she hadcheated. There was a simple natural dignity about him that pleased herimagination, yet she almost dreaded to speak to him, lest the very tonesof her voice, the encounter of their eyes, should betray her. 

At last Errington, looking at his watch, declared that as the rubber wasover, he must say good-night. 

"What, are you not staying here to-night?" said Colonel Ormonde. 

"No; I have a good deal of letter-writing to get through to-morrow, sodid not accept Mrs. Ormonde's kind invitation. "

"You'll have a deuced cold drive. Come over on Thursday, will you? OldWray, the banker, is to dine here, and one or two Monckton worthies. Stay till Tuesday or Wednesday. The next meets are Friday and Monday, onthis side of the county. There will not be many more this season. "

"Thank you; I shall be very happy. " He crossed to where Lady Alice stillsat placidly at work, and made his adieux in a low tone, holding herhand for a moment longer than mere acquaintanceship warranted, andhaving exchanged good-nights, left the room, followed by his host. 

There was a good fire in Katherine's bedroom, and having declined theassistance of Mrs. Ormonde's maid, she put on her dressing-gown and satdown beside it to think. She was still quivering with the nervousexcitement she had striven so hard and so successfully to conceal. 

When Mrs. Ormonde had given her rapid explanation of who Errington was, and without a pause presented him, Katherine felt as if she must drop athis feet. Indeed, she would have been thankful if a mercifulinsensibility had made her impervious to his questioning eyes. _She_well knew who he was. 

He was the real owner of the property she now possessed. The will shehad suppressed bequeathed all John Liddell's real and personal propertyto Miles Errington, only son of his old friend Arthur Errington, ofCalton Buildings, London, E. C. , and Calcutta. She, the robber, stood inthe presence of the robbed. Did he know by intuition that she wasguilty? How grave and questioning his eyes were! Why did he look at herlike that? How he would despise her and forbid his affianced wife to beoutraged by her presence if he knew!

He looked like a high-minded gentleman. If he seemed almost sternlygrave, his smile was kind and frank, and she had made herself unworthyto associate with such men as he. 

But he was rich. He did not need the money she wanted so sorely. What ofthat? Did his abundance alter the everlasting conditions of right andwrong? Perhaps if she had not attempted to play Providence for the sakeof her family, and let things follow their natural course, Mr. Erringtonmight have spared a few crumbs from his rich table--a reasonabledole--to patch up the ragged edges of their frayed fortunes. Then shewould not be oppressed with the sense of shame, this weight of richesshe shrank from using. She had murdered her own happiness; she hadkilled her own youth. Never again could she know the joyousness oflight-hearted girlhood, while nothing the world might give her couldatone for the terrible trespass which had broken the harmony of hermoral nature by the perpetual sense of unatoned wrong-doing. How shewished she had never come to Castleford! True, her seeing Mr. Erringtondid not make her guilt a shade darker, but oh, how much more keenly shefelt it under his eyes! And now she could not rush away. She must avoidall eccentricities lest they might possibly arouse suspicion. Suspicion?What was there to suspect? No one would dream of suspicion. Then thatwill! She would try and nerve herself to destroy it, though it seemedsacrilege to do so. Whatever she did, however, she must think of Cis andCharlie. Having committed such an act, her only course was to bear theconsequences, and do her duty by the innocent children, whose fate wouldbe cruel enough should she indulge in any weak repentance or seek reliefin confession. She had burdened herself with a disgraceful secret, andshe must bear it her life long. It gave her infinite pain to face MilesErrington, yet while at one moment she longed to fly from him, the nextshe felt an extraordinary desire to hear him speak, to learn theprevailing tone of his mind, to know his opinions. There was anearnestness in his look and manner that appealed to her sympathies. Hewas a just, upright gentleman. What would he think of the dastardly deedby which she had robbed him?

"I must not think of it. I must try and forget I ever did it, and be asgood and true as I can in all else. And the will! I must destroy it. Iam sure my poor old uncle meant to do away with it. Perhaps if it wereclean gone I might feel more at rest. How strange it is that instead ofgrowing accustomed to the contemplation of my own dishonesty I becomemore keenly alive to the shame of my act as time rolls on! Perhaps if Iam brave and resolute I may conquer the scorpion stings ofself-reproach. How dear those two sweet peaceful years have cost me!Would I undo it all to save myself these pangs? No. Then I suppose tobear is to conquer one's fate. "

CHAPTER XV. 

CROSS PURPOSES. 

The first ten days at Castleford would have been dull indeed toKatherine but for the society of Cis and Charlie in the mornings, andthe interest she took in watching Errington (who was of course afrequent visitor) in the evenings. 

Though she avoided conversing with him as much as possible, he was aconstant study to her. He was different from all the men she hadpreviously met. She often wondered if anything could disturb him orhurry him. Had he ever climbed trees and torn his clothes, or thrashedan adversary? Had he any weaknesses, or vivid joys, or passionatelongings? Yet he did not seem a prig. His manner, though dignified, waseasy and natural; his eyes, though steady and penetrating, were kindly;his bearing had the repose of strength. It was too awful to contemplatewhat his estimate of herself would be if he knew; but then he must_never_ know!

As it was, he seemed inclined to be friendly and communicative, pleasedwhen he met her strolling in the garden with Lady Alice, and gratifiedto find that she could accompany his _fiancee's_ songs. Indeed he saidhe had never heard Lady Alice sing so well as when Miss Liddell playedfor her. 

Apart from the boys and Errington, Katherine found time hang veryheavily on her hands. The aimless lingering over useless fancy-work orsecond-rate novels, the discussion of such gossip as theircorrespondence supplied, by means of which Mrs. Ormonde and Lady Alicegot through the day, were infinitely wearisome to her. 

Miles Errington was one of those happy individuals said to be born witha silver spoon in his mouth. The only son of a wealthy father, who, though enriched by trade, had come of an old Border race, he had had thebest education money could procure. More fortunate still in theendowments of nature, he was well formed, strong, active, and blessedwith perfect health; while mentally he was intelligent and reflective, thoughtful rather than brilliant, and by temperament profoundly calm. Hehad never got into scrapes or committed extravagance. He was the despairof managing mammas and fascinating young married women; yet he was notunpopular with either sex. Men respected his strong, steady character, his high standard, his sound judgment in matters affecting the stableand the race-course; women were attracted by his obligingness andgenerosity. Still he was the sort of man with whom few became intimate, and none dared take a liberty. Preserved by his fortunate surroundingsand strong tranquil nature from difficulties or temptations, he couldhardly understand the passionate outbreaks of weaker and more fiery men. 

His greatest physical pleasure was an exciting run with the hounds; hisdeepest interest centred in politics; though never indulging insentiment, he was an earnest patriot. Whether he could be moved by morepersonal feelings remained to be proved. At present the sources oftenderer affection, if they existed, lay so deep below the strata ofreason and common-sense that only some artesian process could pierce tothe imprisoned spring's and set the "water of life" free, perhaps tobound, geyser-like, into the outer air. 

Having travelled by sea and land, and looked into the social andpolitical condition of many countries, having mixed much with men andwomen at home and abroad, Errington thought it time to take his place inthe great commonwealth--to marry, and to try for a seat in the House ofCommons. He therefore selected Lady Alice Mordaunt. She was ratherpretty, graceful, gentle, and quite at his service. He really like herin a sort of fatherly way; he looked forward with quiet pleasure tomaking her very happy, and did not doubt she would in his hands matureinto a sufficient companion, for though Errington was not naturally aselfish man, his life and training disposed him to look on thoseconnected with him as on the whole created for him. 

He had been absent for two or three days, having gone up to town tovisit his father, who had been somewhat seriously unwell, and as he rodetoward Castleford he gave more thought than usual to his young_fiancee_. In truth, a visit to Colonel Ormonde was a great bore to him. He had nothing in common with the Colonel, whose pig-headed conservatismjarred on Errington's broader views, while his stories and reminiscenceswere exceedingly uninteresting, and sometimes worse. Mrs. Ormonde'ssmall coquetries, her airs and graces, were equally unattractive to him. Still it was well to have Lady Alice at Castleford, within easy reach, while there was so much to occupy his time and attention in the country. As soon as he was sure of his election he would hasten his marriage, andperhaps get the honey-moon over in time to take his seat while there wasstill a month or two of the session unexpired. 

From Lady Alice it was an easy transition of thought to the new guest atCastleford. Where had he seen her face? and with what was he associatedin her mind? Nothing agreeable; of that he was quite sure. The vividblush and indescribable shrinking he had noticed more than once (andErrington, like most quiet men, was a close observer) seemedunaccountable. Miss Liddell was far from shy; she was well-bred andevidently accustomed to society; her avoidance had therefore made themore impression. His experience of life had hitherto been exceedinglyunemotional, and Katherine's unexpected betrayal of feeling puzzled himnot a little. 

At this point in his reflections he had reached that part of the roadwhere it dipped into a hollow, on one side of which the Melford woodsbegan. A steep bank rose on the right, thickly studded with beech andoak trees, still leafless, but the scanty, yellowish grass which grewbeneath them was tufted with primroses and violets. 

As Errington came round a bend in the little valley the sound of shrill, childish laughter came pleasantly to his ear, and the next minutebrought him in sight of a lady in mourning whom he recognizedimmediately, and two little boys, who were high up the back, busilyengaged filling a basket with sweet spring blossoms. 

Errington paused, dismounted, and raising his hat, approached her. 

"I did not expect so meet _you_ so far afield, " he said. "You are notafraid of a long walk. "

"My nephews have led me on from flower to flower, " she returned, againcoloring brightly, but not shrinking from his eyes. "Now I think it istime to go home. "

"It is not late, " he returned. "How is every one at Castleford?"

"Quite well. Lady Alice has lost her cold, and regained her voice--shewas singing this morning, " said Katherine, smiling as if she knew thereal drift of his question. 

"I am glad to hear it, " he returned, soberly. 

Errington and Lady Alice did not write to each other every day. 

"Auntie, " cried Cis, "the basket is quite full. If you open yoursunshade and hold it upside-down, I can fill that too. "

"No dear; you have quite enough. We must go back now. "

"Oh, not yet, please?" The little fellow came tumbling down the bank, followed by Charlie, who immediately caught his aunt's hand andrepeated, "Not yet, auntie!"

"These are Mrs. Ormonde's boys, I suppose?" said Errington. 

"Yes; have you never seen them before?"

"Never. And have you not had enough climbing?" he added, good-humoredly, to Charlie. 

"No, not half enough!" cried Cis. "There's _such_ a bunch of violetsjust under that biggest beech-tree, nearly up at the top! Do let megather them--just those; do--do--do!"

"Very well; do not go too fast, or you will break your neck. "

Both boys started off, leaving their basket at Katherine's feet. 

"I remember now, " said Errington, looking at her, "where I saw I saw youbefore. Is was two--nearly three--years ago, at Hyde Park corner, whenthat elder boy had a narrow escape from being run over. "

"Were _you_ there?" she exclaimed, so evidently surprised that Erringtonsaw the impulse was genuine. "I recollect Mr. Payne and Colonel Ormonde;but I did not see _you_. "

"Then where _have_ you met me?" was at his lips, but he did not utterthe words. 

"Well, Payne was of real service; I did nothing. The little fellow had aclose shave. "

"He had indeed, " said Katherine, thoughtfully, with downcast eyes; then, suddenly raising them to his, she said, as if to herself, "And you werethere too! How strange it all is!"

"I see nothing so strange in it, Miss Liddell, " smiling good-humoredly. "Have you any superstition on the subject?"

"No; I am not superstitious; yet it was curious--I mean, to meet byaccident on that day just before--" She stopped. "And now I am connectedwith Colonel Ormonde, living with Mr. Payne's sister and--and talkinghere with--_you_. "

"These coincidences occur perpetually when people move in the same set, "returned Errington, feeling absurdly curious, and yet not knowing how toget at the train of recollection or association which underlay herwords--words evidently unstudied and impulsive. 

"I suppose so. And, you know--Mr. Payne, " Katherine continued, quickly--"how good he is! He lives completely for others. "

"Yes, I believe him to be thoroughly, honestly good. How hard he toils, and with what a pitiful result!"

"I wish he would go. Why does he stand there making conversation?"thought Katherine, while she said aloud: "I don't see that. If every onehelped two or three poor creatures whom they knew, we should not haveall this poverty and suffering which are distracting to think about. "

"I doubt it; it would be more likely to pauperize the whole nation. "

Here Charlie and Cis, with earth-stained knees and hands--the latterfull of violets--reluctantly descended. Adding these to the basketalready overflowing, they had a short wrangle as to who should carry it, and then Katherine turned her steps homeward. Errington passed thebridle over his arm, and to her great annoyance, walked beside her. 

"Are you, then, disposed to give yourself to faith and to good works?"

"I do not know. I should like to help those who want, but I fear I amtoo fond of pleasure to sacrifice myself--at least I was and I supposethe love will return. Of course it is easy to give money; it is hard togive one's self. "

"You seem very philosophic for so young a lady. "

"I am not young, " said Katherine, sadly; "I am years older than LadyAlice. "

"How many--one or two?" asked Errington, in his kind, fatherly, somewhatsuperior tone, which rather irritated her. 

"The years I mean are not to be measured by the ordinary standard; even_you_ must know that some years last longer--no, that is not theexpression--press heavier than others. "

"Even I? Do you think I am specially matter-of-fact?"

"I have no right to think you anything, for I do not know you; but yougive me that impression. "

"I dare say I am; nor do I see why I should object to be so considered. "

Here Cecil, who got tired of a conversation from which he could gathernothing, put in his oar: "Are you Mr. Errington?"

"I am. How do you know my name?"

"I saw you going out with the Colonel to the meet--oh, a long while ago!And Miss Richards and nurse were talking about you. "

"They said you had a real St. Bernard dog--one that gets the people outof the snow, " cried Charlie. "Will you let him come here? I want to seehim. "

"_You_ had better come and pay him a visit. "

"Oh yes, thank you!" exclaimed Cis. "Auntie will take us, perhaps. Auntie will take us to the sea-side, and then we shall bathe, and go inboats, and learn to row. "

"Cis, run with me to that big tree at the foot of the hill. Auntie willcarry the basket, " cried Charlie, and the next moment they were off. 

"Fine little fellows, " said Errington. "I like children. "

"I am going to ask Mrs. Ormonde to lend them to me for a few months, forthey are all I have of kith or kin. "

"They are not at all like you, " returned Errington, letting his quiet, but to her most embarrassing, eyes rest upon her face. 

"Yet they are my only brother's children. " Here Katherine paused with asense of relief; they had reached a stile where a footway led acrosssome fields and a piece of common overgrown with bracken and gorse. Itwas the short-cut to Castleford, by which Cecil had led her to theMelford Woods. 

"Oh, do come round by the road, auntie, " he exclaimed; "perhaps Mr. Errington will let me ride his horse. "

"I do not know if _he_ will, Cis, but I certainly will not. I am tiredtoo, dear, and want to get home the shortest way I can, so bid Mr. Errington good-by, and come with me. No, don't shake hands; yours aremuch too dirty. "

"Never mind; when you are a big boy I'll give you a mount. Good by, Master Charlie--_you_ are Charlie, are you not? Till we meet at dinner, Miss Liddell. " He raised his hat, and divining that she wished him tolet her get over the stile unassisted, he mounted his horse and rodeswiftly away. 

"I am sure he would have given me a ride if you had gone by the road, auntie, " said Cecil, reproachfully. 

"I could not have allowed, you, dear; so do not think about it. "Errington meanwhile rode on, unconsciously slackening his pace as hemused. "No, she certainly has never seen me before, yet she knows me. How? She was very glad to get rid of me just now. Why? I am inoffensiveenough. There is something uncommon about her; she gives me the idea ofhaving a history, which is anything but desirable for a young woman. What fine eyes she has! She is something like that Sibyl of Guercino'sin the Capitol. Why does she object to me? It is rather absurd. I mustmake her talk, then I shall find out. "

Here his horse started, and broke the thread of his reflections. By thetime the steed had pranced and curvetted a little, Errington's thoughtshad turned into some of their usual graver channels, and KatherineLiddell was--well, not absolutely forgotten. 

The object of his reflections reached the house rather late for theboys' tea, and expecting to find her hostess and Lady Alice enjoying thesame refreshment, she gave her warm out-door jacket to Cecil, whoimmediately put it on as the best mode of taking it upstairs, and wentinto Mrs. Ormonde's morning-room, where afternoon tea was always served. It was a pleasant room in warm summer weather, as its aspect was east, and the afternoons were cool and shady there; but of a chill evening atthe end of March it was cold and dim, and needed the glow of a good fireto make it attractive. 

Daylight still lingered to the sky, but was fast fading, and the dancinglight of a cheerful fire was a pleasant contrast to the gray shadowswithout. The room was very nondescript; its furniture was of the spideryfashion which ruled when the "first gentleman" held the reins; thin hardsofas and scanty draperies were supplemented by Persian rugs and showycushions, while various specimens of doubtful china crowded themantel-piece and consoles. Mrs. Ormonde was quite innocent of originaltaste, but was a quick, industrious imitator, while of comfortablechairs she was a most competent judge. 

Quite sure of finding Mrs. Ormonde, Lady Alice, and MissBrereton--another visitor--refreshing themselves after their out-doorexercise, and intending to announce the pleasant news of Errington'sreturn, Katherine exclaimed, "Lady Alice!" as she crossed the threshold, then seeing no one, stopped. 

"Lady Alice is not here, " said a strong, harsh voice, and a tall figurein a shooting-coat and gaiters rose from the depths of a largearm-chair, the back of which was toward the door and stood before her. 

Katherine was slightly startled, but guessed it was one of two guestsexpected to arrive that day. She advanced, therefore, and said, "Mrs. Ormonde is unusually late, but I am sure she will soon be here. "

"Meantime tea is quite ready. It has stood twice the regulation fiveminutes; and is there any just cause or impediment why it should not bepoured out?"

"Not that I am aware of, " returned Katherine, taking off her hat andsmoothing back her hair, which showed golden tints in the fitfulfire-light. 

The low tea-table was set before the fire, she drew a chair beside itand removed the cozy from the teapot. 

Recognizing De Burgh from Mrs. Ormonde's description, she felt that hewas even more at home at Castleford than herself, and she also came tothe conclusion that he knew who she was. She had been prepared by Mrs. Ormonde's evident admiration to dislike De Burgh, having made up hermind that he would prove an empty-headed, insolent grandee, whosepretensions imposed upon her sister-in-law's somewhat slenderexperience, and whose life was probably given up to physical enjoyment. He had not, however, the aspect of a mere pleasure-seeker. His dark, strong face and bony frame looked as if he could work as well as play. 

"Do you take sugar?"

"No, thank you; neither sugar nor cream. "

"Neither? That is very self-denying!"

"Not self-denying! Were I foolish enough to do what I did not like, Ishould take the sugar and cream. They do not happen to please mypalate. "

"It is well we do not all like the same things. "

"It is indeed!" He held his cup untasted for a moment, lookingthoughtfully into the fire. "Tea is the best drink you can have indifficult, fatiguing journeys. Even the gold-diggers of Australia knowthat. They drink hard enough when they are on the spree, but when atwork in earnest they stick to the teapot, " he said, turning his eyesfull upon her with a cool, critical gaze, which half amused, halfirritated her. It was curious to sit there talking easily with a totalstranger. Perhaps she ought to have left him to himself, but it was notmuch matter. Looking toward the window to avoid her companion's eyes, she exclaimed:

"It is raining quite fast! I am glad I brought the children home beforethis shower. "

"An avant-courier of April. You were walking with Mrs. Ormonde's boys, then?"

"Yes; I take them out every day. "

"An uncommonly good-looking governess, " thought De Burgh. "You have notbeen here long, I think?" he said. 

"About three weeks. The boys are quite used to me now, and enjoy theirwalks, for I take them outside the grounds, " said Katherine, feelingsure that De Burgh must guess who she was. 

"Indeed! You are a daring innovator. I suppose they were kept on thepremises till you came?"

"They were; and it is always tiresome to be kept within bounds. "

"I quite agree with you. The sentiment is extremely natural, only youngladies rarely confess it. "

"Why?"

"Oh, you ought to know better than I do. You give me the idea of being aplucky woman. "

"You must be quick in gathering ideas, " said Katherine, dryly. 

"Yes; some subjects inspire me, " he returned, handing in his cup. "Another, please. I am a bit of a physiognomist. I think I could give arough sketch of your character. " He stirred the fire to a brighter blazeand added, "It is so deuced dark since that shower came on I can hardlysee you, but I will tell you my ideas, if you care to hear them. "

"Yes, I should, " she returned, laughing. "It will be curious to hear theresult of an instantaneous estimate. Why, five minutes ago you had neverseen me. "

"Five minutes? No; ten at least. Well, then, I should say you are aremarkably plucky girl, though perhaps not impervious to panic. And, letme see, " fixing his keen, fierce eyes on hers, "gifted with no smallpower of enjoyment. With a strong dash of the rebel in you, and--well, Icould tell you more, but I won't. "

Katherine laughed good-humoredly. 

"Have I hit it off?" he asked, after waiting for her to speak. 

"I cannot tell. Do we ever know ourselves?"

"That's true; but few admit their ignorance. I begin to think that youare dangerous, in addition to your other qualities, as you can refrainfrom discussing yourself; that is a bait which draws out most women. "

"And most men, " added Katherine. "We haven't much to reproach each otherwith on that score. "

"No, I must admit that. Self is a fascinating topic. "

"Some more tea?" asked Katherine, demurely. 

"No, thank you. I am not absolutely insatiable. Tell me, " he went on, with a quaint familiarity which was not offensive, "how can a girl withyour nature--mind, I have not told half I guess--how can you stand yourlife here--walking about with those brats, making tea while the othersare out amusing themselves, hammering away at the same round day afterday? You are made for different things. "

"I should not care to live at Castleford all the days of my life, " saidKatherine, a little surprised by his question, and feeling there was amistake somewhere; "but I do not intend to stay long. "

"Oh, indeed! How do you get on with Mrs. Ormonde? She doesn't worry youabout the boys? She is a jolly, pretty little woman; but you are notexactly the sort of young lady I should have fancied would be herchoice. "

"Why not?" asked Katherine, beginning to see his mistake. 

"Because"--began De Burgh, looking full at her, and then paused. "Youare too handsome by half!" were the words on his lips, but he did notutter them; he substituted, "You don't seem quite the thing for Mrs. Ormonde. "

"She finds I suit her admirably, " said Katherine, gravely. 

"I don't quite understand"--De Burgh was beginning, when the door openedto admit Mrs. Ormonde. 

"Ah, Mr. De Burgh, I did not expect you so early; but I am gladKatherine was here to give you your tea. It is not necessary tointroduce you. I was afraid you would have been caught in that shower, Katie. "

"We just escaped it. I hope Lady Alice has found shelter, or she willrenew her cold. "

"You are Miss Liddell, then?" said De Burgh, as he placed a chair forMrs. Ormonde and took her cloak. 

"To be sure. Didn't you guess who she was?"

"Mr. De Burgh guessed a good deal, but he did not guess my identity, "said Katherine, handing her a cup of tea. 

"What! Were you playing at cross questions and crooked answers?"

"Something of that sort, " he returned, and changed the subject by askingif they had heard how Errington's father was. 

"Better, I suppose, for Mr. Errington has returned. He met us when wewere in Melford Woods. "

"I dare say he met Alice and Miss Brereton, then, " said Mrs. Ormonde;"they were riding in that direction. "

"Lady Alice will be taken care of, then, " said Katherine, and taking herhat she went away, seeing that Mrs. Ormonde was quite ready to absorbthe conversation. 

"So that is Katherine Liddell, " said De Burgh, looking after her, regardless of Mrs. Ormonde's declaration that she was going to scoldhim. 

"Yes. Is she not like what you expected?"

"Expected? I did not expect anything; but she isn't a bit like what youdescribed. "

"How so? Did I say too much?"

"Yes, a great deal too much, but the wrong way. "

"What do you mean?"

"Why, you talked as if she was a regular gushing school-girl, ready toswallow any double-barrelled compliment one chose to offer, whereas sheis a finely developed woman, by Jove! with brains too, or I am muchmistaken. Why, my charming little friend, she is older in some ways thanyou are. "

"Oh, nonsense. You need not flatter _me_. "

"It's not flattery, it's--"

The arrival of the riding party with the addition of Errington preventedhim from finishing his sentence. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

HANDLING THE RIBBONS. 

De Burgh was told off to take Katherine in to dinner that day and thenext, and bestowed a good deal of his attention on her during theevening. He rather amused her, for he was a new type to her. The men shehad met during her sojourn on the Continent were chiefly polished Frenchand Italians, whose softness and respectful manner to women were perhapsexaggerated, and a sprinkling of diplomatic and dilettante Englishmen. De Burgh's style was curiously--almost roughly--frank, yet there was anunmistakable air of distinction about him. He seemed not to think itworth while to take trouble about anything, yet he could talk well whenby chance a topic interested him, Katherine would have been very dullhad she not perceived that he was attracted by her. She was by no meansso exalted a character as to be indifferent to his tribute; neverthelessshe was half afraid of the cynical, outspoken, high-born Bohemian, whoseemed to have small respect for people or opinions. She showed littleof this feeling, however, having held her own with spirit in theirvarious arguments, as, it need scarcely be said, they rarely agreed. 

"What is this mysterious piece of work I see constantly in your hands?"asked De Burgh, taking his place beside Katherine when the men came inafter dinner a few days after his arrival. 

"It is a black silk stocking for Cecil. "

"One of the nephews, eh? So you are capable of knitting! It must be adreary occupation. "

"No; it becomes mechanical, and it is better than sitting with foldedhands. "

"I am not sure it is. I have great faith in natures that can takecomplete rest--men who can do nothing, absolutely nothing--and so createa reserve fund of fresh energy for the next hour of need. There is nostrength in fidgety feverishness. "

"There is not much feverishness in knitting, " returned Katherine, beginning a new row. 

"There is very little feverishness about _you_, yet you are not placid. I am extending and verifying my original estimate of your character, yousee. "

"A most interesting occupation, " said Katherine, carelessly. 

"_Yes_, most interesting. I wish I had more frequent opportunities ofstudying it; but one never sees you all day. Where do you hideyourself?"

"I take long rambles with the children, and--" She paused. 

"Does it amuse you to play nurse-maid?"

"Yes, at present. Then my nephews and I were playfellows long ago. "

"I imagine it is a taste that will not last. "

"Perhaps not. "

"Miss Brereton and Lady Alice, with Errington and myself, are going toride over to Melford Abbey to-morrow. You will, I hope, be of theparty?"

"Thank you. I do not ride. "

"It is rather refreshing to meet a young lady who is not horsy, but itis a loss to yourself not to ride. "

"I dare say it is. Yet what one has never known cannot be a loss. I amsorry I was not accustomed to ride in my youth. "

"It is not too late to learn, remote as that period must be, " said DeBurgh, smiling. "You are in the headquarters of horsemen and horsewomenat present. Appoint me your riding-master, and in a couple of months Ishall be proud of my pupil. "

"I am not particularly brave, " she returned, "and the experiment wouldproduce more pain than pleasure. "

"Pain! nothing of the kind. I have a capital lady's horse, steady as arock, splendid pacer, temper of an angel. He is quite at your service. Let me telegraph for him, and begin your lessons the day afterto-morrow. " De Burgh raised himself from his lounging position, andleaned forward to urge his pleading more earnestly. "Let me persuadeyou. You will thank me hereafter. "

"Thank you, " said Katherine, shaking her head. "It is too late. I shallnever learn how to ride, but I should like to know how to drive. "

"There I can be of use to you too. You will want an instructor. Praytake me!"

The last words, spoken a little louder than the rest, caught Mrs. Ormonde's ear as she was crossing the room, and she paused beside hersister-in-law to ask, "Take him for what?--for better or worse, Katherine?"

"Blundering little idiot!" thought De Burgh; while Katherine answered, with remarkable composure. 

"Nothing so formidable; only to be my instructor in the art of driving. "

"Well, and do you accept?"

"Yes; I shall be very pleased to learn. I should like to be able to'conduct' a pair of ponies, as the French would say. "

"Ah yes! and cut a dash in the Park, " said Mrs. Ormonde, taking the seatDe Burgh reluctantly vacated for her. "I don't see why she should not, Mr. De Burgh; do you?"

"Certainly not, provided only Miss Liddell can handle the ribbons. "

"Very well, Katherine: you devote yourself to acquire the art here, andthen join us in a house in town this spring. I was reading theadvertisements in the _Times_ to-day. I always look at the houses tolet, and there is one to let in Chester Square which would suit usexactly; that is, if you will join. She ought to have a season in town, ought she not, Mr. De Burgh?"

He looked keenly at Katherine, and smiled. "Yes, Miss Liddell ought totaste the incomparable delights of the season by all means. Life isincomplete without it. "

"I should like to experience it certainly, for once, but I shall be morein the mood for such excitements next year--_perhaps_, " returnedKatherine, gravely. 

"Oh, my dear Katie, never put things off! At all events, be presented. That would be a sort of beginning; and I am to be presented too, so wemight go together. "

"I do not intend to be presented, " said Katherine; "it would be needlesstrouble. I have not the least ambition to go to court. "

"But, Katherine, it is absolutely necessary to take your proper positionin society. It is not, Mr. De Burgh?"

"What is your objection?" asked De Burgh, disregarding his hostess. "Areyou too radical, or too transcendental, or what?"

"Neither. I simply do not care to go, and do not see the necessity ofgoing. "

"You were always the strangest girl!" cried Mrs. Ormonde, a good dealannoyed. "But still, if you were with _us_, you might see a good deal--"

"You know, Ada, I am fixed for this year, and would not change even if Icould. "

"Forgive me for interrupting you, " said Errington, coming from the nextroom. "But if you are disengaged, Lady Alice would be greatly obliged byyour playing for her. "

"Certainly, " cried Katherine. She had a sort of pleasure in obligingErrington, and Lady Alice for his sake; and putting her knitting intoits little case, she rose and accompanied him to what was called themusic-room, because it contained a grand piano and an old, nearlystringless violin. 

"I don't think, " said De Burgh, looking after her, "that yoursister-in-law is quite as much under your influence as you fancy. "

"Oh, don't you?" cried Mrs. Ormonde, feeling a flash of dislike toKatherine thrill through her. It was terribly trying to find an admirer, of whom she was so proud, drawn from her by that "tiresome, obstinategirl"; it was also enough to vex a saint to see her turn a deaf ear toher more experienced and highly placed sister's suggestion. "When youknow a little more of her you will see how obstinate and headstrong sheis. "

"Ah! troublesome qualities those, especially in a rich woman, and ahandsome one to boot. There is something very taking about thatsister-in-law of yours, Mrs. Ormonde. If I were Lady Alice I wouldn'ttrust Errington with her: she would be a dangerous rival. "

"Oh, nonsense! Do you think our Admirable Crichton could go wrong?"

"I don't know. If he ever does, he'll go a tremendous cropper. "

"Well, Mr. De Burgh, if you would like to go in and win, you had bettermake the running now. Once she 'comes out' in town, you will find a hostof competitors. "

"Ha! I suppose you think a rugged fellow like me would have little or nochance with the curled darlings of May Fair and South Kensington?" Mrs. Ormonde looked down on her fan, but did not speak. De Burgh laughed. "Who is going to bring her out?" he asked. 

"I am, " with dignity. 

De Burgh's reply was short and simple. He said, "Oh!" and theinterjection (is there an interjection now?--I am not young enough toknow) brought the color to Mrs. Ormonde's cheek and a frown to her fairbrow. "The young lady is, on the whole, original, " he continued. "Shedoes not care to be presented. "

"Do you believe her? I don't. She only said so from love ofcontradicting. "

"Yes, I believe her; she does not care about it now; but she willprobably get the court fever after a plunge into London life. Who issinging?--that is something different from the penny whistling LadyAlice gives us. "

"Why it must be Katherine! It is the first time she has sung since shecame. She is always afraid of breaking down, she says. I don't believeshe has sung since the death of her mother. " De Burgh's only reply wasto walk into the next room. Leaving Mrs. Ormonde in a state ofirritation against him, Katherine, and the world in general. 

Katherine was singing a gay Neapolitan air. She had a rich, sympatheticvoice, and sang with arch expression. 

Errington stood beside her, and Lady Alice, the rector's wife and one ortwo other guests, were grouped round. 

"Thank you. That is thoroughly Italian. You must have studied a gooddeal, " said Errington, who rather liked music, and was accustomed to thebest. 

"Very nice indeed, " added Lady Alice. "Very nice" was her highestpraise. "I should like to learn the song. "

"I do not think it would suit you, " observed Errington. 

"Why, Katherine, I had no notion you could 'tune up' in this way, " criedColonel Ormonde. "Give us another, like a good girl; somethingEnglish--'Robin Adair. ' There was a fellow in 'ours' used to sing itcapitally. "

"I cannot sing it, Colonel Ormonde. I am very sorry. "

"Oh, Katherine! I have heard you sing it a hundred times, " cried Mrs. Ormonde, joining them. "Why, it was a great favorite with poor dear Mrs. Liddell. "

"I cannot sing it, Ada, " repeated Katherine, quick and low. As she spokeshe caught Errington's eyes. 

"No one ought to dictate to a songstress, " he said, very decidedly. "Give us anything you like, so long as you sing. "

Kate bent her head, feeling that he understood her, and her handswandered over the keys for a minute; then, with a glance at ColonelOrmonde, she began "Jock o' Hazeldean. "

Katherine was not the kind of girl to nurse her grief, to dwell upon itwith morbid insistence: but she remembered, warmly, lovingly. At timesgusts of passionate regret swept over her and shook her self-control, and she dared not attempt her mother's favorite song; the mere requestfor it called up a cloud of memories. She saw the dear face, the sweetfaded blue eyes that used to dwell upon her so tenderly, with suchunutterable content. No other eyes would ever look upon her thus; neveragain could she hope for such perfect sympathy as she had once known. 

"Does that make up for 'Robin Adair, ' Colonel Ormonde?" she said whenthe song was ended. 

"A very good song and very well sung, but it's not equal to 'RobinAdair. '"

"Lady Alice, will you try that duet of Helmer's?" asked Katherine; andLady Alice graciously assented. 

"I shall miss your accompaniment dreadfully when I leave, " she said, when the duet was accomplished. "I feel so sure when you play, and youhelp me. I hope you will come and see me. Lady Mary, my aunt, would bevery pleased; don't you think she would?" to Errington, appealingly. 

"Certainly. I hope, Miss Liddell, you will not desert Alice. If you willpermit it, Lady Mary Vincent will have the pleasure of calling on you. "

"That will be very kind, " returned Katherine, softly. If this man weresafely married and settled, she thought, she would like to be friendswith his wife, and serve him in any way she could. If his eyes did notalways confuse and distress her, how much she could like him!

As she rose from the piano, De Burgh, who had been speaking aside withColonel Ormonde, left him to join her. "I have settled it all withOrmonde, " he said. "I am to have the pony-carriage and the dun ponies(not those Mrs. Ormonde generally drives) to-morrow; so, if it does notrain, I'll give you your first lesson; that is, _if_ you will allow me. "

"You are very prompt, " returned Katherine, "and very good to take somuch trouble. If it is fine, then, to-morrow. Pray arm yourself withpatience. Are not the dun ponies rather frisky?"

"Spirited, but free from vice. Ormonde had them from _my_ stables. It'sno use learning to drive with dull, inanimate brutes. You'll consideryourself engaged?"

"I do, if Mrs. Ormonde does not want me to go anywhere with her. "

"She will not, " said De Burgh, confidently. 

"Good-night, " returned Katherine. "Tell Mrs. Ormonde I have stolen away, for I have a slight headache. "

"What? going already?" cried De Burgh. "No more songs? The evening, then, is over. "

The following day was soft and bright. March had evidently made up hismartial mind to go out in a lamb-like fashion, and De Burgh wasunusually amiable and communicative. "When shall you be ready to start?"he asked, following Katherine from the breakfast-table. 

"To start where?" she asked. 

"What! have you forgotten our plans of last night?" was hiscounter-question. "I am to give you your first lesson in driving thismorning. I only wait your orders before going to see the ponies put in. We had better take advantage of the fine morning. "

"Ay, that's right, De Burgh; make hay while the sun shines, " saidOrmonde, with his usual tact and jocularity. "But it would be better tohave tried a quieter pair than Dick and Dandie. "

"I think you may trust Miss Liddell to me, " returned De Burgh, impatiently. "Well, when shall I bring round the trap?"

"Whenever you like. I am afraid you have set yourself a tiresome task. "

De Burgh laughed. "If you prove careless or disobedient, why, I'll notrepeat the dose. In half an hour, then, I'll have the carriage at thedoor. "

That half-hour was spent by Katherine in explaining to Cis and Charliethat she could not go out with them that day, for the morning waspromised to De Burgh, and after luncheon she had undertaken to try overthe song which had pleased her with Lady Alice, who was to leave thenext day. The little fellows thought themselves very ill-used. But MissRichards, who had greatly prized her deliverance from long muddy ramblessince Katherine's advent, promised to take them to fish in a streamwhich ran between the Castleford and Melford properties. 

"Do you suppose I shall dare to touch the reins of these terriblecreatures?" said Katherine when De Burgh dashed up to the door, and heldthe spirited, impatient animals steady with some difficulty. 

"We'll get rid of some of the steam first, and you will get accustomedto their playfulness, " he returned. "Here, Ormonde, haven't you a rugfor Miss Liddell? It may come on to rain. "

"Yes; here you are;" and Colonel Ormonde, who was examining theturn-out, tucked up his fair guest carefully, and warned them to be backin good time, as he wanted De Burgh to ride over with him to see somehorses which were for sale a mile or two at the other side of Monckton. 

"What a frightful pace;" said Katherine, after they had whirled out ofthe gates, yet feeling comforted by De Burgh's evident mastery of theponies. 

"You are not frightened? Don't you think I can manage them?"

"I am not comfortable, because I am not accustomed to horses and furiousdriving. "

"Oh, they will settle down presently. Where shall we go--throughGarston? It's a fine place. Perhaps you have seen it?"

"I have not, and I should like to see it very much. " She was delightedwith the suggestion. It would be a help to her, a consolation, to see sovisible a token of Errington's wealth. 

"Curious fellow, Errington, " resumed De Burgh. "I suppose he is aboutthe only man who isn't spoiled by the most unbroken prosperity. Still, afellow who never did anything wrong in his life is rather uninteresting;don't you think so?"

"Has he never done anything wrong? That seems rather incredible. "

"If he has, he has kept it deucedly close. But you are right; it is veryincredible. "

They drove on for a while in silence. It was a delicious morning--a bluesky flecked with fleecy white clouds, bright sunlight, birds singing, hedges budding, all nature welcoming the first sweet intoxication ofrenewed youth stirring in her veins. Katherine loved the spring-time, and felt its influence profoundly, but it was the first spring in whichshe had been alone; this time last year she--they--had been atBordighera. How heavenly fair it had been! But De Burgh was speaking:

"You did not hear, or rather heed, what I said, Miss Liddell; that's notcivil. "

"Indeed it is not--forgive me. What did you say?"

"I suppose you like country life best, as you demolished Mrs. Ormonde'sscheme respecting a house in town so promptly?"

"I enjoy looking at the country, but I know nothing of country life. Iam not sure I should like it. "

"What's your objection to drawing-rooms and balls--the seasongenerally?"

"I do not object; but is my deep mourning suited to these gayeties, Mr. De Burgh?"

"Well, no. I beg your pardon. Mrs. Ormonde started it, you know. I fancyit would take double-distilled mourning to keep her out of the swim. "

"It is impossible for one nature to judge another which is totallydifferent, fairly. "

"Very true and very prudent. I have not got to the bottom of yourcharacter yet, but I am pursuing my studies, " said De Burgh, with a grimsort of smile. "You see they are settling down to their work now, "pointing his whip to the ponies. "I'll give you the reins in a minute ortwo. "

"I think I ought to begin with something quieter, " said Katherine, looking at them uneasily. 

De Burgh laughed. "There is a nice stretch of level road beforeus--nothing to interfere with you. Change places with me, if you please. Here, put the reins between your fingers--so; now a turn of the wristguides them. I'll hold your hand for a bit. You had better not let thewhip touch them--so. There you are. I'll show you how to handle theribbons before you are a fortnight older; that is if you will come outevery day with me. "

"Would you take that trouble?" exclaimed Katherine. 

"I can take a good deal of trouble if I like my work. Now hold themsteady, and keep your eye on them. When we come to the trees, on there, turn to the left. "

"So far there doesn't seem to be much difficulty; they seem to go allright of their own accord, " she said, after a few minutes. 

"They are a capital pair; but there is nothing to disturb them. "

For the rest of the way to Garston, De Burgh only spoke to give thelesson he had undertaken, and Katherine found herself growing interestedand pleased. When they entered the gates, however, she asked him to takethe reins. She wanted to look about her, to remark the surroundings ofErrington's house. 

It was a fine place, somewhat flat, perhaps, but beautiful with splendidtrees, and a small lake, through which ran the stream in another part ofwhich Cis and Charlie were going to fish. The house stood well, thegrounds were admirably laid out and perfectly kept; evidences of wealthwere on all sides. 

"I suppose it costs a great deal of money to keep up a place like this, "said Katherine, breaking a silence which had lasted some minutes: DeBurgh never troubled himself to speak unless he really had something tosay. 

"I shouldn't care to live here on less than ten thousand a year, " hereturned, glancing round. 

"And has Mr. Errington all that money?"

"His father has a good deal more. He bought this place for him, Ibelieve. Old Errington is very wealthy, and on his last legs, from whatI hear. "

"Ten thousand a year! What a quantity of money!"

"Hem! I think I could get through it without much trouble. "

"Then you have always been rich?"

"Rich! I have been on the verge of bankruptcy all my life. I never knewwhat it was to have enough money. "

"But you seem to have gone everywhere and done everything. "

"Yes, by discounting my future at a ruinous rate, " he returned, with asort of reckless candor that amused his hearer. "You scarcely understandme, I suppose. "

"I think I do. I know how uncomfortable it is to want money. "

"Indeed! Still, it's not so hard on women as on men. "

"Why?"

"We want so much more. "

"Then you have so many more chances of earning it. "

"Earning it! Oh, that is a new view of the case!"

"I should not mind doing it; that is, if I could succeed. "

"Do you know, I took you for your nephews' governess. It never crossedmy mind you were an heiress. As a rule, heiresses are revolting to thelast degree. "

"I feel the compliment. "

"Remember, I like their money, only I object to its being encumbered. "

"You are wonderfully frank, Mr. De Burgh. "

"I dare say you said 'brutally frank' in your thoughts, Miss Liddell, and you are right. I am rather a bad lot, and a little too old to mend. But let it be a saving clause in your mind, if I ever recur to it, thatthe fact of your being nice enough for the governess impelled me tooffer driving lessons to the heiress. Will you take the reins? You mighthold them forever if you choose. "

"Not yet, thank you--when we get out on the road again, " returnedKatherine, not seeing or seeming to see his covert meaning. "You aresurely not a democrat?"

"A democrat? No. I have no particular view as regards politics; but ifthe devil ever got so completely the upper hand in this world as toleave it without a class to serve and obey _us_, their naturalsuperiors, I'd decline to stay here any longer, and descend by the helpof a bullet to lower regions, where I should have better society. "

"More congenial society, I am sure, " said Katherine, laughing, thoughrevolted by his tone. She felt it would never do to show she was. "Youare quite different from any one _I_ ever met. Do you know, you give methe idea of a wicked Norman Baron in the Middle Ages. "

De Burgh laughed, as if he rather enjoyed the observation. "I know, " hesaid; "a regular melodramatic villain, 'away with him to the lowestdungeon beneath the castle moat' sort of fellow, who would draw a Jew'steeth before breakfast and roast a restive burgher after. I wonder, considering you possess the two strongest attractions for men of thisdescription--money and (may I say it?) beauty--that you trust yourselfwith me. "

"Ah! you concealed your vile opinions successfully; so you see I couldnot know my danger, " returned Katherine, laughing. "You are not at all amodern man. "

"I accept the compliment. "

"Which I did not intend for one. When we get through the gates I willtake the reins again. "

"Certainly; but the ponies' heads will be turned homeward, and I amafraid they will pull. They have steadied down wonderfully. " The rest ofthe drive was spent in careful instruction, and Katherine was surprisedto find how quickly the time had gone when they reached the house. 

De Burgh interested her in spite of her dislike of the opinions andsentiments he expressed. There was something picturesque about the man, and she felt that he was attracted to her in a curious and almostalarming manner. Yet she was conscious of an inclination to play withfire. It was some time since she felt so light-hearted. The sight ofErrington's luxurious surroundings seemed to take something from theload upon her conscience, and this sense of partial relief gavebrilliancy to her eyes, as the fresh balmy air gave her something of herformer rich coloring. 

"By Jove!" cried Colonel Ormonde, as Katherine took her place atluncheon, "your drive has agreed with you. I've never seen you look sowell. You must pursue the treatment. How did she get on, De Burgh?"

"Not so badly. But Miss Liddell is more timid than I expected. She'llget accustomed to the look of the cattle in a little while. Courage islargely made up of a habit. I'll take some of that cold lamb, Ormonde. "And De Burgh spoke no more till he had finished his luncheon. 

"Do you know, Miss Liddell, that my father was an old friend of youruncle's?" said Errington that evening, as he placed himself beside heron a retired sofa, while Miss Brereton was executing some gymnastics onthe piano. "I have just been taking to Ormonde about him. I rememberhaving been sent to call upon him--long ago, when I was at college, Ithink. He lived in some wild north-land; I remember it was a great wayoff. Then my father went for a trip to Calcutta, and I fancy lost sightof his old chum. "

Katherine grew red and white as he spoke; she could only murmur, "Yes, Iwas told they had been friends. "

"Then you must accept me as a hereditary friend, " said Errington, kindly. "I shall tell my father that I have made your acquaintance, though he does not take much interest in anything now, I am sorry tosay. "

"I am sorry--" faltered Katherine. 

"Both Lady Alice and I hope to have the pleasure of seeing you in town, "continued Errington, having waited in vain for her to finish hersentence. "I am going to see her safely in her aunt's charge to-morrow, and shall not return, I fancy, till you have left. "

"You are both very good. I shall be most happy to see you again, "returned Katherine, mastering her forces, though she felt ready to flyand hide her guilty head in any corner. Errington felt that she wasunusually uneasy and uncomfortable with him, so made way the morereadily for De Burgh, who monopolized her for rest of the evening. 

The next day was wet, and for a week the weather was unsettled, so thatKatherine had only one more lesson in driving before the party broke up, and De Burgh too was obliged to leave. 

But Katherine prolonged her stay. Charlie, in ardor for fishing, hadslipped into the river and caught a severe, feverish cold. 

The way in which he clung to his auntie, the evident comfort he derivedfrom her presence, the delight he had in holding her cool soft hand inhis own burning little fingers, made him impossible for her to leavehim. By the time he was able to sit up and play with his brother, poorCharlie was a pallid little skeleton, and his auntie bade him a tenderadieu, determined to lose no time in finding sea-side quarters for theprecious invalid. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

TAKING COUNSEL. 

Miss Payne was busy looking over several cards which lay in a smallchina dish on her work-table. It was early in the forenoon, and shestill wore a simple muslin cap and a morning gown of gray cashmere. Hermouth looked very rigid and her eyes gloomy. To her enters her brother, fresh and bright, a smile on his lips and a flower in his button-hole. 

Miss Payne vouchsafed no greeting. Looking at him sternly, she asked, "Well! what do you want?"

"To ask at what hour Miss Liddell arrives, and if I am to meet her atthe station. "

"She is not coming to-day, " snapped Miss Payne; "she is not coming tillSaturday. "

"Indeed!" In a changed tone, "I hope she is all right?"

"It's hard to answer that. It seems one of the nephews has had afeverish cold, and she did not like to leave him. I do not feel surethere is not some real reason under this, for she adds that she isanxious to see and consult me about some matter she has much at heart. Perhaps there is a man at the bottom of it. "

"I hope not, " said Bertie, quietly, "unless she has found some formerfriend at Castleford. I do not think Miss Liddell is the sort of girl toaccept a man on five or six weeks' acquaintance, and she has scarcelybeen at Castleford so long. "

"It is impossible to fathom the folly of women when a lover is in thecase. "

"You are hard, Hannah. "

"I do not care whether I am or not. I don't want to lose Miss Liddellbefore the time agreed for. "

"No doubt she is a profitable--"

"It is no question of profit, " interrupted Miss Payne, grimly. "Whethershe goes or whether she stays she is bound to me financially for twelvemonths. But I am interested in Katherine, and it will be far better forher to stay on here and feel her way before she launches into the whirlof what they call society. I want to save her for a while from the wildrush of dressing, driving, dining, dancing, that has swept away all mygirls sooner or later. Look here: the mothers are flocking round heralready. " She began to take the cards out of the dish and read thenames: "Lady Mary Vincent, 23 Waldegrave Crescent; she is a sister ofthat Lord Melford who ran such a rig years ago. _Her_ boys are still atEton. I suppose she comes because her niece and Miss Liddell have struckup a friendship at Castleford. Then here are Mrs. And Miss Alford; weall knew them in Rome; there's a son _there_; they are respectablepeople, well off, and fighting their way up judiciously enough. LadyBarrington; _she_ has a nephew, but she will be useful. Mr. And Mrs. Tracey; they were at Florence, and have a couple of daughters; there maybe a nephew or a cousin, but I never heard of one; they are pleasant, sensible, artistic people, who just enjoy themselves and don't trouble. Lady Mildred Reptan, Miss Brereton, John de Burgh; I don't know these. All these people evidently think she is in town, or have only just comethemselves, but you see the outlook. "

"John de Burgh, " repeated Bertie, thoughtfully. "I remember somethingabout him; nothing particularly good. I believe he is on the turf. Yes, he is a famous steeple-chase rider, and rather fast--not too desirable afollower for Miss Liddell. "

"She met him at Castleford, and I rather think he is related to ColonelOrmonde. " Miss Payne put back the cards in the dish as she spoke, andremained silent for some instants. 

"You will be glad when Miss Liddell returns, " said Bertie. 

"So will you, " she returned, tartly. "But I hope you won't dip into herpurse so freely as you used for your reformed drunkards and raggedorphans. It was _too_ bad. "

"Miss Liddell never waits to be asked. She seems on the lookout forcases on which to bestow money. As she has plenty, why should I hesitateto accept it?"

Miss Payne slowly rubbed her nose with the handle of a small hook sheused for pulling out the loops of her tatting. "Katherine Liddell is anuncommon sort of girl, " she said, "but I like her. I have an idea thatshe likes me better than any of the others did, yet there are not manythings on which we agree. She is a little flighty in some ways, but shehas some sense too, some notion of the value of money; she does not loseher dead about dress, nor does she buy costly baubles at the jewellers'. She, certainly wastes a good many pounds on books, when a three-guineasubscription to Mudie's would answer the purpose quite as well. Thenshe is honestly deeply grieved at the loss of her mother, but she doesnot parade it, or nurse it either, and I think she has some opinion of_my_ judgment. Still she is a little unsettled, and not quite happy. "

"I think she deserves to be happy, " observed Bertie, with an air ofconviction--"if any erring mortal can deserve anything. "

"We seldom get our deserts, either way, _here_; indeed, this world is soupside down I am inclined to believe there must be another to put itstraight. "

"We have fortunately better proof than that, " returned her brother, gravely. 

"I must say I feel very curious to know what Katherine's plan is; I amterrible afraid there is a man in it. "

"Nothing more probable;" and Bertie fell into a fit of thought. "Youknow Mrs. Needham!" he asked suddenly. 

"Well, I just know her. "

"She is a most earnest, energetic woman, though we are not quite of onemind on all subjects. She wants to secure Miss Liddell's assistance ingetting up a bazar for the Stray Children's Home. I shall bring her tocall on you. "

"Don't!"--very emphatically. "I know more than enough people already, and I don't want any well-dressed beggars added to the number. "

"Well, I will not interfere; but that is of little consequence. If Mrs. Needham wants to come, she'll come. "

"I hate these fussy subscription-hunting women!" cried Miss Payne. 

"She does _not_ hunt for subscriptions, nor does she take any specialinterest in religious matters, but she approves of this particularcharity. She is an immensely busy woman, and writes in I don't know nowmany newspapers. "

"Newspapers! And are our opinions made up for us by rambling hussies of_that_ description?"

Bertie burst out laughing. "If Mrs. Needham heard you!" he exclaimed. "She considers herself 'the glass of fashion and the mould of form, ' themost successful and important woman in the world--the English world. "

Miss Payne's only reply was a contemptuous upward toss of the head. "Ifyou will be at Euston Square on Saturday to meet the five-fifty trainfrom Monckton, " she resumed, "I should be obliged to you--Miss Liddelltravels alone--and you can dine with us if you like after, unless youare going to preach the gospel somewhere. "

"Thank you. Why do you object to my preaching?"

"Because I like things done decently and in order. You are not ordained, and there are plenty of churches and chapels, God knows, for people togo to, if they would wash their faces and be decent. Now I can't stayhere any longer, so good-by for the present. " She took up a littlebasket containing an old pair of gloves, large scissors, and a ball oftwine, and walked briskly away to attend to the plants in her diminutiveconservatory. 

De Burgh did not prolong his absence; he returned to Castleford whileKatherine was still in attendance on the little invalid; but he foundhis stay neither pleasant nor profitable. Katherine was far too muchoccupied nursing her nephew to give any time or attention to herimpatient admirer. 

"Miss Liddell is a peculiar specimen of her sex, " he growled, in hisusual candid and unaffected manner, as he and Colonel Ormonde sat aloneover their wine. "She never leaves those brats. She must know that it'snot every girl _I_ should take the trouble of teaching, and yet shethrows over each appointment I make. Does she intend to adopt yourwife's boys? Adopted sons are an appendage no man would like to acceptwith a bride, be she ever so well endowed. "

"Oh, she will forget them as soon as she falls in love! You must carryon the siege more vigorously. "

"How the deuce are you to do it when you never get within hail of thefortress? There is something peculiar about Katherine Liddell I can'tquite make out. If she were a commonplace woman, angular, squinting, orgenerally plain, I could go in and win and collar the cash withouthesitation, but somehow or other I can't go into the affair in thisspirit. I want the woman as well as the money. "

"Well, I see no reason why you shouldn't have both. Your faintness ofheart never lost _you_ any fair lady, I am sure, Jack. "

"Perhaps not. " And he smoked meditatively for a minute or two. 

"Then you will not leave us to-morrow?" said Ormonde. 

"When does _she_ go up to town?" asked De Burgh. 

"On Monday, I believe. "

"Then I'll run up the day after to-morrow. Old De Burgh has just comeback from the Riviera. I'll go and do the dutiful, and tell him I havefound a suitable partner for my joys and sorrows; it will score to mycredit. He doesn't half like me, you know. Then I'll have a dozen betterchances to cultivate Miss Liddell in town, and away from your nursery, than I have here. Give me her address. She is a frank, unconventionalcreature, and won't mind coming out with me alone. "

"Very true. Mrs. Ormonde has persuaded me to take her to town for acouple of months; so we'll be there to back you up. "

"Good! Meanwhile I will do my best for my own hand. If she starts onMonday, I'll pay my respects to the peerless one by the time she hasswallowed her luncheon on Tuesday, " said De Burgh, with a harsh laugh. 

Thus it came to pass that De Burgh's card was amongst those preservedfor Katherine's inspection; but she postponed her departure first toWednesday, next to Saturday, and De Burgh grew savagely impatient whenColonel Ormonde informed him of these changes in a private note. 

When at last she did arrive, Miss Payne was struck by the look ofrenewed hope and cheerfulness in her young friend's face. Her movementseven were more alert, and her voice had lost its languid tone. 

"I thought you would find it difficult to get away, " said Miss Payne, as she assisted her to remove her travelling dress. "But I am verypleased to see you again, and to see you looking more like yourself. "

"I _feel_ more like my old self, " returned Katherine, actually kissingMiss Payne--a kind of treatment exceedingly new to her. 

"In fact, I am full of a project which will, I hope, make me muchhappier. I will tell you all about it after dinner, if we are alone. Your advice will be of great value to me. "

"Such as it is, I shall be glad to give it; though I do not supposeyou'll take it unless it suits your wishes. "

"Perhaps not, " said Katherine, laughing; "but I think it will. "

"She is going to marry some fortune-hunting scamp, " thought Miss Payne. "I was afraid no good would come of her visit to that little dressydolly sister-in-law of hers. " She only said, "Dinner will be ready inhalf an hour, and we shall be quite alone. "

Then she went quickly down stairs to her brother, who was gazing out ofthe window, but not seeing what he looked at. 

"You can't dine here to-day, Bertie, " said Miss Payne, abruptly, as sheentered the room. 

"And why not?"

"Because she wants to have some confidential conversation with me afterdinner, and we must be alone. "

"Have you any idea what it will be about?"

"No; and I am astonished at your putting the question. You may come inafter church to-morrow if you like. "

"Thank you. I shall be rather late, as I am going to an open-air servicebeyond Whitechapel. "

"Well, I do hope you'll get something to eat after. Are _you_ going topreach?"

"No. I seldom preach. I haven't the gift of eloquence. "

"Which means you have a little common-sense left. Really, Gilbert, for aman of thirty-five, or nearly thirty-five, you are too credulous. "

"It is my nature to be so, " he returned, laughing. "Well, good-by toyou. It is really unkind to turn me out in this unceremonious fashion. "So saying, with his usual sweet-tempered compliance he departed. 

"What a good boy he is!" said Miss Payne to herself, looking at thegrate, while by a dual brain action she made a brief calculation as tohow much longer she must burn coal. "He ought to have been a girl. Whydon't rich young women see that he is the very stuff to make a pleasanthusband, instead of those monsters of strength and determination thatfools of women make gods of, and themselves door mats for, and oftenfind to be only big pumpkins after all?"

Miss Payne's anticipations were of the gloomiest when, after theirquickly despatched dinner, she settled herself between the fire andwindow with her favorite tatting, drawing up the knots with viciousenergy. She opened proceedings by an interrogative "Well?" and closedher mouth with a snap. 

"Well, my dear Miss Payne, " began Katherine, who had settled herselfcomfortably in a corner of the sofa, "I have an important plan in mymind, and I want your co-operation. I should have written to you aboutit, only I waited to get Colonel Ormonde's consent. "

"It's a man!" ejaculated Miss Payne to herself. 

"To begin: I was not at all satisfied with the boys when I first went toCastleford. They were not exactly neglected, but they were quitesecluded. Mrs. Ormonde scarcely saw them, and their governess orattendant was not at all lady-like; she speaks with a London accent andmisplaces her _h'_s; altogether she is not the sort of person I shouldhave placed with the boys. Then the poor little fellows clung to me andmonopolized me as if I had been their mother; they made me feel likeone. Moreover, I seemed to see my own dear mother and hear her voicewhen they spoke to me. She loved them so much!"

Katherine paused suddenly, but almost immediately resumed: "Theyoungest, Charlie, is not yet seven, and is very delicate. He has hadrather a sharp attack of bronchitis. I am very anxious about him. How Iwant to take them to the sea-side next month, and to keep them there allthe summer, and I want your help to find a nice place. I know nothing ofthe English coast. More than this: I feel I could not get on withoutyou, so you must come with us. Suppose, dear Miss Payne, we take a housewith a garden near the sea, and you let this one? I will gladly pay allextra cost, while our original agreement, as far as I myself amconcerned, shall hold good. "

Miss Payne listened attentively to this long speech, the expression ofher countenance relaxing; but she did not reply at once. 

"I think, " she said, after a moment's thought, "that you are exceedinglyliberal, but I am not sure you are wise. As far as I am concerned, Ishould like your plan very much. I do not profess to be fond ofchildren, but I dare say these little boys would not interfere with me. As regards yourself, if you keep the children for the whole summer, itis possible Mrs. Ormonde might be inclined to leave them with youaltogether, and this would create a burden for you--a burden you are byno means called upon to bear. It is a dangerous experiment. "

"Not to me, " returned Katherine, thoughtfully. "In fact it is aconsummation for which I devoutly wish. I should like to adopt mynephews. "

"That would certainly be foolish. It would not be kind to the children, Katherine (as you wish me to call you). In the course of a year or twoyou will marry, and then the creatures who had learned to love you andlook on you as a mother would be again motherless. Do not take them fromtheir natural guardian. "

"What you say is very reasonable. You cannot know how certain I feelthat I shall _not_ marry. However, let us leave all that to arrangeitself in the future; let us think of the present. Colonel and Mrs. Ormonde are coming up to town, for two or three months, in May, and I donot like the idea of Cis and Charlie being left behind; so will you helpme, my dear Miss Payne? Shall you mind a spring and summer in some quietsea-side place?"

Again Miss Payne reflected before she spoke. "I should rather like it:and your idea of letting this house is a good one. Yes, I shall be happyto assist you as far as I can. The first question is, where shall wego?"

"That, I am sure, _you_ know best. "

An interesting disquisition ensued. Miss Payne rejected Bournemouth, Weymouth, Worthing, Brighton, and Folkestone, for what seemed toKatherine sufficient reason, and finally recommended Sandbourne, a quietand little-known nook on the Dorsetshire coast, as being mild but notrelaxing, not too near nor too far from town, and possessing fine sands, while the country round was less bare and flat than what usually liesnear the coast. 

Finally the "friends in council" decided to go down and look at theplace. "For, " observed Miss Payne, "if we are to go away the beginningof next month, we have little more than a fortnight before us. "

"By all means, " cried Katherine, starting up. "Let us go to-morrow; wemight 'do' the place in a day, and come back the next. You are really adear, to fall into my views so readily. "

"To-morrow? Oh! that's a little too fast; the day after, if you like. Now I wish you would look at these cards; they have all been left foryou in the last few days. "

Katherine took and looked over them with some running comments. "Mrs. Tracy! I shall be quite glad to see them again; they were always so kindand pleasant. Lady Mary Vincent! I did not think she would call so soon;I think I must go and see her to-morrow. I rather like her niece, LadyAlice Mordaunt; she is a nice, gentle girl. She is to be married verysoon to a man who interested me a good deal; such a thoughtful, cleverman, but rather provokingly composed and perfect--a sort of person whonever makes a mistake. "

"He must be a remarkable person, " said Miss Payne. 

"He will soon be in Parliament, and has some of the qualities which makea statesman, I imagine. I shall watch his progress. " Here Katherine tookup a card, and while she read the inscription, "John Fitzstephen deBurgh, " a slight smile crept round her lips. "I had no idea _he_ was intown, or that he would take the trouble of calling on me so soon. Ithought he was too utterly offended. "

"Why?" asked Miss Payne, looking at her curiously. 

"He is rather ill-tempered, I fancy, and he was vexed because Ipreferred staying with Charlie to going out with him: he offered toteach me how to drive; so I believe, like the rich young man in thegospel, he went away in desperation. "

"Hum! Is _he_ a rich young man?"

"He is not young, and I am not sure about his being rich. He has ahunting-lodge and horses, yet I don't fancy he is rich. He is a sort ofrelation of the Ormondes. "

"I suspect he is a spendthrift, and would like _your_ money. "

"Oh, very likely; but, my dear Miss Payne, you need not warn me; I amquite sufficiently inclined to believe that the men who show meattention are thinking more of what I have than what _I_ am. Believe meit is not an agreeable frame of mind. Mr. De Burgh is a strange sort ofcharacter. He amuses me; he is not a bit like a modern man. He doesn'tseem to think it worth while to conceal what he feels or thinks. Thereis an odd well-bred roughness about him, if I may use such anexpression; but I greatly prefer him to Colonel Ormonde. "

"Oh, you do? Colonel Ormonde is just an average man, " added Miss Payne. 

"I should hope the general average is higher; but I must not beill-natured. He has always been very kind to me. "

This was a pleasant interlude to Katherine. She had succeeded in hushingher heart to rest for a while, in banishing the thoughts which had longtormented her. Nothing had comforted and satisfied her as did thisproject of adopting her nephews. It is true she had not yet announcedit, but in her own mind she resolved that once they were under her wing, she would not let them go again, unless indeed something quiteunforeseen occurred; nor did she anticipate any difficulties with theirmother. She would thus secure a natural legitimate interest in life, andmake a home, which to a girl of her disposition was essential. Yet sheknew well that in renouncing the idea of marriage she was denying one ofthe strongest necessities of her nature. The love and companionship of aman in whom she believed, for whom she could be ambitious, who wouldlink her with the life and movement of the outer world, who would be thecomplement of her own being, was a dream of delight. Not that she feltin the least unable to stand alone, or fancied she was too delicate totake care of herself, but life without the love of another self couldnever be full and perfect. She was too true a woman not to value deeplythe tenderness of a man; yet she had firmly resolved in justice toherself, in fairness to any possible husband, to renounce that crown ofwoman's existence. It was the only atonement she could make. Well, atleast her loving care of these dear little boys, who were in point offact motherless, would in some degree expiate her evil deed, and wouldkeep her heart warm and her mind healthy. 

[**extra space]

Possessed of the true magic, "money, " obstacles faded away. Theexpedition to Sandbourne was most successful. Katherine was brighterthan Miss Payne had ever seen her before. The day was sunny, the placelooked cheerful and picturesque. It lay under a wooded hill, ending in abold rocky point, which sheltered it and a wide bay from the easterlywinds. A splendid stretch of golden sands offered a playground for theracing waves, and an old tower crowned an islet near the opposite pointof the land, which there lay low, and was covered with gorse andheather. 

There was an objectionable row of lodging-houses, against which must beentered a low, red-brick, ivy-grown inn, old-fashioned, picturesque, andcomfortable. One or two villas stood in their own grounds but wereoccupied, and one, evidently older was shut up. 

Perhaps because it was inaccessible, perhaps because it had a pleasantoutlook across the bay to the island and tower at its western extremity, Katherine at once determined it was the very place to suit them, andmade her way to the local house agent to see what could be done towardsecuring it. Cliff Cottage was not on his books, said the agent; but ifthe lady wished "he would apply to the owner, who had gone with his wifein search of health to the Riviera. In the meantime there is AmandaVilla, at the other end of Beach Terrace, very comfortable and elegantlyfurnished"--pointing to a glaring white edifice with a Belvedere towerin would-be Italian style. "I don't think you could find anythingbetter. " But the aspect of Amanda Villa did not please either lady, sothey returned to Cliff Cottage: and remarking a thin curl of blue smokefrom one of the chimneys, they ventured to make their way to a sideentrance, where their knocking was answered by an old deaf caretaker, who, for a consideration, permitted them to inspect the house. It provedto be all Katherine wished. Though the furniture was scanty and worn, itwas clean and well kept, and "We can easily get what is necessary, " sheconcluded, with the sense of power which always goes with a full purse. 

"Let us go back to the agent and get the address of the owner. "

"Better make your offer through him, " returned Miss Payne, and Katherinecomplied. 

The days which succeeded seemed very long. Katherine had taken a fancyto the quaint pretty abode, and was impatient to be settled there withher boys. There was a "preparatory school for young gentlemen, " whichwas an additional attraction to Sandbourne, both children beingextremely ignorant even for their tender years; and Katherine wasgreatly opposed to Colonel Ormonde's intention of sending Cecil away toa boarding-school. She wished him to have some preliminary trainingbefore he was plunged into the difficulties of a large boarding-school. To Colonel Ormonde her will was law, and if only she could get the houseshe wanted, all would go well. 

Of course Katherine lost no time in visiting her _protegee_ Rachel. Shehad written to her during her absence to let her feel that she was notforgotten; and the replies were not only well written and expressed, butshowed a degree of intelligence above the average. 

When Katherine entered the room where Rachel sat at work she was touchedand delighted at the sudden brightening of Rachel's sunken eyes, thejoyous flush that rose to her cheek. 

"Oh!" she exclaimed, "I did not expect you so soon. How good of you tocome!" She placed a chair, and in reply to Katherine's friendlyquestion, "How have you been going on?" Rachel gave an encouragingaccount of herself. Mrs. Needham had introduced her to two families, both of whom wished her to work in the house, which, though infinitelydisagreeable to her, she did not like to refuse. 

"Perhaps, " she added, "the counter-irritation was good for me, for Ifeel more braced up. And of all your many benefits, dear Miss Liddell, nothing has done me so much good as the books you sent me, except thesight of yourself. Do not think I am exaggerating, but I am a meremachine, resigned to work because I must not die, save when I see youand speak to you; then I feel I can live--that I have something to livefor, to show I am not unworthy of your trust in me. Perhaps time willheal even such wounds as mine. Is it not terrible to try and livewithout hope?"

"But you must hope, Rachel. You are not alone. I feel truly, deeplyinterested in you; believe me, I will always be your friend. You arelooking better, but I want to see your eyes less hollow and your mouthless sad. We are both young, and life has many lights and shades for usboth, so far as we can anticipate. "

A long and confidential conversation ensued, in the course of whichKatherine quite forgot there was any difference of position betweenherself and the humble dressmaker whom her bounty of purse and heart hadrestored. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

"MRS. NEEDHAM. "

When Katherine returned that afternoon she found Miss Payne was notalone. On the sofa opposite to her sat a lady--a large, well-dressedlady--with bright black eager eyes, and a high color. She held open onher lap a neat black leather bag, from which she had taken some papers, and was speaking quickly, in loud dictatorial tones, when Katherine camein. 

"Here is Miss Liddell, " said Miss Payne. 

"Ah! I am very glad, " cried the large lady, starting up and letting thebag fall, much of its contents scattering right and left. 

"Mrs. Needham, Miss Liddell, " said Miss Payne, with the sort of rigidaccent which Katherine knew expressed disapprobation. 

"Oh, thank you--don't trouble!" exclaimed Mrs. Needham, as Katherinepolitely bent down to collect the letters, note-book, memorandum, etc. "So sorry! I am too careless in small matters. Now, my dear MissLiddell, I must explain myself. Mr. Payne and I are deeply interested inthe success of a bazar which I am trying to organize, and he suggestedthat I should see you and make our objects thoroughly clear. "

With much fluency and distinctness she proceeded to describe the originand progress of the work she advocated, showing the necessity for a newwing to the "Children's Refuge, " and entreating Katherine's assistanceat the bazar. 

This Katherine gently but firmly declined. "I shall be most happy tosend you a check, but more I cannot undertake, " she said. 

"Well, that is very good of you; and in any case I am very pleased tohave made your acquaintance. Mr. Payne has told me how ready you are tohelp in all charitable undertakings. Now in an ordinary way I don't domuch in this line; my energies have been directed to another channel. Iam not what is generally called a religious woman; I am too broad in myviews to please the orthodox; but, at the same time, religion is in ourpresent stage essential. "

"I am sure religion is much obliged to you, " observed Miss Payne. "Howdo you and my brother get on?"

"Remarkably well. _I_ think him rather a fanatic; he thinks me a pagan. But we both have common-sense enough to see that each honestly wishes tohelp suffering humanity, and on that broad platform we meet. Mr. Paynetells me you don't know much of London, Miss Liddell. I can help you tosee some of its more interesting sides. I shall be most happy, though Iam a very busy woman. I am a journalist, and my time is not my own. "

"Indeed?" cried Katherine. "You mean you write for newspapers?"

"Yes; that is, I get what crumbs fall from the press_men's_ table. Theyget the best work and the best pay; but I can work as well as most ofthem, and sometimes mine goes in in place of what some idle, pleasure-loving scamp has neglected. Let me see"--pulling out herwatch--"five minutes to four. I must not stay. I have to look in at Mrs. Rayner's studio; she has a reception, and will want a mention of it. Then there are Sir Charles Goodman's training schools for deaf-mutes andthe new Art Photography Company's rooms to run through before I go tothe House of Commons to do my 'Bird's-eye View' letter for theAustralian mail to-morrow. "

"My dear Mrs. Needham, you take my breath away!" exclaimed Katherine. "Iam sure you could show me more of London--I mean what I should like tosee--than any one else. "

"Very well. Let me know when you come back to town, and you shall hear adebate if you like. I am not a society woman, but I have the _entree_ tomost places. Now good-morning--good-morning. You see your agreeableconversation has made me forget the time. " And shaking hands cordially, she hastened away. 

"_Our_ agreeable conversation, " repeated Miss Payne, with a somewhatcynical accent. "I wonder how many words you and I uttered! Why shemakes me stupid. Really Gilbert ought not to inflict such a tornado onus. "

"I like her, " said Katherine; "there is something kind and true abouther. I should like to see some of the places she goes to and the workshe does. She seems happy enough, too. I must not forget to write to herand send that check I promised. "

"Hem! If you give right and left you'll not have much left foryourself, " growled Miss Payne. Katherine laughed. 

"Oh, by-the-way, " resumed her chaperon, "I forgot to tell you thatColonel Ormonde arrived, shortly after you went out, with a large basketof flowers. He was vexed at missing you. He came up about some business, and wanted to take you to see some one. However, he could not come back. I can't say that I think he is well mannered. He was quite rough andbrusque, and asked with such an ill-bred sneer if you were off on anyprivate business with my brother. "

"I can't help thinking that he was annoyed because I appointed Mr. Payneco-trustee with Mr. Newton to my deed of gift, " said Katherine, thoughtfully. "But I know I could not have chosen a better man. "

"Well, I believe so, " returned his sister, graciously. "He is coming todinner, so you can give him your check. "

It was a great day for Cis and Charlie when they arrived in London tostay with "auntie, " who was at the station to receive and convey them toWilton Street. 

Charlie still looked pale and thin enough to warrant a general treatmentof cuddling and coddling calculated to satisfy any affectionate youngwoman's heart. They were to sleep at Miss Payne's residence, in order tobe rested and fresh for their journey to the sea-side next day. 

Miss Payne herself was unusually amiable, for she had let her housesatisfactorily for the greater part of the season, and this as Katherinepaid for the Sandbourne villa, was clear gain. 

When the boys and their auntie drove up to Miss Payne's abode she was agood deal annoyed to find De Burgh at the door in the act of leaving acard. He hastened to hand her out of the carriage, exclaiming:

"This is the first bit of luck I have had for weeks. You always manageto be out when I call. Come along, my boys. What lucky little fellowsyou are to come to town for the season!"

"Ah, but we are not going to stay in town. We are going to the sea-sideto bathe, and to sail in boats, and--"

"Run in, Charlie, like a good boy, " interrupted Katherine. "Your teawill be quite ready. "

"I suppose you will think me horribly intrusive if I ask you to let mecome in?" said De Burgh. There was something unusually earnest in histone. 

"Oh, not at all, " returned Katherine, politely, though she would havemuch preferred bidding him good-morning. "Here, Sarah, pray take theboys to their room and get their things off. I am sure they want theirtea. "

Miss Payne's sedate elderly house-maid looked quite elated as she tookCharlie's hand and, preceded by Cecil, led him upstairs. 

"Are you really 'out' when I come?" asked De Burgh when they reached thedrawing-room. 

Katherine took off her hat and pushed her hair off her brow as sheseated herself in a low chair. 

"Yes, I think so. I do not usually deny myself to any visitor. " Shelooked up, half amused, half interested, by the almost imploringexpression of his usually hard face. 

"I rather suspect I am not a favored guest?"

"Why do you say that, Mr. De Burgh? am I uncivil?"

"No. What a fool I am making of myself! Tell me, are you really goingaway to-morrow to bury yourself alive?"

"I am _really_. "

"After all, I believe you are right. _I_ am always bored in London. Women think it a paradise. "

"I like London so well that I shall probably make it my headquarters. "

"It's rather premature for you to make plans, isn't it?"

"Whether it is or not, I have arranged my future much to my ownsatisfaction. "

"The deuce you have! What, at nineteen?"

"Is that an attempt to find out my age?" asked Katherine, laughing. 

"No! for I fancy I know it. How far is this place you are going to fromtown, and how do you get to it?"

"The journey takes about three hours and a half, and you travel by theSouthwestern line. "

"Well, I intend to have the pleasure of running down to see youpresently, if you will permit me. "

"Oh, of course, we shall be very happy to see you. "

"I hope so, " said De Burgh, with a smile. "I don't think you are veryencouraging. If there are any decent roads about this place, shall weresume the driving lessons?"

"Thank you"--evasively. "I think of buying a donkey andchaise--certainly a pony for the boys. "

De Burgh laughed. "I suppose there is some boating to be had there. Ishall certainly have a look at the place, even if I be not admitted tothe shrine. " There was a pause, during which De Burgh seemed in profoundbut not agreeable thought; then he suddenly exclaimed: "By-the-way, haveyou heard the news? Old Errington died, rather sudden at last, some timelast night. "

"Indeed!" cried Katherine, roused to immediate attention. "I am verysorry to hear it. The marriage will then be put off. You know they weregoing to have it nearly a month sooner than was at first intended, because Mr. Errington feared the end was near. He was with his father, Ihope?"

"Yes, I believe he hardly left him for the last few days. Now thewedding cannot take place for a considerable time. "

"It will be a great disappointment, " observed Katherine. 

"To which of the happy pair?"

"To both, I suppose, " she returned. 

"Do you think they cared a rap about each other?"

"Yes, I do indeed. Every one has a different way of showing theirfeelings, and Mr. Errington is _quite_ different from _you_. "

"Different--and immensely superior, eh?"

"I did not say so, Mr. De Burgh. "

"No, certainly you did not, and I have no right to guess at what youthink. You are right. I am very different from Errington; and _you_ arevery different from Lady Alice. I fancy, were you in her place, even theirreproachable bridegroom-elect would find he had a little more of ourcommon humanity about him than he suspects, " said De Burgh, his darkeyes seeking hers with a bold admiring glance. 

Katherine's cheek glowed, her heart beat fast with sudden distress andanger. De Burgh's suggestion stirred some strange and painful emotion. 

"You are in a remarkably imaginative mood, Mr. De Burgh, " she said, haughtily. "I cannot see any connection between myself and your ideas. "

"Can't you? Well, my ideas gather round you very often. "

"I wish he would go away; he is too audacious, " thought Katherine. Whileshe said, "I think Mr. Errington will be sorry for his father; I believehe has good feeling, though he is so cold and quiet. "

"Oh, he has every virtue under the sun! At any rate he ought to be fondof him, for I fancy the old man has toiled all his life to be able toleave his son a big fortune. "

"Has he no brothers or sisters?"

"Two sisters, I believe, older than himself; both married. "

There was another pause. Katherine would not break it. She feltpeculiarly irritated against De Burgh. His observations had greatlydisturbed her. She could not, however, tell him to go, and he stoodthere looking perfectly at ease. This awkward silence was broken by thewelcome appearance of Cecil, who burst into the room, exclaiming:"Auntie, tea is quite ready! There is beautiful chicken pie and butteredcakes, and _such_ a beautiful cat!"

"What! for tea, Cis?" said Katherine, letting him catch her hand and tryto drag her away. 

"No--o. Why, what a silly you are! Puss is asleep in an arm-chair. Docome, auntie. The lady said I was tell you that tea was _quite_ ready. "

"Which means that the audience is over, " said De Burgh; "and I ratherthink you are not sorry. " He smiled--not a pleasant smile. "Well, youngman, did you never see me before?"--to Cecil, who was staring at him inthe deliberate, persistent way in which children gaze at objects whichfascinate yet partly frighten them. 

"I was thinking you were like--" The little fellow paused. 

"Like whom?"

Cis tightened his hold on his auntie's hand, and still hesitated. 

"Whom is Mr. De Burgh like?" asked Katherine, amused by the boy'searnestness. 

"Like the wicked uncle in the 'Babes in the Wood. ' Auntie gave it to me. Such a beautiful picture book!"

De Burgh laughed heartily and good-humoredly. "I can tell you, my boy, you would not find me a bad sort of uncle if it were ever my goodfortune to call you nephew. "

"But I have no uncle--only auntie, " returned Cis. 

"Ay, a very pearl of an auntie. Try and be a good boy. Above all, dowhat you are bid. I never did what I was bid, and you see what I havecome to. "

"I don't think there is much the matter with you, " said Cis, eying himsteadily. Then, with a sudden change in the current of his thoughts, hecried, "Do come, auntie; the cakes will be quite cold. "

"I will keep you no longer from the banquet, " said De Burgh. "I know youare wishing me at--well, my probable destination; so good-by for thepresent. " Then, to Cecil: "Shall I come and see you at--what is the nameof the place?--Sandbourne, and take you out for a sail in a boat--a bigboat?"

"Oh, yes, please. "

"Will you come with me, though I _am_ like the wicked uncle?"

"Yes, if auntie may come too. "

"If she begs very hard she may. Well, good-morning, Miss Liddell. I'llnot forget Sandbourne, _via_ Southwestern Railway. " So saying, De Burghshook hands and departed. 

The next day Miss Payne escorted her suddenly increased party to theirmarine retreat, returning the following afternoon to attend to thedetails of letting her house, for which she had had a good offer. 

Then came a breathing space of welcome repose to Katherine. Theinterest--nay, the trouble--of the children drew her out of herself, anddwarfed the past with the more urgent demands of the present. CliffCottage was a pretty, pleasant abode. The living rooms, which were of agood size, two of them opening with bay-windows on the pleasure-groundwhich surrounded the house on three sides, were, with the bedrooms overthem, additions to a very small abode. 

These Katherine succeeded in making pretty and comfortable. To wake inthe morning and hear the pleasant murmur of the waves; to open herwindow to the soft sweet briny air, and look out on the watersglittering in the early golden light; to listen to the laughter andshrill cries of Cis and Charlie chasing each other in the garden, andfeel that they were her charge--all this contributed to restore her to ahealthy state of mind, to strengthen and to cheer her. 

Cecil, to his dismay at first, was dispatched every morning to school, where he soon made friends and began to feel at home. Charlie Katherinetaught herself, as he was still delicate. Then a pony was added to theestablishment, and old Francois, ex-courier and factotum, used to takethe young gentlemen for long excursions each riding turn about on thequiet, sensible little Shetland. 

The pale cheeks which helped to make Charlie so dear to his aunt beganto show something of a healthy color before the end of May, andKatherine sometimes laughed to find herself boasting of Cecil's partsand progress to Miss Payne. But the metamorphosis wrought by the youngmagicians in this important personage was the most remarkable of theeffects they produced. Had Miss Liddell been less pleasant andprofitable, it is doubtful if Miss Payne would have consented to allowchildren--boys--to desecrate the precincts of her spotless dwelling;they were in her estimation extremely objectionable. Katherine was, however, a prime favorite; she had touched Miss Payne as none of herformer inmates ever did. 

Years of battling with the world had coated her heart with a tolerablyhard husk; but there was a heart beneath the stony sheath, and by someoccult sympathy Katherine had pierced to the hidden fount of feeling, and her chaperon found there was more flavor and warmth in life than sheonce thought. 

When, therefore, she had completed her business in London and wassettled at Cliff Cottage, she was surprised to find that the boys did_not_ worry her; nay, when they came racing to meet her in wild delightto show a tangled dripping mass of shells and sea-weed which they hadcollected in their wading, scrambling wanderings on the shore and amongthe rocks, she found herself unbending, almost involuntarily, andexamining their treasures with unfeigned interest. Then Cecil's veryfluent descriptions of his experiences at school, his escapades, historn garments, the occasional quarrels between the two boys, theirappropriation of Francois, and their breakages--all seemed to grownatural and pardonable when the young culprits ran to take her by thehand, and looked in her face with their innocent, trusting eyes. On thewhole, Miss Payne had never been so happy before, and Katherine forgotthe shifting sands on which she was uprearing the graceful fabric of hertranquil life. 

Sometimes they lured Bertie to spend a couple of days with them--dayswhich were always marked with a white stone. What arguments and ramblesKatherine enjoyed with him, and what goodly checks she drew to furtherhis numerous undertakings!

De Burgh did not fail to carry out his threat of inspecting Sandbourne. He found a valid excuse in a commission from Colonel Ormonde to adviseMiss Liddell respecting a pair of ponies she had asked him to buy forher. 

His visit was not altogether displeasing. No woman is quite indifferentto a man who admires her in the hearty, wholesale way which De Burgh didnot try to conceal. Katherine was much too feminine not to like theincense of his devotion, especially when he kept it within certainlimits. She did not credit him with any deep feeling; but in spite ofher strong conviction that he was attracted by her money, she recognizeda certain sincerity in his liking for herself. She enjoyed the idea ofhumbling his immense assurance, believing that any pain she mightinflict would be short-lived, while he was amazed to find how swiftlythe hours flew past when he allowed himself to spend a couple of days atSandbourne--surprised to feel so little of the contemptuous bitternesswith which he generally regarded his fellow-creatures, and sometimeswondered if it were possible that something more simple than even hisboyish self had come back to him. 

Still, Bertie Payne was a more welcome guest than De Burgh, in spite ofhis unspoken but evident devotion. With Bertie she could speak openly ofmatters on which she would not touch when with the other. To Bertie shecould talk of the mysteries of life, and argue on questions of belief. She was touched by the eagerness he showed to convert her to his ownextremely evangelical views, and though differing from him on manypoints, she deeply respected the sincerity of his convictions. 

The degree of favor shown by her to "that psalm-singing Puritan, " as DeBurgh termed him, was gall and wormwood to the latter, and indeed soirritated his spirit that he was driven to speak of the annoyance itcaused him to Mrs. Ormonde, of whose discretion and judgment he had buta poor opinion. 

Meantime no one heard or saw anything of Errington, who was supposed tobe deep in the settlement of his father's affairs, and winding up theestate, as the well-known house of Errington ceased to exist when thehead and founder was no more. Lady Alice had gone to stay with herbrother and sister-in-law, who lived abroad, as it was impossible forher to enter into the gayeties of the season under existingcircumstances, and the marriage was postponed until the end of July. 

In short, a lull had stilled the actors in this little drama. The streamof events had entered one of the quiet pools which here and there holdthe most rapid current tranquil for a time. 

With Mrs. Ormonde all went well. She had the newest and most charminggowns and bonnets, mantles and hats. She found herself very wellreceived by society, and quite a favorite with Lady Mary Vincent, whowas a very popular person. So much occupied was the pretty little womanthat May was nearly over before she could find time to accept hersister-in-law's repeated invitation to Cliff Cottage. 

"I am going down to Sandbourne on Friday, " she said to De Burgh oneevening as she was waiting for her carriage after a musical party atLady Mary Vincent's. 

"Indeed! I thought you were going last Monday. "

"Oh, I could not go on Monday. But if I don't go on Friday I do notthink I shall manage my visit at all. Tell me, what does Katherine findto keep her down there? Is it Bertie Payne?"

"How can I tell? She seems contented enough. For that matter, she mightfind my society equally attractive. Payne does not go down as often as Ido. "

"No?--but then Katherine has a leaning to sanctity, and you are nosaint. "

"True. By-the-way, talking of saints, there is a report that oldErrington's affairs were not left in as flourishing a condition as wasexpected. "

"Oh, nonsense! It is some mere ill-natured gossip. "

"I hope so. I think I will come down on Saturday and escort you back totown. "

"Pray do; it will enliven us a little. " A shout of "Mrs. Ormonde'scarriage!" cut short the conversation, and Mrs. Ormonde did not see DeBurgh again until they met at Cliff Cottage. 

Mrs. Ormonde's visit, long anticipated, did not prove an unmixedpleasure. She objected to what she considered the terribly long drive ofsome five miles from the railway station to Katherine's secludedresidence; she turned up her pretty little nose at the smallness of thecottage and its general homeliness; she evinced an unfriendly spirittoward Miss Payne, who was perfectly unmoved thereby; and when the boys, well washed and spruced up, approached her, not too eagerly, shescarcely noticed them. This, of course, reacted on the little fellows, who showed a decided inclination to avoid her. 

She was tired after a warm journey and previous late hours, anddreadfully afraid that sea air and sun together would have a ruinouseffect on her complexion. When, however, she had had tea and made afresh toilette, she took a less gloomy view of life at Sandbourne, andhaving recovered her temper, she remembered it would be wiser not tochafe her sister-in-law. 

"To be sure, " thought the astute little woman, "the boys' settlement isout of her power to revoke; but it would be rather good if she came tolive with us, instead of filling the pockets of this prim, presumptuous, self-satisfied old maid. I am sure she is awfully selfish, and I do hateselfishness. "

So reflecting, she descended serene and smiling. Half an hour after, shehad so completely recovered herself as to declare she had never seen theboys look so well, that they were quite grown, etc. , etc. 

After dinner Cecil displayed his exercise and copy books, and received adue meed of praise, not unmixed with a little sarcastic remark or tworespecting the wonderful effect of his aunt's influence, which did notescape the notice of her son, who felt, though he did not understandwhy, that she was not quite so well pleased as she affected to be. 

"And don't you feel dreadfully dull here?" asked Mrs. Ormonde, as thesisters-in-law strolled along the beach under the shelter of the eastcliff, which hid them from the bright morning sunlight. 

"No, not as yet. I should not like to live here always; but at present Ilike the place. You must confess it is very pretty. "

"Yes, just now, when the weather is fine. When you have rain and a gale, it must be fearfully dreary. "

"We have had some rough days, but the bay has a beauty of its own evenin a storm, and we shall not be here in the winter. "

"De Burgh runs down to see you pretty often?" asked Mrs. Ormonde, aftera short pause. The old regimental habit of calling men by their surnamesstill returned when she was off guard. 

"Yes, " replied Katherine, calmly; "he seems to enjoy a day by thesea-side. "

Mrs. Ormonde laughed--a hard laugh. "I dare say _you_ enjoy it too. "

"Mr. De Burgh is not particularly sympathetic to me, but I like himbetter than I did. "

"Oh, I dare say he makes himself very pleasant to you, and I never knewhim show attention to an unmarried woman before, nor to many marriedwomen either. Of course it would be absurd to suppose that if you hadnot a good fortune you would see quite so much of him. "

"Naturally, " returned Katherine. "I fancy my money would be of great useto him; so it would to most men. That does not affect me. If it is anincentive to make them agreeable and useful, why, so be it. "

"I did not expect to hear _you_ talk like that. Now I hate and despisemercenary men. "

"Well, you see, the man or the woman _must_ have money or there can beno marriage. "

"How worldly you have grown, Kate!" cried Mrs. Ormonde, in a superiortone. She did not perceive anything but sober seriousness in hersister-in-law's tone, and was infinitely annoyed at her taking theinsinuations against De Burgh's disinterestedness with suchindifference. "I suppose you think it would be a very fine thing to beBaroness De Burgh, and go to court with all the family jewels on. "

"I shall certainly not go as Katherine Liddell. "

"Pray, why not? Ah, yes; it would all be very fine! But I am too deeplyinterested in you, dear, not to warn you that De Burgh would make a verybad husband; he has such a horrid, sneering way sometimes; and as tobeing faithful--constancy is a thing unknown to him. "

"What would Colonel Ormonde say if he knew you gave his favorite kinsmanso bad a character?"

"Oh, my dear Katherine, you must not betray me! Duke would be furious. But of course your happiness is my first consideration. "

"Thank you, " returned Katherine, gravely. 

"And Mr. Payne, how does he like Mr. De Burgh's visits here?"

"I don't think he minds"--seriously. "I should be sorry if he wereannoyed. I am very fond of Bertie Payne. "

This declaration somewhat bewildered Mrs. Ormonde. But before she couldfind suitable words to reply, Charlie came running to meet them, jumpingup to kiss his aunt first, and cried; "Mr. De Burgh has come. I saw himdriving up to the hotel outside the omlibus. "

"The omnibus!" repeated Mrs. Ormonde. 

"He would find no other conveyance from the train unless he ordered onepreviously, " said Katherine, laughing. 

"Dear me! I suppose he will be here directly. How early he must havestarted!" in a tone of annoyance. "I feel so hot and uncomfortable afterthis dreadfully long walk, I _must_ change my dress before I see anyone. " And she hastened on. 

After holding his aunt's hand for a while, Charlie darted away toovertake Francois, whom he perceived at a little distance. 

"I declare, Katherine, you are quite supplanting me with those boys!"exclaimed their mother, querulously. 

"Ada, I would not for the world wean them from you, if--Imean"--stopping the words which rushed to her lips. "I should be sorry. But you have new ties--another boy. Could you not spare Cis and Charlieto me--for I have no one?"

"I am sure that is your own fault. However, if after three or fourmonths' experience you are not tired of them, I shall be very muchsurprised. "

On reaching the house, Mrs. Ormonde went straight to her own apartmentto "refit, " and Katherine sat down in the smaller drawing or morningroom, which looked west and was cool. She had not been there manyminutes before De Burgh was announced. 

"Alone!" he exclaimed. "Where is Mrs. Ormonde?"

"She will be here immediately. "

"Has she persuaded you to return with her? I wish you would. Lady G----gives a dinner at Richmond on Thursday; it will be rather amusing. Iknow most of the fellows who are going, and I think you would enjoy it. You like good talkers, I know. "

"Thank you; I have refused. "

"Absolutely?"

"Absolutely. "

De Burgh came over and leaned his shoulder against the side of thewindow opposite to where Katherine sat. 

"What are you thinking of, if I may ask, Miss Liddell?" he said. "Youhave scarcely heard what I said. They are not pleasant thoughts, Ifancy. "

"No, " she returned, glad to put them into words that she might exorcisethem. "Ada has just reproached me with supplanting her with her boys, and it made me feel, as Americans say 'bad. '"

"Why?" he asked. "Why should you not? I would lay long odds that youlove them more than she does. You are more a real mother to them. Whyare you always straining at gnats? You really lose a lot of time, whichmight be more agreeably occupied, worrying over the rights and wrongs ofthings. Follow my example: go straight ahead for whatever you desire, provided it's not robbery, and let things balance themselves. "

"Has that system made you supremely happy?"

"Happy! Oh, that is a big word. I have had some splendid spurts ofenjoyment; and now I have an object to win. It will give me a lot oftrouble; it's the heaviest stake I ever played for; but it will go hardwith me if I don't succeed. "

De Burgh had been looking out at the stretch of water before him as hespoke, but at his last words his eyes sought Katherine's with a look shecould not misunderstand. She shivered slightly, an odd passing sense offear chilling her for a moment as she turned to lay her hat upon thetable near, saying, in a cold, collected tone. 

"You must always remember that the firmest resolution cannot insuresuccess. "

"It goes a long way toward it, however, " he replied. 

"Ah, there is Cis!" cried Katherine, glad to turn the conversation, "come back from school. Are you not earlier than usual, Cis?"--as theboy came bounding over the grass to the open window. 

"No, auntie; it is one o'clock. "

"Well, young man, " said De Burgh, who was not sorry to be interrupted, as he felt he was treading dangerous ground, and with instinctive tactendeavored always to keep friends with Katherine's pets, "I have broughtyou a present, if auntie will allow you to keep it. "

"What is it?--a box of tools, real tools? I do so want a box of tools!But auntie is afraid I will cut myself. "

"No; it's a St. Bernard puppy that promises to turn out a fine dog. "

"Oh, thank you! thank you! that _is_ nice. I don't think you are a bitlike the wicked uncle now. May I go and fetch it now, this moment?"

"Not till after dinner, dear. "

"Oh, isn't it jolly! A real St. Bernard dog!"--capering about. "You_are_ a nice man!"

"What _are_ you making such a noise for, Cis?" exclaimed his mothercoming in, looking admirably well, fresh, becomingly dressed. "Go away, dear, and be made tidy for your dinner. Well, Mr. De Burgh, I neverdreamed of your arriving so early. Did you get up in the middle of thenight?"

"Not exactly. The fact is, I must drive over to Revelstoke late thisevening and catch the mail train. I have a command to dine with theBaron to-morrow, to talk over some business of importance, and dared notrefuse, as you can imagine. The everlasting old tyrant has been quiteamiable to me of late. "

"Then you'll not be here to escort me back to town, and I hatetravelling alone!" cried Mrs. Ormonde. 

"Unfortunately no, " said De Burgh. "But I have a piece of news for youthat will freeze the marrow in your bones: Errington is completelyruined. "

"Impossible!" cried both his hearers at once. 

"It's too true, I assure you. When, after the old man's death, he beganto look into things with his solicitor, he was startled to find certaindeficiencies. Then the head clerk, the manager, who had everything inhis hands--bossed the show, in short--disappeared, and on furtherexamination it proved that the whole concern was a mere shell, out ofwhich this scoundrel had sucked the capital. There was an awful amountof debt to other houses, several of which would have come down, andruined the unfortunates connected with them, if Errington had not comeforward and sacrificed almost all he possessed to retrieve the credit ofhis name. He says he ought to have undertaken the risks as well asreaped the profit of the concern. Garston Hall is advertised for sale;so is the house in Berkley Square; his stud is brought to thehammer--everything is given up. What he'll do I haven't an idea. But Imust say I think his sense of honor is a little overstrained. "

"And Lady Alice!" ejaculated Katherine. 

"Of course Melford will soon settle that, if it is not settled already, for a good deal was done before the matter got wind. There hasn't beensuch a crash for a long time. In short, Errington is utterly, completelyruined. "

"I never heard of such a fool!" cried Mrs. Ormonde. "It was bad enoughto be disappointed of the wealth old Errington was supposed to have leftbehind him, but to give up everything! Why, he is only fit for a lunaticasylum. What an awful disappointment for poor Lady Alice!"

Katherine did not, could not speak. The rush of sorrow for the heavyblow which had fallen on the man she had robbed, the shame andself-reproach, which had been lulled asleep for a while, which now wokeup with renewed power to torment and irritate--these were too much forher self-control, and while Mrs. Ormonde and De Burgh eagerly discussedthe catastrophe, she kept silence and struggled to be composed. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

CONFESSION. 

"Errington is completely ruined!" De Burgh's words repeated themselvesover and over again in Katherine's ears through the darkness and silenceof her sleepless night. What would become of him--that grave, statelyman who had never known the touch of anything common or unclean? Howwould he live? And what an additional blow the rupture of his engagementwith Lady Alice! He was certainly very fond of her. It was like him togive up all he possessed to save the honor of his name, but how would itbe if he were penniless? Had _she_ not robbed him, he might have enoughto live comfortably after satisfying every one. As she thought, aresolution to restore what she had taken formed itself in her mind. Perhaps if he could show that he had still a solid capital, hisengagement to Lady Alice need not be broken off. If she could restorehim to competence, he would not refuse some provision for the poor dearboys. Were she secure on _this_ point, she would be happier without themoney than with it. But the humiliation of confession--and to _such_ afather confessor? How could she do it? Yet it must be done. 

"Good gracious, Katherine, you look like a ghost!" was Mrs. Ormonde'ssalutation when the little party met at breakfast next morning. "Prayhave you seen one?"

"Yes; I have been surrounded by a whole gallery of ghosts allnight--which means that a bad conscience would not let me sleep. "

"What nonsense! Why, you are a perfect saint, Kate, in some ways; but inothers I must say you are foolish; yes, dear, I must say it--_very_foolish. "

"I dare say I am, " returned Katherine; "but whether I am or not, I havean intense headache, so you must excuse me if I am very stupid. "

"I am sure you want change, Katherine. Do come back with me to town. There is quite time enough to put up all you want before 11, and thetrain goes at 11. 10. There is a little dance, 'small and early' at LadyMary Vincent's this evening, and I know she would be delighted to seeyou. "

"I do not think hot rooms the best cure for a headache, " observed MissPayne; "and till yesterday Katherine had been looking remarkably well. She was out boating too long in the sun. "

"You are very good to trouble about me, Ada. My best cure is quiet. Iwill go and lie down as soon as I see you off, and I dare say shall bemyself again in the evening. I may come up to town for a day or twobefore you return to Castleford, but I will let you know. "

Nothing more was said on the subject then, but when Katherine returnedfrom the station after bidding her sister-in-law good-by, Miss Payne mether with a strong recommendation to take some "sal volatile and water, and to lie down at once. "

"I did not, of course, second Mrs. Ormonde's suggestions--the idea ofyour going for rest or health to _her_ house!--but I am really vexed tosee you look so ill. How do you feel?"

"Very well disposed to follow your good advice. If I could get somesleep, I should be quite well. " Katherine smiled pleasantly as shespoke. She was extremely thankful to secure an hour or two of silenceand solitude. 

During the night her heart, her brain, were in such a tumult she couldnot think consecutively. Alone in her room, and grown calmer, she couldplan her future proceedings and screw her courage to the desperatesticking-point of action such as her conscience dictated. 

She fastened her door and set her window wide open. After gazing forsome time at the sea, golden and glittering in the noonday sun, andinhaling the soft breeze which came in laden with briny freshness, shelay down and closed her eyes. But though keeping profoundly still, norestful look of sleep stole over her set face; no, she was thinkinghard, for how long she could not tell. When, however, she camedownstairs to join Miss Payne at tea, the anxious, nervous, alarmedexpression of her eyes had changed to one of gloomy composure. 

"Though I do not care to stay with Ada, I want to go to town to-morrowfor a little shopping, and to see Mr. Newton if I can. I will take thequick train at half-past eight and return in the evening. You might sendto meet the nine o'clock express. Should anything occur to keep me, Iwill telegraph. "

"Very well"--Miss Payne's usual reply to Katherine's propositions. "Butare you quite sure you feel equal to the journey?"

"Yes, quite equal, " returned Katherine, with a short deep sigh. "Ibelieve it will do me good. "

That Errington had been stunned by the blow which had fallen so suddenlyupon him cannot be disputed. His first and bitterest concern was dreadlest the character of his father's house, which had always stood sohigh, lest the honor of his own name, should suffer the smallesttarnish. It was this that made him so eager to ascertain the fullliabilities of the firm, so ready to sacrifice all he possessed so thatno one save himself should be the loser. "If I accepted a handsomefortune from transactions over which I exercised no supervision, I musthold myself doubly responsible for the result, " he argued, and at onceset to work to turn all he possessed into money. 

In truth the prospect of poverty did not dismay him. 

His tastes were very simple. It was the loss of power and position, which wealth always bestows, which he would feel most, and the necessityof renouncing Lady Alice. 

This was imperative. Yet it surprised him to perceive how little he feltthe prospect of parting with her on his own account. Indeed he wasrather ashamed of his indifference. It was for Lady Alice he felt. Itwould be such a terrible disappointment--not that Errington had muchpersonal vanity. He hoped and thought Lady Alice Mordaunt liked him in acalm and reasonable manner, which is the best guarantee for marriedhappiness. But it was the loss of a tranquil home, a luxurious life, anescape from the genteel poverty of a deeply embarrassed earl's daughterto the ease and comfort of a rich man's wife, that he deplored for her. Poor helpless child! she would probably find a rich husband ere long whowould give her all possible luxuries, for a noble's daughter of highdegree is generally a marketable article. But he, Miles Errington, wouldhave been kind and patient. Would that other possible fellow be kind andpatient too? Knowing his own sex, Errington doubted it. He had a certainamount of the generosity which belongs to strength. To children, and thekind of pretty, undecided women who rank as children, he was wonderfullyconsiderate. But it was quite possible that were he married to asensible, companionable wife he might be exacting. 

At present it seemed highly improbable that he should ever reach aposition which would enable him to commit matrimony. Thirty-four israther an advanced age at which to begin life afresh. 

The prospect of bachelorhood, however, by no means dismayed him. Indeedit was more a sense of his social duties as a man of fortune and afuture senator that had impelled him to seek a wife, not an irresistibledesire for the companionship of a ministering spirit. He was trulythankful that his marriage had bean delayed, and that he was nothampered by any sense of duty toward a wife in his design of sacrificinghis all to save his credit. 

After the first few days of stunning surprise, Errington set vigorouslyto work to clear the wreck. Garston was advertised; his stud, hisfurniture--everything--put up for sale, and his own days divided betweenhis solicitor and his stock-broker. His first step was to explainmatters to his intended father-in-law, who, being an impulsive, self-indulgent man, swore a good deal about the ill-luck of allconcerned, but at once declared the engagement must be at an end. 

As Lady Alice was still in Switzerland with her brother and his wife, itwas considered wise to spare her the pain of an interview. Lord Melfordexplained matters to his daughter in an extremely outspoken letter, enclosing one from Errington, in which, with much good feeling, he badeher a kindly farewell. To this she replied promptly, and a week saw theextinction of the whole affair. Errington could not help smiling at this"rapid act. " It was then about three weeks after the blow had fallen--awarm glowing June morning. Errington's man of business had just lefthim, and he had returned to his writing-table, which was strewn, orrather covered, with papers (nothing Errington ever handled was"strewn"), and continued his task of making out a list of hisprivate liabilities, which were comparatively light, when hisvalet--not yet discharged, though already warned to look for anothermaster--approached, with his usually impassive countenance, andpresented a small note. 

Errington opened it, and to his inexpressible surprise read as follows:

 "TO MR. ERRINGTON, --Allow me to speak to you alone. "KATHERINE LIDDELL. "

"Who brought this?" asked Errington, suppressing all expression as wellas he could. 

"A young person in black, sir--leastways I think she's young. "

"Show her in; and, Harris, I am engaged if any one calls. "

Errington went to the door to meet his most unexpected visitor. The nextmoment she stood before him. He bowed with much deference. She bent herhead in silence, but did not offer to shake hands. She wore a blackdress and a very simple black straw hat, round which a white gauze veilwas tied, which effectually concealed her face. 

"Pray sit down, " was all Errington could think of saying, so astonishedwas he at her sudden appearance. 

Katherine took a seat opposite to his. She unfastened and took off herveil, displaying a face from which her usual rich soft color had faded, sombre eyes, and tremulous lips. Looking full at him, she said, withoutgreeting of any kind, "Do you think me mad _to_ come here?"

"I am a little surprised; but if I can be of any use--" Errington begancalmly. She interrupted him. 

"I hope to be of use to _you_. No one except myself can explain how orwhy; that is the reason I have intruded upon you. "

"You do not intrude, Miss Liddell. I am quite at your service; only Ihope you are not distressing yourself on my account. "

"On yours and my own. " Her eyes sank, and her hands played nervouslywith the handle of a small dainty leather bag she carried, as shepaused. Then, looking up steadily, and speaking in a monotonous tone, asif she were repeating a lesson, with parched lips she went on: "I didyou a great wrong some years ago. I was sorry, but I had not the courageto atone until I learned (only yesterday) that you had lost, or rathergiven up, your fortune, and that your engagement might be broken off. (I_must_ speak of these things. You will forgive me before I come to anend. ) Then I felt something stronger than myself that forced me to tellyou all. " Her heart beat so hard that her voice could not be steadied. She stopped to breathe. 

"I fear you are exciting yourself needlessly, " said Errington, quitebewildered, and almost fearing that his visitor's brain was affected. 

"Oh, listen!--do listen! My uncle, John Liddell, your father's oldfriend, left all his money to you. I hid the will, and succeeded as nextof kin. The property amounts to something more than eighty thousandpounds, and I have not spent half the income, so there are some savingsbesides. Can you not live comfortably on that, and marry Lady Alice?"

Errington gazed at her for a moment speechless. A sigh of relief brokefrom Katherine. The color rose to her cheeks, her throat, her smallwhite ears, and then slowly faded. 

"I can hardly understand you, Miss Liddell. I fear you are under theeffect of some nervous hallucination. "

"I am not. I can prove I am not. " She drew forth the packet inscribed"MS. To be destroyed, " and laid it before him. "There is the will. ThankGod I never could bring myself to destroy it. Here, pray read it. " Sheopened the document and handed it to him. 

There were a few moments' dead silence while Errington hastily skimmedthe will. "_I_ am most reluctantly obliged to believe you, " he said atlength. "But what an extraordinary circumstance! How"--looking earnestlyat her--"how did it ever occur to you to--to--"

"To commit a felony?" put in Katherine, as he paused. 

"No; I was not going to use such a word, " he said, gravely, but notunkindly. 

"If you have time to listen I will tell you everything. Now that I havetold the ugly secret that has made a discord in my life, I can speakmore easily. " But her sweet mouth still quivered. 

"Yes, tell me all, " said Errington, more eagerly than perhaps he hadever spoken before. 

In a low but more composed voice Katherine gave a rapid account of thecircumstances which led to her residence with her uncle: of her intensedesire to help the dear mother whose burden was almost more than shecould bear; then of the change which came to the old miser--hisincreasing interest in herself, and finally of his expressed intentionto change his will--as she hoped, in her favor; of her leaving it, byhis direction, in the writing-table drawer; of his terribly suddendeath. 

Then came the great temptation. "When Mr. Newton said that if the willexisted it would be in the bureau, but that as he had been on the pointof making another, so he (Mr. Newton) hoped he had destroyed the last, "continued Katherine, "a thought darted through my brain. Why should itbe found? _He_ no longer wished its provisions to be carried out. Ishould not, in destroying or suppressing it, defeat the wishes of thedead. I determined, if Mr. Newton asked me a direct question, I wouldtell him the truth; if not, I would simply be silent. In short, Imentally _tossed_ for the guidance of my conduct. Silence won. Mr. Newton asked nothing; he was too glad that everything was mine. He hasbeen very, very good to me. I imagined that half my uncle's money wouldgo to my brother's children, but it did not; so when I came of age Isettled a third upon them. Of course the deed of gift is now but so muchwaste paper, and for them I would earnestly implore you to spare alittle yearly allowance for education, to prepare them to earn their ownbread. I feel sure you will do this, and I do deeply dread their beingthrown on Colonel Ormonde's charity; their lot would be very miserable. My poor little boys!" Her voice broke, and she stopped abruptly. 

Errington's eyes dwelt upon her, almost sternly, with the deepestattention, while she spoke. Nor did he break silence at once; he leanedback in his chair, resting one closed hand on the table before him. Atlast he exclaimed: "I wish you had not told me this! I could not haveimagined you capable of such an act. "

"And more, " said Katherine; "although I wish to make what reparation Ican, had that act to be done again--even with the anticipation of thisbitter hour--I'd do it. "

She looked straight into Errington's eyes, her own aflame with suddenpassion. He was silent, his brow slightly knit, a puzzled expression inhis face. The natural motion of his mind was to condemn severely such alawless sentiment, yet he could not resist thinking of those brilliantspeaking eyes, nor help the conviction that he had never met a real livewoman before. It was like a scene on the stage; for demonstrativeemotion always appeared theatrical to him, only it was terribly earnestthis time. 

"You would not say so were you calmer, " said Errington, in a curioushesitating manner. "Why--why did you not come and tell me your need foryour uncle's money? Do you think I am so avaricious as to retain thefortune, or all the fortune, that ought to have been yours, when I hadenough of my own?"

"How could I tell?" she cried. "If I knew you then as I do now I_should_ have asked you, and saved my soul alive; but what did the nameof Errington convey to me? Only the idea of a greedy enemy! Are men soready to cast the wealth they can claim into the lap of another? Whenyou spoke to me that day at Castleford I thought I should have droppedat your feet with the overpowering sense of shame. But withal, when Iremember my disappointment, my utter inability to help my dearovertasked mother, round whom the net of difficulty, of debt, offruitless work, was drawing closer and closer, I again feel theirresistible force of the temptation. You, who are wise and strong andjust, might have resisted; but"--with a slight graceful gesture ofhumility--"you see what I am. "

"If you had stopped to think!" Errington was beginning with unusualseverity, for he was irritated by the confusion in his own mind, whichwas so different from his ordinary unhesitating decision between rightand wrong. 

"But when you love any one very much--so entirely that you know everychange of the dear face, the meaning even of the drooping hand or thebend of the weary head; when you know that a true brave heart isbreaking under a load of care--care for you, for your future, when itwill no longer be near to watch over and uphold you--and that no thoughtor tenderness or personal exertion can lift that load, only the magic ofgold, why, you would do almost anything to get it. Would you not if youloved like _this_?" concluded Katherine. She had spoken rapidly and withfire. 

"But I never have, " returned Errington, startled. 

"Then, " said she, with some deliberation, "wisdom for you is from oneentrance quite shut out. " She pressed her handkerchief to her eyes, andwas very still during a pause, which Errington hesitated to break. 

"It is no doubt lost breath to excuse myself to a man of your character, only do believe I was not meanly greedy! Now I have told you everything, I readily resign into your hands what I ought never to have taken. And--and you will spare my nephews wherewithal to educate them? Do whatI can, this is beyond my powers, but I trust to your generosity not tolet them be a burden on Colonel Ormonde. I leave the will with you. " Shemade a movement as if to put on her veil. 

"Listen to me, Miss Liddell, " said Errington, speaking very earnestlyand with an effort. "You are in a state of exaltation, of mentalexcitement. The consciousness of the terrible mistake into which youwere tempted has thrown your judgment off its balance. I do not for aninstant doubt the sincerity of your proposition, but a little reflectionwill show you I could not entertain it. "

"Why not? I am quite willing to bear the blame, the shame, I deserve, rather than see you parted from the woman who was so nearly your wife, who would no doubt suffer keenly, and who--"

"Pray hear me, " interrupted Errington. "To part with Lady Alice is agreat aggravation of my present troubles; but considering the kind oflife to which we were both accustomed, and which she had a right toexpect, I am sincerely thankful she was preserved from sharing my lot. Alone I can battle with life; distracted by knowing I had dragged _her_down, I should be paralyzed. I shall always remember with gratefulregard the lady who honored me by promising to be my wife, but I shallbe glad to know that she is in a safe position under the care of aworthier man than myself. _That_ matter is at rest forever. Now as tousing the information you have placed in my power, you ask what isimpossible. First, it is evident that the late Mr. Liddell fullyintended to alter his will in your favor. It would have been most unjustto have bestowed his fortune to me. I am extremely glad it is yours. "

"But, " again interrupted Katherine, "why should you not share it atleast? Why should you be penniless while I am rich with what is notmine?"

"I shall not be absolutely penniless, " said Errington, smiling gravely. "Even if I were, " he continued, with unusual animation, "do you think mecapable of rebuilding my fortune on your disgrace? or of inventing someelaborate lie to account for the possession of that unlucky will? Noamount of riches could repay me for either. I dare say the temptationyou describe was irresistible to a nature like yours, and I dare say toothe punishment of your self-condemnation is bitter enough. Now you mustreflect that your duty is to keep the secret to which you have boundyourself. If you raise the veil which must always hide the true facts ofyour succession, you would create great unhappiness and confusion inColonel Ormonde's family, and injure the innocent woman whom he wouldnever have married had he not been sure you would provide for the boys. It would so cruel to break up a home merely to indulge a morbid desirefor atonement. No, Miss Liddell. Be guided by me; accept the life youhave brought upon yourself. _I_, the only one who has a right to do it, willingly resign what ought to have been yours without yourunfortunately illegal act. Your secret is perfectly safe with me. Timewill heal the wounds you have inflicted on yourself and enable you toforget. Leave this ill-omened document with me; it is safer than in yourhands. Indeed there is no use in keeping it. "

"But what--what will become of _you?_" she asked, with strangefamiliarity, the outcome of strong excitement which carried her over allconventional limits. 

"Oh, I have had some training in the world both of men and books, and Ihope to be able to keep the wolf from the door. "

"Would you not accept part at least--a sum of money, you know, to beginsomething?" asked Katherine, her voice quivering, her nerves relaxingfrom their high tension, and feeling utterly beaten, her high resolvesof sacrifice and renunciation tumbling about her, like a house of cards, at the touch of common-sense. 

"I do not think any arrangements of the kind practicable, " returnedErrington, with a kind smile. "I understand your eagerness to relieveyour conscience by an act of restitution, but now you are exonerated. Iask nothing but that you should forgive yourself, and knit up theravelled web of your life. The fortune ought to be yours--isyours--shall be yours. "

"Will you promise that if you ever want help--money help--you will askme? I shall have more money every year, for I shall never spend myincome. "

"I shall not want help, " he returned, quietly. "But though it is notlikely we shall meet again, believe me I shall always be glad to knowyou are well and happy. Let this painful conversation be the last wehave on this subject. For my part, I grant you plenary absolution. "

"You are good and generous; you are wise too; your judgment constrainsme. Yet I hope I shall _never_ see you again. It is too humiliating tomeet your eyes. " She spoke brokenly as she tied the white veil closelyover her face. 

"Nevertheless we part friends, " said Errington, and held out his hand. She put hers in it. He felt how it trembled, and held it an instant witha friendly pressure. Then he opened the door and followed her to theentrance, where he bowed low as she passed out. 

Errington returned at once to his writing-table and his calculations. Hetook up his pen, but he did not begin to write. He leaned back in hischair and fell into an interesting train of thought. What anextraordinary mad proceeding it was of that girl to conceal the will! Itwas strangely unprincipled. "How impossible it is to trust a person whoacts from impulse! The difference between masculine and femininecharacter is immense. No man with a grain of honor in him would havedone what she did; only some dastardly hound who could cheat at cards. And she--somehow she seems a pure good woman in spite of all. I supposein a woman's sensitive and weaker nature good and evil are lessdistinct, more shaded into each other. After all, I think I would trustmy life to the word of this daring law-breaker. " And Errington recalledthe expressive tones of her voice, surprised to feel again the strangethrill which shivered through him when she had looked straight into hiseyes, her own aglow with momentary defiance, and said, "Had it to bedone again, I'd do it!" He had never been brought face to face with realemotion before. He knew such a thing existed; that it led like mostthings to good and to evil; that it was exceedingly useful to poets, whooften touched him, and to actors, who did not; but in real every-daylife he had rarely, if ever, seen it. The people with whom he associatedwere rich, well born, well trained; a crumpled rose leaf here and therewas the worst trouble in their easy, conventional, luxurious lives. Ofcourse he had met men on the road to ruin who swore and drank andgambled and generally disgraced themselves. Such cases, however, did notaffect him much; he only touched such characters with moral tongs. Nowthis delicate, refined girl had humbled herself before him. Her sweetvarying tones, her moist glowing eyes, the indescribable tremulousearnestness which was the undertone of all she said, her determinedefforts for self-command, made a deep impression on him. Was she rightwhen she said that from him "wisdom by one entrance was quite shut out?"At all events he felt, though he did not consciously acknowledge it evento himself, that this impulsive, inexperienced girl, whom he strove tolook down upon from the unsullied heights of his own integrity, hadrevealed to him something of life's inner core which had hitherto beenhidden from his sight. 

But all this dreaming was unpardonable waste of time when so muchserious work lay before him. So Errington resolutely turned from hisunusual and disturbing reverie, dipped his pen in the ink, and began towrite steadily. 

CHAPTER XX. 

PLENARY ABSOLUTION. 

Katherine never could distinctly remember what she did after leavingErrington. She was humbled in the dust--crushed, dazed. She felt thatevery one must perceive the stamp of "felon" upon her. 

The passionate desire to restore his rightful possessions to Errington, to confess all, had carried her through the dreadful interview. She wasinfinitely grateful to him for the kind tact with which he concealed theprofound contempt her confession must have evoked, but no doubt thatsentiment was now in full possession of his mind. It showed in hisunhesitating, even scornful, rejection of her offered restitution. Shealmost regretted having made the attempt, and yet she had a kind ofmiserable satisfaction in having told the truth, the whole truth, toErrington; anything was better than wearing false colors in his sight. 

It was this sense of deception that had embittered her intercourse withhim at Castleford; otherwise she would have been gratified by his gravefriendly preference. 

How calm, how unmoved, he seemed amid the wreck of his fortunes. Yes, his was true strength--the strength of self-mastery. How different, howfar nobler than the vehemence of De Burgh's will, which was too strongfor his guidance! But Lady Alice could never have lovedErrington--never--or she would have loved on and waited for him till thetime came when union might be possible. Had _she_ been in her place! Butat the thought her heart throbbed wildly with the sudden perception that_she_ could have loved him well, with all her soul, and rested on him, confident in his superior wisdom and strength--a woman's ideal love. Andbefore this man she had been obliged to lay down her self-respect, toconfess she had cheated him basely, to resign his esteem for ever! Itwas a bitter punishment, but even had she been stainless and he a freeman, she, Katherine, was not the sort of girl _he_ would like. She wastoo impulsive, too much at the mercy of her emotions, too quick informing and expressing opinions. No; the feminine reserve andtranquility of Lady Alice were much more likely to attract hisaffections and call forth his respect. This was an additional ingredientof bitterness, and Katherine felt herself an outcast, undeserving oftenderness or esteem. 

The weather was oppressively warm and sunless. A dim instinctiverecollection of her excuse for coming to town forced Katherine to visitsome of the shops where she was in the habit of dealing, and then shesat for more than a weary hour in the Ladies' Room at Waterloo Station, affecting to read a newspaper which she did not see, waiting for thetrain that would take her home to the darkness and stillness in whichfriendly night would hide her for a while. The journey back was acontinuation of the same tormenting dream-like semi-consciousness, andby the time she reached Cliff Cottage she felt physically ill. 

"It was dreadfully foolish to go up to town in this heat, " said MissPayne, severely, when she brought up some tea to Katherine's room, whereshe retreated on her arrival. "I dare say you could have written forwhat you wanted. "

"Not exactly"--with a faint smile. 

"I never saw you look so ill. You must take some sal volatile, and liedown. If there had been much sun, I should have said you had had asunstroke. I hope, however, a good night's rest will set you up. "

"No doubt it will; so I will try and sleep now. "

"Quite right. I will leave you, and tell the boys you cannot see themtill to-morrow. " So Miss Payne, who had a grand power of minding her ownaffairs and abstaining from troublesome questions, softly closed thedoor behind her. 

It took some time to rally from the overwhelming humiliation of thiscrisis. Katherine came slowly back to herself, yet not quite herself. Miss Payne had been so much disturbed by her loss of appetite, ofenergy, of color, that she had insisted on consulting the local doctor, who pronounced her to be suffering from low fever and nervousdepression. He prescribed tonics and warm sea-water baths, which adviceKatherine meekly followed. Soon, to the pride of the SandbourneÆsculapius, a young practitioner, she showed signs of improvement, anddeclared herself perfectly well. 

Perhaps the tonic which had assisted her to complete recovery was aletter which reached her about a week after the interview that hadaffected her so deeply. It was addressed in large, firm, clear writing, which was strange to her. 

"I venture to trouble you with a few words, " (it ran) "because when lastI saw you I was profoundly impressed by the suffering you could nothide. I cannot refrain from writing to entreat you will accept theposition in which you are placed. Having done your best to rectify whatis now irrevocable, be at peace with your conscience. I am the onlyindividual entitled to complain or interfere with your succession, and Ifully, freely make over to you any rights I possess. Had your uncle'sfortune passed to me, it would have been an injustice for which I shouldhave felt bound to atone: nor would you have refused my proposition tothis effect. Consider this page of your life blotted out, casting itfrom your mind. Use and enjoy your future as a woman of your nature, sofar as I understand it, can do. It will probably be long before I seeyou again--which I regret the less because it might pain you to meet mebefore time has blunted the keen edge of your self-reproach. Absent orpresent, however, I shall always be glad to know that you are well andhappy. "Will you let me have a line in reply? "Yours faithfully, MILES ERRINGTON. "

The perusal of this letter brought Katherine the infinite relief oftears. How good and generous he was! How heartily she admired him! Howgladly she confessed her own inferiority to him! Forgiven by him, shecould face life again with a sort of humble courage. But oh! it wouldbe impossible to meet his eyes. No; years would not suffice to blunt thekeen self-reproach which the thought of him must always call up--theshame, the pride, the dread, the tender gratitude. Long and passionatelyshe wept before she could recover sufficiently to write him the reply heasked. Then it seemed to her that the bitterness and cruel remorse hadbeen melted and washed away by these warm grateful tears. He forgaveher, and she could endure the pressure of her shameful secret moreeasily in future. At last she took her pen, and feeling that the linesshe was about to trace would be a final farewell, wrote:

"My words must be few, for none I can find will express my sense of theservice _yours_ have done me. I accept your gift. I will try and followyour advice. Shall the day ever come when you will honor me by acceptingpart of what is your own? Thank you for your kind suggestion not to meetme; it would be more than I could bear. Yours, KATHERINE. "

Then with deepest regret she tore up his precious letter into tinymorsels, and striking a match, consumed them. It would not do to incurthe possibility of such a letter being read by any third pair of eyes. Moreover, she was careful to post her reply herself. And so, asErrington said, that page of her story was blotted out, at least, fromthe exterior world, but to her own mind it would be ever present: roundthis crisis her deepest, most painful, ay, and sweetest memories wouldcling. It was past, however, and she must take up her life again. 

She felt something of the weakness, the softness, which convalescentsexperience when first they begin to go about after a long illness, thedreamy, quiet pleasure of coming back to life. The boys continued to beher deepest interest. So time went on, and no one seemed to perceive thesubtle change which had sobered her spirit. 

The season was over, and Mrs. Ormonde descended on Cliff Cottage for aparting visit. She had only given notice of her approach by a telegram. 

"You know you are quite too obstinate, Katherine, " she said, as thesisters-in-law sat together in the drawing-room, waiting for the cool ofthe evening before venturing out. "You never came to me all through theseason except once, when you wanted to shop, and now you refuse to joinus at Castleford in September, when we are to have really quite a niceparty: Mr. De Burgh and Lord Riversdale and--oh! several really goodmen. "

"I dare say I do seem stupid to you, but then, you see, I know what Iwant. You are very good to wish for me. Next year I shall be verypleased to pay you a visit. "

"Then what in the world will you do in the winter?"

"Remain where I am--I mean with Miss Payne--and look out for a house formyself. "

"But, my dear, you are much too young to live alone. "

"I am twenty-one now; I shall be twenty-two by the time I am settled ina house of my own. And, Ada, I am going to ask you a favor. Lend me yourboys to complete my respectability. "

"What! for altogether? Why, Katherine, you will marry, and--"

"Well, suppose I do, that need not prevent my having the comfort of mynephews' company until the fatal knot is tied. "

"Now, dear Katherine, _do_ tell me--_are_ you engaged to any one? Not aforeigner?--anything but a foreigner!"

"At present, " said Katherine, with some solemnity, "I am engaged to twoyoung men. "

"My dear! You of all young girls! I am astonished. There is nothing sodeep, after all, as a demure young woman. I suppose you are in a scrape, and want Colonel Ormonde to help you out of it?"

"I think I can manage my own affairs. "

"Don't be too sure. A girl with money like you is just the subject for abreach-of-promise case. Do I know either of these men?"

"Yes, both. "

"Who are they?" cried Mrs. Ormonde, with deepening interest. 

"Cis and Charlie, " returned Katherine, laughing. 

"I really cannot see anything amusing in this sort of stupidmystification, " cried Mrs. Ormonde, in a huff. 

"Pray forgive me; but your determination to marry me out of hand temptsme to such naughtiness. However, be forgiving, and lend me the boys tillnext spring. They might go to Castleford for Christmas. "

"Oh no, " interrupted Mrs. Ormonde, hastily. "I forgot to mention thatOrmonde has almost promised to spend next Christmas in Paris. It is sucha nuisance to be in one's own place at Christmas; there is such workdistributing blankets and coals and things. If one is away, a check tothe rector settles everything. I assure you the life of a countrygentleman is not all pleasure. "

"Then you will let me have the boys?"

"Well, dear, if you really like it, I do not see, when you have such afancy, why you should not be indulged. "

"Thank you. And I may choose a school for Cis?"

"I am sure the neither Ormonde nor I would interfere; just now it is ofno great importance. But--of course--that is--I should like someallowance for myself out of their money. "

"Of course you should have whatever you are in the habit of receiving. "

After this, Mrs. Ormonde was most cordial in her approbation ofeverything suggested by her sister-in-law. The friendly conversation wasinterrupted by the entrance of Cecil with his satchel over his shoulder. He went straight to his young aunt and hugged her. 

"Well, Cis, I see you don't care for mother now, " exclaimed Mrs. Ormonde, easily moved to jealousy, as she always was. 

"Oh yes, I do! only you don't like me to jump on you, and auntie doesn'tmind about her clothes. " And he kissed her heartily. 

"Do you want to come back to Castleford?"

"What, now? when the holidays begin next week?"--this with a ruefulexpression. "Why, we were to have a sailing boat, and old Norris thesailor and his boy are to come out every evening. "

"Then you don't want to come?"

"Oh, mayn't we stay a little longer, mother? It _is_ so nice here!"

"You may stay as long as your aunt cares to keep you, for all I care, "cried Mrs. Ormonde, somewhat spitefully. 

"Oh, thank you, mother dear--thank you!" throwing his arms round herneck. "I'll be such a good boy when I come back; but it _is_ nice here. Then you have baby, and he does not worry you as much as we do. "Katherine thought this a very significant reply. 

"There! there!" cried Mrs. Ormonde, disengaging herself from the warmclinging arms. "Go and wash your hands; they are frightfully dirty. "

"It's clean dirt, mother. I stopped on the beach to help Tom Damer tobuild up a sand fort. "

"Why did Miss North let you?"

"Oh, I was by myself! I don't want _any_ one to take care of me, " saidCecil, proudly. 

"Good heavens! do you let the child walk about alone?" cried Mrs. Ormonde, with an air of surprise and indignation. 

"Run away to Miss North, " said Katherine, and as Cecil left the room shereplied: "As Cecil is nine years old, Ada, and a very bright boy, Ithink he may very well be let to take care of himself. The school is notfar, and he cannot learn independence too soon. "

"Perhaps so. But of course you know better than I do. You were alwaysmore learned, and all that; besides, you are not over anxious, as amother would be. "

"Nor careless either, " said Katherine thinking of the nights atCastleford when she used to steal to the bedside, of little feverish, restless Charlie, while his mother kept within the bounds of her ownluxurious chamber. 

"No, no; certainly not, " returned Mrs. Ormonde, remembering it was aswell not to offend so strong a person as she felt Katherine to be. "OnlyCecil is a tiresome, self-willed boy, and very likely to get intomischief. "

"If you wish it, Ada, I shall, of course, have him escorted to and froto school. "

"Oh, just as you like. I suppose you know the place better than I do. "

"Colonel Ormonde has never come down to see me, " resumed Katherine, after a pause. "You must tell him I am quite hurt. "

"Well, dear, you must know that Duke is rather vexed with you. "

"Vexed with me! Why?" asked Katherine, opening her eyes. 

"You see, he thinks you ought to have come to us for a while; and thenDe Burgh came back from this last time in such a bad temper that myhusband thought you were not behaving well to him--making a fool of him, in short; inviting him down here to amuse yourself, and then refusinghim, if you _did_ refuse. "

"No, I did not; for Mr. De Burgh never gave me an opportunity, " criedKatherine, indignantly. "Nor did I ever ask him here. I cannot preventhis coming and lodging at the hotel. I am quite ready to talk to him, because he amuses me, but I am not bound to marry every man who does. Tell Colonel Ormonde so, with my compliments. "

"I am sure _I_ don't want you to marry De Burgh! Indeed, I am surprisedat Duke; but you see, being chums and relations (and men stick togetherso), that he only thinks of De Burgh, who, _entre nous_, has beenawfully fast. He _is_ amusing, and very _distingue_, but I am afraid heonly cares for your money, dear. "

"Very likely, " returned Katherine, with much composure. 

"Then another reason why the Colonel does not care to come down is thathe has a great dislike to that Miss Payne. _She_ is really hostess here, and it worries Duke to have to be civil to her. "

"Why?" asked Katherine. "I can imagine her being an object of perfectindifference; but dislike--no!"

"Well, dear, men never like that sort of women;--people, you know, whoeke out their living by--doing things, when they are plain and old. Handsome adventuresses are quite another affair--they are amusing andattractive. "

"How absurd and unreasonable!"

"Yes, of course; they are all like that. Then he thinks Miss Payne has abad and dangerous influence on you. He disapproves of your living onwith her, for you don't take the position you ought, and--"

Katherine laughed good-humoredly as Mrs. Ormonde paused, not knowingvery well how to finish her speech. "Colonel Ormonde will hide the lightof his countenance from me, then, I am afraid, for a long time; for Ilike Miss Payne, and I am going to stay with her for the period agreedupon; and I will _not_ marry Mr. De Burgh, nor will I let him ask me todo so, for there is a degree of honesty about him which I like. You mayrepeat all this to your husband, Ada, and add that but for a luckychance his wife and myself would have been among the sort of women whoeke out their living by doing things. I don't think I should be afraidof attempting self-support if all my money were swept away. "

"Don't talk of such a thing!" cried Mrs. Ormonde, turning pale. "ThankGod what you have settled on the boys is safe!"

Katherine's half-contemptuous good humor carried her serenely throughthis rather irritating visit, but the totally different train of thoughtwhich it evoked assisted her to recover her ordinary mental tone. Itwas, however, touched by a minor key of sadness, of humility (save whenroused by any moving cause to indignation), which gave the charm of softpensiveness to her manner. 

Mrs. Ormonde was rather in a hurry to go back to town, as she hadimportant interviews impending with milliner and dressmaker prior to avisit to Lady Mary Vincent at Cowes, from which she expected the mostbrilliant results, for the little woman's social ambition grew with whatit fed upon. Nor did the rational repose of Katherine's life suit her. Books, music, out-door existence, were a weariness, and in spite of herloudly declared affection for her sister-in-law she found a curiousrestraint in conversing with her. 

They parted, therefore, with many kind expressions and muchsatisfaction. 

"I will write you an account of all our doings at Cowes. I expect itwill be very gay and pleasant there. How I wish you were to be of theparty, instead of moping here!" said Mrs. Ormonde. 

"Thank you. I should like it all, no doubt, but not just now. I willkeep you informed of our small doings. "

So Mrs. Ormonde steamed on her way rejoicing, and Katherine re-entered apretty low pony-carriage in which she drove a pair of quiet, well-brokenponies, selected for her by Bertie Payne, whose conversion had notobliterated his carnal knowledge of horseflesh. A small groom alwaysaccompanied her, for though improved by the practice of driving, she didnot like to be alone with her steeds. 

She had nearly reached the chief street of Sandbourne, when a tallgentleman in yachting dress strolled slowly round the corner of a lanewhich led to the beach. He paused and raised his hat. She recognized DeBurgh and drew up. 

"And so you are driving in capital style, " was his greeting; "all byyourself, too. Will you give me a lift back?"

"Certainly. Where have you come from?"

"Melford's yacht. I escorted my revered relative, old De Burgh, down toCowes. He has a little villa there. As he has grown quite civil of late, I think it right to encourage him. Melford was there, and invited me totake a short cruise. So I made him land me here just now. The yacht isstill in the offing. Lady Alice was on board. "

"Indeed!" exclaimed Katherine, with much interest. "How is she?"

"So far as one can judge from the exterior, remarkably well, and exactlythe same as ever. It is rather funny, but they had Renshaw on board too, the son of the big brewer who has bought, or is going to buy, Errington's house in Berkeley Square. I fancy it is not impossible hemay come in for Errington's ex-_fiancee_ as well as his ex-residence. "

"It cannot be, surely!" cried Katherine, flushing with a curiousfeeling. 

"Why not? I don't say immediately. I have no doubt everything will bedone decently and in order. "

"Well, it is incomprehensible. "

"Not to me. What can--(Make that little brute on the off side keep up tothe collar. You want a few lessons from me still. ) What can a girl likeLady Alice do? She is an earl's daughter. She cannot dig; to beg she isashamed; she must therefore take to herself a husband from the mammon ofunaristocratic money-grubbers. "

"I should like to meet her again--poor Lady Alice!" said Katherine, moreto herself than to her companion. 

"I think you are wasting your commiseration, " he returned. "She seemsquite happy. "

"She may be successful in hiding her feelings. "

De Burgh laughed. "Tell me, " he asked, "do you really think Errington isthe sort of fellow women break their hearts about?"

"I cannot tell. He seems to me very good and very nice. "

"That is a goody-goody description. Well done!"--as Katherine guidedher ponies successfully through the gate of her abode and turned themround the gravel sweep. "I must say you have a pretty little nook here. "

"Had you arrived an hour sooner you would have seen Mrs. Ormonde. I havejust seen her off by the 12. 30 train. She has been paying us a farewellvisit, and is gone to Lady Mary Vincent. "

"Indeed! She will have her cup of pleasure running over there; they livein a flutter of gayety all day long. "

Here De Burgh sprang to the ground and assisted Katherine to alight. 

"Will you lunch with us?" she asked, an additional tinge of colormounting to her cheek; for she knew De Burgh was no favorite of MissPayne, who was no doubt rejoicing at the prospect of repose anddeliverance from their late guest, who generally managed to rub herhostess the wrong way. 

"You are very kind. I shall be delighted. "

While Katherine went ostensibly to put aside her hat--really to warnMiss Payne--De Burgh strolled into the drawing-room. How cool and freshand sweet with abundant flowers it was! An air of refined homelinessabout it, the work and books and music on the open piano, spoke ofwell-occupied repose. Its simplicity was graceful, and indicated thepresence of a cultured woman. 

De Burgh wandered to the window--a wide bay--and took from a table whichstood in it a cabinet photograph of Katherine, taken about a yearbefore. He was absorbed in contemplating it when she came in, and hemade a step to meet her. "This is very good, " he said. "Where was ittaken?"

"In Florence. "

"It is like"--looking intently at her, and then at the picture. "But youare changed in some indescribable way, changed since I saw you last, years ago--that is, a month--isn't it a month since you drove me fromparadise?--but _you_ don't remember. "

"But, Mr. De Burgh, I did not drive you away. You got bored, and wentaway of your own free-will. "

"I shall not argue the point with you--not now; but tell me, " with avery steady gaze into her eyes, "has anything happened since I left towaken up your soul? It was by no means asleep when I saw you last, butit has met with an eye-opener of some kind, I am convinced. "

"I should not have given you credit for so much imagination, Mr. DeBurgh. "

Here Miss Payne made her appearance, and the boys followed. They weretreated with unusual good-humor and _bonhomie_ by De Burgh, who actuallytook Charlie on his knee and asked him some questions about boating, which occupied them till lunch was announced. 

Miss Payne was too much accustomed to yield to circumstances not toaccept De Burgh's attempts to be amiable and agreeable. He could beamusing when he chose; there was an odd abruptness, a candid avowal ofhis views and opinions, when he was in the mood, that attractedKatherine. 

"You _are_ a funny man!" said Cecil, after gazing at him in silence ashe finished his repast. "I wish you would come out in the boat with us. Auntie said we might go. "

"Very well; ask her if I may come. "

"He may, mayn't he?"--chorus from both boys. 

"Yes, if you really care to come: but do not let the children teaseyou. "

"Do you give me credit for being ready to do what I don't like?"

"I can't say I do. "

"When do you start on this expedition?"

"About seven, which will interfere with your dinner, for Miss Payne andI have adopted primitive habits, and do not dine late; we indulge inhigh tea instead. "

"Nevertheless, I shall meet you at the jetty. Till then adieu. "

"May we come with you?" cried the boys together--"just as far as thehotel?"

"No, dears; you must stay at home, " said Katherine, decidedly. 

"Then do let him come and see how the puppy is. He has grown quite big. "

"Yes, I'll come round to the kennel if you'll show me the way, " repliedDe Burgh, with a smiling glance at Katherine. "Till this evening, then, "he added, and bowing to Miss Payne, left the room, the boys caperingbeside him. 

"I should say that man has breakfasted on honey this morning, " observedMiss Payne, with a sardonic smile. "Does he think that he has only tocome, to see, and to conquer?"

"He has been quite pleasant, " said Katherine. "I wonder why he is notalways nice? He used to be almost rude at Castleford sometimes. " Shepaused, while Miss Payne rose from the table and began to lock away thewine. "I wonder what has become of Mr. Payne? He has not been here for along time. "

"What made you think of him?" asked his sister, sharply. 

"I suppose the force of contrast reminded me of him. What a differencebetween Bertie and Mr. De Burgh!--your brother living only to helpothers, and utterly forgetful of self; he regardless of everything butthe gratification of his own fancies--at least so far as we can see. "

"Yes; Mr. De Burgh can hardly be termed a true Christian. Still, Gilbertis rather too weak and credulous. I suspect he is very often taken in. "

"Is it not better he should be sometimes, dear Miss Payne, than thatsome poor deserving creature should perish for want of help?"

"Well, I don't know. Self-preservation is the first law of nature, andif that law were more carefully obeyed, fewer would need help. "

"Life is an unsolvable problem, " said Katherine, and the remark remindedher of her humble friend Rachel. She therefore sat down and wrote her akind, sympathetic letter, feeling some compunction for having allowed solong an interval to elapse since her last. 

Her own troubles had occupied her too much. Now that time was beginningto accustom her to their weight, her deep interest in Rachel revivedeven with more than its original force. Katherine did not make intimatesreadily. Let there be ever so small a nook in the mind, ever so tiny anincident in the past, which must be hidden from all eyes, and there canbe no free pass for outsiders, however dear or valued, to the sanctum ofthe heart, which must remain sealed, a whispering gallery for its ownmemories and aspirations. But Rachel Trant never dreamed of receivingconfidence, nor, after once having strung herself up to tell her sadstory, did she allude to her bitter past, save by an occasional wordexpressing her profound sense of the new life she owed to Katherine; nordid the latter, when talking with her face to face, ever realize thatthere was any social difference between them. Rachel's voice, manner, diction, and natural refinement were what might be expected from agentlewoman, only that through all sounded a strain of harsh strength, the echo of that fierce despair from whose grip the tender considerationof her new friend had delivered her. The evening's sail was verytranquil and soothing. De Burgh was agreeable in the best way; that is, he was sympathetically silent, except when Katherine spoke to him. Theboys and their governess sat together in the bow of the boat, where theytalked merrily together, occasionally running aft to ask more profoundquestions of De Burgh and auntie. Fear of rheumatism and discomfortgenerally kept Miss Payne at home on these occasions. 

De Burgh walked with Miss Liddell to her own door, but wisely refused toenter. "No, " he mused, as he proceeded to his hotel; "I have had enoughof a _solitude a trois_. It's an uncomfortable, tantalizing thing, andthough I have been positively angelic for the last seven or eight hours, I can't stand any more intercourse under Miss Payne's paralyzing optics. I wonder if any fellow can keep up a heavenly calm for more thantwenty-four hours? Depends on the circulation of the blood. I wonderstill more if it is possible that Katherine is more disposed to like methan she was? She is somehow different than when I was here last. Sodivinely soft and kind! I have known a score or two of fascinatingwomen, and gone wild about a good many, but _this_ is different, why thedeuce should she _not_ love me? Most of the others did. Why? God knows. I'll try my luck; she seems in a propitious mood. "

CHAPTER XXI. 

"NO. "

Next morning's post brought a letter from Bertie, which was a kind ofcomplement to Katherine's reflections of the night before. Afterexplaining that he had hitherto been unable to take a holiday from hisvarious avocations, he promised to spend the following week with hissister and Miss Liddell. He then described the success of Mrs. Needham'sbazar, and proceeded thus:

"Meeting my old friend Mrs. Dodd a few days ago, I was sorry to findfrom her that your favorite, Rachel Trant, had been very unwell. She hadhad a great deal of work, thanks to your kind efforts on her behalf, andsat at it early and late; then she took cold. I went to see her, andfound her in a state of extreme depression, like that from which yousucceeded in rousing her. I think it would be well if she could have alittle change. Are there any cheap, humble lodgings at Sandbourne, whereshe might pass a week or two? I shall pass this matter in your hands. "

"I am sure old Norris's wife would take her in. They have a nicecottage, almost on the beach, close to the point. "

"No doubt. Really that Rachel of yours is in great luck. I wonder howmany poor girls in London are dying for a breath of sea-air?"

"Ah, hundreds, I fear. But then, you see, they have not been broughtunder my notice, and Rachel has; so I will do the best I can for her. Iam sure she is no common woman. "

"At all events she has no common luck. "

Katherine lost no time in visiting Mrs. Norris, and found that she wasin the habit of letting a large, low, but comfortable room upstairs, where the bed was gorgeous with a patchwork quilt of many colors, andpermitting her lodgers to dine in a small parlor, which was her ownsitting-room. 

The old woman had not had any "chance" that season, as she termed it, and gladly agreed to take the young person recommended by her husband'sliberal employer. So Katherine walked back to write both to Bertie andtheir _protegee_. 

During her absence De Burgh had called, but left no message. AndKatherine felt a little sorry to have missed him, as she thought itprobable he would go on to town that afternoon, and she wanted to hearsome tidings of Errington, yet could hardly nerve herself to ask. 

The evening was gloriously fine, and as Miss Payne did not like boating, the pony-carriage was given up to her, the boys, and Miss North thegoverness, for a long drive to a farm-house where the boys enjoyedrambling about, and Miss Payne bought new-laid eggs. 

When they had set out, Katherine took a white woolen shawl over herarm--for even in July the breeze was sometimes chill at sundown--andstrolled along the road, or rather cart track, which led between thecliffs and the sea to the boatman's cottage. She passed this, noddingpleasantly to the sturdy old man, who was busy in his cabbage garden, and pursued a path which led as far as a footing could be found, towhere the sea washed against the point. It was a favorite spot withKatherine, who was tolerably sure of being undisturbed here. The viewacross the bay was tranquilly beautiful; the older part of Sandbourneonly, with the pretty old inn, was visible from her rocky seat among thebowlders and debris which had fallen from above, while the old tower atthe opposite point of the bay stood out black and solid against theflood of golden light behind it. She sat there very still, enjoying theair, the scene, the sweet salt breath of the sea, thinking intently ofRachel Trant's experience, of her fatal weakness, of the unpityingseverity of that rule of law under which we social atoms areconstrained to live; of the evident fact that were we but wise and goodwe might always be the beneficent arbiters of our own fate; that thereare few pleasures which have not their price; and after all, though she, Katherine, had paid high for hers, it had not cost too much, consideringshe had been groping in the dimness of imperfect knowledge. Oh, hew shewished she had never attempted to act providence to her mother andherself, but trusted to Errington's sense of generosity and justice! Ofcourse it would have been humiliating to beg from a stranger, yet beforethat stranger she had been compelled to lower herself to the dust, and--

The unwonted sound of approaching feet startled her. She turned, to seeDe Burgh within speaking distance. "I am like Robinson Crusoe in mysolitude here, " she said, smiling. "I turn pale at the sound of anunexpected step, as he did at the print of Friday's foot. "

"And to continue the smile, " he returned, leaning against a rock nearher, "the footprint or step, as in Crusoe's case, only announces theadvent of a devoted slave. " He spoke lightly, and Katherine scarcenoticed what seemed to her an idle compliment. 

"I fancied you had gone to town, " she said. 

"No; I am not going to town; I don't know or care where I am going. Somekind friends might say I am on my way to the dogs. "

"I hope not, " said Katherine, gravely. "I imagine, Mr. De Burgh, that ifyou had some object of ambition--"

"I should become an Admirable Crichton? I don't think so. There are suchdreary pauses in the current of all careers!"

"Of course. You would not live in a tornado!"

"I am not so sure"--laughing. "At all events I shall never be satisfiedwith still life like our friend Errington. "

"Do you know anything of him? Mrs. Ormonde never mentions his name. "

"Of course not; when a fellow can't keep pace with his peers, away withhim, crucify him. "

"As long as a few special friends are true----"

"If they are, " interrupted De Burgh; and Katherine did not resume, hoping he would continue the theme, which he did, saying: "He has lefthis big house, gone into chambers somewhere, and has I believe, taken upliterature, politics, and social subjects. So Lady Mary Vincent says. Ifancy he is a clever fellow in a cast-iron style. "

"What a change for him!"

"I believe there was something coming to him out of the wreck, and Ithink he is a sort of man who will float. I never liked him myself, chiefly, I fancy, because I know he doesn't like me. Indeed, I don'tcare for people in general. " There was a pause, during which Katherineglanced at her companion, and was struck by his sombre expression, thestern compression of his lips. 

"Did you call at the cottage?" she asked. 

"No; you were out this morning, and I did not like to intrude again, " helaughed. "Growing modest in my sere and yellow days, you see; so Ithought I should perhaps find you here, as I saw your numerous partydrive past the hotel. "

"I like this corner, and often come here. But, Mr. De Burgh, you look asif the times were out of joint. "

"So they are"--suddenly seating himself on a flat stone nearly atKatherine's feet, leaning his elbow on another, and resting his head onhis hand, so as to look up easily in her face. 

"What gloomy dark eyes he has!" she thought. 

"I should like to tell you why, " he went on. 

"Very well, " returned Katherine, who felt a little uneasy. 

"I am pretty considerably in debt, to begin with. If I paid up I shouldhave about three half-pence a year to live on. Besides my debts I havean unconscionably ancient relative whose title and a beggarly fivethousand a year must come to me when he dies, if he ever dies. Thisvenerable impediment has some hundred or more thousands which he canbequeath to whom he likes. Hitherto he has not considered me a credit tothe family. Well, I went to him the other day, on his own invitation, and to my amazement he offered to pay my debts--on one condition. "

"I do hope he will, " cried Katherine, as De Burgh paused. She was quiteinterested and relieved by the tone of his narrative. 

"Ay, but there's the rub. I can't fulfil the condition, I fear. It isthat I should marry a woman rich enough to replace the money my debtswill absorb; a particular woman who doesn't care for me, and whom, knowing the hideous tangle of motives that hangs round the central ideaof winning her, I am almost ashamed to ask; but a woman that any manmight court; a woman I have loved from the first moment my eyes methers, who has haunted and distracted me ever since, and who is, I daresay, a great deal too good for me; but a creature I will strive to win, no matter what the cost of success. This girl or rather (for there is arichness and ripeness of nature about her which deserves the term) thisfair, sweet woman--I need not name her to you. " He stopped, and hispassionate pleading eyes held hers. Katherine grew white, half withfear, half with sincere compassion. She tried to speak. At last thewords came. 

"You make me terribly sad, Mr. De Burgh, " she said, with trembling lips. "You make me _so_ sorry that I cannot marry you; but I cannot--indeed Icannot. Will Lord De Burgh not pay your debts if he knows you have doneyour best to persuade me to marry you?"

De Burgh laughed a cynical laugh. "You are infinitely practical, Katherine. (I am going to call you Katherine for the next few minutes. Because I think of you as Katherine, I love to speak your name toyourself; it seems to bring me a little nearer to you. ) Listen to me. Don't you think you could endure me as a husband? I am a better fellowthan I seem, and mine is no foolish boy's fancy. I am a better man whenI am near you. Then this old cousin of mine will leave me all hepossesses if you are my wife, and the Baroness de Burgh, with moneyenough to keep her place among her peers, would have no mean position;nor is a husband passionately devoted to you unworthy ofconsideration. "

"It is not indeed. But, Mr. De Burgh, do you honestly think thatdevotion would last? These violent feelings often work their owndestruction. "

"Ay: God knows they do, amazingly fast, " he returned, with a sigh and afar-away look. "But what you say applies to all men. If you ever marryyou must run the risk of inconstancy in the man you accept. I am atleast old enough and experienced enough to value a good woman when Ihave found one, especially when she does not make her goodness a bore. And you--you have inspired me with something different from anything Ihave ever felt before. Yes, yes, " he went on, angrily, as he noticed aslight smile on her lips. "I see you try to treat this as only thestereotype talk of a lover who wants your money more than yourself; butif you listen to the judgment of your own heart, it is true and honestenough to recognize truth in another, and it will tell you that, whatever my faults (and they are legion), sneaking and duplicity are notamong them. It is quite true that when first I heard of you I thoughtyour fortune would be just the thing to put me right, as I have no doubtmy dear friend Mrs. Ormonde has impressed upon you, but from the momentI first spoke to you I felt, I knew, there was something about youdifferent from other women. I also knew that in the effort to win theheiress I was heavily handicapped by the sudden strong passion for thewoman which seized me. "

"That surely ought to have been a means of success?" said Katherine, agood deal interested in his account of himself. 

"No: it made me, for the first time in my life, hesitating, self-distrustful, and awfully disgusted at having to take your moneyinto consideration. Had you been an ordinary woman, ready to exchangeyour fortune for the social position I could give my wife, and perhapswith a certain degree of liking for the kind of free-lance reputation Iam told I possess, I should have carried my point, and presented thefuture Baroness de Burgh to my venerable kinsman months ago. "

"And suppose the unfortunate heiress had been a soft-hearted, simplegirl?" said Katherine, with a slight faltering in her tones. "Supposeshe were credulous, loving, attracted by you--you are probablyattractive to some women--and married you believing in yourdisinterested affection?"

De Burgh, who had risen from half-recumbent position, and stood leaningagainst a larger fragment of rock, paused before he replied: "I thinkthat I am a gentleman enough not to be a brute, but I rather believe awoman of the type you describe would not have a blissful existence withme. "

"I am sure of it. You are quite capable of making the life of such awoman too dreadful to think of. " She shuddered slightly. 

De Burgh looked curiously at her. "If you will have the goodness toundertake my punishment, " he said, "by marrying me without love, andletting me prove how earnestly I could serve you and strive to win it, I'll strike the bargain this moment. I have been reckless andunfortunate. Now give me a chance; for I _do_ love you, Katherine. I'dlove you if you were the humblest of undowered women. "

The tears stood in her eyes, for the passion and feeling in his voicestruck home to her. 

"I believe it, " she said, softly, "and I am almost sorry I cannot loveyou. But I do not, nor do I think I ever could. You will find othersquite as likely to draw forth your affection as I am. But there are somenatural barriers of disposition, and--oh, I cannot define what--whichhold us apart. Yet I am interested in you, and would like to know youwere happy. Yet, Mr. De Burgh, I must not sacrifice my life to you. If Idid, the result might not be satisfactory even to yourself. "

"Sacrifice your life! What an unflattering expression!" cried De Burgh, with a hard laugh. "So there is no hope for me?"

Katherine shook her head. 

"I felt there was but little when I began, " he said, as if to himself. "Tell me, are you free? Has some more fortunate fellow than myselftouched that impregnable heart of yours? I know I have no right to asksuch a question. "

"You have not indeed, Mr. De Burgh. And if I could not with truth say'no, ' I should be vexed with you for asking it. Weighted as I am withmoney enough to excite the greed of ordinary struggling men, I shall notbe in a hurry to renounce my comfortable independence. "

De Burgh's eyes again held hers with a look of entreaty. "Thatindependence will last just as long as your heart escapes the influenceof the man whom you will love one day; for though love lies sleeping, itis in you, and will spring to life some time, all the stronger and moreirresistible because his birth has not come early. _Then_ you will feelmore for _me_ than you do now. "

"I do feel for you, Mr. De Burgh"--raising her moist eyes to his. 

"Thank you"--taking her hand and kissing it. "Will you, then be myfriend, and promise not to banish me? I'll be sensible, and give you notrouble. "

"Oh yes, certainly, " said Katherine, glad to be able to comfort him inany way; and she withdrew her hand. 

"I am not going to worry you with my presence now, " he continued. "Ishall say good-by for the present. I am going away north. I have entereda horse for a big steeple-chase at Barton Towers, and will ride himmyself. If I win I can hold out awhile longer. You must wish mesuccess. "

"I am sure I do, heartily. After this, _do_ give up racing. "

"Very well. But"--pressing her hand hard--"I'll tell you what I will_not_ give up, my hope of winning _you_, until you are married to someone else and out of my reach. "

He kissed her hand again, and then, without any further adieu, turnedaway, walking with long swift steps toward the town, not once lookingback. 

"Thank God he is gone!" was Katherine's mental exclamation as the soundof his foot-fall died away. She was troubled by his intensity anddetermination, and touched by his unmistakable sincerity. "If I lovedhim I should not be afraid to marry him. I think he might possibly makea good husband to a woman he was really attached to; but I have not theleast spark of affection for him, though there is something verydistinguished in his figure and bearing; even his ruggedness isperfectly free from vulgarity. Yes, he is a sort of man who mightfascinate some women; but he is terribly wrong-headed. If he keepshoping on until I marry, he has a long spell of celibacy before him. Idare say he will be married himself before two years are over. "

She sat awhile longer thinking, her face growing softer and sadder. Thenshe rose, wrapped her shawl round her, and walked slowly back to thecottage, where she found the rest of the party just returned, joyous andhungry. 

Bertie came down late on the following Saturday, and brought a note fromRachel Trant to Katherine, accepting her offer of quarters at Sandbournewith grateful readiness. Katherine was always pleased with her letters;they expressed so much in a few words; a spirit of affectionategratitude breathed through their quiet diction. 

Katherine was very glad to receive it, for Bertie's accounts of their_protegee_ made her uneasy. She had at first refused to move, saying itwas really of no use spending money upon her, and seemed to be sinkingback into the lethargic condition from which Katherine had woke her. 

Her kind protectress therefore set off early on Monday to tell Mrs. Norris she was coming, and to make her room look pretty and cheerful. Byher orders the boatman's son was despatched to meet their expectedtenant on her arrival. Miss Payne having arranged a picnic for that day, at which Katherine's company could not be dispensed with. 

When they returned it was already evening; still Katherine could notrefrain from visiting her friend. "She will be so strange and lonelywith people she has never seen before, " she said to Bertie. "As soon astea is over I shall go and see her. "

"It will be rather late, yet it will be a great kindness. I will go withyou, and wait for you among the rocks on the beach. "

Miss Payne expressed her opinion that it was unwise to set beggars onhorseback, but offered no further opposition. 

The sun had not quite sunk as Katherine and her companion walkedleisurely by the road which skirted the beach toward the boatman'sdwelling. 

"I wish we could find some occupation that could so fill Rachel Trant'smind as to prevent these dreadful fits of depression, " began Katherine. 

"She had plenty of work, and seemed successful in her performance ofit, " he returned; "but it does not seem to have kept her from arecurrence of these morbid moods. Loneliness does not appear to suither. "

"Sitting from morning till night, unremittingly at work, in silence, alone with memories which must be very sad, is not the best method ofrecovering cheerfulness, and unfortunately, Rachel is too much above herstation to make many friends in it. She wants movement as well as work, "remarked Katherine. 

"As you consider her so good a dressmaker, it might be well to establishher on a larger scale, and give her some of the older girls from ourHome as apprentices. Looking after and teaching them would amuse as wellas occupy her. "

"It is an idea worth developing!" exclaimed Katherine; and they walkedon a few paces in silence. 

"So De Burgh has been paying you a visit?" said Bertie at length. 

"He has been paying Sandbourne a visit. He did not stay with us. "

"It is wonderful that he could tame his energies even to stay here a fewdays. "

"He was here only two days the last time. "

"_You_ cannot have much in common with such a man. "

"Not much, certainly; still, he interests me. He has had such a narrowescape of being a _good_ man. "

"Narrow escape! I should say he never was in much danger of _that_destiny. "

"Perhaps if the door of every heart were opened to us we should see moregood in all than we could expect. " A few words more brought them to theboatman's house, where they parted. 

Miss Trant was at home, Mrs. Norris said. Katherine ascended the steepladder-like stair, and having knocked at the door, entered the room. Rachel was seated in the window, which was wide open. Her elbows restedon a small table, and her chin on her clasped hands, while her largeblue eyes looked steadily out over the bay, which slept blue andpeaceful below; the lines of her slightly bent figure looked gracefuland refined, but there was infinite sadness in her pose. 

"I am very glad to see you again, " said Katherine. Rachel, who was toodeep in thought to hear her enter, started up to clasp her offered hand. Her pale thin face was lit with pleasure, and her grave, almost sterneyes softened. 

"And so am I. You do not know _how_ glad. Do you know, I began to thinkI never should see you again, " and she kissed the hand she held. 

"Do not!" said Katherine, bending forward to kiss her brow. "Were you soill, then?"

"Not physically ill, except for my cough; but for all that I felt dying, and really I often wonder why you try to keep me alive. I am a troubleto you, and I do very little good. Had I not been a coward I should haveleft the world, where I have no particular place, long ago. "

"Well, you see, I have a sort of superstition that life is a goodly giftwhich must not be cast aside for a whim; and why should you despair offinding peace? There is so much that is delightful in life!"

"And so much that is tragic!"

"Ah, yes! but if we only seek for the sorrowful we destroy our ownlives, without helping any one. You must let the dead past bury itsdead. "

"How if the dead past comes and crosses your path, and looks you in theface?"

"What do you mean, Rachel?"

"You will think me weak and contemptible, but I must confess to you thecause of my late prostration. "

"Yes, do; it may be a relief. "

"About a month ago, " said Rachel, sitting down by the table oppositeKatherine, and again resting her elbow on it, while she half hid herface by placing her open hand over her eyes, "I was walking to Mrs. Needham's with some work I had finished, when, turning into LowndesSquare, I came face to face with--him. It is true I had a thick veil on, and my large parcel must have partially disguised me, but he did notrecognize me. He passed me with the most unconscious composure, and hewas looking better, brighter, than I had ever seen him. The sight of himbrought back all the torturing pangs of helpless sorrow for thesweetness, the intense happiness I can never know again; the stingingshame, the poison of crushed hopes, the profound contempt for myself, the sense of being of no value to any one on earth. I think if I couldhave spoken to _you_, I might have shaken off these fiends of thought;but I was alone, always alone: why should I live?"

"Rachel, you _must_ put this cruel man out of your mind. He has been thedestroyer of your life. Try and cast the idea of the past from you. Lifeis too abundant to be exhausted by one sorrow. You have years before youin which to build up a new existence and find consolation. I will notlisten to another word about your former life; let us only look forward. I have a plan for you--at least Mr. Payne has suggested the idea--inwhich you can help us and others, and which will need all your time andenergy. But I will not even talk of this business. We must try lighterand pleasanter topics. Not another word about by-gone days will I speak. You have started afresh under my auspices, and I mean you to float. Nowthat you are here, Rachel, you must read amusing books, and be out inthe open air all day. You will be a new creature in a week. You mustcome and see my cottage and my nephews; they are dear little fellows. Are you fond of children?"

"I don't think I am. I never had anything to do with them. But I wouldrather not go to your house, dear Miss Liddell. I feel as if I could notbrave Miss Payne's eyes. "

"That is mere morbidness. There is no reason why you should fear anyone. You must discount your future rights. A few years hence, when youare a new woman, you will, I am sure, look back with wonder and pity asif reading the memoir of another. I _know_ that spells ofself-forgiveness come to us mercifully. "

"When I listen to you, and hear in the tones of your voice more eventhan in your words that you are my friend, that you really care for me, that it will be a real joy to you to see me rise above myself, I feelthat I can live and strive and be something more than a galvanizedcorpse. You give me strength. I wonder if I shall ever be able to proveto you what you have done for me. Stand by me, and I _will_ try to putthe past under my feet. I do not wish to presume on the great goodnessyou have shown me nor to forget the difference between us socially, butoh! let me believe you love me--even me--with the kindly affection thatcan forgive even while it blames. "

"Be assured of that, Rachel, " cried Katherine, her eyes moist andbeautiful with the divine light of kindness and sympathy, as shestretched out her hand to clasp Rachel's. "I have from the first beendrawn to you strangely--it is something instinctive--and I have firmbelief in your future, if you will but believe in yourself. You are astrong, brave woman, who can dare to look truth in the face. You will beuseful and successful yet. "

Rachel held her hand tightly for a minute in silence; then she said, ina low but firm voice: "I will try to realize your belief. I should betoo unworthy if I failed to do my very best. There! I have discarded thepast; you shall hear of it no more. "

They were silent for a while; then a solemn old eight-day clock with afine tone struck loudly and deliberatedly in the room below. Katherine, with a smile, counted each stroke. "Nine!" she exclaimed, when the lasthad sounded; "and though it is 9 P. M. , let it be the first hour of yournew life. " She rose, and passing her arm over Rachel's shoulder, kissedher once more with sisterly warmth. "Mr. Payne is waiting for me, so Imust leave you. I have sent you some books; I have but few here. Onewill amuse you, I am sure, though it is old enough--a translation of the_Memoirs of Madam d'Abrantes_. It is full of such quaint pictures of thegreat Napoleon's court, and does not display much dignity or nobility, yet it is an honest sort of book. "

"Thank you. I don't want novels now; they generally pain me. But mygreatest solace is to forget myself in a book. "

Bertie Payne's visit was a very happy one. The boys adored him, andsubjects of discussion and difference of opinion never failed betweenKatherine and himself. She consulted him as to what school would be bestfor Cecil, and he advised that he should be left as a boarder at the onewhich he now attended, and where he had made fair progress, when MissPayne and Katherine returned to town. 

Bertie looked a new man when he bade them good-by, promising to comeagain soon. 

Beyond sending a newspaper which recorded his victory in the BartonTowers steeple-chase De Burgh made no sign, and life ran smoothly in itsordinary grooves at Sandbourne. 

Rachel Trant revived marvellously. The change of scene, the freshsalt-air, above all the society of Katherine, who frequently visited andwalked with her, all combined to give her new life--even emboldening herto look at the future. Her manner, always grave and respectful, wonreluctant approval from Miss Payne. And the boys were always pleased torun to the boatman's cottage with flowers or fruit, and talk to, orrather question, their new friend. Rachel seemed always glad to seethem, though she evidently shrank from returning their visits. She wasnever quite herself, or off guard, except when alone with Katherine. Then she spoke out of her heart, and uttered thoughts and opinions whichoften surprised Katherine, and set her thinking more seriously than shehad ever done before. Finally, hearing from her good old landlady thatsome of her customers had returned to town and were inquiring for her, Rachel said it was time her holiday came to an end. 

"I feel now that I can bear to live and try to be independent. Indeedmy life is yours; you have given it back to me, and I will yet prove toyou that I am not unworthy of your wonderful generosity, " she said, themorning of the day she was to start for London, as she sat withKatherine among the rocks at the point. "The idea of an establishmentsuch as Mr. Payne suggests is excellent. It ought to be your property, and good property--I need only be your steward--while it may be of greatuse to others. "

"I feel quite impatient to carry out the project, and we will set aboutit as soon as I return to town, " returned Katherine. 

"Will you write to me sometimes?" asked Rachel, humbly. "I feel as if Idare not let you go: all of hope or promise that can come into mywrecked life centres in you. While you are my friend I can face theworld. "

"Yes, Rachel, write to me as often as you like, and I will answer yourletters. Trust me: I will always be your true friend. "

CHAPTER XXII. 

"WARP AND WOOF. "

When the rough weather of a stormy autumn obliged Katherine to keepin-doors she began to feel the monotony of existence by the sad seawaves, and to wish for the sociability of London. The end of October, then, saw Miss Payne and party re-established in Wilton Street, havingleft Cecil at school. With Charlie, Katherine could not part just yet. She intended to keep him till after Christmas, when he was to go toschool with his brother. 

Though town was empty as regarded "society, " there was plenty of lifeand movement in the streets, and Katherine, always thankful foroccupation which drew her thoughts away from her profound regret for thebarrier which existed between Errington and herself, was glad to be backin the great capital. She threw herself into the scheme of establishingRachel Trant as a "court dressmaker" most heartily, and Bertie Paynespared time from his multifarious avocations to give importantassistance. Rachel herself, too, proved to be a wise counsellor, herprevious training having given her some experience in business. Katherine therefore found interesting employment in looking for a smallhouse suited to the undertaking. 

Mr. Newton was writing busily in his private room one foggy afternoonwhen he was informed that Miss Liddell wished to speak to him. 

"Show her in at once, " he said, cheerfully, as if pleased, and he roseto receive her. "Glad to see you, Miss Liddell, looking all the betterfor your sojourn by the sea-side. Why, it must be nearly six monthssince I saw you. "

"Yes, quite six months, Mr. Newton. I suppose you have been refreshingyourself too, after the fatigues of the season. You must try Sandbournenext year. It is a very nice little place. "

"Sandbourne? I don't think I know it. But now what do you want, my dearyoung lady? I don't suppose you come here merely for pleasure. "

"I assure you it always gives me great pleasure, " said Katherine, with asweet, sunny smile. "You have always been my very good friend. "

"Well, a sincere one, at all events, " returned the dry old lawyer, whosearidity was not proof against the charm of his young client. 

"I must not waste your time, " she resumed, drawing her chair a littlenearer the table behind which he was ensconced. "I want to buy a housewhich I have seen, and I want you to attend to all details connectedwith it. "

"Oh--ah! Well, a good house would not be a bad investment; it would bevery convenient to have a residence in London. "

"It is not for myself; it is a speculation. "

"A speculation? What put that into your head?"

Whereupon Katherine told him her story. 

"I think it rather a mad undertaking, " was Mr. Newton's verdict. "Theseprojects seldom succeed. I don't care for clever interesting young womenwho have no one belonging to them and cannot corroborate their stories. How do you know she was not dismissed from Blackie & Co. 's for theft?"

Katherine laughed. "I certainly do not know, " she said, "but I _feel_ itis quite as impossible for her to steal as it is for myself. "

"Feel!--feel!" (impatiently). "Just so: impostors thrive on the goodfeelings of--of the simple. "

"You were going to say fools, " said Katherine. "Don't let us waste time, my dear Mr. Newton, " she went on, with good-humored decision. "We shallnever agree on such a topic; and I am going to buy this house, oranother of the same kind if this proves not to be desirable; and Ishould be very sorry to employ any one but you to arrange the purchase. "

"Oh, you know your own mind, and how to threaten--eh, Miss Liddell?" hereturned, with a smile. "I must know more about the tenement before Ican consent to act for you. "

"It is an ordinary three-storied house, with a couple of rooms built outat the back, in a small street where there are a few shops; but it isnear Westbourne Terrace, and therefore in a region of good customers. The late owner has been succeeded by a son, who seems very anxious toget rid of it. The price asked is seven hundred and fifty pounds, and Ibelieve the taxes are under ten pounds. Do, dear Mr. Newton, look intothe matter, and get it settled as soon as possible, and on the bestterms you can. "

"Hum! and the furniture? Do you undertake that too?"

"Of course. Don't you see, I can do it all out of the money I have notbeen able to use. There is quite three thousand pounds on deposit in thebank. You know you wrote to me only a month ago about letting the moneylie idle. I shall employ it now, for my _protegee_, Miss Trant, will bemy only manager. I will pay her wages, and whatever profit after comesto me. "

"A very unknown quantity, " said the lawyer, drily. "Still, the housecan't run away, and I suppose will aways let for fifty or sixty pounds ayear. "

"Fifty, I think. "

"Then I will look into the matter. Is it in habitable repair?"

"It seems so. Do your best to have the purchase completed as soon aspossible, dear Mr. Newton. I want to start my modiste in good time tocatch the home-coming people. "

"Believe me, it is an unwise project, " said Newton, thoughtfully. 

"I know you think so, and you are right to counsel me according to yourconscience; but as I am quite determined, you must not let me go to astranger for help. "

"Very well; give me the address. "

"Seven Malden Street, Paddington. Bell & Co. , house agents, in HarrowRoad, have it on their books. "

"Good! I'll get a surveyor to see to sanitary arrangements, etc. Nowthat, as usual, you have conquered again and again, tell me something ofyourself. Are you tired of the little nephews yet?"

"No, indeed. I have been happier with them than I dared hope to be whenI was left alone nearly a year ago, yet"--Her voice faltered and hersoft dark eyes filled. 

"Yes, yes, " hastily, with a man's dread of tears; "you couldn't get overthat all at once. But you know it is a very Quixotic business takingthose boys; and Mrs. Ormonde is not the woman to relieve you should anydifficulty arise. "

"But when boys are well provided for there never can be a difficulty. Ah, Mr. Newton, what a wonderful magician money is! What would become ofme without it? It is almost worth risking anything to get it. "

"Or, apparently, to get rid of it, " remarked Mr. Newton. "By-the-way, that was a tremendous smash of Errington's. Did you hear anything abouthim?"

"Yes, " rather faintly. 

"The reason I mention him is that, curiously enough, _he_ was the manyour uncle left everything to in that will he very fortunatelydestroyed. Of course I should only mention it to you: though now all ispassed and gone, it is of no importance. He has behaved very well. I amtold he has turned to literature. It's a pity he did not follow hisprofession; but it would be rather late in the day for that. I think youmust find these rooms rather stuffy and warm after the sea-breezes, foryou are looking pale and fagged again. "

"I feel a headache coming on, " said Katherine, pulling herself together. "I hope you will pay me a visit someday. I should like to show you mydear little Charlie. He has a great look of my mother, especially hiseyes; they are _just_ like hers. "

"If you will allow me to come some Sunday----"

"Certainly. You will sympathise with Miss Payne. She shares yourdeep-rooted distrust of your fellow-creatures. Yet even _she_ has somefaint faith in Rachel Trant. "

"That is the best symptom about the affair I have yet heard of. By-the-bye, this Miss Payne has made you comfortable? she has been asuccessful experiment?"

"Very successful indeed. I quite like her, and respect her; but I shallnot stay longer than the time I agreed for. I want to make a home forthe boys and myself. "

"What! Will Mrs. Ormonde give them up?"

"Not avowedly, but they will ultimately glide into my hands. "

"I trust you will not regret the charge you are taking on yourself. "

"I do not fear failure. These children are a great source of pleasure tome. "

A few more words, a promise on Mr. Newton's part to hurry matters, andKatherine, bidding him adieu for the present, descended to the broughamwhich she usually hired for distant expeditions. Ordering the coachmanto stop at Howell& James', Katherine leaned back and reflected on theinterview with Mr. Newton. No doubt he thought he had given her a gooddeal of curious information. If he only knew what a living lie she was!Her duplicity met her at every turn, and cried shame upon her. However, she had the pardon and permission of him against whom she had chieflyoffended; that counted for much. Still, it was too hard a punishmentthat the ghost of her transgression should thus cry out against her, andshe had done her best to rectify it. She felt profoundly depressed. Itwas an effort to execute the commissions intrusted to her by Miss Payne. These performed, she was leaving the shop, when a gentleman who waspassing rapidly almost ran against her. He paused and raised his hat asif to apologize. It was Errington. 

"Miss Liddell!" he exclaimed, a startled, pleased look animating hiseyes. "I understood you were out of town. I hardly hoped to meet youagain. "

Katherine flushed up, and then grew white. "I have been out of town eversince--" Since what?--that turning-point in her life when she confessedall to him?

"And I have been _in_ town, " rejoined Errington. "It is not nearly sobad as some people imagine. Where are you staying?"

"Oh, I am always with Miss Payne, in Wilton Street. "

"I remember. But I am keeping you standing. May I come and see you?"

"Oh no; I would rather not, " cried Katherine, with an irresistibleimpulse which she regretted the next moment. 

"You are always frank, " said Errington, with a kind smile, yet in adisappointed tone. "I will not intrude, then. How are your nephews, andMrs. Ormonde? I seem to have lost sight of every one, for I have becomea very busy man. "

"Yes, I know, " she returned, her color going and coming, her heartbeating so fast she could hardly speak. "I must seem so rude! But I haveread some of your papers in _The Age_. It must, indeed, take time andstudy to produce such articles. "

"And patience on the part of a young lady to wade through them. "

"No; they always interest me, even when a little over my head. Though Ido not want you to come and see me, I am always so glad to hear aboutyou, to know you are well. "

"Then why avoid me?"

"How can I help it?"--looking at him with dewy eyes and quivering lips. 

"Well, I must accept your decision. I wish--But I will not detain you. "He opened the carriage door and handed her in. 

For an instant her eyes sought his with a wistful, deprecating look, then she said, "Tell him 'home, ' please, " and she drove off. 

The encounter unhinged her for the day. Why had he crossed her path, andwhy had she allowed herself to reject his friendly offer to come and seeher? Yet it would have made her miserable to bear the quiet scrutiny ofhis eyes through a whole visit. He had evidently quite forgiven her, butthat could not restore her self-respect or render her less keenly aliveto the silent reproach of his presence. And yet it was pleasant to hearhim speak, his voice was so clear, so well modulated, so intelligent. And how well he looked!--better and brighter than she had ever seen him. It was evident that he was not breaking his heart about Lady Alice. Howcould she have given him up?

Though nothing was more natural or probable than that they should meetwhen both lived in the same town, huge as it is, it was an immensesurprise to Katherine, who had somehow come to the conclusion that theywere never to set eyes on each other again. This impression upset her. She was constantly on the outlook for Errington wherever she drove orwalked, and the composure which she had been diligently, and with a sortof sad resignation to Errington's wishes, building up, was replaced by afeverish, restless anticipation of she knew not what. 

The result was increased eagerness to see the completion of herdressmaking scheme, and she made Mr. Newton's life a burden to him tillall was accomplished. 

In this she found a shrewd assistant in Mrs. Needham, who took up thecause furiously, and drove hither and thither, exhorting, entreating, commanding, and really bringing in customers, somewhat to Katherine'ssurprise, as she did not expect much wool from so great a cry. 

Shortly before Christmas Miss Trant's establishment was in full workingorder, a couple of clever assistants had been engaged, and Rachelherself seemed to wake up to the full energy of her nature under thespur of responsibility. 

The affair was not brought to a conclusion, however, without a struggleon the part of Mr. Newton against Katherine's resolution not to appearin the matter. The house was bought in Rachel Trant's name, the sale wasmade to her, and Miss Liddell's name never appeared. Newton declared itto be sheer madness; even Bertie Payne considered it unwise; butKatherine was immovable. 

"I am Miss Trant's creditor, " she said. "If successful, she will pay me:if not, why, she will give up the house to me. I have full faith in her, and I wish her to be perfectly unshackled in the undertaking. As theowner of a house she will more readily obtain any credit she may need. "

"Which means, " said Mr. Newton, crossly, "that you will have to pay herdebts if you ever intend to get possession of the house. "

"Well, I have made up my mind to the risk, " returned Katherine, withsmiling determination; "so we will say no more about it. "

The unexpected meeting with Errington haunted Katherine for many a day, and many a night was broken by unpleasant dreams. She was filled withregret for having so hastily refused his proffered visit. Yet had hecome she would have been uneasy in his presence. She longed to see himagain; she came home from driving or walking each day with aching eyesand dulled heart because she had been disappointed in encountering him. Yet she dreaded to meet him, and trembled at the idea of speaking tohim. She was dismayed at the restless dissatisfaction of her own mind. Was she never to find peace? never to know real enjoyment in herill-gotten fortune? Why was it that the image of this man wasperpetually before her, the sound of his voice in her ears? Then theanswer of her inner consciousness came to overwhelm her with shame andconfusion: "Because you love him with all the strength and fervor of aheart that has never frittered away its force in senseless flirtationsor passing fancies. " This was the climax of misfortune. To know that theone of all others she most looked up to must, in spite of his kindforbearance, despise her as a cheat. Surely it was a sufficientpunishment for a delicately proud woman to know that she had given herlove unasked. All that remained for her was to hide her deep wounds, that by stifling the new and vivid feelings which troubled her theywould die out, and so leave her in a state of monotonous repose. Shewould endeavor by all possible means to win forgetfulness. 

When Cis came back for the Christmas holidays, therefore, he found hisauntie ready to go out with Charlie and himself to circus and pantomime, Polytechnic and wax-works, to his heart's content. It was not a briskfrosty Christmas, or she would no doubt have been with them on the ice, and the round of boyish dissipations called forth an oracular sentencefrom Miss Payne. "It's just as well those boys are going back to school, Katherine. You are more foolish about them than you used to be, and ifthey staid on you would completely ruin them. "

Just before the holidays were over, Mrs. Ormonde visited London, orrather paused in passing through from the distinguished Christmasgathering to which, to her pride and satisfaction, she had been invitedat Lady Mary Vincent's. The little boys were indifferently glad to seeher, and with the jealousy inherent in a disposition such as hers shewas vexed at not being first with her own boys, yet delighted to handover the care and trouble of them to any one who would undertake it. These mixed feelings ruffled the bright surface of her self-content, inflated as it was by her increasing social success. 

She chose to put up at a quiet hotel in Dover Street rather than acceptKatherine's and Miss Payne's joint invitation to Wilton Street. 

"I know you will not mind, Katie dear, " she said, as she sat at tea (towhich refreshment she had invited her sister-in-law). "You see if itwere your own house, quite your own, I should prefer staying with you togoing anywhere else. As it is----"

"You are quite right to please yourself, " put in Katherine. 

"Yes, you are always kind and considerate. But, do you know, bothColonel Ormonde and I are very anxious you should establish yourself ona proper footing. Believe me, you do not take the social position youought, living with an obscure old maid like Miss Payne"--this in a toneof strong common-sense. "The proper place for you is with us atCastleford in the autumn and winter, and a house in town with us in thespring. Then you and I might go abroad sometimes together, and leaveOrmonde to his turnips and hunting. You would be sure to marrywell--quite sure. "

"But I am going to settle myself in a house of my own this spring, " saidKatherine, smiling. 

Against this project Mrs. Ormonde exhausted herself in eloquent ifcontradictory argument: but finding she made no impression, suddenlychanged the subject. "That is a very expensive school you have chosenfor the boys, Katherine. 'Duke thinks it ridiculous. Sixty pounds a yearfor such a little fellow as Cis! and now Charlie will cost as much. "

"It is not cheap, certainly; but it is, I think, worth the money. Cecilhas improved marvellously, and Sandbourne agrees so well with themboth. "

"You will do as you think best, of course. We have the highest regardfor your opinion. But you must remember that what with clothes andtravelling and--oh, and doctors!--it all comes to more than threehundred a year, and at Castleford I could keep them for next to nothing, while the stingy trustees you have chosen only allow me four hundred andfifty. "

"So you have only about a hundred and fifty out of the total for yourpersonal expenses, eh?" said Katherine, laughing. "Then you have ahusband behind you. "

"Oh, I assure you that does not count for much. 'Duke doesn't care tospend money, and my having something of my own makes matters wonderfullysmooth. I am sure you would not like to make any unhappiness betweenus. "

"No, certainly not. I think it quite right, as my brother's widow, youshould have something for yourself as long as you live. "

"You really have a great sense of justice, Katherine, I must say! Livingas you do, dear, you can form no idea what it costs to present anappearance when you are in a certain set. "

"I don't suppose I ever shall, though I like nice clothes too. "

"And look so well in them!" added Mrs. Ormonde, who was always ready, when she deemed it necessary, to burn the incense of flattery on hersister-in-law's shrine. "By-the-way, that is a very pretty, well-madecostume you have on. I think you are slighter than you used to be. "

"The effect of a good fit. I wish you would employ my dressmaker. She isvery moderate. "

"Is she?"

A short discussion of prices followed, and Mrs. Ormonde declared shewould call on Miss Trant that very afternoon and bespeak two dresses, for all she had were quite familiar to the eyes of her associates. 

"I suppose you have heard or seen nothing of De Burgh lately?" exclaimedMrs. Ormonde, suddenly. 

"No, not for a long time. "

"He has been away--somewhere in Hungary, hunting or shooting--and thenhe has been staying with old Lord de Burgh. They used hardly to speak, and now he seems taken into favor. He is a curious sort of man, and hecan be _so_ insolent! How he will put his foot on people's necks when hegets the old man's title and wealth!"

"If they let him, " said Katherine, quietly. 

"As he is in town, I thought he might have called on you. He was alwaysrunning down to that stupid place in the summer, so I----"

"Mr. De Burgh!" said a waiter, opening the door with a burst. 

"Talk of an angel!" cried Mrs. Ormonde, rising to receive him with awelcoming smile. "My sister was just saying it was a long time since shehad seen you. "

Katherine felt annoyed at the thoughtless speech--if it _was_thoughtless. However, she kept a composed air, though the varying colorwhich she never could regulate told De Burgh that she was not unmoved. 

"And probably hoped it would be longer, " he replied, as he shook handswith Mrs. Ormonde, but only bowed to Miss Liddell. 

"Don't answer him, " cried the former; "such decided fishing does notdeserve success. "

"I will not, " said Katherine, with a kind smile. She was too thorough awoman not to have a soft corner in her heart for the man who hadprofessed, with so convincing an air of sincerity, to love her with allhis heart. 

It did not, however, seem to please or displease him, for he sat downbeside the tea-table with his usual unaffected ease, and addressed hisconversation to Mrs. Ormonde. 

"Just heard from Carew that you were in town, and I have only escapedfrom Pontygarvan, where I have been playing the dutiful kinsman to myimmortal relative. I don't know which is most to be avoided, his enmityor his liking. He is an amusing old cynic at times, but a born despot. He only let me away to prosecute a scheme that he has taken up, andwhich I have gone pretty deeply into myself. "

"Indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Ormonde, handing him some tea. "Have you turnedpromoter, or--"

"Well, I am going to be my own promoter; time only will show how I'llsucceed. You must both give me your best wishes. "

"I am sure I do, " said Mrs. Ormonde. 

De Burgh raised his eyes slowly to Katherine's. She had not spoken. "Don't _you_ wish me success? No; I thought you didn't. "

"I wish you all possible happiness, " she said, in a low tone. 

"Have you quarrelled with Katherine, or offended her, that she is soimplacable?" asked Mrs. Ormonde. 

"Neither, I hope. Now what are you doing in the way of amusement? Haveyou seen a play since you came up? The pantomimes are still on at thebig theatres. But I want you to come and see _Ours_ at the Prince ofWales on Thursday; it's very good in parts. Then if you'll sup with meafter, at my rooms, I'll get Carew and Brereton and one or two others tomeet you. "

"It would be very nice!" exclaimed Mrs. Ormonde. 

"Thank you, " returned Katherine. "I am, strange to say, going to a partyon Thursday. "

"To a party! How extraordinary! Where, Katherine?"

"To Lady Barrington's--a lady I knew in Florence, and who has invited merepeatedly. "

"I am sure I am very glad you are coming out of your shell at last. Where does this Lady Barrington live?"

"In Lancaster Square, not far from my abode. "

"Well, let us say Friday for _Ours_, " said De Burgh; "for I too am goingto Lady Barrington's on Thursday. "

"Then why did you invite us for that evening?" cried Mrs. Ormonde. 

"I could have gone afterwards. Lady Barrington's gatherings are alwayslate. "

"You really know every one. "

"Oh, not every one, Mrs. Ormonde. "

"Then our 'play' is not to come off unless Katherine is to be of theparty"--rather pettishly. 

"If you like I will take you on Thursday, and Miss Liddell (if she willallow me) on Friday. "

"What nonsense! We will all go together on Friday. Katie, do you thinkthis friend of yours would invite me? I don't care to mope here when youare out enjoying yourself. "

"I am sure she would be very pleased to see you. I will write and askher for an invitation as soon as I go home. " Katherine rose as shespoke. 

"Do, like a good girl; and I will go and interview this dressmaker ofyours. Till to-morrow, then. "

The little woman stood on tiptoe to kiss her tall sister-in-law, wholeft the room, followed by De Burgh. 

"Haven't I been a reasonable, well-behaved fellow not to have haunted orworried you all these months? Will you let me come and tell you how wiseand staid and prudent I have become?" he said. 

He spoke half in jest, but there was a wonderfully appealing look in hiseyes. 

"I am very glad to hear it, Mr. De Burgh. I hope you will go on andprosper. "

"And will you shut your doors against me if I call?"

"No; why should I?"

"Thanks! How heavenly it is to see you again! though you don't lookquite as bright as you did at Sandbourne. Is this your carriage? I seeyou have not started a turn-out of your own yet. "

"And never shall, probably. "

"Not, at all events, till you have appointed your 'master of the horse. 'Good-by till to-morrow night. "

He handed her carefully into the brougham, and stood looking after it asshe drove away. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

A WANDERER RETURNS. 

It was quite an event in Katherine's quiet life to go to a party. Shehad never been at one in London, and anticipated it with interest. Bothin Florence and Paris she had mixed in society and greatly enjoyed it. Now she felt a little curious as to the impression she might make andreceive. Her nature was essentially vigorous and healthy, and threw offmorbid feelings as certain chemicals repel others inimical to them. Shewould have enjoyed life intensely but for the perpetually recurringsense of irritation against herself for having forfeited her ownself-respect by her hasty action. It would have been somewhathumiliating to have taken charity from the hands of Errington, but thiswas as nothing to the crushing abasement of knowing that she had cheatedhim. Still, no condition of mind is constant--except withmonomaniacs--and Katherine was often carried away from herself and hertroubles. 

She was glad, on the whole, that De Burgh was to be at Lady Barrington'sreception. 

She was too genial, too responsive, not to find admiration veryacceptable. Nor could she believe that a man like De Burgh, hard, daring, careless, could suffer much or long through his affections. Itflattered her woman's vanity, too, that with her he dropped his cynical, mocking tone, and spoke with straightforward earnestness. He might haveended by interesting and flattering her till she loved him--for he had acertain amount of attraction--if her carefully resisted feeling forErrington had not created an antidote to the poison he might haveintroduced into her life. 

Altogether she dressed with something of anticipated pleasure, and wasnot displeased with the result of her toilette. 

Her dress was as deeply mourning as it was good taste to wear at anevening party. A few folds of gauzy white lisse softened the edge of herthick black silk corsage, a jet necklet and comb set off her snowy, velvety throat and bright golden brown hair. 

"I had no idea you would turn out so effectively!" exclaimed Mrs. Ormonde, examining her with a critical eye as they took off their wrapsin the ladies' cloak-room. "Your dress might have been cut a littlelower, dear; with a long throat like yours it is very easy to keepwithin the bounds of decency. I wonder you do not buy yourself somediamonds; they are so becoming. "

"I shall wait for some one to give them to me, " returned Katherine, laughing. 

"Quite right"--very gravely--"only if I were you I should make haste anddecide on the 'some one. '"

"Mrs. Ormonde and Miss Liddell!" shouted the waiters from landing todoor, and the next moment Lady Barrington, a large woman in black velvetand a fierce white cap in which glittered an aigret of diamonds, waswelcoming them with much cordiality. 

"Very happy to see any friend of yours, my dear Miss Liddell! I think Ihad the pleasure of meeting you, Mrs. Ormonde, at Lord Trevallan'sgarden-party last June?"

"Oh yes; were _you_ there?" with saucy surprise. 

"Algernon, " continued Lady Barrington, motioning with her fan to a tall, thin youth. "My nephew, Mrs. Ormonde, Miss Liddell. I think Algernon hadthe pleasure of meeting you at Rome?" Katherine bowed and smiled. "TakeMrs. Ormonde and Miss Liddell in and find them seats near the piano. Signor Bandolini and Madam Montebello are good enough to give us some oftheir charming duets, and are just going to begin. I was afraid youmight be late. "

So Mrs. Ormonde and Miss Liddell were ushered to places of honor, andthe music began. 

"I don't see a soul I know, " whispered Mrs. Ormonde, presently. "Yet thewomen are well dressed and look nice enough, but the men are decidedlycaddish. "

"London is a large place, with room in it for all sorts and conditionsof men. But we must not talk, Ada. "

Mrs. Ormonde was silent for a while; and then opening her fan to screenher irrepressible desire to communicate her observations, resumed:

"I am sure I saw Captain Darrell in the doorway only for a minute, andhe went away. I hope he will come and talk to us. You were gone when hecame back from leave--to Monckton, I mean. He is rather amu--" A warning"hush-sh" interrupted her. 

"What rude, ill-bred people!" she muttered, under her breath. And soonthe duet--a new one, expressly composed to show off the vocal gymnasticsof the signore and madame--came to an end; there was a rustle of relief, and every one burst into talk. 

"How glad they are it is over!" said Mrs. Ormonde. "Look at that tallgirl in pink. You see those sparkles in the roses on her corsage and inher hair; they are all diamonds. I know the white glitter. What airs shegives herself! I suppose she is an heiress, and, I dare say, not half asrich as you are. "

"Don't be too sure. I am no millionaire, " began Katherine, when she wasinterrupted by a voice she knew, which said, "I had no idea it was to besuch a ghastly concern as this!" and turning, she found De Burgh closebehind her. 

"What offends you?" she asked, smiling. 

"All this trilling and shrieking. There's tea or something going ondownstairs. You had better come away before they have a fresh burst;they are carrying up a big fiddle. "

"Tea!" exclaimed Mrs. Ormonde. "Oh, do take me away to have some!"

"Here, Darrell, " said De Burgh, coolly, turning back to speak to someone who stood behind him. "Here's Mrs. Ormonde dying for deliverance andtea. Come, do your _devoir_. "

Darrell hastened forward, smiling, delighted. With a little pucker ofthe brow and lifting of the eyebrows Mrs. Ormonde accepted his arm. 

"Now, Miss Liddell, " said De Burgh, offering his; and not sorry toescape from the heated, crowded room, Katherine took it and accompaniedhim downstairs. 

"I did not think you knew Lady Barrington, " said Katherine, as he handedher an ice. 

"Know her? Never heard of her till you mentioned her name the day beforeyesterday. "

"How did she come to ask you to her house, then?"

"Let me see. Oh, I went down to the club and asked if any one knew LadyBarrington, and who was going to her party. At last Darrell said he wasa sort of relation, and that he would ask for a card. He did, and here Iam. "

"But you said you were coming. "

"So I was. I made up my mind to come as soon as you said you were. "

"You are very audacious, Mr. De Burgh!" said Katherine, laughing inspite of her intention to be rather distant with him. 

"Do you think so? Then I have earned the character cheaply. Are theygoing to squall and fiddle all night? I thought it might turn into adance. "

"I did not imagine you would condescend to dance. "

"Why? I used to like dancing, under certain conditions. Don't fancy Ihaven't an ear for music, Miss Liddell, because I said the performanceupstairs was ghastly. I am very fond of music--real sweet music. I liked_your_ songs, and I should have liked a waltz with you--_im_mensely. Youknow I never met you in society before--" He stopped abruptly and lookedat her from head to foot, with a comprehensive glance so full of theadmiration he did not venture to speak that Katherine felt the colormount to her brow and even spread over her white throat, while an oddsense of uneasy distress fluttered her pulses. She only said, indifferently: "I might not prove a good partner. I have never dancedmuch. "

"I might give you a lesson in that too, as well as in handling theribbons. And for that there will be a grand opportunity next week. LordDe Burgh is coming up, and I shall have the run of his stables, which Iwill take good care shall be well filled. We'll have out a smart pair ofcobs, and you shall take them round the Park every morning, till you arefit to give all the other women whips the go-by. "

"Do you seriously believe such a scheme possible?"

"It shall be if you say yes. Do you know that you have brought me luck?You have, 'pon my soul! I am A-1 with old De Burgh, and I won a pot ofmoney up in Yorkshire, paid a lot of debts, sold my horses. Now, don'tyou think you ought to be interested in your man Friday? You rememberour last meeting at Sandbourne--hey? Don't you think I am going tosucceed all along the line?"

"It is impossible to say, " returned Katherine. "You know there is aFrench proverb--" She stopped, not liking to repeat it as she suddenlyremembered the application. 

"Yes, I do know the lying Gallic invention! _Heureux au jeu, malheureuxen amour_. I don't believe it. If luck's with you, all goes well; butthen Fortune is such a fickle jade!"

"I trust you will always be fortunate, Mr. De Burgh, " said Katherine, gently. 

"I like to hear you say so. Now I don't often let my tongue run on as ithas, but if you'll be patient and friendly, I'll be as mild andinoffensive as a youngster fresh from school. "

"Very well, " said Katherine, smiling and confused. Here she wasinterrupted by the sudden approach of Mrs. Needham, her dark eyesgleaming with pleased recognition, and her high color heightened by theheat of the rooms. She was gorgeous in red satin, black lace anddiamonds. "My dear Miss Liddell! I have been looking for you everywhere!I want so much to speak to you about a project I have for starting a newweekly paper, to be called _The Woman's Weekly_. There is an empty sofain that little room at the other side of the hall. Do come, and I willexplain it all. It is likely to do a great deal of good, and to be apaying concern into the bargain. You will excuse me for running awaywith Miss Liddell"--to De Burgh--"but we have some matters to discuss. We shall meet you upstairs afterwards. " She swept Katherine away, whileDe Burgh stood scowling. Who was this audacious pirate who had cut outhis convoy from under the fire of his angry eyes?

"You see, my dear, " commenced Mrs. Needham, in a low voice and speakingrapidly, "there is an immense field to be cultivated in the humblestrata of the better working-class, and the paper I wish to establishwill be quite different from _The Queen_, more useful and less thanhalf-price. No stuff about fashionable marriages in print that is enoughto blind an eagle, but useful receipts and work patterns, domesticinformation, and a story--a story is a great point--a description of anygreat events, and fashion plates, etc. " And she poured forth a torrentof what she was pleased to term "facts and figures" till Katherine feltfairly bewildered. 

"It seems a great undertaking, " she replied, when she could get a wordin. "I shall require a great deal of explanation before I can comprehendit. Will you not come and see me when we shall be alone, and we candiscuss it quietly?"

"Certainly, my dear Miss Liddell--to-morrow. No; to-morrow I have aboutseven or eight engagements between two and six-thirty. Let me see. I amterribly pressed just now; I will write and fix some morning if you willcome and lunch with me. If you could see your way to taking a few sharesit would be a great help. Money--money--money. Without the filthy lucrenothing can be begun or ended. Now tell me how you have been. I havebeen coming to see you for _months_, but never get a moment to myself;but I have heard of you from Mr. Payne. What a good fellow he is! How isMiss Payne?" Katherine replied, and Mrs. Needham rushed on: "Nice party, isn't it? There are several literary people here to-night. I did notknow Lady Barrington went in for literary society, but one picks up alittle of all sorts when you live abroad for a while. Here is a veryinteresting man. He is coming very much to the front as a political andphilosophic writer. It is said he is to be the editor of _The Empire_, that new monthly which they say is to take the lead of all themagazines. I met him at Professor Kean's last week. I don't think hesees me--Good-evening! Don't think you remember me--Mrs. Needham. Hadthe pleasure of meeting you at Professor Kean's last Monday. Mr. Errington, Miss Liddell!"

"I have already the pleasure of knowing Miss Liddell, " he returned, witha grave smile and stately bow, as he took the hand Katherinehesitatingly held out. 

"Oh, indeed; I was not aware of it. " Errington stood talking with Mrs. Needham, or, rather, answering her rapid questions respecting a varietyof subjects, until she suddenly recognized some one to whom she wasimperatively compelled to speak. With a hasty, "Will you be so good asto take Miss Liddell to her friends?" she darted away with surprisinglightness and rapidity, considering her size and solidity. 

"Would you like to go upstairs?" asked Errington. 

"If you please. " Katherine was quivering with pain and pleasure atfinding herself thus virtually alone with the man whose image hauntedher in spite of her constant determined efforts to banish it from hermind. 

On the first landing was a conservatory prettily lit and decorated, andlarger than those ordinarily appended to London houses. "Suppose we resthere, " said Errington. "From the quiet which reigns above, I think someone is reciting and that is not an exhilarating style of amusement. "

"I should think not. I have never heard any one attempt to recite inEngland. "

"May you long be preserved from the infliction! There are very few whocan make recitation endurable. "

After some enquiries for Colonel and Mrs. Ormonde, and a fewobservations on the beautiful, abundant flowers, Errington said: "Won'tyou sit down? If it is not unpleasant to you, I should like to improvethis occasion, as I rarely have an opportunity of seeing you. "

Katherine complied, and sat down on a settee which was behind a centralgroup of tall feathery ferns. She was another creature from the brightand somewhat coquettish girl who was always ready to answer De Burgh orColonel Ormonde with keen prompt wit. Silent, downcast, scarcely able toraise her eyes to Errington's, yet too fascinated to resist his wish tocontinue their interview. 

"I am very glad to meet you here, " began Errington in his calm, melodious voice. "It is so much better for you to mix with your kind; ithas a wholesome, humanizing influence, and may I venture to say that youare inclined to be morbid?"

"Can you wonder?" said Katherine, soft and low. 

"Yes, I do. There is no reason why you should not be bright and happy, and enjoy the goods the gods--"

"No, " she interrupted, playing nervously with the flowers in herbouquet; "not given by the gods! Stolen from you!" She did not raise hereyes as she spoke. 

"I do beg you to put that incident out of your mind. We have arrangedthe question of succession, as only I had a right to do. No one elseneed know, and you will, I am sure, make a most excellent use of what isnow really yours. Forget the past, and allow me to be your friend. "

"I am always thinking of you, " she said, almost in a whisper. "Yet it isalways a trial to meet you. I think I would rather not. Tell me, " with asudden impulse of tenderness and contrition, looking up to him withhumid eyes, "are you well and happy? How have you borne the terriblechange in your life?"

"I am perfectly well and quite happy, " returned Errington, with a slightsmile. "The terrible change, as you term it, has affected me verylittle. I find real work most exhilarating, and slight success is sweet. Since I knew that the tangle of my poor father's affairs wassatisfactorily unravelled, I have been at ease, comparatively. Life hasmany sides. I miss most my horses. "

"Ah, yes, you must miss them! Well, from what I hear, you seem to bemaking a place for yourself in literature. I am so glad!"

"Thank you. And you, may I ask, what are your plans?"

"If you are so good as to care, I am going to take a house and make ahome for myself and my little nephews. Without any formal agreement, Mrs. Ormonde leaves them very much to me. They are a great interest tome. And as you are so kind in wishing me to be happy and not morbid, Iwill try to forget. I think I could be happier if you would promise mesomething. "

"What?"

"If ever--" She hesitated; her voice trembled. "If you ever wantanything, " she hurried on, nervously, "anything, even to the half of mykingdom, you will deign to accept it from me?"

"I will, " said Errington, with a kind and, as Katherine imagined, acondescending smile. 

"He thinks me a weak, impulsive child, who must be forgiven because sheis scarcely responsible, " she said to herself. 

"And this preliminary settled, you will admit me to the honor of youracquaintance?"

"Oh, Mr. Errington, do not think me ungrateful. But can you notunderstand that, good and generous as you are, your presence overwhelmsme?"

"Then I will not intrude upon you. Gently and very gravely I accept yourdecree. "

They were silent for a moment; then Katherine said, "I was sure youwould understand me. " As she spoke, De Burgh suddenly came round thegroup of ferns and stood before them with an air of displeased surprise. 

"Why, Miss Liddell! I thought that desperate filibuster in red satinhad carried you off. I have sought you high and low. How d'ye do, Errington? Haven't seen you this age. Mrs. Ormonde wants to go home, Miss Liddell. "

"I suppose the recitation is over, " said Errington, coolly. "I will takeMiss Liddell to Mrs. Ormonde, whom I have not seen for some time. "

De Burgh, therefore, had nothing for it but to walk after the man whomhe at once decided was a dangerous rival, as indeed he would haveconsidered any one in the rank of a gentleman. 

Mrs. Ormonde was quite charmed to see Errington. She had put him ratherout of her mind. It was a pleasant surprise to meet him once more insociety, for she had a sort of dim idea his ruin was so complete that hemust have sold his dress clothes to provide food, and could never, therefore, hold up his head in society again. 

"It is quite nice to see you once more!" she exclaimed, with a sweetsmile, after they had exchanged greetings. "Colonel Ormonde will bedelighted to hear of you. I wish you could come down for a few days'hunting. Do give me your address, and Duke will write to you. "

"There is my address, " he said, taking out his card case and giving hera card; "but I fear there is little chance of my getting out of towntill long after the hunting is over. "

"Oh, you must try. At all events, come and see me. I am at Thorne'sHotel, Dover Street, and almost always at home about five. But I leavetown next week. "

Here the hostess sailed up, and touching Errington's arm, said "SirArthur Haynes, the great authority on international law, you know, wantsto be introduced to you, Mr. Errington. "

Mrs. Ormonde took the opportunity of saying good-night, and Katherinetook farewell of Errington with a bow. 

"Twenty-four, Sycamore Court Temple. What a come-down for him!" saidMrs. Ormonde, looking at the card she held, when they reached thecloak-room. 

"He seems cheerful enough, " said Katherine, irritated at the tone inwhich the observation was made; "and I thought the Temple was rather asmart place to live in. "

"I am sure I don't know. Come, it must be late. What a stupid party! Howcross De Burgh looks! I am sure he has a horrid temper. "

In the hall Captain Darrell and De Burgh awaited them. The latter wastoo angry to speak. He handed Katherine into the carriage, and utteringa brief good-night, stepped back to make way for Captain Darrell, whoexpressed his pleasure at having met Mrs. Ormonde, and begged to beallowed to call next day. 

On the whole, Katherine felt comforted by the assurance of Errington'sfriendly feeling toward her. How cruel it was to be obliged thus toreject his kindly advances! But it was wiser. If she met him often, whatwould become of her determination to steel her heart against theextraordinary feeling he had awakened? Besides, it could only be thewonderful patient benevolence of his nature which made him take anynotice of her. In his own mind contempt could be the only feeling sheawakened. No; the less she saw of him, the better for her. 

By the time De Burgh called to escort Katherine and Mrs. Ormonde (whohad dined with her) to the theatre he had conquered the extreme, thoughunreasonable, annoyance which had seized him on finding Errington andKatherine in apparently confidential conversation. He exerted himselftherefore to be an agreeable host with success. 

A play was the amusement of all others which delighted Katherine anddrew her out of herself. De Burgh was diverted and Mrs. Ormonde halfashamed of the profound interest, the entire attention, with which shelistened to the dialogue and awaited the _denouement_. 

"I should have thought you had seen too much good acting abroad to be sodelighted with this, " said Mrs. Ormonde. 

"But this is excellent, and the style is so new I have to thank you, Mr. De Burgh, for a delightful evening. "

"The same to you, " he returned. "Seeing you enjoy it so much woke me upto the merits of the thing. "

The supper was bright and lively. Three men besides himself, and acousin, a pretty, chatty woman of the world, completed De Burgh's party. There was plenty of laughing and chaffing. Katherine felt seized by afeverish desire to shake off dull care, to forget the past, to be asother women were. There was no reason why she should not. So she laughedand talked with unusual animation, and treated her host with kindlycourtesy, that set his deep eyes aglow with hope and pleasure. 

"It is a great advantage to be rich, " said Mrs. Ormonde, reflectively, as she leaned comfortably in the corner of the carriage which conveyedher and her sister-in-law home. She was always a little nettled when shefound how completely Katherine had effaced herself from De Burgh'sfickle mind. She had been highly pleased with the idea of having herhusband's distinguished relative for a virtuous and despairing adorer, and his desertion had mortified her considerably. 

"Yes, money is certainly a great help, " returned Katherine, scarceheeding what she said. 

"It certainly has been to you, Katie. Don't think me disagreeable forsuggesting it, but do you suppose De Burgh would show you all thisdevotion if you were to lose your money?"

"Oh no! He could not afford it. He told me he must marry a rich woman. "

"Did he, really? It is just like him. What audacity! I wonder you everspoke to him again. Then you _are_ going in for rank, Katherine?"

"How can you tell? I don't know myself. Good-night. I shall tell youwhenever I know my own mind. "

"She is as close as wax, with all her frankness, " thought Mrs. Ormondeas she went up to her room, after taking an affectionate leave of hersister-in-law. 

The boys at school, Katherine found time hung somewhat heavily on herhands--a condition of things only too favorable to thought and visionsof what "might have been. " So, with the earnest hope of finding theexhilarations which might lead, through forgetfulness, to the happinessshe so eagerly craved, Katherine accepted almost all the invitationswhich were soon showered upon her. At the houses of acquaintances shehad made abroad she made numerous new ones, who were quite ready to_fete_, the handsome, sweet-voiced, pleasant-mannered heiress, whoseemed to think so little about herself. 

"Just the creature to be imposed upon, my dear!" as each motherwhispered to the one next her, thinking, of course, of the other's son. 

But her most satisfactory hours were those spent with Rachel, when theytalked of the business, and often branched off to more abstractsubjects. To the past they never alluded. Katherine was glad to see thatthe dead, hopeless expression of Rachel Trant's eyes had changed, yetnot altogether for good. A certain degree of alertness had brightenedthem, but with it had come a hard, steady look, as though the spiritwithin had a special work to do, and was steeled and "straitened till itbe accomplished. "

"You are quite a clever accountant, Rachel, " said Katherine, oneafternoon in early April, after they had gone through the bookstogether. "You have been established nearly five months, and you havepaid expenses and a trifle over. "

"It is not bad. Then, you see, the warehouses will give me credit forthe next orders, three months' credit, and my orders are increasing. Iam sure it is of great importance to have materials for customers tochoose from. Ladies like to be saved the trouble of shopping, and I cangive a dress at a more moderate rate, if I provide everything, than theycan buy it piecemeal. I hope to double the business this season, and payyou a good percentage. Even on credit I can venture to order a fairsupply of goods. "

"Don't try credit yet, Rachel, " said Katherine, earnestly. "I can giveyou a check now, and after this you can stand alone. "

"Are you quite sure you can do this without inconvenience?" askedRachel. "If you can, I will accept it. I begin to feel sure I shall beable to develop a good business and what will prove valuable property toyou. It is an ambition that has quite filled my heart, and in devotingmyself to it I have found the first relief from despair--a despair thatpossessed my soul whenever you were out of my sight. When I am notthinking of gowns and garnitures, I am adding up all the money you havesunk in this adventure, and planning how it may ultimately pay you sixper cent. Over and above expenses. It does not sound a very heroic styleof gratitude, but it is practical, and I believe feasible. "

"You are intensely real, " said Katherine, "and I believe you will besuccessful. "

After discussing a few more points connected with the undertaking theyparted, and before Katherine dressed for dinner she wrote and despatchedthe promised check. 

De Burgh had throughout this period conducted himself with prudence anddiscretion. He often called about tea-time, and frequently managed tomeet Katherine in the evening, but he carefully maintained a frank, friendly tone, even when expressing in his natural brusque way hisadmiration of herself or her dress. He talked pleasantly to Miss Payne, and subscribed to many of Bertie's charities. Katherine was gettingquite used to him, though they disagreed and argued a good deal. Shesometimes tried to persuade herself that De Burgh had given up hisoriginal pretentions and would be satisfied with platonics. But herinner consciousness rejected the theory. Still, De Burgh came to berecognized as a favored suitor by society, and the "mothers, thecousins, and the aunts" of eligible young men shook their heads over themistake she was making. 

Now, after mature consideration, Katherine determined to make the willshe had so long postponed, and bequeath all she possessed to Errington. It was rather a formidable undertaking to announce this intention to Mr. Newton, who would be sure to be surprised and interrogative, but shewould do it. Having, therefore, made an appointment with him, shescrewed up her courage and set out, accompanied by Miss Payne, who hadbeen laid up with a cold, and was venturing out for the first time. Shetook advantage of Katherine's brougham to have a drive. The morning wasvery fine, and they started early, early enough to allow Miss Payne toleave the carriage and walk a little in the sun on "the Ladies' Mile. "

As they proceeded slowly along, a well-appointed phaeton and pair offine steppers passed them. It was occupied by two gentlemen, one old, gray, bent, and closely wrapped up; the other vigorous, dark, erect, held the reins. He lifted his hat as he passed Katherine and hercompanion with a swift, pleased smile. 

"Who are those women?" asked the old gentleman, in a thick growl. 

"Miss Liddell and her companion. "

"By George! she looks like a gentlewoman. Turn, and let us pass themagain. "

De Burgh obeyed, and slackened speed as he went by. At the sound of thehorses' tramp Katherine turned her head and gave De Burgh a bright smileand gracious bow. 

"She is wonderfully good-looking for an heiress, " remarked Lord deBurgh, who was, of course, the wrapped-up old gentleman. "I should saysomething for you if you could show such a woman with sixty or seventythousand behind her as your wife. Why don't you go in and win? Don't letthe grass grow under your feet. "

"It is easier said than done. Miss Liddell is not an ordinary sort ofyoung lady; she is not to be hurried. But I do not despair, by anymeans, of winning her yet. If I press my suit too soon, I may lose mychance. Trust me, it won't be my fault if I fail. "

"I see you are in earnest, " said the old man, "and I believe you'llwin. "

De Burgh nodded, and whipped up his horses. 

"That must be the old lord, " said Miss Payne, as the phaeton passed outof sight. "Mr. De Burgh seems in high favor. I cannot help liking himmyself. There is no nonsense about him, and he is quite a gentleman inspite of his _brusquerie_. "

"Yes, I think he is, " said Katherine, thoughtfully, and walked on alittle while in silence. Then Miss Payne said she felt tired; so theygot into the carriage again and drove to Mr. Newton's office. ThereKatherine alighted, and desired the driver to take Miss Payne home andreturn for herself. 

"And what is your business to-day?" asked Mr. Newton, when, after acordial greeting, his fair client had taken a chair beside his knee-holetable. 

"A rather serious matter, I assure you. I want to make my will. "

"Very right, very right; it will not bring you any nearer your last hourand it ought to be done. "

The lawyer drew a sheet of paper to him, and prepared to "takeinstructions. "

"I should like to leave several small legacies, " began Katherine, "andhave put down the names of those I wish to remember, with the amountseach is to receive. If you read over this paper" (handing it to him) "wecan discuss----"

She was interrupted by a tap at the door which faced her, but was onNewton's left. A high screen protected the old lawyer from draughts, andprevented him from seeing who entered until the visitor stood beforehim. 

"Come in, " said Newton, peevishly; and as a clerk presented himself, added, "What do you want?"

"Beg pardon, sir. A gentleman downstairs wants to see you so veryparticularly that he insisted on my coming up. "

"Well, say I can't. I am particularly engaged. He must wait. "

While he spoke Katherine saw a man cross the threshold, a tall, gauntman, slightly stooped. His clothes hung loosely on him, but they werenew and good. His hair was iron gray, and thin on his craggy temples. Something about his watchful, stern eyes, his close-shut mouth, andstrong, clean-shaven jaw seemed not unfamiliar to Katherine, and she wasstrangely struck and interested in his aspect. Mr. Newton's last wordsevidently reached his ear, for he answered, in deep, harsh tones, "No, Newton, I will _not_ wait!" and walked in, pausing exactly opposite thelawyer, who grew grayly pale, and starting from his seat, leaned bothhands on the table, while he trembled visibly. "My God!" he exclaimed, hoarsely; "George Liddell!"

"Ay, George Liddell! I thought you would know me. "

CHAPTER XXIV. 

A TRAVELLER'S STORY. 

When these startling sentences penetrated to Katherine's comprehensionshe saw as with a flash their far-reaching consequences. Her uncle'swill suppressed, his son and natural heir would take everything. And herdear boys--how would they fare?

She sat with wide-dilated eyes, gazing at the hard, displeased face ofthis unwelcome intruder. There were a few moments of profound silence;the old lawyer's hands, which relaxed their grasp of his chair as helooked with startled amazement at his late client's son, visiblytrembled. 

Liddell was the first to speak. "So you thought I was dead and out ofthe way, " he said, with a sneer; "that nothing would happen to disturbthe fortunate possessor of my father's money. I was dead and done for, and a good riddance. "

"But how--how is it that you are alive!" stammered Mr. Newton. 

"Oh, that I can easily account for. " And he looked round for a chair. 

"Yes, pray sit down, " said Mr. Newton, recovering himself. 

Here Katherine, with the unconscious tact of a sensitive woman, feelinghow terrible it must be to find one's continued existence a source ofregret to others, rose and held out her hand. "Let me, your kinswoman, "she said, "welcome you back to life and home. I hope there are manyhappy years before you. "

Liddell was greatly surprised. He mechanically took the hand offered tohim, and looking earnestly into her face, exclaimed, "Who are you?"

"Katherine Liddell, your uncle Frederic's daughter. "

He dropped--indeed, almost threw--her hand from him. "What!" he cried, "are _you_ the supplanter, who took all without an inquiry, without aneffort to find out if I were dead or alive?"

"Sit down--sit down--sit down, " repeated Newton, still confused. "Let ustalk over everything. As to trying to find you, we never dreamed offinding you, considering that twelve, fourteen years ago we had anaccount of your death from an eye-witness. "

"Cowardly liar! It was worth a Jew's ransom to see him turn white anddrop into a chair when I confronted him the day before yesterday. "

"Why did you not communicate with me on hearing of your father's death?"

"When do you think I heard of it? Do you fancy I sat down in the midstof my busy day to pore over the births, deaths, and marriages in apaper, like a gossiping woman? Kith and kin were dead to me long ago. What did I care for English papers? What had my life or the life of mypoor mother been that I should give those I had left behind a thought?"He paused, and taking a chair, looked very straight at Katherine. "Now Ishall tell you my story, once for all, to show you that there is no usein disputing my rights. You know"--addressing Newton--"how my life wasmade a burden to me, and that I ran away to sea, ready to throw myselfinto it rather than return to my miserable home. After several voyages Ifound myself at Sydney. A young fellow who had been my mate on thevoyage out, an active, clever chap, proposed that we should start forthe gold fields; so we started. It was a desperate long tramp, but wereached them at last. Life was hard and rough, and for a time we workedand worked, and got nothing. At last we found a pocket, just as we weregoing to give up, and having secured a fair lot of gold, we divided ourgains and determined to leave the camp, which was not too safe for asuccessful digger, before the rest knew of our treasure-trove. Wedecided to trudge it to the nearest place where we could buy horses, andthen to make our way to Sydney as fast as we could. Somehow it must havegot out that we _had_ gold, for as the dusk of evening was closing roundus on the second day of our march we were attacked by some men onhorseback--bush-rangers, I suppose. We showed fight, and I was hit inthe shoulder. At the same time I stumbled over a stump, and pitched onto my head, which stunned me. Just then, it seems, the sound of horsesapproaching frightened the scoundrels, and they made off. My mate, notknowing whether the new-comers were friends or foes, he says, got awayas fast as he could. His story is that as soon as all was still he creptback, and finding me apparently quite dead, went on to report thecatastrophe at the first road-side inn he came to. _I_ believe that, thinking me dead, he took all my gold, and said precious little aboutme. "

"His story to me, " interrupted Mr. Newton, "was that he got assistanceand buried your remains as decently as he could. "

"What induced him to apply to you at all?"

"I do not know. I fancy it was to hand over a few small nuggets, whichhe said was your share of the findings, and which he took from yourwaistband before committing you to the grave. As he seemed frank andstraightforward and quite poor, I confess I believed him, and evenrequested Mr. Liddell to give him some small present. He said he wasgoing afloat again, and would sail in a few days. He had an oldclasp-knife which I myself had given you, and with it a smallpocket-book in which your name and my address were written in your ownhand. These were tolerably convincing proofs that he at least knew you. Moreover, there seemed no need whatever that he should have made anyattempt to communicate with your people. He might have held his tongue, and no question would have been raised respecting you. "

"You are right, " returned Liddell, bitterly. 

"And how did you escape?" asked Katherine, with eager interest. 

"He--this Tom Dunford--_did_ go to the next inn and told of the attack;he even guided some men to the spot, and left _them_ to bury me, becausehe was obliged to hurry on to Sydney; but I believe he returned, beforegoing to the inn, and robbed me. Anyhow I was not killed by the bullet, but stunned by the fall. Some of the fellows who came with Tom fancied Idid not seem quite dead. Finally I recovered, and instead of digging forgold myself, got others to dig for me. I set up an inn and a store, withthe help of an American whose daughter I married, and now I am richenough to be a formidable foe. I have a little girl, and when my wifedied I determined to realize everything, to come to England, and havethe child brought up as an English lady. On the voyage home I fell inwith a man--a fellow of the rolling-stone order--to whom I used to talknow and again. He turned out to be the brother of one of your clerks, and from him I heard that my father had died intestate, that my cousinhad taken possession of everything, and that I was looked upon as dead. Did you never attempt to prove the truth of Tom Dunford's story?"

"We did. I communicated with the police of Sydney, and they found thatthere had been a fight between bush-rangers and diggers returning fromWoollamaroo at the time and place specified; moreover, that one of thediggers was killed, while the other escaped, but further nothing wasknown. The man who kept the inn mentioned by Dunford had made money andmoved off, so the track was broken. Then all these years you made nosign. Did you not see the advertisements I put in an Australian paper?"

"No; I was far away from any town, and rarely saw any but the Americanpapers which came to my master. Well, here I am, determined to haveevery inch of my rights, let who will stand in my way; and_you_"--looking fiercely into Newton's eyes--"shall be my firstwitness. "

"I cannot deny that I recognize you, " said Newton, reluctantly. 

Liddell laughed scornfully. "And you?" turning to Katherine. 

"I have no doubt you are my cousin George. "

"Right! As to that fellow Tom--he would never have hurt me, but I amsure he robbed me, especially if he thought I was dead. His game was tohold himself harmless whether I lived or died, only he ought not to havecommitted himself to seeing me buried. I found him out in Liverpool, andgave him a fright, for he really believed me dead. Now, cousin, I hopeyou understand that I mean to take every farthing of my father'sfortune. He never did me much good in my life, nor my poor mothereither, and I am determined to get all I can out of what he has leftbehind him. But I never dreamed he could pass away without taking carethat nothing should come to me. It is strange that your mother and myuncle should make no fresh attempt to discover me. "

"We had looked upon you as dead for years, and my father had died beforethe news of your supposed murder reached us. " Katherine could hardlysteady her voice; she was burning to get away. "I beg you will notresent the fact of my most unconscious usurpation. I would not doanything unjust. " She stopped, remembering what she _had_ done. Surelythe punishment was coming quick upon her. 

"Ay, " said George Liddell, looking sternly at her. "It is a bitter pillfor a fine lady like you to swallow, to find a ragged outcast like methrusting you from the place you have no right to; where my poor littlewild untutored girl will take her stand in spite of you all. "

"From what I have heard, I do not think my father or mother ever treatedyou as an outcast, " said Katherine, with quiet dignity; adding, as sherose to leave them, "You seem so irritated against me I will leave youwith Mr. Newton, who will, I know, act as a true friend to both of us. "

Mr. Newton, with a grave and troubled face, hastened after to see herto her carriage. "This is an awful blow!" he said in a low voice. 

"It is, no doubt. Do you think, as he is already rich, that he might dosomething for the boys? Then I should not care. "

"The boys!"--impatiently. "You need not trouble about them when he hasthe power to _rob_ you even of the trifle you inherit from your fatherby demanding the arrears of income since your uncle's death, as he hasthe right to do. Why, he can beggar you!"

"Indeed! He looks like a hard man; he is like his father. "

"Well, trust me, I will do my best for you. "

"I know you will, " returned Katherine, pressing the old lawyer's hand ashe leaned against the carriage door. 

"Good-by! God bless you!" he returned; and Katherine was carried awayfrom him. Slowly and sadly the old man ascended to his office again toconfront the angry claimant, who awaited him impatiently. 

Meantime Katherine was striving to think clearly, to rouse herself fromthe stunned, bewildered condition into which the appearance of GeorgeLiddell had thrown her, and which Mr. Newton's words increased. What wasto become of Cis and Charlie if she were beggared? She could not facethe prospect. There was still a way of escape left, a glimpse of whichhad been given to her as she listened to her cousin's vindictiveutterances. If she could prevail on Errington to produce the will andassert his right, he would provide for those poor innocent boys, andnever ask _her_ for any of the money she had spent. Maybe he would sharewith George himself. She must see Errington at once, and with thestrictest secrecy. Her thoughts cleared as, bit by bit, her planunfolded itself in her busy brain. Then she made up her mind. Touchingthe check-string, she desired the driver to stop at a small fancywareand stationer's shop near Miss Payne's house. Arrived there, shedismissed the carriage, saying she would walk home. 

"Give me paper and an envelope: I want to write a few lines, " she saidto the smiling shopwoman, who knew her to be one of their bestcustomers. 

Having traced a few words entreating Errington to see her early nextday--should he happen to be out or engaged--she hailed a hansome, andwent as quickly as she could to his lodgings in the Temple. 

It was quite different, this second visit, from the first. He now knewall, and in spite of her fears and profound uneasiness she felt a thrillof pleasure at the idea of the necessity for taking counsel with him, the prospect of half an hour's undisturbed communication, of hearing hisvoice, and feeling his kind forgiving glance. Still it was an awfultrial too--to tell him the upshot of her dishonesty, the confusion shehad wrought by her deviation into a crooked path. She was trembling fromhead to foot by the time she reached Errington's abode. 

A severe-looking woman, a caretaker apparently, was on the stair asKatherine ascended, feeling dreadfully puzzled what to do, as shefeared having to knock in vain and go away without leaving her note. 

"Can you tell me if Mr. Errington is at home?" she asked, timidly, quitefrightened at the sound of her own voice in so strange a place. 

"I am sure I don't know, miss. I dare say he's gone out. He is up thenext flight. "

"May I ask you to inquire if he is in? If not, would you be so kind asto leave this note?"

The woman took it with a rather discontented suspicious air, but findingit was accompanied by a coin of the realm, went on her errand with greatalacrity. Katherine followed slowly. 

"You're to walk up at once; he's in, " said the emissary, meeting her atthe top of the stair. 

At the door stood Errington, her note in his hand, and a serious, uneasyexpression on his countenance. Katherine was very white; her eyes weredilated with a look of fear and distress. 

"Pray come in, " said Errington; and he closed the door behind her. "Ifear you are in some difficulty. You can speak without reserve; I amquite alone. "

Katherine was aware of passing through a small room with doors right andleft, and possessing only a couple of chairs and a small table; throughthis Errington led her to his sitting-room, which was almost lined withbooks, and comfortably furnished. He placed a chair for her, andreturned to his own seat by a table at which he had been writing. 

"The last time I came it was in the hope of assisting _you_ by myconfession; now I have come to beg for your help--" She stoppedabruptly. "My uncle's son George, who was believed to have been killedby bush-rangers in Australia more than fourteen years ago, has returned, alive and well. "

"But can he prove his identity?"

"I was with Mr. Newton when he came into the office, and the moment Mr. Newton saw him he started up, exclaiming, 'George Liddell!' and I--I sawthe likeness to his father. "

"Did Newton know him formerly?"

"Yes; he seems to have been almost his only friend. "

"How was it he did not put in an appearance and assert his rightsbefore?"

"I will tell you all. " And she went on to describe the interview whichhad just taken place, the curious vindictive spirit which her cousindisplayed, his very recent knowledge of his father's death, and Mr. Newton's words of warning, "He has the power to rob you even of thetrifle you inherit from your father, by demanding the arrears of incomesince your uncle's death; he can beggar you. "

"No doubt he can, but surely he will not!" exclaimed Errington. 

"It seems to me that if he can he will. To give him up that which is hisis quite right, and will not cost me a pang; but to be penniless, tosend back my poor dear little boys, to be considered and treated asburdens by their mother and Colonel Ormonde--oh, I cannot bear it! Iknow now Charlie would be crushed and Cecil would be hardened. It isfor this I come to you for help. Mr. Errington, I implore you to producethe will which puts this cruelty out of George Liddell's power. Surelyyou might say that not liking to disinherit me, you suppressed it? Thisis true, you know. "

"The will!" exclaimed Errington, starting up and pacing the room ingreat agitation. "My God! I have destroyed it. Thinking it safer for youthat it should be out of the way, I destroyed it, and by so doing I havegiven you, bound hand and foot, into the power of this man. Can youforgive me?--can you ever forgive me?" He took and wrung her hand, holding it for a moment, while he looked imploringly into her eyes. 

"Oh yes, I do heartily forgive you. You only did it to save me from anychance of discovery. If only George Liddell will be satisfied not toclaim the money I have spent, I may still be able to keep the boys, forI have nearly a hundred and fifty pounds a year quite my own, " criedKatherine, loosing her hand. "Do not distress yourself, Mr. Errington. Iknow Mr. Newton will do his best for me, and perhaps my cousin will notexact the arrears. He says he is rich, and if I give him no trouble----"she paused, for she could not command her voice, while the tears werealready glittering in her eyes. Another word and they would have beenrolling down her cheeks. 

"Don't cry, for God's sake!" said Errington, in a low tone, resuming hisseat. "What can be done to soften this fellow? Ah! Miss Liddell, we arequits now. If you robbed me, I have ruined you. "

"From what different motives!" said Katherine, recovering herself-control. "_I_ am still the wrong-doer. "

How heavenly sweet it was to be consoled and sympathized with by him!But she dared not stay. It was terribly bold of her to have come to hisrooms, only he would never misjudge her, and she was so little known shescarcely feared recognition by any one she might meet. 

"Could I assist Mr. Newton at all in dealing with this kinsman ofyours?" resumed Errington, gazing at her with a troubled look. 

"I fear you could not. How are you to know anything of my troubles? Noone dreams that you have any knowledge of my affairs; that you and youonly are aware what an impostor I am. "

"You are expiating your offence bitterly. But when the story of thisGeorge Liddell comes out, why should I not, as the son of his father'sold friend, make his acquaintance, and try to persuade him to forego hisfull rights?"

"You might try, " said Katherine, dejectedly. "Now I have trespassed longenough. I must go. I have to explain matters to Miss Payne, and I feelcuriously dazed. Oh, if I can keep the boys!"

"If any effort of mine can help you, it is my duty as well as my sincerepleasure to do all I can. "

"And if the will existed would you have acted on it?"

"Most certainly--in your defence. "

"Ah!" cried Katherine, her eyes lighting up, her tremulous lips partingin a smile. "Then you would have had some of the money too. "

"Then you quite forgive me?" again rising, and coming over to standbeside her. 

"You must feel I do, Mr. Errington. Now I will say good-by. If you canhelp me with George, I shall be most grateful. "

"Promise that you will look on me as one of your most devoted friends. He took her hand again. 

"Can you indeed feel friendship for one you cannot respect?" shereturned, in a low tone, with one of the quick, vivid blushes whichusually rose to her cheek when she was much moved. 

"But I do respect you. Why should I not? A generous, impulsive womanlike you cannot be judged by the cold maxims of exact justice; you mustbe tried by the higher rules of equity. "

"You comfort me, " said Katherine, with indescribably sweet gracefulhumility. "I thank you heartily, and will say good-by. "

"I will come and see you into a cab, " returned Errington, feelinghimself anxious that no one should recognize her, and not knowing whentheir _tete-a-tete_ might be interrupted. 

They went out together, and walked a little way in silence. "You willlet me come and see you, to hear--" began Errington, when Katherineinterrupted him. 

"Not just now. I think we had better not seem to know anything of eachother, or perhaps George Liddell may suspect you of being my friend. "

"I see. But at least you will keep me informed of how things go on. Remember how tormented I am with remorse for my hasty act. "

"You need not be. But I will write. There--there is a cab. "

Errington hailed it, handed her in carefully, and they said good-by witha sudden sense of intimacy which months of ordinary communication wouldnot have produced. 

It was a very serious undertaking to break the intelligence to MissPayne, and poor Katherine felt quite exhausted before her exclamations, questions, and wonderings were half over. 

On one or two points Miss Payne at once made up her mind, nor had sheever quite altered her opinion: This man representing himself as GeorgeLiddell was an impostor who had known the real "Simon Pure, " and gothimself up accordingly as soon as he heard that the late John Liddellhad died intestate; that Mr. Newton was a weak-minded, credulous idiotto acknowledge this impostor at first sight, _if_ he were not adouble-dealing traitor ready to play into the hands of the new claimant. He ought to have thrown the onus of proof on _him_, instead ofacknowledging his identity by that childish exclamation. Don't tell_her_ that he was startled out of prudence and precaution. A spirit fromabove or below would not have thrown her (Miss Payne) off her guardwhere property was concerned, and what was the use of men's superiorstrength and courage if they could not hold their tongues in presence ofan unexpected apparition?

She was, however, profoundly disturbed, and sent at once for herbrother. 

It was evening before he arrived in Wilton Street, having gone outbefore Miss Payne's note reached him. Like Errington, he was at firstincredulous, and when he had gathered the facts of the case, absolutelyovercome. In fact, he showed more emotion than Errington, yet it did notimpress Katherine so much as Errington's deep, suppressed feeling. 

"But what are you to do?" he said, raising his head, which he had bowedon his hand in a kind of despair. 

"It is just the question I have been asking myself, " said Katherine, quietly. "For even if dear old Mr. Newton succeeds in softening GeorgeLiddell, and he forgives me the outlay of what was certainly his money, the little that belongs to myself I shall want for my nephews. "

"And pray is their mother to contribute nothing toward the maintenanceof her children?" asked Miss Payne, severely. 

"Poor Ada! she has nothing of her own; it will be desperately hard onher;" and Katherine sighed deeply. Her hearers little knew the remorsethat afflicted her as she reflected on the false position into which shehad drawn her sister-in-law. What a rage Colonel Ormonde would be in!How unwisely audacious it was in any mere mortal to play Providence forherself or her fellows! But Miss Payne was speaking:

"I don't see the hardship; she has a husband behind her--a rich mantoo. "

"For herself it is all well enough, but it must be very hard to thinkthat one's children are a burden on a reluctant husband; besides, theboys will feel it cruelly. Oh, if I can only keep them with me!"

"I understand you, " cried Bertie. "Would to God you could lay yourburden at His feet who alone can help in time of need. If you could----"

He was interrupted by Francois, who brought a letter just arrived by thelast post. 

"It is from Mr. Newton, " exclaimed Katherine, opening it eagerly. Andhaving read it rapidly, she added, "You would like to hear what he says. "

"'MY DEAR MISS LIDDELL, --As I cannot see you early to-morrow Iwill send you a report. I had a long argument with your cousin after youleft to-day, and although he is still in an unreasonable state ofirritation against you and myself and every one, I do not despair ofbringing him to a better and a juster frame of mind. For the present itwould be as well you did not meet. I should advise your taking steps atonce to remove your nephews from Sandbourne, and also, while you havemoney pay the quarter in advance, as you do not know how matters mayturn. It was a most fortunate circumstance that the house occupied byMiss Trant was purchased in her name, as Mr. Liddell cannot touch that, and if she is at all the woman you suppose her to be, she will pay youinterest for your money. If you could only persuade your cousin to letyou see and make friends with this little daughter of his--_there_ liesthe road to his heart. 

"'Meanwhile say as little as possible to any one about this suddenchange in your fortunes. To Miss Payne you must, of course, explainmatters; but she is a sensible, prudent woman. 

 "'With sincere sympathy, believe me yours most truly, "'W. NEWTON. '"

"There is a gleam of hope, then, " exclaimed Bertie. 

"I don't know what you mean about hope. At best a drop from about twothousand a year to a hundred and fifty is not a subject forcongratulation. --Well, Katherine, you are most welcome to stay here asmy guest till you find something to do, for find something you must. "

"I knew you would be kind and true, " said Katherine, her voice a littletremulous, "and believe me I will not sit with folded hands. "

CHAPTER XXV. 

"BREAD CAST ON THE WATERS. "

There were indeed long and heavy days for Katherine, few though theywere, before Mr. Newton thought it well to communicate the intelligenceto Colonel and Mrs. Ormonde. He wished to be able to extract some morefavorable terms from Liddell, so that his favorite client might fulfilher ardent desire to keep her nephews still with her, and assist intheir maintenance and education. This was, in the shrewd old lawyer'sestimation, a most Quixotic project, but he saw it was the only ideawhich enabled her to bear the extreme distress caused by the prospect ofreturning the poor children on their mother's hands. 

A period of uncertainty is always trying, and the reflection that thepresent crisis was the result of her unfortunate infringement of theunalterable law of right and wrong overwhelmed her with a sense ofguilt. Had she not meddled with the matter, no doubt such a man asErrington would, were the case properly represented to him, have givensome portion of the wealth bequeathed him to the family of the testator. But how could she have foreseen? True; but she might have resisted thetemptation to deviate from the straight path. "She might!" What an abyssof endless regret yawns at the sound of those words, used in the senseof too late!

This was a hard worldly trouble over which she could not weep. Over andover again she told herself that nothing should part her from the boys, that she would devote her life to repair as far as possible the injuryshe had done them. And Ada, would she also suffer for her (Katherine's)sins? But while brooding constantly on these miserable thoughts she kepta brave front, quiet and steady, though Miss Payne saw that hercomposure hid a good deal of suffering. 

It was more, however, than Katherine's resolution could accomplish tokeep a few evening engagements which she had made. "I should feel toogreat an impostor, " she said. "How thankful I shall be when the murderis out and the nine days' wonder over! Have you any commissions, dearMiss Payne? I want an object to take me out, and I feel I must not mopein-doors. "

"No, I cannot say I have any shopping to do, and I am obliged to go intothe City myself. Take a steady round of Kensington Gardens; it is quitemild and bright to-day. I shall not return till six, I am afraid. "

So Katherine went out alone immediately after luncheon, before the worldand his wife had time to get abroad. She had made a circuit of theornamental water, and was returning by the footpath near the sunk fencewhich separates the Gardens from the Park, when she recognized De Burghcoming toward her. He had been in her thoughts at the moment; for, feeling that it was quite likely he had been considered a suitor, shewas anxious to give him an opportunity of making an honorable retreatbefore society found out that the sceptre of wealth had slipped from herhand. 

"Pray is this the way you cure a cold?" he asked, abruptly. "Last nightLady Mary Vincent informed me that you had staid at home to nurse acold. This morning I call to enquire for the interesting invalid, andfind she is out in the cool February air. "

"It is very mild, and it is at night the air is dangerous, " returnedKatherine, smiling. 

"Now I look at you, I don't think you look so blooming as usual. May Igo back with you and pay my visit of condolence, in spite of having leftmy card?"

"Yes, " said Katherine, with sudden decision. "I want to speak to you. "

"Indeed!"--with a keen, eager look. "This is something new. May I ask--"

"No; not until we are in Miss Payne's drawing-room. "

"You alarm me. Could it be possible that you, peerless as you are, havegot into a scrape?"

"Well, I think I can say I have, " said Katherine, smiling. 

"Great heavens! this is delightful. "

"Let us talk of something else. "

"By all means. Will you hear some gossip? I don't often retail any, butI fancy you'll be amused and interested to know that Lady Alice Mordauntis really going to marry that brewer fellow. You remember I told youwhat I thought was going on last autumn. "

"Is it possible?" cried Katherine. "Imagine her so soon forgetting Mr. Errington!"

"And why should not that immaculate individual be exempt from the usualfate of man?"

"I don't know--except that he is not an ordinary man. "

"No; certainly not. He is an extraordinary fellow; but I must say he hasshown great staying power in his late difficulties. They tell me he hasbeen revenging himself by writing awful problems, political andcritical, which require a forty-horse intellectual power to understand. "And De Burgh talked on, seeing that his companion was disinclined tospeak until they reached Miss Payne's house. 

Katherine took off her hat and warm cloak with some deliberation, thinking how best to approach her subject. Pushing back her hair, whichhad become somewhat disordered from its own weight, she sat down on anottoman, and raising her eyes to De Burgh, who stood on the hearth-rug, said, slowly, "I have a secret to tell you which you must keep for a fewweeks. "

"For an eternity, if you will trust me, " he returned, in low, earnesttones, his dark eyes fixed upon her, as if trying to read her heart. 

"Well, then, my uncle's son and heir, whom we believed to be dead, hassuddenly reappeared, and of course takes the fortune I have been, let us_say_, enjoying. "

De Burgh did not reply at once; his eyes continued to search her face asif to discover some hidden meaning. 

"Do you mean me to take you seriously, Miss Liddell?"

"Quite. Moreover, I fear my cousin means to demand the arrears ofincome--income which I have spent. "

"But the fellow must be an impostor. Your man of business, Newton, willnever yield to his demands. He must prove his case. "

"I think he has proved it. Mr. Newton recognized him at the firstglance; and he bears a strong resemblance to his father. I feel he isthe man he asserts himself to be. "

"Do you intend to give up without a struggle? What account does thisintruder give of himself?"

Katherine gave him a brief sketch of the story, speaking with firmnessand composure. 

"What an infernal shame!" cried De Burgh, when she ceased speaking. "Iwish I had had a chance of sending a bullet through his head, and assure as there is a devil down below I'd have verified the report of hisdeath! Why, what is to be done?"

"I still faintly hope Mr. Newton may persuade him to forego his firstdemand for the restoration of those moneys I have spent. If so, I am notquite penniless, and can hope to-- At all events, I thought it but rightto give you early information, as--"

"Why?" interrupted De Burgh (for she hesitated), throwing himself on theottoman and leaning against the arm which divided the seats, till hislong dark mustaches nearly touched the coils of her hair. "Why?" herepeated, as she did not answer immediately. "I know well enough. It isyour loyalty that makes you wish to open a way of escape to the friendwho is credited with seeking your fortune. I see it all. "

"You can assign any motive you like, Mr. De Burgh, but I thought--Iwished--I believed it better to let you know; for I shall alwaysconsider you my friend, even if we do not meet, " said Katherine, a gooddeal unhinged by the excitement and distress he displayed. 

"Meet? why, of course we shall meet! Do you think anything in heaven orearth would make me give up the attempt, hopeless as it may seem, to winyou? I know you don't care a rap for me now, but I cannot, dare notdespair. I've too much at stake. There is the awful sting of thismisfortune. Even if you, by some blessed intervention of Providence, were ready to marry me, I don't see how I could drag you into such a seaof trouble. Besides, there's old De Burgh; he must be kept ingood-humor. By Heaven! this miserable want of money is the most utterdegradation--irresistible, enslaving. I feel like a beaten cur. I amtied hand and foot. Had I not been such a reckless idiot, why, yourmisfortunes might have been my best chance. I dare say that soundsshabby enough, but I like to let you see what I am, good and bad;besides, I am ready to do _anything_, right or wrong, to win you. "

"Ah, Mr. De Burgh, no crookedness ever succeeds. And then I do notdeserve that you should think so much or care so much for me, for I donot wish to marry you or any one. My plan of life is framed on quitedifferent lines. Do put me out of your mind, and think of your ownfortunes. Do not vex Lord De Burgh; but oh! pray give up racing andgambling. You know I really do like you, not exactly in the way youwish, but it adds greatly to my troubles (for I am very sorry to lose myfortune, I assure you) to see you so--so disturbed. "

"If you look at me so kindly with those sweet wet eyes I shall lose myhead, " cried De Burgh, who was already beside himself, for the gulfwhich had suddenly yawned between him and the woman he coveted seemed togrow wider as he looked at it. "I am the most unlucky devil inexistence, and I have brought _you_ ill luck. I should have kept awayfrom you, for you are a hundred thousand times too good for me; but as I_have_ thrown myself headlong into the delicious pain of loving you, won't you give me a chance? Promise to wait for me: a week, a day, maysee me wealthy, and I swear I will strive to be worthy too: why werethose bush-rangers such infernally bad-shots?--and I can be no use toyou whatever?"

"But I have many kind friends, Mr. De Burgh. You must not distressyourself about me. I am not frightened, I assure you. Now I have toldyou everything, don't you think you would better go?" She rose as shespoke, and held out her hand. 

"Better for you, yes, but not for me. Look here, Katherine, don't banishme. I am obliged to go with old De Burgh to Paris. He is making forCannes again, and asked me to come so far. Of course he has a chainround my neck. I must obey orders like his bond-slave, but when I comeback--don't banish me. I swear I'll be an unobtrusive friend, and I maybe of use. Don't send me quite away; in short, I won't take a dismissal. What is it you object to? What absurd stories have been told you to setyou against me? Other women have liked me well enough. "

"I have no doubt you deserve to be loved, Mr. De Burgh, but there arefeelings that, like the wind, blow where they list; we cannot tellwhence they come or whither they go. I am sorry I do not love you, but--I am very tired. If you care to come and see me when you come back, come _if_ I have any place in which to receive you. "

"If I write, will you answer my letters?"

"Oh no; don't write; I would rather you did not. "

"I am a brute to keep you when you look so white; I'll go. Good-by forthe present--only for the present, you dear, sweet woman!" He kissed herhand twice and went quickly out of the room. 

Katherine heaved a sigh of relief. The degree of liking she had for DeBurgh made her feel greatly distressed at having been obliged to givehim pain. Yet she was not by any means disposed to trust him; hisrestless eagerness to gratify every whim and desire as it came to him, the kind of harshness which made him so indifferent to the feelings andopinions of those who opposed him--this was very repellent toKatherine's more considerate and sympathetic nature. Besides, and aboveall, De Burgh was not Errington; and it needs no more to explain why theformer, who had no reason hitherto to complain of the coldness of women, found the only one he had ever loved with a high order of affectionuntouched by his wooing. 

The day after this interview Katherine, accompanied by Miss Payne, wentdown to Sandbourne to interview the principal of the boys' school, toexplain the state of affairs, to give notice that she should be obligedto remove them, and to pay in advance for the time they were to remain. 

The visit was full of both pain and pleasure. The genuine delight of thechildren on seeing her unexpectedly, their joy at being permitted to goout to walk with her, their innocent talk, and the castles in the airwhich they erected in the firm conviction that they were to have horsesand dogs, man-servants and maid-servants, all the days of their lives, touched her heart. The principal gave a good account of both. Cecil was, he said, erratic and excitable in no common degree, but thoughtroublesome, he was truthful and straightforward, while Charlie promisedto develop qualities of no common order. He entered with a very friendlyspirit into the anxiety of the young aunt, whose motherly tenderness forher nephews touched him greatly. He gave her some valuable advice, andthe address of two schools regulated to suit parents of small means, andwhich he could safely recommend. By his suggestion nothing was said forthe present to Cis or Charlie regarding the impending change, lest theyshould be unsettled. 

"And shall we come to stay at Miss Payne's for the Easter holidays?"cried the boys in chorus, as Katherine took leave of them the next day. 

"I hope so, dears, but I am not sure. "

"Then will you come down to Sandbourne? That would be jolly. "

"I cannot promise, Cecil. We will see. "

"But, auntie, we'll not have to go to Castleford?"

"Why? Would you not like to go?"

"No. Would you, Charlie? I don't like being there nearly so much as atschool. I don't like having dinner by ourselves, and yet I don't care todine with Colonel Ormonde; he is always in a wax. "

"He does not mean to be cross, " said Katherine, her heart sinking withinher. Should she be obliged to hand over the poor little helpless fellowsto the reluctant guardianship of their irritable step-father? This wouldindeed be a pang. Was it for this she had broken the law, and marred theharmony of her own moral nature?

"Well, my own dear, I will do the best I can for you, you may be quitesure. Now you must let me go; I will come again as soon as I can. " Ciskissed her heartily, and scampered away to take his place in theclass-room, quite content with his school life. Charlie threw his armsaround his auntie's neck, and clung to her lovingly. But he too wascalled away, and nothing remained for Katherine and her companion but tomake their way to the station and return to town. 

This visit cost Katherine more than any other outcome of GeorgeLiddell's reappearance. Her quick imagination depicted what the boys'lives would be under the jurisdiction of their mother and herhusband--the worries, the suppression, the sense of being always naughtyand in the wrong, the different yet equally pernicious effect suchtreatment would have on the brothers. 

"This is the worst part of the business to you, " said Miss Payne, whenthey had reached home and sat down to a late tea together. "You looklike a ghost, or as if you had seen one. You will make yourself ill, andreally there is no need to do anything of the kind. Those children havea mother who is very well off. I always thought it frightfully imprudentof you to take those boys even when you had plenty of money. Now, ofcourse, when it is impossible for you to keep them, it is a bitterwrench to part, but--"

"But I am not sure that we must part, " interrupted Katherine, eagerly. "Should my cousin be induced to forego his claims upon me for the incomeI have expended, and I can find some means of maintaining myself, Icould still provide for their school expenses and keep them with me. "

"Maintain yourself, my dear Katherine; it is easier said than done. Youare quite infatuated about those nephews of yours, and I dare say theywill give you small thanks. "

"I know it is not easy for an untrained woman like myself to findremunerative work, but I shall try. Here is a note from Mr. Newtonasking me to call on him to-morrow. Let us hope he will have some goodnews, though I cannot help fearing he would have told me in this if hehad. "

It was with a sickening sensation of uneasy hope shot with dark streaksof fear that Katherine started to keep her appointment with Mr. Newton. Eager to begin her economy at once, Katherine took an omnibus instead ofindulging in a brougham or a cab. She could not help smiling at her ownsense of helpless discomfort when a fat woman almost sat down upon her, and the conductor told her to look sharp when the vehicle stopped to lether alight; as she reflected that barely three years ago she consideredan omnibus rather a luxury, and that it was a matter of carefulcalculation how many pennies might be saved by walking to certain pointswhence one could travel at a reduced fare. How easily are luxurious andself-indulgent habits formed! Well, she had done with them forever now;nor would anything seem a hardship were she but permitted to repair insome measure the evil she had wrought. 

She found Mr. Newton awaiting her with evident impatience. "Well, mydear Miss Liddell, " he said, "I have been most anxious to see you, though I have not much that is cheering to communicate. I have hadseveral interviews with your cousin, but he seems still unaccountablyhard and vindictive. However, as I am, of course, _your_ adviser, he hasbeen obliged to seek another solicitor, and I am happy to say he hasfallen into good hands, and that by a sort of lucky chance. "

"How?" asked Katherine, who was looking pale and feeling in the depths. 

"Well, a few days ago a gentleman called here to ask me for the addressof a former client of whom I have heard nothing for years. I think youknow or have met this gentleman--Mr. Errington. "

"I do, " cried Katherine, now all attention. 

"While we were speaking Mr. Liddell was announced. Errington looked athim hard, and then asked politely if he were the son of the late Mr. John Liddell, who had been a great friend of his (Errington's) father. Your cousin seemed to know the name, and, moreover, very pleased atbeing spoken to and remembered. Mr. Errington offered to call, and now Ifind he has recommended his own solicitors, Messrs. Compton & Barnes, toGeorge Liddell. I had an interview with the head of the firm yesterday, and he has evidently advised that the strictly legal claims against youshould not be pressed. I cannot help thinking that Mr. Errington hasinterested himself on your side. "

"Indeed!" cried Katherine, life and warmth coming back to her heart athis words. 

"Yes, I do. Compton appears to have the highest possible opinion ofErrington as a man of integrity and intelligence. He, Compton says, believes that if Liddell could be persuaded such a line of conducttoward you would injure him socially, he would not seek to enforce hisrights, for he is evidently anxious to make a position in therespectable world. As you make no opposition to his claims he ought toshow you consideration. This accidental encounter between Errington andyour cousin will, I am sure, prove a fortunate circumstance. "

In her own mind Katherine could not help doubting its accidentalcharacter. How infinitely good and forgiving Errington was! While shethought, Mr. Newton mused. 

"I suppose you have a tolerable balance at the bank?" he said, abruptly. 

"Yes. I have never spent a year's income in a year. Just lately, exceptfor buying that house, I have spent very little. "

"That house! Oh--ah! I shall be curious to see how Miss Trant willbehave. If she is true to her word; if she looks upon your loan to heras a loan--an investment on your side--you may gain an addition to yourincome through what was an act of pure benevolence. When you go home, mydear young lady, look at your bank-book, and let me know exactly how youstand. We might offer this cormorant of a cousin a portion of yoursavings to finish the business. Indeed I should advise you to draw agood large check at once so as to provide yourself with ready money. "

"Would it be quite--quite honest to do so?" asked Katherine, anxiously. 

"Pray do you impugn my integrity?"

"No! But suppose George Liddell found I had drawn a large check--perhapsthe very day before I propose through you to hand over what remains tome--he would think me a cheat?"

"And pray why should he know anything about your bank-book? or whatconsideration do you owe him? He is behaving very harshly and badly toyou. We will state what is in the bank after you have drawn your check, and offer him half--which is a great deal too much for him. Yet I shouldlike him to be your friend, if possible. Could you get hold of thatlittle girl of his? Affection for her seems to be the only human thingabout him. "

"I think I should rather have nothing to do with him, " murmuredKatherine. 

"Well, well, we will see. Now, though we have not succeeded in coming toany settlement with Liddell, I believe we ought not to leave Mrs. Ormonde any longer in ignorance respecting the change which has takenplace. "

"No, I am sure they ought to know. I have been troubling myself aboutboth the Colonel and Mrs. Ormonde, " said Katherine. "This is what Idread most. " And she sighed. 

"I do not see why you need. I am sure you acted with noble liberality toMrs. Ormonde and her boys when you thought you were the rightful ownerof the property. "

"The rightful owner, " repeated Katherine, with a thrill of pain. "It hasbeen an unfortunate ownership to me. "

"It has--it has indeed, my dear young lady, but we must see how to helpyou at this juncture. If Miss Trant behaves as she ought, we must put alittle more capital in that concern if it is as thriving as you believe. It may turn out very useful to you. "

"I have not seen her since my cousin came to life again, for I could notsee her and keep back my strange story. May I tell her now?"

"Certainly. It was from Colonel and Mrs. Ormonde I wished to keep backthe disastrous news till some agreement should be come to. "

"You must not call my cousin's return to life and country disastrous, "said Katherine, smiling. "I am sure, if he will only give me the chanceof keeping my boys with me, I am quite ready to welcome him to both. NowI shall leave you, for I want to send away my letter to Ada thisevening, and it is a difficult letter to write. "

"I have no doubt you will state your case clearly and well, " returnedMr. Newton, rising to shake hands with her. "Let me hear what Mrs. Ormonde says in reply; and see your protegee, Miss Trant. I am anxiousto learn her views. "

"I am quite sure I know what they will be, " said Katherine. 

"Don't be too sure. Human nature is a very crooked thing--more crookedthan a true heart like yours can imagine, " continued the old man, holding her hand kindly. 

"Ah, Mr. Newton, " she cried, with an irresistible outburst of penitence, "you little know what crooked things I can imagine. "

"Can't I?" he said laughing at what he fancied was her little joke, andglad to see her bearing her troubles so lightly. "You'll come all rightyet, my dear; you have the right spirit. Is your carriage waiting?"

"Not here; but in Holborn I have several at my command, " she returned. "Good-by; no, you must not come downstairs; it is damp and chilly. "

On reaching her home, the home she must so soon resign, Katherine sent anote to Rachel Trant asking if she had a spare hour that evening, asshe, Katherine, had something to tell her, and preferred going to herhouse. Then she sat down to write a full and detailed account of whathad taken place to her sister-in-law. It was dusk before she hadfinished and she herself felt considerably exhausted. Miss Payne hadgone out to dine with one of her former girls, now the wife of a racketyhorsy man, whose conduct made her often look back with a sigh of regretto the tranquil days passed under the guardianship of the prudentspinster; so having partaken of tea at their usual dinner-time she satand mused awhile on the one subject from which she could derivecomfort--Errington and his wonderful kindness to her. If he took thematter in hand she thought herself safe. Her confidence in him wasunbounded. Ah! why had she placed such a gulf between them? How she haddestroyed her own life! There was but one tie between her and the world, little Charlie and Cis, and perhaps she had been their greatest enemy. She almost wished she could love De Burgh. He was undoubtedly inearnest; he interested her; he--But no. Between her and any possiblehusband she had reared the insurmountable barrier of a secret not to beshared by any save one, from whom, somehow, instead of dividing her, hadbound her indissolubly; at least she felt it to be so. 

It was near the hour she had fixed to call on Rachel, so she rousedherself, and asking the amiable Francois to accompany her, started forMalden Street. 

Rachel Trant had made a back parlor, designated the "trying-on" room, bright and cosy, with a shaded lamp, a red fire, a couple of easy-chairsat either side of it, and a gay cloth over the small round table erststrewn with fashion books, measuring tapes, pins, patterns andpin-cushions. 

"How very good of you to come to me!" cried Miss Trant, hastening todivest her friend of bonnet and cloak. "I am very curious to hear thestory you have to tell. " Then, as Katherine sat down where thelamp-light fell upon her face, she added, "But you are not looking well, Miss Liddell; your eyes look heavy; your mouth is sad. "

"I am troubled, more than sad, " said Katherine; "the why and wherefore Ihave come to tell you. "

"Yes; tell me everything. " And Rachel took a low seat opposite herguest; her usually pale face was slightly flushed, her large blue eyesdarkened with the pleasure of seeing the friend she loved so warmly andthe interest with which she awaited her disclosure, and as Katherinelooked at her she realized how pretty and attractive she must have beenbefore the fresh grace of her girlhood had been withered by the cruelfires of passion and despair. "I am listening, " said Rachel, gently, torecall her visitor, whose thoughts were evidently far away. 

"Yes; I had forgotten. " And Katherine began her story. 

Rachel Trant listened with rapt, intense attention, nor did sheinterrupt the narrative by a single question. 

When Katherine ceased to speak she remained silent for a second or twolonger: then she asked, "Are you convinced of the truth of this man'sstory?"

"I am, for Mr. Newton does not seem to have a doubt. Oh! he is my uncleJohn's only son--only child, indeed--and he is like him. I alwaysfancied from the little my uncle said about George that he was naturallykind and sympathetic, but he has had a hard life, and it has made himhard. The loss of his mother was a terrible misfortune. "

"Was he young when she died?"

"He was about fourteen, I think; but he lost her by a worse misfortunethan death. She was driven away by my uncle's severity and harshness;she left him for another. "

"What! left her son?"

"Yes--it seems incredible--nor does my cousin resent her desertion. Onthe contrary, all the affection and softness in him appears to centreround his daughter and the memory of his mother. "

"Then, " said Rachel, "if this man persists in demanding his rights, youwill be beggared, and those dear boys must go back to their mother. Theywill not be too welcome. "

"Oh no! no! I feel that only too keenly. "

"But you will not be penniless nor homeless, " cried Rachel. "He cannottouch this house. You made it over to me, and I will use it for you. There are two nice rooms I can arrange for you upstairs. I am doingwell, and if I had but a little more capital, I should not fear; Ishould not doubt making a great success. My dear, dearest Miss Liddell, I may be of use to you, after all. Tell me, is this Mr. Newton trulyinterested in you--anxious to help you?"

"I am sure he is; he is very unhappy about me. "

"Do you think he would let me call on him? I want to tell him the plansthat are coming into my head. I can explain all the business part tohim. If I can get through this year without debt, I am pretty sure ofproviding you with an income--an increasing income. This is a joy Inever anticipated. And then you can keep your little nephews, and be areal mother to them. I don't want to trouble you with the businessdetails of my plan; you would not understand them. But Mr. Newton will. Pray write a line asking him to see me, to name his own time. Stay; hereare paper and pen and ink; ask him to write to me. He knows--he knows mystory. At least--" She stopped, coloring crimson. 

"He knows all it is needful for me to tell, " said Katherine, gravely. "Yes, Rachel, it is better to explain all to him. He is kind and wise, and I am strangely stupefied by this extraordinary overturn of myfortunes. I shall be glad of your help, but do not neglect your ownfuture, dear Rachel. "

"I shall not: I shall make enough for us both. You have indeed given mesomething to live for. "

CHAPTER XXVI. 

COLONEL AND MRS. ORMONDE. 

The moral effect of feeling in touch with some loyal, tender, sympathizing fellow-creature is immense. It gives faith in one's self--abelief in the possibilities for good hidden in the future; above all, relief from that most paralyzing of mental conditions, a sense ofisolation. 

Katherine walked back alone in the dark. The sooner she accustomedherself to habits of independence the better; for the future she mustlearn to stand alone, to take care of herself, unassisted by maid orflunky. It made her a little nervous; for although in the oldimpecunious days she went on all necessary errands in the morning alone, she rarely left the house after sundown even with a companion. They werevery monotonous days, those which seemed to have fled away so far intothe soft misty gloom of the past. Yet how full of fragrance was theirmemory! The castle-building, the vague bright hopes, the joy of helpingthe dear mother, the utter absolute trust in her, the struggle with thenecessities of life--all were more or less sweet; and now to what an endshe had brought the simple drama of her youth! Had she resisted thatstrange prompting which kept her silent when Mr. Newton began to lookfor the will, how different everything might have been! Errington mightbe well off too, and she might never have seen him. 

With the thought of him came the sudden overpowering wish to hear hisvoice--clear, deliberate, convincing--which sometimes seized her inspite of every effort to banish it from her mind, and of which she wasutterly, profoundly ashamed, the recurrence of which was infinitelypainful. She must fill her heart with other thoughts, other objects. "Life is serious enough (the life which lies before me especially) tocrowd out these follies. Why do I increase its gloom with imaginarytroubles?"

Miss Payne, returning from her dinner, found Katherine sitting up forher, apparently occupied with a book, and in the little confidentialtalk which ensued Katherine told her of Rachel Trant's intention ofconsulting Mr. Newton respecting her plans for increasing her businesswith a view to assisting her benefactress. 

Miss Payne received this communication in silence; but after a moment'sthought observed, in a grave, approving tone; "You have not beendeceived in her, then. I really believe Rachel Trant is a young woman ofprinciple and integrity. "

"Yes, I have always thought so. " Then, after a pause, she resumed: "Iwonder what reply I shall have from Ada to-morrow--no, the day afterto-morrow. "

"Do not worry yourself about it. She will make herself disagreeable, ofcourse; but it is just a trouble to be got through with. Go to bed, mydear; try to sleep and to forget. You are looking fagged and worn. "

But Katherine could not help dwelling upon the picture her imaginationpresented of the morrow's breakfast-time at Castleford; of the dismaywith which her letter would be read; of Ada's tears and ColonelOrmonde's rage; of the torrent of advice which would be poured upon her. Then what decision would Colonel Ormonde come to about the boys? Hewould banish them to some cheap out-of-the-way school. It was impossibleto say what he would do. 

Naturally she did not sleep well or continuously, disturbed as she wasby such thoughts--such uneasy anticipations--and her eyes showed theresults of a bad night when she met Miss Payne in the morning. 

About eleven o'clock Katherine came quickly into Miss Payne's particularsitting-room, where she made up her accounts and studied her bank-book. 

"What is it?" asked that lady, looking up, and perceiving that Katherinewas agitated. 

"A telegram from Ada. They will be here about five this afternoon. "

"Well, never mind. There is nothing in that to scare you. "

"I am not scared, but I wish that interview was over. "

"Yes; I shall be glad when it is; though I shall not obtrude on hisRoyal Highness. (I suppose he is coming as well as she. ) I shall be inthe house, so you can send for me if you want me. "

"Thank you, Miss Payne; you are very good to me. I feel that I ought notto stay here crowding up your house. "

"Nonsense! I am not in such a hurry to find a new inmate. I shall notlike any one as well as you. I wish I could give up and live in a neatlittle cottage, but I cannot. Indeed, if you think I may, I should liketo mention this deplorable change in your fortunes to Mrs. Needham. Sheknows every one, and can bring all sorts of people together if shelikes. "

"By all means, Miss Payne. There is no reason why you should not. "

And after a little more conversation Katherine went back to heroccupation of arranging her belongings and wardrobe, that when themoment of parting came she might be quite ready to go. 

To wait patiently for that which you know will be painful is torture ofno mean order. It was somewhat curtailed for Katherine on that memorableday, for Colonel and Mrs. Ormonde arrived half an hour sooner than sheexpected. 

They had driven direct from the station to Wilton Street, and Katherinesaw at a glance that both were greatly disturbed. 

"Katherine, what is the meaning of your dreadful letter?" cried Mrs. Ormonde, without any previous greeting, while the Colonel barked a gruff"How d'ye do?"

"My letter, Ada, I am sorry to say, meant what it said, " returnedKatherine, sadly. "Do sit down, and let us discuss what is best to bedone. "

"What can be done?" exclaimed Mrs. Ormonde, bursting into tears. 

"For God's sake, don't let us have tears and nonsense, " said ColonelOrmonde, roughly. "Tell me, Katherine, is it possible Newton means togive in to this impostor? Why does he not demand proper proof, and throwthe whole business into chancery?"

"I am sure Mr. Newton could not doubt George Liddell's story. He couldnot go back from his own involuntary recognition, nor could I pretend todoubt what I believe is true. "

"Pooh! that is high-flown bosh. You need not say what you do or do notbelieve. All you have to do is to throw the onus of proof on thisfellow. "

"It is all too dreadful, " said Mrs. Ormonde, in tearful tones. "To thinkthat you will allow yourself to be robbed, and permit the dear boys tobe reduced to beggary, for a mere crochet--it is too bad. I never willbelieve this horrid man is the person he represents himself to be;never. "

"I wish you would go and speak to Mr. Newton. He would explain the follyof resisting. "

"And how do you know that he is not bribed?" returned Mrs. Ormonde, witha little sob. "Every one knows what dreadful wretches lawyers are. Andthough I dare say you meant well, Katherine, but having induced us tobelieve you would provide for the boys, it is a little hard--indeed veryhard--on Colonel Ormonde to have them thrown back on his hands, and itis really your duty to do something to relieve us. "

"Back on my hands!" echoed the Colonel. "I'll not take them back. Whyshould I? I have been completely swindled in the whole business. I amthe last man to support another fellow's brats. Why didn't that oldlawyer of yours ascertain whether your uncle's son was dead or alivebefore he let you pounce upon the property and play Lady Bountiful withwhat did not belong to you?" And Colonel Ormonde paced the room in afury, all chivalrous tradition melting away in the fierce heat ofdisappointed greed. 

"You have no right to find fault with me, " cried Katherine, stung toself-assertion. "I did well and generously by your children andyourself, Ada (I must say so, as you seem to forget it). There is morecause to sympathize with me in the reverse that has befallen me than tothrow the blame of what is inevitable on one who is a greater suffererthan yourselves. Do you not know that the worst pang my bitterestenemy--had I one--could inflict is to feel I must give up the boys?Matters are still unsettled, but if my cousin can be induced to dealmercifully with me, and not absorb my little all to liquidate what islegally due to him, I will gladly keep Cis and Charlie, and give themwhat I have, rather than throw them on Colonel Ormonde's charity. I amdeeply sorry for your disappointment, but I have done nothing toirritate Colonel Ormonde into forgetting what is due to a lady and hiswife's benefactress. " Katherine was thoroughly roused, and stood, headerect, with glowing eyes, and soft red lips curling with disdain. 

"I always said she was violent; didn't' I, Duke?" sobbed Mrs. Ormonde. "Katherine, you do amaze me. "

"There is no denying she is a plucky one, " he returned, with a grufflaugh. "I too deny that you should consider it a misfortune for the boysto come under my care. I owe a duty to my own son, and am not going toplay the generous step-father to his hurt. If you can't come toadvantageous terms with this--this impostor, as I verily believe he is. I'll send the boys to the Bluecoat School or some such institution. Theyhave turned out very good men before this. "

"I am sure we could expect no more from Colonel Ormonde, and when youthink that I shall be entirely dependent on him for"--sob--"my verygowns"--sob--"and--and little outings--and" a total break down. 

"If I am penniless, " said Katherine, controlling her inclination toscream aloud with agony, "I must accept your offer--any offer that willprovide for my nephews. If not, I will devote myself and what I have tothem. I really wish you would go and see Mr. Newton; he will make youunderstand matters better than I can; and as you have come in such aspirit, I should be glad if you would leave me. I cannot look on you asfriends, considering how you have spoken. "

"By George!" interrupted the Colonel, much astonished. "This is givingus the turn-out. "

"What ingratitude!" cried his wife, with pious indignation, as she roseand tied on her veil. 

Her further utterance was arrested, for the door was thrown open, andFrancois announced, "Mr. Errington. "

A great stillness fell upon them as Errington walked in, cool, collected, well dressed, as usual. 

"Very glad to meet you here, Mrs. Ormonde, " he said, when he had shakenhands with Katherine. "Miss Liddell has need of all her friends at sucha crisis. How do, Colonel; you look the incarnation of healthy countrylife. "

"Ah--ah; I'm very well, thank you, " somewhat confusedly. "Just beentrying to persuade Miss Liddell here to dispute this preposterous claim. I don't believe this man is the real thing. "

"I am afraid he is, " gravely; "I know him, for John Liddell was a friendof my father's in early life, and I feel satisfied this man is his son. "

"You do. Well, I shall speak to my own lawyers and Newton about it: onecan't give up everything at the first demand to stand and deliver. "

"No; neither is it wise to throw good money after bad. We were justgoing to Mr. Newton's, so I'll say good-morning. Till to-morrow, Katherine. I'll report what Newton says. "

"Good-morning, Mr. Errington, " said Mrs. Ormonde, pulling herselftogether, and her veil down. "This is a terrible business! I feel it asacutely as if it were myself--I mean my own case. I am sure it is sogood of you to come and see Katherine. I hope you will give us a fewdays at Castleford. " So murmuring and with a painful smile, she hasteneddownstairs after her husband. 

Then Errington closed the door and returned to where Katherine stood, white and trembling, in the middle of the room. "I am afraid yourkinsfolk have been but Job's comforters, " he said, looking earnestlyinto her eyes, his own so grave and compassionate that her heart grewcalmer under their gaze. "You are greatly disturbed. "

"They have been very cruel, " she murmured. "Yet, not knowing all you do, they could not know how cruel. They are so angry because what I tried todo for the boys proved a failure. They little dream how guilty I feelfor having created this confusion. If I am obliged to give up Cis andCharlie to--to Colonel Ormonde, their lot will be a miserable one!" Shespoke brokenly, and her eyes brimmed over, the drops hanging on her longlashes. 

"Sit down, Miss Liddell. I am deeply grieved to see you so depressed. Ihave ventured to call because I have a pin's point of hope for you, which I trust will excuse me for presenting myself, as I know you wouldrather not see me. "

"To-day I am glad to see you. I should always be glad to see youbut--but for my own conscience. Do not misunderstand me. " With a suddenimpulse she stretched out her fair soft hand to him. He took and heldit, wondering to find that although so cold when first he touched it, itgrew quickly warm in his grasp. 

"Thank you, " he said, gently, and still held her hand; "you give meinfinite pleasure. Now"--releasing her--"for my excuse. Among my poorfather's papers were a few letters of very old date from John Liddell, in which was occasional mention of his boy. It struck me these might bea _modus operandi_, and enable me approach a difficult subject. Icontrived to meet your cousin at Mr. Newton's, and he permitted me tocall. I gave him the letters, and we became--not friends--but friendlyat least. " Here his face brightened. "We began to talk of you, and I sawthat he was bitter and vindictive against you to an extraordinarydegree. He grew communicative, and I was able to represent to him thecruelty and unreasonableness of his conduct. At last--only to-day--hesuddenly exclaimed, 'How much of my money has that nice young lady madeaway with?' I could not, of course, give him any particulars, but havinglearned from himself that he had amassed a good deal of money himself, and that with the addition of _your_ fortune (I cannot help calling ityours) he would really be a man of wealth, I ventured to suggest that heshould not demand the refunding of what you had used while in possessionof the property, and showed him what a bad impression it would create inthe minds of those among whom he evidently wishes to make a place forhimself. He thought for a few moments, and then said he would considerthe matter and consult his legal advisers before coming to a decision, adding that he did not understand how it was that they as well as myselfwere on your side. Then I left him, and I feel a strong impression thathe will lay aside his worst intentions. I only trust he will sparewhatever balance may stand to your credit with your banker. "

"You have indeed done me a great service, " cried Katherine, "If GeorgeLiddell does as you suggest I shall not be afraid to face the future. Ishall surely be able to find some employment myself; then I need notimportune Colonel Ormonde for my nephews. "

"He will surely not leave them without means, " cried Errington. 

"I am not sure. They have no legal claim upon him, and he is very angrywith me for causing such confusion, though--"

--"Though, " interrupted Errington, "your only error wasover-generosity. "

"My _only_ error, Mr. Errington!"--casting down her eyes and interlacingher fingers nervously. "If he only knew!"

"But he does not; he never shall!" exclaimed Errington, with animation, drawing unconsciously nearer. "That is a secret between you and me. Noneshall ever know our secret. All I ask is that you will forgive me for myunfortunate precipitancy in destroying the means of saving you, whichyou had placed in my hands--that you will forgive me, and let me be yourfriend. It is so painful to see you shrink from me as you do. "

"Can you wonder, guilty as I feel myself to be? But if you so faroverlook my evil deeds as to think me worth your friendship, I am gladand grateful to accept it. As to forgiveness, what have I toforgive?--your haste to save me from the possibility of discovery?"

"Then, " said Errington, who had gazed for a moment in silence on hiscompanion, whose face was slightly turned from him, every line of herpliant figure, from the graceful drooping head to the point of her shoepeeping from under her soft gray dress, expressed a sort of pathetichumility, "will you give me some idea of your plans, if you have any?"

"They are very vague. I have a small income apart from my uncle'sproperty. I earnestly hope it will be enough to educate the boys. Then Imust try to find employment--something that will enable me to providefor myself. Miss Payne is already looking out for me. That is all I canthink of. "

"It is a tremendous undertaking for a young girl like you, " saidErrington, looking down in deep thought. "But I think I understand thatthe cruelest trial of all would be to part with the boys. Still it isnot wise to allow Mrs. Ormonde to thrust her sons on you, though I nevercan believe that Ormonde could act so dastardly a part as to refuse todo his part in maintaining them. There, again, the fear of what societywould say will do more than a sense of justice or honor. I don't believeOrmonde will dare refuse to contribute his quota to the support of hiswife's sons. "

"Perhaps not. I wish I could do without it. But though Ada was harsh andunreasonable to-day, I am sorry for her. It must be dreadful to be tiedto a man who looks on you as a burden. "

"She will manage him. Their natures are admirably suited. Neither is tooexalted. And Mrs. Ormonde has established herself very firmly asmistress of Castleford and the Colonel. "

"I hope so. " There was a short silence. Then Errington said, in a lowtone, looking kindly into her face, "I trust you do not feel toodespondent as regards the future. "

"Far from it, " returned Katherine, with a brief bright smile. "If onlyI can bring up my dear boys without too great privations, and fit themto work their way in life! From my short experience I should say thatriches can buy little true happiness. Extreme poverty is terrible anddegrading. Nor can money alone confer any true joys. "

"So I have found, " said Errington, thoughtfully; "and I can see that toyou too the finery and distractions which wealth gathers together aremere dust heaps. "

There was a pause, broken by the appearance of Miss Payne, who had onlyjust discovered that Colonel and Mrs. Ormonde had left, and was notaware that Katherine had another visitor. After a little further andsomewhat desultory conversation Errington took leave; nor was Katherinesorry, for the presence of Miss Payne seemed to have set them as farapart as ever, and how near they had drawn for a few moments!

"So that is Mr. Errington!" said Miss Payne, when the door had closedupon him. "He has never been here before?" The tone was interrogative. 

"Mr. Errington has some acquaintance with George Liddell, " returnedKatherine, "and has very kindly done his best to dissuade him fromclaiming the money I have expended. "

"How very good of him! I am sure I trust he will succeed!" exclaimedMiss Payne. "Now tell me how did Colonel Ormonde and your sister-in-lawbehave?"

Whereupon Katherine recounted all that had been said. Many and cynicalwere Miss Payne's remarks on the occasion, but Katherine scarcely heardher. That Errington should take so deep an interest in her, shouldpersist in wishing to be her friend, was infinitely sweet and consoling. He was transparently true, and she did not doubt for a moment that hewas sincere in all he said. Still she could not forget the sense ofhumiliation his presence always inflicted. It was always delightful tospeak to him, and to hear him speak. What would she not give to be ableto stand upright before him and dare to assert herself? How silent anddull and commonplace she must appear! not a bit natural or--She wouldthink no more of him. Why was his face ever before her eyes? She wouldnot be haunted in that way. 

Here Bertie Payne's entrance created a diversion, which was mostwelcome. He was looking white and ill, as though suffering from somemental strain, Katherine observed, and then remembered that he had beenvery silent and grave of late; but he replied cheerfully to herinquiries, and exerted himself to do the agreeable during dinner, forwhich he staid. 

Katherine almost hoped for a summons from Mr. Newton next day, also forsome communication from Mrs. Ormonde, but none reached her. Still shepossessed her soul in patience, fortified by the recollection of herinterview with her new friend. 

It was wet, and Katherine did not venture out, having a slight cold. Shetried to read, to write, to play, but she could not give her attentionto anything. It was an anxious crisis of her fate, and the sense of herisolation pressed upon her more heavily than ever. She really had nofamily ties. Friends were kind, but she had no claim on them or they onher. Colonel and Mrs. Ormonde had ceased to exist for her. How would herfuture life be colored? From consecutive thought she passed to vaguereverie, from which she was glad to be roused by the return of MissPayne, who never staid in for any weather. 

"Where do you think I have been?" asked Miss Payne, untying her bonnetstrings as she sat down. 

"How can I guess? Your wanderings are various. "

"I went to see Mrs. Needham, and I am very glad I did. I found her justbursting with curiosity. All sorts of reports have got about respectingyour cousin and your loss of fortune, and she was enchanted to get thewhole truth from me. Besides, she has just been applied to by thefriends of a girl only sixteen to find a proper chaperon. She is full ofenthusiasm about us both, and begged me, and you too, to dine with herthe day after to-morrow to meet a Miss Bradley, the relative or friendof the sixteen-year-old. We are to look at each other, and are supposedto be in total ignorance of each other's identity. Mrs. Needham delightsin small plots and transparent mysteries. "

"And why am I to go?" asked Katherine, carelessly. 

"To make a fourth, and talk to the hostess while I discourse with MissBradley. "

"Very well; I will come. "

"Any further news to-day?"

"Not a word; not a line. "

CHAPTER XXVII. 

A DINNER AT MRS. NEEDHAM'S. 

Mrs. Needham was a very important at personage in her own estimation, and very popular with a large circle of acquaintances. Most of themthought she was a widow, and only a few old friends were aware that awayin a distant colony Needham masculine was hiding his diminished headfrom creditors of various kinds and penalties of many descriptions, notin penitence, but with as much of enjoyment as could be extracted fromthe simple materials of antipodean life. Having taken with him all thecash he could lay hands upon, his deserted wife was left to do battlealone on a small income which was her own, and fortunately secured toher on her marriage. 

She was much too energetic to sit still when she might work and earnmoney. The editor of a provincial paper, a friend of early days, gaveher space in his columns for a weekly letter, and an introduction to aLondon _confrere_. On this slender foundation she built her humblefortunes. There were, in truth, few happier women in London. Brimful ofinterest in all the undertakings (and their name was legion) in whichshe was concerned, kind and unselfish, though quite free from sentiment, her life was full of movement and color. She had an enormous capacityfor absorbing the marvellous, quite uninfluenced by the naturalshrewdness with which she acted in all ordinary matters. In a brightsurface way she was clever and full of ideas--ideas which others took upand fructified--from which Mrs. Needham herself derived no benefitbeyond the pleasure of imparting them. She was constantly taken in bybarefaced impostors, yet at times, and in an accidental way, hit onwonderfully accurate estimates of persons whom the general publiccredited with widely different qualities. 

She had a nice little old-fashioned house in Kensington, with a prettygarden, just large enough to allow of visitors being well wet in rainyweather between the garden gate and the hall door. This diminutivemansion was crammed with curios, specimens of china, of carved wood, ofJapanese lacquer--these much rarer than at present. It was a pleasantabode withal; a kindly, generous, happy-go-lucky spirit pervaded it. Fewcoming to seek help there were sent empty away, and the owner's earnestconsideration was ready for all who sought her advice. It was real joyto her to entertain her friends in an easy, unceremonious way, and herfriends were equally pleased to accept her hospitality. 

On the present occasion Mrs. Needham was deeply interested in herexpected guests. Katherine Liddell had pleased her from the first, practical and unsentimental as she was. She was disposed to weave alittle romance round the bright sympathetic girl, who listened sograciously to her schemes and projects, whose brightness had under it astrain of tender sadness, which gave an indescribable subtle charm toher manner. Miss Payne she had known more or less for a considerabletime, and regarded as a worthy, useful woman; while her third guest wasthe only child of the wealthy publisher George Bradley, the owner ofthat new and flourishing publication, _The Piccadilly Review_, whereinthose brilliant articles on "Our Colonial System, " "Modern EuropeanPolitics, " etc. , supposed to be from the pen of Miles Errington, appeared. 

"A _partie carree_ of ladies does not seem to promise much, " said Mrs. Needham, when she had greeted Miss Payne and "her young friend, " intowhich position Katherine had sunk; "but unless I could have three orfour men it is better to have none; besides we want to talk of business, and men under such circumstances always exclude us, so I don't see whywe should admit them. Miss Bradley--Miss Payne, Miss Liddell, of whomyou have heard me speak. "

Miss Bradley rose from the sofa, where she was half reclining beside abright wood fire, a tall stately figure in a long pale blue plush dress, cut low in front, and tied loosely with a knot of blue satin ribbon, nestling among the rich yellow white lace which fell from the edge ofthe bodice. She was extremely fair, even colorless, with abundant butsomewhat sandy hair. Her features were regular and marked, a well-shapedhead was gracefully set on a firm white column-like throat, and her eyeswere clear and cold when in repose, but darkened and lit up whenspeaking of whatever roused and interested her. Indeed, she lookedstrong and stern when silent. 

"I am very pleased to meet you, " she said, in a full, pleasant voice. "I have often heard of you from Mrs. Needham, and I think you know afriend of mine--Mr. Errington. "

"Yes; I know him, " returned Katherine, feeling her face aflame. 

"I have heard of you too, " continued Miss Bradley, addressing MissPayne, "from several mutual friends, though we have never happened tomeet before. I think you had just left Rome with Miss Jennings when Iarrived there some four years ago. "

"I had; and remember you were expected there. "

"Miss Jennings married a relation of mine, and I see her very often, atleast often for London. She really looks younger, if possible, thanformerly, " etc. , etc. , and their talk flowed in the Jennings channel fora few minutes. 

Meantime Mrs. Needham, passing her arm through Katherine's, led her awayto a very diminutive back room, draped and carpeted with Orientalstuffs, then beginning to be the fashion, and crammed with allimaginable ornaments and specimens, from bits of rare "Capo di monti" tofunny sixpenny toys. "I have just found such a treasure, " she exclaimed;"a real saucer of old Chelsea, and only a small bit out of this side. Isn't Angela Bradley handsome? She is a very remarkable girl, or perhapsI ought to say woman. She speaks four or five languages, and playsdivinely; then she is a capital critic. It was she who advised herfather to publish that very singular book, _The Gorgon's Head_; everypublisher in London had refused it. He took it, and has cleared--oh, I'dbe afraid to say how much money by it. "

"I hope the writer got a fair share, " said Katherine, smiling. 

"Hum! ah, that's another matter; but I dare say Bradley will treat himquite as fairly as any one else. She will have a big fortune one ofthese days. Her father perfectly adores her. "

"I wish I could write, " said Katherine, with a sigh. "It must be acharming way to earn money. "

"Why don't you try? You seem to me to have plenty of brains; and Isuppose you will have to do something. I was so sorry--" Mrs. Needhamwas beginning, when dinner was announced, and her sympathetic utteranceswere cut short. 

The repast was admirable, erring perhaps on the side of plenteousness, and well served by two smart young women in black, with pink ribbons intheir caps. Nor was there any lack of bright talk a good deal beyond theaverage. Miss Bradley was an admirable listener, and often by well-putquestions or suggestions kept the ball rolling. Dinner was soon over, and coffee was served in the drawing-room. 

"Now, Miss Payne, I should like to consult with you, " said Miss Bradley, putting her cup on the mantel-piece, and resuming her seat on the sofa, where she invited Miss Payne by a gesture to sit beside her, "about thedaughter of an old friend of mine, who does not want her to join him inIndia, as she is rather delicate, and he cannot retire for a couple ofyears. It is time she left school, and the question is, where shall shego?"

While Miss Bradley thus attacked the subject uppermost in her mind, Mrs. Needham settled herself in an arm-chair as far as she could from thespeakers, and asked Katherine to sit down beside her. 

"Let them discuss their business without us, " she said, "and I want totalk to you. Here, these are some rather interesting photographs. Theyare all actors or singers on this side; you'll observe the shape of theheads, the contour generally; these are politicians, and have quite adifferent aspect. Remarkable, isn't it? But I was just saying when wewent down to dinner that I was awfully sorry to hear of all yourtroubles--of course we must not regret that the man is alive; though ifhe is a cross-grained creature, as he seems to be, life won't be muchgood to him--and I shall be greatly interested if you care to tell mewhat your plans are. "

"I really have none. There are several things I could do pretty well. Icould teach music and languages, but it is so difficult to find pupils. Then I am still in great uncertainty as to what my cousin may do. "

"He is a greedy savage, " said Mrs. Needham, emphatically; "but he willnot dare to demand the arrears. He would raise a howl of execration bysuch conduct. Now, as you have nothing settled, and if Angela Bradleyand Miss Payne make it up, you will have to leave where you are. Supposeyou come to me?"

"To you? My dear Mrs. Needham, it would be delightful. "

"Would it? It is not a very magnificent appointment, I assure you. Yousee, I have so much to do that I really _must_ have help. I had a girlfor three or four months. I gave her twenty-five pounds a year, andthought she would be a great comfort, but she made a mess of my room andmy papers, and could not write a decent letter; besides, she wasdiscontented, so she left me, and I have been in a horrid muddle for thelast fortnight. Now if you like to come to me, while you are looking outfor something better, I am sure I shall be charmed, and will do all Ican to push you. It's a miserable sort of engagement, but there it is;only I'll want you to come as soon as you can, for there are heaps todo. "

"Indeed I am delighted to be your help, or secretary, or whatever youchoose to call me, and as for looking for something better, if I canonly save enough to provide for the boys, I would rather work with youfor twenty-five pounds a year than any one else for--"

"For five hundred?" put in Mrs. Needham, with an indulgent smile, as shepaused. 

"No, no. Five hundred a year is not to be lightly rejected, " returnedKatherine, laughing. "But as I greatly doubt that I could ever be worthfive hundred a year to any one, I gladly accept twenty-five. "

"Remember, I do not expect you to stay an hour after you find somethingbetter. Now do me tell how matters stand with you. "

Katherine therefore unbosomed herself, and among other things told howwell and faithfully Rachel Trant had behaved toward her, of the fatherlykindness shown her by her old lawyer, and wound up by declaring that theworld could not be so bad a place as it is reckoned, seeing that in herreverse of fortune she had found so much consideration. "Of course, " sheconcluded, "there are heaps of people who, once I drop from the ranks ofthose who can enjoy and spend, will forget my existence; but I have noright to expect more. They only want playfellows, not friends, and askno more than they give. "

"Quite true, my young philosopher. Tell me, can you come onSaturday--come to stay?"

"I fear not. Besides I have a superstition about entering on a new abodeon Saturday. Don't laugh! But I will come to-morrow, if you like, andwrite and copy for you. I will come each day till Monday next, and sohelp you to clear up. "

"That is a good child! I wish I could make it worth your while to stay;but we don't know what silver lining is behind the dark clouds of thepresent. "

Katherine shook her head. Mrs. Needham's suggestion showed her thatpeace and a relieved conscience was the highest degree of silverybrightness she anticipated in the future. One thing alone could restoreto her the joyousness of her early days, and that was far away out ofher reach. 

"Mr. Errington and Mr. Payne, " said one of the smart servants, throwingopen the door. 

"Ah, yes! Mr. Errington, _of_ course, " exclaimed Mrs. Needham, under herbreath. "I might have expected him. And you too, Mr. Payne?" she addedaloud. "Very glad to see you both. "

As soon as they had paid their respects to the hostess, Errington spoketo Katherine, while Payne remained talking with Mrs. Needham. 

"I am glad to see you looking better than when we last spoke together, "said Errington, pausing beside Katherine's chair. "Have you had anycommunication from Newton yet?"

"I have heard nothing from him, and feel very anxious to know GeorgeLiddell's decision. I had a note from Mrs. Ormonde, written in a muchmore friendly spirit than I had expected, but still in despair. She, with the Colonel, had been to demand explanations from Mr. Newton, anddo not seem much cheered by the interview. "

"No doubt the appearance of your cousin was a tremendous blow, but theyhave no right to complain. "

"However that may be, I will not quarrel with the boys' mother, in spiteof her unkindness. I fear so much to create any barrier between us. "

"Those children are very dear to you, " said Errington, looking down onher with a soft expression and lingering glance. 

"They are. I don't suppose you could understand how dear. "

"Why? Do you think me incapable of human affection?" asked Errington, smiling. 

"No, certainly not; only I imagine justice is more natural to you thanlove, though you can be generous, as I know. "

Errington did not answer. He stood still, as if some new train ofthought had been suddenly suggested to him, and Katherine waitedserenely for his next words, when Miss Bradley, who had not interruptedher conversation, or noticed the new-comers in any way, suddenly turnedher face toward them, and said, with something like command, "Mr. Errington!"

Errington immediately obeyed. Katherine watched them speaking togetherfor some minutes with a curious sense of discomfort and dissatisfaction. Miss Bradley's face looked softer and brighter, and a sort of animationcame into her gestures, slight and dignified though they were. Theyseemed to have much to say, and said it with a certain amount ofwell-bred familiarity. Yes, they were evidently friends; very naturally. How happy she was to be thus free from any painful consciousness in hispresence! She was as stainless as himself, could look fearlessly in hiseyes and assert herself, while she (Katherine) could only crouch inprofoundest humility, and gratefully gather what crumbs of kindness andnotice he let fall for her benefit. It was quite pitiable to be easilydisturbed by such insignificant circumstances. How pitiably weak shewas! So, with an effort, she turned her attention to Mrs. Needham andBertie, who had slipped into an argument, as they often did, respectingthe best and most effective method of dealing with the poor. In thisKatherine joined with somewhat languid interest, quite aware thatErrington and Miss Bradley grew more and more absorbed in theirconversation, till Miss Payne, feeling herself _de trop_, left her placeto speak with Mrs. Needham, while Katherine and Bertie gradually droppedinto silence. 

"Miss Bradley's carriage, " was soon announced, and she rose tall andstately, nearly as tall as Errington. 

"Will you excuse me for running away so soon, dear Mrs. Needham?" shesaid, "but I promised Mrs. Julian Starner to go to her musical partyto-night. I am to play the opening piece of the second part, so I darenot stay longer. You are going?"--to Errington, who bowed assent. "ThenI can give you a seat in my brougham, " she continued, with calm, assuredserenity. 

"Thank you, " and Errington, turning to Katherine, said quickly: "Willyou let me know when you hear from Newton? I am most anxious as regardsLiddell's decision. "

"I will, certainly. Good-night. " She put her hand into his, and felt insome occult manner comfort by the gentle pressure with which he held itfor half a moment. Yes, beaten, defeated, punished as she was, he feltfor her with a noble compassion. Ought not that to be enough?

"Good-night, Miss Liddell. I hope you will come and see me. I am alwaysat home on Tuesday afternoons; and Miss Payne, when I have seen thegrandmother of the girl we have been speaking about, I will let youknow, and you will kindly take into consideration the points Imentioned. Good-night. " And she swept away, leaning on Errington's arm. 

"Now that we are by ourselves, " said Mrs. Needham, comfortably, "I musttell you what I have been proposing to Miss Liddell. I should like youto know all about it, " and she plunged into the subject. "I know it isbut a poor offer, " she concluded; "but for the present it is better thannothing, and she can be on the lookout for something else. "

Bertie wisely held his tongue. Katherine declared herself ready andwilling to accept the offer, and Miss Payne, with resolute candor, declared that the remuneration was miserable, but that it was as well tobe doing something while waiting for a better appointment. 

Poor Katherine was terribly distressed by this frankness, but Mrs. Needham was quite unmoved. She said she saw the force of what MissPayne said, but there it was, and it remained with Miss Liddell to takeor leave what she suggested. 

Then Miss Payne's prospects came under discussion, and the doubtfulcircumstances connected with Miss Bradley's proposition. 

"Now it is long past ten o'clock, and we must say good-night, " remarkedMiss Payne. "Really, Mrs. Needham, you are a wonderful woman! You havenearly 'placed' us both. How earnestly I hope there are better andbrighter days before my young friend, whom I shall miss very much!"

"That I am quite sure. Well, she can go and see you as often as youlike. Now tell me, isn't Angela Bradley a splendid creature?"

"She is indeed, " murmured Katherine. 

"Well, there is a good deal of her, " said Miss Payne, with a sniff. 

"Not too much for Mr. Errington, I think, " exclaimed Mrs. Needham with aknowing smile. "I fancy that will be a match before the season is over. It will be a capital thing for Errington. Old Bradley is _im_-menselyrich, and I am sure Errington is far gone. Well, good-night, my dearMiss Payne. I am so glad to think I shall have Miss Liddell for a littlewhile, at all events. You will come the day after to-morrow at ten, won't you, and help me to regulate some of my papers? Good-night, mydear, good-night. "

Mr. Newton came into his office the afternoon the day following Mrs. Needham's little dinner. His step was alert and his head erect, asthough he was satisfied with himself and the world. A boy who sat in abox near the door, to make a note of the flies walking into the spider'sparlor, darted out, saying, "Please sir, Miss Liddell is waiting foryou. "

"Is she? Very well. " And the old lawyer went quickly along the passageleading to the other rooms, and opening the door of his own, foundKatherine sitting by the table, a newspaper, which had evidently droppedfrom her hand, lying by her on the carpet. She started up to meet hergood friend, who was struck by her pallor and the sad look in her eyes. 

"Well, this is lucky!" exclaimed Newton, shaking hands with hercordially. "I was going to write to you, as I wanted to see you, andhere you are. "

"I was just beginning to fear I might be troublesome, but I have been soanxious. "

"Of course you have. And you have been very patient, on the whole. Well"--laying aside his hat, and rubbing his hands as he sat down--"Ihave just come from consulting with Messrs. Compton, and I am very happyto tell you it is agreed that George Liddell shall withdraw his claim tothe arrears of income, but not to the savings you have effected sinceyour succession to the property, also the balance standing to your nameat your banker's is not to be interfered with; so I think things arearranging themselves more favorably, on the whole, than I could havehoped. "

"They are, indeed, " cried Katherine, clasping her hands together inthankfulness. "What an immense relief! I have more than three hundredpounds in the bank, and I have found employment for the present atleast, so I can use my little income for the boys. How can I thank you, dear Mr. Newton, for all the trouble you have taken for me?" And shetook his hard, wrinkled hand, pressing it between both hers, and lookingwith sweet loving eyes into his. 

"I am sure I was quite ready to take any trouble for you, my dear younglady; but in this matter Mr. Errington has done most of the work. He hasgained a surprising degree of influence over your cousin, who is a verycurious customer; but for him (Mr. Errington, I mean), I fear he wouldhave insisted on his full rights, which would have been a bad business. However, that is over now. Nor will Mr. Liddell fare badly. Your savingshave added close on three thousand pounds to the property which falls tohim. I am surprised that he did not try at once to make friends withyou, for his little girl's sake. I hear he is in treaty for a grandmansion in one of the new streets they are building over at SouthKensington. He is tremendously fond of this little girl of his. It seemsLiddell was awfully cut up at the death of his wife, about a year and ahalf ago. He fancies that if he had known of his father's death and hisown succession he would have come home, and the voyage would have savedher life. This, I rather think, was at the root of his rancor againstyou. "

"How unjust! how unreasonable!" cried Katherine. "Now tell me of yourinterview with Mrs. Ormonde and her husband. "

"Well--ah--it was not a very agreeable half-hour. I have seldom seen sobarefaced an exhibition of selfishness. However, I think I brought themto their senses, certainly Mrs. Ormonde, and I am determined to makethat fellow Ormonde pay something toward the education of his wife'ssons. "

"I would rather not have it, " said Katherine. 

"Nonsense, " cried the lawyer, sharply. "You or they are entitled to it, and you shall have it. Mrs. Ormonde evidently does not want to quarrelwith you, nor is it well for the boys' sake to be at loggerheads withtheir mother. "

"No, certainly not; but, Mr. Newton, I can never be the same to heragain. I never can forgive her or her husband's ingratitude and want offeeling. "

"Of course not, and they know you will not; still, an open split is tobe avoided. Now, tell me, what is the employment you mentioned?"

Katherine told him, and a long confidential conversation ensued, whereinshe explained her views and intentions, and listened to her old friend'sgood advice. Certain communication to Mrs. Ormonde were decided on, asKatherine agreed with Mr. Newton that she should have no furtherpersonal intercourse concerning business matters with her sister-in-law. 

"By-the-way, " said Newton, "one of the events of the last few days was avisit from your protegee, Miss Trant. I was a good deal struck with her. She is a pretty, delicate-looking girl, yet she's as hard as nails, anda first-rate woman of business. She seems determined to make yourfortune, for that is just the human touch about her that interested me. She doesn't talk about it, but her profound gratitude to you isevidently her ruling motive. I am so persuaded that she will develop agood business, and that you will ultimately get a high percentage forthe money you have advanced--or, as you thought, almost given--that I amgoing to trust her with a little of mine, just to keep the concern freeof debt till it is safely floated. "

"How very good of you!" cried Katherine. "And what a proof of your faithin my friend! How can you call her hard? To me she is most sympathetic. "

"Ay, to you. Then you see she seems to have devoted herself to you. Tome she turned a very hard bit of her shell. No matter. I think she isthe sort of woman to succeed. You have not seen her since--since hervisit to me?"

"No. I have not been to see her because--not because I was busy, butidle and depressed. I will not be so any more. So many friends have beentrue and helpful to me that I should be ashamed of feeling depressed. Iwill endeavor to prove myself a first-rate secretary, and be a credit toyou, my dear good friend. "

"That you will always be, I'm sure, " returned Newton, warmly. 

"Now you must run away, my dear young lady, for I have fifty things todo. Your friend Miss Trant will tell you all that passed between us, andwhat her plans are. "

"I am going to pay her a visit this evening. I do not like to troubleher either in the morning or afternoon, she is so busy. But I alwaysenjoy a talk with her. She is really very well informed, and ratheroriginal. "

"I believe she will turn out well. Good-by, my dear Miss Liddell. Iassure you, you are not more relieved by the result of the morning'sconsultation than I am. "

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

KATHERINE IN OFFICE. 

The beginning of a new life is rarely agreeable, and when the newnessconsists of poverty in place of riches, of service instead of completefreedom, occupations not particularly congenial instead of the exerciseof unfettered choice, in such matters--why, the contrast is rathertrying. 

A fortnight after the interview just described, Katherine was thoroughlysettled with Mrs. Needham. 

Although she justly considered herself most fortunate in finding a homeso easily, with so pleasant and kindly a patroness, she would have beenmore or less than human had she not felt the change which had befallenher. Mrs. Ormonde's conduct, too, had wounded her, more than it ought, perhaps, for she always knew her sister-in-law to be shallow andselfish, but not to the degree which she had lately betrayed. 

Her constant prayer was that she should be spared the torture of havingto give up her dear boys to such a mother and such a step-father. Shethought she saw little, loving, delicate Charlie shrinking into himself, and withering under the contemptuous indifference neglect of theCastleford household; and Cis--bolder and stronger--hardening intodefiance or deceit under the same influence. 

By the sort of agreement arrived at between Mr. Newton and Mrs. Ormonde, it was decided that so long as Katherine provided for the maintenance ofher nephews, their mother was only entitled to have them with her duringthe Christmas holidays; and Colonel Ormonde was with some difficultypersuaded to allow the munificent sum of thirty pounds a year toward theeducation of his step-sons. 

This definite settlement was a great relief to Katherine's heart. Howearnestly she resolved to keep herself on her infinitesimal stipend, andsave every other penny for her boys! Of the trouble before her, inremoving them from Sandbourne to some inferior, because cheaper, school, she would not think. Sufficient to the day was the evil thereof. 

She therefore applied herself diligently to her duties. These werevaried, though somewhat mechanical. 

Mrs. Needham's particular den was a very comfortable, well-furnishedroom at the back of the house, crowded with books and newspapers, andprospectuses, magazines, and all possible impedimenta of journalism, onthe outer edge of which women were beginning with faltering footstepstentatively to tread. Mrs. Needham not only wrote "provincial letters"(with a difference!), but contributed social and statistical papers toseveral of the leading periodicals; and one of Katherine's duties was towrite out her rough notes, and make extracts from the books, Blue andothers, the reports and papers which Mrs. Needham had marked. Then therewere lots of letters to be answered and MSS. To be corrected. 

Besides these, Mrs. Needham asked Katherine as a favor to help her inher house-keeping, as it was a thing she hated; "and whatever you do, "was her concluding instructions, "do not see too much of cook's doings. She is a clever woman, and after all that can be said about the feast ofreason, the success of my little dinners depends on _her_. I don't thinkshe takes things, but she is a little reckless, and I never could keepaccounts. "

Katherine therefore found her time fully filled. This, however, kept herfrom thinking too much, and her kind chief was pleased with all she did. Her mind was tolerable at rest about the boys, her friends stuckgallantly to her through the shipwreck of her fortune, and yet her heartwas heavy. She could not look forward with hope, or back without pain. She dared not even let herself think freely, for she well knew the causeof her depression, and had vowed to herself to master it, to hide itaway, and never allow her mental vision to dwell upon it. Work, andinterest--enforced, almost feverish interest--in outside matters, werethe only weapons with which she could fight the gnawing, aching pain ofceaseless regret that wore her heart. How insignificant is the loss offortune, and all that fortune brings, compared to the opening of animpassable gulf between one's self and what has grown dearer than self, by that magic, inexplicable force of attraction which can rarely beresisted or explained!

Life with Mrs. Needham was very active, and although Katherine wasnecessarily left a good deal at home, she saw quite enough of societyin the evening to satisfy her. The all-accomplished Angela Bradleyshowed a decided inclination to fraternize with Mrs. Needham'sattractive secretary, but for some occult reason Katherine did notrespond. She fancied that Miss Bradley was disposed to look down withtoo palpably condescending indulgence from the heights of her own calmperfections on those storms in a teacup amid which Mrs. Needhamagitated, with such sincere belief in her own powers to raise or toallay them. Yet Miss Bradley was a really high-minded woman, only alittle too well aware of her own superiority. She was always a favoredguest at the "Shrubberies, " as Mrs. Needham's house was called, and ofcourse an attraction to Errington, who was also a frequent visitor. Theevenings, when some of the _habitues_ dropped in on their way toparties, or returning from the theatre (Mrs. Needham never wanted to goto bed!), were bright and amusing. Moreover, Katherine had completeliberty of movement. If Mrs. Needham were going out without hersecretary, Katherine was quite free to spend the time with Miss Payne, or with Rachel Trant, whom she found more interesting. At the house ofthe former she generally found Bertie ready to escort her home, alwayskindly and deeply concerned about her, but more than ever determined toconvert her from her uncertain faith and worldly tendencies, toEvangelicalism and contempt for the joys of this life. 

Already the days of her heirship seemed to have been wafted away farback, and the routine of the present was becoming familiar. There wasnothing oppressive in it. Yet she could not look forward. Hope had longbeen a stranger to her. Never, since her mother's death, since she hadfully realized the bearings of her own reprehensible act, had she knownthe joy of a light heart. Some such ideas were flitting through her mindas she was diligently copying Mrs. Needham's lucubrations one afternoon, when the parlor maid opened the door and said, as she handed her a card, "The lady is in the drawing-room, ma'am. "

The lady was Mrs. Ormonde. 

"Is Mrs. Needham at home?"

"No, ma'am. "

It was rather a trial, this, meeting with Ada, but Katherine could notshirk it. She did not want to have any quarrel with the boys' mother, soshe ascended to the drawing-room. 

There stood the pretty, smartly dressed little woman, all airy elegance, but the usually smiling lips were compressed, and the smooth white browwas wrinkled with a frown. She was examining a book of photographs--mostof them signed by the donors. 

"Oh, Katherine! how do you do?" she said, sharply, and not in the leastabashed by any memory of their last meeting. "I am up in town for a fewdays, and I couldn't leave without seeing you. You see I have too muchfeeling to turn _my_ back on an old friend, however injured I may be bycircumstances over which you had no control. You are not looking well, Katie; you are so white, and your eyes don't seem to be half open. "

"I am quite well, I assure you, " said Katherine, composedly, andavoiding a half-offered kiss by drawing a chair forward for hervisitor. 

"I wish I could say as much, " returned Mrs. Ormonde, with a deep sigh, throwing herself into it. "I am perfectly wretched; Ormonde is quiteintolerable at times since everything has collapsed. I am sure I oftenwish you had never done anything for the boys or me, and then we shouldnever have fancied ourselves rich. Of course I don't blame you; youmeant well, but it is all very unfortunate. "

"It is indeed; but is it possible that Colonel Ormonde is so unmanly asto--"

"Unmanly?" interrupted his wife. "Manly, you mean. Of course he revengeshimself on me. Not always. He is all right sometimes; but if anythinggoes wrong, then I suffer. Fortunately I was prudent, and made littlesavings, with which I am--but"--interrupting herself--"that is not worthspeaking about. "

"I am sorry you are unhappy, Ada, " said Katherine, with her readysympathy. 

"Oh, don't think I allow myself to be trodden on, " cried Mrs. Ormonde, her eyes suddenly lighting up. "It was a hard fight at first, but I sawit was a struggle for life; and when we knew the worst, and Ormonderaved and roared, I said I should leave him and take baby (I could, youknow, till he was seven years old), and that the servants would swear Iwas in fear of my life; and I should have done it, and carried my case, too! I'm not sure it would not have been better for me. But he gave in, and asked me to stay. I felt pretty safe then. Now, when he isdisagreeable, I burst into tears at dinner, and upset my glass of clareton the table-cloth, and totter out of the room weak and tremulous. I cansee the butler and James ready to tear him to pieces. When he isgood-humored, so am I; and when he tries to bully, why, what withtrembling so much that I break something he likes, and fits ofhysterics, and being awfully frightened before strangers, and makingthings go wrong when he wishes to create a great effect on some one, Ithink he begins to see it is better not to quarrel with me. Still, it isawfully miserable, compared with what it used to be when I reallythought he loved me. How pleasant we all were together at Castlefordbefore this horrid man turned up! Why didn't that awkward bush-rangertake better aim?"

"I dare say George Liddell is not quite of your opinion, " saidKatherine, smiling at her sister-in-law's candor. 

"He was quite rich before, " continued Mrs. Ormonde, querulously. "Whycouldn't he be satisfied to stay out there and spend his own money? Ihate selfishness and greed!"

"They _are_ odious in every one, " said Katherine, gravely. 

"Now that I feel satisfied you are well and happy, " resumed Mrs. Ormonde, who had never put a single question respecting herself toKatherine, "there are one or two things I wanted to ask you. Where arethe boys?"

"They are still at Sandbourne; but they leave, I am sorry to say, atEaster. "

"Oh, they do! It is an awfully expensive school. Are you quite sure, Katherine, they will not send in the bill to me?"

"Quite sure, Ada, for I have paid in advance. "

"That was really very thoughtful, dear. Then--excuse my asking; I wouldnot interfere with you for the world--but what _are_ you going to dowith them in the Easter holidays? I _dare_ not have them at Castleford. I should lose all the ground I have gained if such a thing was evenhinted to the Colonel. "

"Why apologize for inquiring about your own children? Do not be alarmed, they shall _not_ go. I am just now arranging for them to go to a schoolat Wandsworth, and for the Easter holidays Miss Payne has most kindlyinvited them. "

"Really! How very nice! I will send her a hamper from Castleford. I canmanage that much. This is rather a nice little place, " continued Mrs. Ormonde, evidently much relieved and looking round. "What lots of prettythings! Is Mrs. Needham nice? She seemed rather a flashy woman. You mustfeel it an awful change from being an heiress, and so much made of, tobeing a sort of upper servant! Do you dine with Mrs. Needham?"

"Yes, I really do, and go out to evening parties with her. "

"No, really?"

"It is a fact. She is a kind, delightful woman to live with. I am mostfortunate. "

"Fortunate? You cannot say that, Katie! You are the most unfortunategirl in the world. You know how penniless women are looked upon insociety. _I_ remember when Ormonde thought himself such a weak idiot forbeing attracted to me, all because I had no money. It makes such adifference! Why, there is Lord De Burgh; I met him yesterday, and askedhim to have a cup of tea with me, and he never once mentioned yourname. "

"Why should he? I never knew Lord De Burgh, " said Katherine. 

"Yes, you did, dear! Why, you cannot know what is going on if you havenot heard that old De Burgh died nearly a fortnight ago in Paris, andour friend has come in for _every_thing. He had just returned from thefuneral, so he said, and is looking darker and glummer than ever. Well, you know how he used to run after you. I assure you he never made asingle inquiry about you. Heartless, wasn't it? I said something aboutthat horrid man coming back, and--would you believe it?--he laughed inthat odious, cynical way he has, and called me a little tigress. Theonly sympathetic word he spoke was to call it an infernal business. Hedoesn't care what he says, you know. Then he asked if Ormonde wastearing his hair about it. What a pity you did not encourage him, Katie, and marry him! Once you were his wife he could not have thrown you off. Now I don't suppose you'll ever see _him_ again. I rather think Mrs. Needham does not know many of _his_ set. "

"She knows an extraordinary number of people--all sorts and conditionsof men; Mr. Errington often dines here. "

"Does he? But then he is a sort of literary hack now. Just think what achange both for you and him!"

"It is very extraordinary; but he keeps his position better than I do. "

"Of course. Men are always better off. Now, dear, I must go. I am quiteglad to have seen you, and sorry to think that my husband is absurdlyprejudiced against you from the way you spoke to him last time. It wasby no means prudent. "

"Well, Ada, should Colonel Ormonde so far overcome his objection to meas to seek me again, I think it very likely I may say more imprudentthings than I did last time. Pray, what do I owe him that I shouldmeasure my words?"

"Really, Katherine, when you hold your head up in that way I feel halfafraid of you. There is no use trying to hold your own with the worldwhen your pocket is empty. You see nobody troubles about you now, whereas--"

"Miss Bradley!" announced the servant; and Angela entered, in anexquisite walking dress of dark blue velvet; bonnet and feathers, gloves, parasol, all to match. Mrs. Ormonde gazed in delightedadmiration at this splendid apparition. 

"My dear Miss Liddell!" she exclaimed, shaking hands cordially. "I haverushed over to tell you that we have secured a box for Patti's benefiton Thursday, and I want you to join us. I know Mrs. Needham has a stall, but she will sup with us after. Mr. Errington and one or two musicalcritics are coming to dine with me at half past six, and we can gotogether. "

"You are very good, " said Katherine, coloring. She did not particularlycare to go with Miss Bradley, and she was amused at Mrs. Ormonde'sexpression of astonishment. "Of course I shall be most happy. "

"Now I must not stay; I have heaps to do. Will you be so kind as to giveme the address of the modiste you mentioned the other day who made thatpretty gray dress of yours? Madame Maradan is so full she cannot do acouple of morning dresses for me, so I want to try your woman. "

"I shall be so glad if you will, " cried Katherine. "I will bring you oneof her cards. Let me introduce my sister-in-law to you. Mrs. Ormonde, Miss Bradley. " She left the room, and Miss Bradley drew a chair besideher. "I think I had the pleasure of seeing you at Lady Carton's gardenparty last July?" she said, courteously. 

"Oh, dear me, yes! I thought I knew your face. Lady Carton introducedyou to me. Lady Carton is a cousin of Colonel Ormonde's. "

"Oh, indeed! Miss Liddell was not there?"

"No; she chose to bury herself by the sea-side for the whole season. "

Here Katherine returned with the card. 

"I am so glad you are going to give my friend Rachel Trant a trial. I amsure you will like her. She has excellent taste. "

"Now I must not wait any longer. So good-by. Shall you be at MadameCaravicelli's this evening?"

"I am not sure. I don't feel much disposed to go. "

"Good-by for the present, then. Good-morning, " to Mrs. Ormonde, and MissBradley swept out of the room. 

"Well, Katherine!" cried Mrs. Ormonde, when her sister-in-law returned, "you seem to have fallen on your feet here. Pray who is that fine, elegant girl who seems so fond of you?"

"She is the daughter of a wealthy publisher, and has been very kind tome. "

"Ah, yes! I remember now, Lady Carton said she would have a largefortune; and so she is your intimate friend?"

"Well, a very kind friend. "

"Now I must bid you good-by. I am sure I am very glad you are socomfortable. I am going back to Castleford to-morrow, or I should callagain. You are going to be Lucky Katherine, after all; I am sure youare;" and with many sweet words she disappeared. 

"Lucky, " repeated Katherine, as she returned to her task, "mine has beenstrange luck. "

 * * * * *

Despite Mrs. Ormonde's assurances that De Burgh had quite forgotten her, the news that he was once more in town disturbed Katherine. Unless somenew fancy had driven her out of his head, she felt sure that his firststep in the new and independent existence on which he had entered wouldbe to seek her out and renew the offer he had twice made before. Moneyor no money, position, circumstances, all were but a feather-weightcompared to the imperative necessity of having his own way. 

It would be very painful to be obliged to refuse him again, for, inspite of her grave disapprobation of him in many ways, she liked him, and had a certain degree of confidence in him. There were thepossibilities of a good character even in his faults, and it grieved herto be obliged to pain him. 

"After all, I may be troubling myself about a vain image; it is morethan a month since I saw him. He is now a wealthy peer, and it isimpossible to say how circumstances may have changed him. "

When Mrs. Needham had dressed for the dinner which was to precede MadamCaravicelli's reception, Katherine put on her bonnet and cloak and setoff to spend a couple of hours with Rachel Trant, not only to avoid alonely evening, but to change the current of her thoughts--lonelinessand thought being her greatest enemies at present. 

She had grown quite accustomed to make her way by omnibus, and as thedays grew longer and the weather finer, she hoped to be able to walkacross Campden Hill, not only shortening the distance but saving thefare. A visit to Rachel amused Katherine and drew her out of herselfmore than anything; the details of the business and management ofproperty which she felt was her own had a large amount ofinterest--real, living interest. The state of the books, the increase ofcustom, the addition to the small capital which Rachel was graduallyaccumulating--all these were subjects not easily exhausted. Bothpartners agreed that their great object, now that the undertaking wasbeginning to maintain itself, was to lay by all they could, for ofcourse bad debts and bad times would come. 

"It is a great satisfaction to think that though people may do withoutbooks or pictures or music, they must wear clothes; and if you fit well, and are punctual, you are certain to have customers. Of course if yougive credit you must charge high; people are beginning to see that now. You cannot get ready money in the dressmaking trade except for thosecostumes you give for a certain fixed price; but I stand out forquarterly accounts. "

"And do you find no difficulty in getting them paid?"

"Not much; you see, I deduct five per cent. For punctual payment. Everyone tries to save that five per cent. But talking of these things hasput a curious incident out of my head, which I was longing to tell you. You remember among my first customers were Mrs. Fairchild and herdaughters. They keep a very high class ladies' school in InvernessTerrace, and have been excellent customers. Yesterday Miss Fairchildcalled and said that she wanted an entire outfit for a little girl often or eleven, who was to be with them. They did not wish for anythingfine or showy; at the same time, cost was no object. I was to furnisheverything, to save time. This morning they brought the child to befitted; she is very tall and thin, but lithe and supple, with dark hair, and large, bright, dark-brown eyes. She will be very handsome. I couldnot quite make her out; she is not an ordinary gentlewoman, nor is shethe very least vulgar or common. She gives me more the idea of a wildthing not quite tamed. When all was settled I was told to address theaccount to Mr. George Liddell, Grosvenor Hotel. "

"Why, it must be my cousin George!" cried Katherine. "How strange thatin this huge town they should fix on you amongst the thousands ofdressmakers! You must make my little cousin look very smart, Rachel. "

"She is not little. She is wonderfully mature for ten years old, something like a panther. "

"I should like to see her. I believe she is a great idol with herfather. I wish, " added Katherine, after a pause, "he were not sounreasonably prejudiced against me. You may think me weak, Rachel, but Ihave a sort of yearning for family ties. "

"Why should I think you weak? It is a natural and I suppose a healthyfeeling. _I_ don't understand it myself because I never had any. Isolation is my second nature. The only human being that ever treated mewith tenderness and loyal friendship is yourself, and what you have beento me, what I feel toward you, none can know, for I can never tell. "

"Dear Rachel! How glad I am to have been of use to you! And you amplyrepay me, you are looking so much better. Tell me, are you not feelingcontent and happy?"

Rachel smiled, a smile somewhat grim in spite of the soft lips itparted. "I am resigned, and I have found an object to live for, and youknow what an improvement that is compared to the condition you found mein. But I don't think I am really any more in love with life now than Iwas then. However, I am more mistress of myself. " She paused, and herface grew very grave as she leaned back in her chair, her arm and smallhand, closely shut, resting on the table beside her. 

"All the minute details, the thought and anxiety, my business, or ratherour business, requires an enormous help--it is such a boon to be tooweary at night-time to think! But _no_ amount of work, of care, canquite shut out the light of other days. It is no doubt wrong, immoral, unworthy of a reformed outcast, but _if_ my real heart's desire couldbe fulfilled, I would live over again those few months of exquisitehappiness, and die before waking to the terrible reality of myinsignificance in the sight of him who was more than life to me--diewhile I was still something to be missed, to be regretted. He would havetired of me had I been his wife, and that would have been as terrible asmy present lot--even more, for I must have seen his weariness day byday, and no amount of social esteem would have consoled me. As it is, myreal self seems to have died, and this creature"--striking herbreast--"was a cunningly contrived machine, that can work, andunderstand, but, save for one friend, cannot feel. I do not even lookback to _him_ with any regretful tenderness. I do not love him--that isdead. I do not hate him--I have no right. He did not deceive me; Ivoluntarily overstepped the line which separates the reputable anddisreputable; as long as I was loved and cherished I never felt as if Ihad done wrong. I never felt humiliation when I was with him. When hegrew tired of me he could not help it; he never did try to resist anywhim or passion. But better, stronger men cannot hold the waveringwill-o'-the-wisp they call 'love'; and once it flickers out, it cannotbe relighted. No, I have no one to blame; I can only resign myself tothe bitterest, cruelest fate that can befall a woman--to be loved andeagerly sought, won, and adored for a brief hour, then thrown carelesslyaside--a mere plaything, unworthy of serious thought. Ah, I haveforgotten my resolution not to talk of myself to you. It is a weakness;but your kind eyes melt my heart. Now I will close it up--I will thinkonly of the task I have set myself, to make a little fortune for you, areputation for my own establishment--not a very grand ambition, but itdoes to keep the machine going; and I am growing stronger every day, with a strange force that surprises myself. I fear nothing and no one. Ithink my affection for you, dear, is the only thing which keeps mehuman. Now tell me, are you still comfortable with Mrs. Needham?"

The tears stood in Katherine's eyes as she listened to this stern wailof a bruised spirit, but with instinctive wisdom she refrained fromuttering fruitless expressions of sympathy. She would not encourageRachel to dwell on the hateful subject; she only replied by pressing herfriend's hand in silence, and she began to speak of Mrs. Ormonde'svisit, and succeeded in making Rachel laugh at the little woman'sdescription of the means she adopted of reducing Colonel Ormonde toreason. 

"Real generosity and unselfishness is very rare, " said Rachel. "Themeanness and narrowness of men are amazing--and of women too; butsomehow one expects more from the strength of a man. "

"When men are good they are very good, " said Kate, reflectively. "Butthe only two I have seen much of are not pleasant specimens--my uncle, John Liddell, and Colonel Ormonde. Then against them I must balanceBertie Payne, who is good enough for two. "

"He is indeed! I owe him a debt I can never repay, for he brought you tome. I wish you could reward him as he would wish. "

"I am not sure that he has any wishes on the subject, " said Katherine, her color rising. "He thinks I am too ungodly to be eligible for thehelpmeet of a true believer. Ah, indeed I am not half good enough forsuch a man!"

CHAPTER XXIX. 

DE BURGH AGAIN. 

That Rachel Trant should have drifted into communication George Liddellseemed a most whimsical turn of the wheel of fortune to Katherine, andshe thought much of it. 

Would it lead to any reconciliation between herself and her strange, unreasonable, half-savage kinsman? She fancied she could interestherself in his daughter, and towards himself she felt no enmity; rathera mild description of curiosity. Why should they not be on friendlyterms?

But this and other subjects of thought were swallowed up in theanticipated pain of removing her nephews from their school atSandbourne, where they had been so happy and done so well. Miss Payne'sfriendly offer to take them in for a week or two had relieved Katherineof a difficulty; and Mrs. Needham was most considerate in promising togive her ample time to prepare them for their new school. 

What a difference, poor Katherine thought, between the present and thepast! quite as great as between the price of Sandbourne and Wandsworth. There was a certain rough and ready tone about the latter establishmentwhich distressed her; yet the school-master's wife seemed a kindly, motherly woman, and the urchins she saw running about the playgroundlooked ruddy and happy enough. It was the best of the cheaper schoolsshe had seen, and to Dr. Paynter's care she resolved to commit them. AsWandsworth was within an easy distance, she could often go to see them. 

Another matter kept her somewhat on the _qui vive_. In spite of Mrs. Ormonde's assurance that De Burgh had forgotten her, Katherine had astrong idea that she had not seen the last of him. 

Though Mrs. Needham's wide circle of acquaintances included many men andwomen of rank, she knew nothing of the set to which De Burgh belonged. Those of his class, admitted within the hospitable gate of theShrubberies, were usually persons of literary, artistic, or dramaticleanings and connections, of which he was quite innocent. 

It was a day or two after Katherine's last interview with Rachel Trant, and Mrs. Needham was "at home" in a more formal way than usual. Katherine was assisting her chief in receiving, when, in the tea-room, she was accosted by Errington. "Have you had tea yourself?" he asked, with his grave, sweet smile. 

"Oh yes! long ago. "

"Then, Miss Liddell, indulge me in a little talk. It is so long since Ihave had a word with you! It seems that since we agreed to be fastfriends, founding our friendship on the injuries we have done eachother, that we have drifted apart more than ever. Pray do not turn awaywith that distressed look. I am so unfortunate in being alwaysassociated with painful ideas in your mind. "

"Indeed you are not. All the good of my present life I owe to you, " andshe raised her soft brown eyes, full of tender gratitude, to his. It wasa glance that might have warmed any man's heart, and Errington's answerwas:

"Come, then, and let us exchange confidences, " the crowd round the doorat that moment obliging him, as it seemed to her, to hold her arm veryclose to his side. 

At the end of the hall, which was little more than a passage, was a doorsheltered by a large porch. The door had been removed, and the porchturned into a charming nook, with draperies, plants, colored lamps, andcomfortable seats. Here Errington and Katherine established themselves. 

"First, " he began, "tell me, how do you fare at Mrs. Needham's hands? Iam glad to see that you seem quite at home; and if I may be allowed tosay it, you bear up bravely under the buffets of unkindly fortune. "

"I have no right to complain, " returned Katherine. "As to Mrs. Needham, were I her younger sister she could not be kinder. I think the greatadvantage of the semi-Bohemian set to which she belongs, is that amongthem there is neither Jew nor Greek, neither bond nor free, for all areone in our common human nature. Were I to go down into the kitchen andcook the dinner, it would not put me at any disadvantage with my goodfriend. I should have only to wash my hands and don my best frock, andin the drawing-room I should be as much the daughter of the house asever. "

Errington laughed. There was a happy sound in his laugh. "You describeour kind hostess well. Such women are the salt of the social earth. Andyour 'dear boys. ' How and where are they?"

"Ah! that is a trial. I go down to Sandbourne the day after to-morrow, to take them from that delightful school, and place them in a fardifferent establishment. "

"Ha! Does Mrs. Ormonde go with you?"

"Mrs. Ormonde? Oh no. You know--" she hesitated. "Well, you see, ColonelOrmonde is exceedingly indignant with me because I have lost my fortune, and I fancy he does not approve of Ada's having anything to do with me. Besides--" She paused, not liking to betray too much of the familypolitics. "They have agreed to give the boys over to me. "

"I know. I paid Mr. Newton a long visit the other day, and he toldme--perhaps more than you would like. "

"I do not mind how much you know, " said Katherine, sadly. "I am glad youcare enough to inquire. "

"I want you to understand that I care very, very much, " repliedErrington, in a low, earnest tone. "You and I have crossed each other'spaths in an extraordinary manner, and if you will allow me, I shouldlike to act a brother's part to you if--" He broke off abruptly, andKatherine, looking up to him with a bright smile, exclaimed, "I shall bedelighted to have such a brother, and will not give you more troublethan I can help. "

"Thank you. " He seemed to hesitate a moment, and then, with a change oftone, observed: "You and Miss Bradley seem to have become intimate. Youmust find her an agreeable companion. I think she might be a usefulfriend. "

"She is extremely kind. I cannot say how much obliged to her I am; but, "continued Katherine, impelled by an unaccountable antagonism, "do youknow, I cannot understand why she likes me. There is no real sympathybetween us. She is so wise and learned. She never would do wrong thingsfrom a sudden irresistible impulse, and then devour her heart with, notrepentance, exactly, but remorse which cannot be appeased. "

"Probably not. She is rather a remarkable woman. Strong, yet not hard. Ifancy we are the arbiters of our own fate. "

"Oh no! no!" cried Katherine, with emotion. "Just think of the snaresand pitfalls which beset us, and how hard it is to keep the narrow roadwhen a heart-beat too much, a sudden rush of sorrow or of joy, and ourbalance is lost: even steady footsteps slide from the right way. Believeme, some never have a fair chance. "

Errington made a slight movement nearer to her, and after a brief pausesaid, "I should like to hear you argue this with Angela Bradley. "

It sounded strange and unpleasant to hear him say "Angela. "

"I never argue with her, " said Katherine. "Mine are but old-fashionedweapons, while hers are of the latest fashion and precision. Moreover, we stand on different levels, I am sorry to say. I wonder she troublesherself about me. Is it pure benevolence? or"--with a quick glance intohis eyes, which were unusually animated--"did you ask her of herclemency to throw me some crumbs of comfort? If so, she has obeyed yougracefully and well. "

"Unreason has a potent advocate in you, Miss Liddell, " said Errington;smiling a softer smile than usual. "But I want you to understand andappreciate Miss Bradley. She is a fine creature in every sense of theword. As friend, I am sure she would be loyal with a reasonable loyalty, and I flatter myself she is a friend of mine. "

"Another sister?" asked Katherine, forcing herself to smile playfully. 

"Yes, " returned Errington, slowly, looking down as he spoke; "adifferent kind of sister. "

Katherine felt her cheeks, her throat, her ears, glow, as she listenedto what she considered a distinct avowal of his engagement to theaccomplished Angela, but she only said, softly and steadily, "I hope shewill always be a dear and loyal sister to you. "

There was a moment's silence. Then Errington said, abruptly, his eyes, as she felt, on her face, "Have you seen De Burgh since his return?"

"No. "

"No doubt you will. What a curious fellow he is! I wonder how he willact, now that he has rank and fortune? He has some good points. "

"Oh yes, many, " cried Katherine, warmly, "I could not help liking him. He is very true. "

"And extremely reckless, " put in Errington, coldly, as Katherine pausedto remember some other good point. 

"Certainly not calculating, " she returned. 

"Probably his new responsibilities may steady him. "

"They may. I almost wish I dare----"

"My dear Katherine, I have been looking everywhere for you. I want youso much to play Mrs. Grandison's accompaniment. She is going to sing oneof your songs, and no one plays it as well as you do. So sorry tointerrupt your nice talk; but what can a wretched hostess do?"

"Oh, I am quite ready, Mrs. Needham, " said Katherine; and she roseobediently. 

"Will you come, Mr. Errington?" asked the lady of the house. 

"To hear Mrs. Grandison murder one of Miss Liddell's songs, which I daresay I have heard at Castleford? No, thank you. I shall bid yougood-night. I am going on to Lady Barbara Bonsfield's, where I shall notstay long. "

"Horrid woman! she robbed me of Angela Bradley to-night!" exclaimed Mrs. Needham. 

With a quick "Good-night, " Katherine went to fulfil her duties in thedrawing-room, and did not see Errington again for several days. 

"I was vexed with you for not singing last night, " said Mrs. Needham, asshe sat at luncheon with her young friend the next morning. "You may nothave a great voice, but you are much more thoroughly trained than halfthe amateurs whose squallings and screechings are applauded to theecho. "

"I do not know why, but I really did not feel that I could sing, Mrs. Needham. I do not often feel miserable and choky, but I did last night. I am so anxious and uneasy about the boys and the school they are goingto, that I was afraid of making a fool of myself. When the change isaccomplished I shall be all right again, and not bore you with mysentimentality. "

"You don't do anything of the sort. You are a capital plucky girl. Now Ihave nothing particular for you to do this afternoon, and I can't takeyou with me; so just go out and call on Miss Bradley or Miss Payne todivert your----"

"A gentleman for Miss Liddell;" said the parlor maid, placing a cardbeside Katherine. 

"Lord de Burgh!" she exclaimed, in great surprise. 

"Lord who?" asked Mrs. Needham. 

"Lord de Burgh; he is a relation of Colonel Ormonde; I used to meet himat Castleford. "

Mrs. Needham eyed her curiously. "Oh, very well, dear, " she said, withgreat cheerfulness. "Go and see him, and give him some tea; only it istoo early. I am sorry I cannot put in an appearance, but I have just ahundred and one things to do before I go to Professor Maule's scientific'afternoon' at four. Give me my bag and note-book. I must go straightaway to the 'Incubator Company's Office;' I promised them a notice in mySalterton letter next week. There, go, child; I don't want you anymore. "

"But I am in no hurry, Mrs. Needham. Lord de Burgh is no very particularfriend of mine. "

"Well, well! That remains to be seen. Just smooth your hair, won't you?It's all rough where you have leaned on your hand over your writing. It's no matter? Well, it doesn't much. Do you think he has any votes forthe British Benevolent Institution for Aged Women? I do so want to getmy gardener's mother--There, go, go, dear! You had better not keep himwaiting. " And Katherine was gently propelled out of the room. 

In truth, she was rather reluctant to face De Burgh, although she feltgratified and soothed by his taking the trouble to find her out. 

Katherine found her visitor pacing up and down when she opened thedrawing-room door, feeling vexed with herself for her changing color andthe embarrassment she felt she displayed. De Burgh was looking tallerand squarer than ever, but his dark face brightened so visibly as hiseyes met Katherine's, that she felt a pang as she thought how unmovedshe was herself. 

"I thought you had escaped from sight!" he exclaimed, holding her handfor a moment longer than was absolutely necessary. "The first time Iwent to look for you in the old place, I was simply told you had left, by a stupid old woman who knew nothing. Then I called again and askedfor Miss--you know whom I mean; she is rather a brick, and told me allabout you. In the mean time I met Mrs. Ormonde. I was determined not toask _her_ anything--she is such a selfish little devil. Now here I amface to face with you at last. " And he drew a chair opposite her, andwas silent for a minute, gazing with a wistful look in her face. 

"You have not a very high opinion of my sister-in-law, " said Katherine, beginning as far away from themselves as she could. 

"She is an average woman, " he said, shortly. "But tell me, what is thematter with you? I did not think you were the sort of girl to break yourheart over the loss of a fortune. "

"But I have not broken my heart!" she exclaimed, somewhat startled byhis positive tone. 

"There's a look of pain in your eyes, a despondency in your very figure;don't you think I know every turn of you? Well, I won't say more if itannoys you. We have changed places, Katherine--I mean Miss Liddell. Fortune has given me a turn at last, and I have been tremendously busy. I had no idea how troublesome it is to be rich. There are compensations, however. This doesn't seem a bad sort of place"--looking round at thecrowd of china and bric-a-brac ornaments and the comfortable chairs. "How did you come here, and what has been settled? Don't think meimpertinent or intrusive; you know you agreed we should be friends, andyou must not send me adrift!"

"Thank you, Lord de Burgh. I am sure you could be a very loyal friend. My story is very short. " And she gave him a brief sketch of how heraffairs had been arranged. 

"By George! Ormonde is a mean sneak. To think of his leaving those boyson your hands! and he has plenty of money. I happen to know that hiswife has been dabbling in the stocks, and turned some money too. Nowwhere did she get the cash to do it with but from him? So I suppose youintend to starve yourself in order to educate the poor little chaps?"

"Oh no. On the contrary, I am living on the fat of the land, with thekindest mistress in the world. "

"Mistress! Great heavens! Why _will_ you persist in such a life?"

"My dear Lord de Burgh, don't you know that it is not always easy tojudge or to act for another?

"Which means I am to mind my own business?"

"You have a very unvarnished style of stating facts. "

"I know I have. " A short pause, and he began again. "Where are thoseboys now?

"At Sandbourne. But, alas! I am going to take them away to-morrow. Theyare going to a school at Wandsworth. "

"Going down to Sandbourne to-morrow? Is Miss Payne going with you?"

"Oh no; I don't need any one. "

"Nonsense! you can't go about alone. I'll meet you at the station andescort you there. "

Katherine laughed. "I am afraid that would never do. You have increasedin importance and I have diminished, till the distance between ourrespective stations has widened far too much to permit of familiarintercourse, or--"

"I never thought I should hear _you_ talking such rubbish. Whatdifference can there be between us, except that you are a good woman andI am _not_ a good man? I don't think it's quite fair that on our firstmeeting after ages--at least quite two months of separation--you shouldtalk in this satirical way. "

"I speak the words of truth and soberness, Lord de Burgh. "

"Perhaps. I can't quite make you out. I am certain you have been inworse trouble than even want of money. I wish you'd confide in me. That's the right word, isn't it? Do you know, I can be very true to myfriends, and silent as the grave. I could tell _you_ everything. "

"Thank you. I am sure you could be a faithful friend. "

"Do you ever see Errington?" asked De Burgh, changing the subjectabruptly. 

"Oh yes. He often comes here. "

"Indeed? To see you, or Mrs. --what's her name?"

"To see Mrs. Needham, " returned Katherine, smiling. 

"Hum! I suppose he has a taste for mature beauty?"

"I do not know. At all events Mrs. Needham knows charming girls--enoughto suit all tastes, and Mr. Errington--"

"Is too superior a fellow to be influenced by such attractions, eh?" putin De Burgh. 

"I am not so sure;" and she laughed merrily. "I think there is one fairlady for whom he is inclined to forego his philosophic tranquility. "

"Ha! I thought so. Yourself?"

"_Me_! No, indeed! A young lady of high attainments and a large fortune. "

"Indeed? I am glad of it. He must be awfully hard up, poor devil!"

"Mr. Errington can never be poor, " cried Katherine, offended by thedisparaging epithet. "He carries his fortune in his brain. "

"Well, I am exceedingly thankful I carry mine in my pocket, " returned DeBurgh, laughing. "Evidently Errington can do no wrong in your eyes. Letus wish him success in his wooing. So I am not to be your escort toSandbourne? You ought to let me be your courier, I have knocked about somuch. I thought I'd take to the road in the modern sense, when I came tomy last sou, if the poor old lord had not died. Now I am going to be apattern man as landlord, peer, and sportsman. Can't give up that, youknow. "

"I do not see why you should. "

"I see you are looking at the clock; that means I am staying too long. You don't know how delightful it is to sit here talking to you, withoutany third person to bore us. "

"I don't mean to be rude, Lord de Burgh, but you see I have letters towrite for my chief. "

"The deuce you have! It is too awful to see you in slavery. "

"Very pleasant, easy slavery. "

"So this chief of yours gives parties, receptions, at homes. Why doesn'tshe ask me?"

"I am sure she would if she knew of your existence. "

"Do you mean to say you have never mentioned me to her, nor enlargedupon my many delightful and noble qualities?"

"I am ashamed to say I have not. "

Lord de Burgh rose slowly and reluctantly. "Are you going to bring theboys here?"

"No; Miss Payne has most kindly invited them to stay with her. As yetshe has not found any one to replace me. Poor little souls, I shall beglad when their holidays are over, for I fear they are not the same joyto Miss Payne as they are to me. "

"Ah! believe me, you want some help in bringing up a couple of boys. Just fancy what Cis will be six or seven years hence. Why, he'll playthe devil if he hasn't a strong hand over him. "

"I don't believe it!" cried Katherine, smiling. "Why should he be worsethan other boys?"

"Why should he be better?"

"Well, I can but do my best for them, " said Katherine with a sigh. 

"I am a brute to prophesy evil, when you have enough to contend withalready, " cried De Burgh, taking her hand, and looking into her eyeswith an expression she could not misunderstand. 

"You must not exaggerate my troubles, " returned Katherine, with a sweetbright smile on her lips and in her eyes that thanked him for hissympathy, even while she gently withdrew her hand. 

"I wish you would let me help you, " said De Burgh; and as her lipsparted to reply, he went on, hastily: "No, no; don't answer--not yet, atleast. You will only say something disagreeable, in spite of yourcharming lips. Now I'll not intrude on you any longer. I suppose thereis no objection to my calling on the young gentlemen at Miss Payne's, and taking them to a circus, or Madame Tussaud's, or any otherdissipation suited to their tender years?"

"My dear Lord de Burgh, what an infliction for you! and how very goodof you to think of them! Pray do not trouble about them. "

"I understand, " said De Burgh. "I'll leave my card for your chief below;and be sure you don't forget me when you are sending out cards. By-the-way, I have a pressing invitation to Castleford. When I write torefuse I'll say I have seen you, and that I am going to take charge ofthe boys during the holidays. "

"No, no; pray do not, Lord de Burgh, " cried Katherine, eagerly. "Youknow Ada, and--"

"Are you ashamed to have me as a coadjutor?" interrupted De Burgh, laughing. "Trust me; I will be prudent. Good-by for the present. "

Katherine stood in silent thought for a few moments after he had gone. She fully understood the meaning of his visit; though there had beenlittle or nothing of the lover in his tone. He had come as soon aspossible to place himself and all he had at her disposal. He wasperfectly sincere in his desire to win her for his wife, and she almostregretted she could not return his affection: it might be trueaffection--something beyond and above the dominant whim of an imperiousnature. And what a solution to all her difficulties! But it wasimpossible she could overcome the repulsion which the idea of marriagewith any man she did not love inspired. There was to her but one in theworld to whom she could hold allegiance, and _he_ was forbidden by allsense of self-respect and modesty. How was it that, strive as she mightto fill her mind to his exclusion, the moment she was off guard theimage of Errington rose up clear and fresh, pervading heart andimagination, and dwarfing every other object?

"How miserably, contemptibly weak I am, and have always been! Why did Inot stifle this wretched, overpowering attraction in the beginning?" Ay!but when did it begin?

This is a sort of question no heart can answer. Who can foresee that thetiny spring, forcing its way up among the stones and heather of a lonelyhill-side, will grow into the broad river, which may carry peace andprosperity on its rolling tide to the lands below, or overwhelm themwith destructive floods, according to the forces which feed it and thebarriers which hedge it in?

CHAPTER XXX. 

"CIS AND CHARLIE. "

Again the spring sunshine was lending perennial youth even to London'sdingy streets, and making the very best winter garments look dim andshabby. Hunting was over, and Colonel Ormonde found himself by the willof his wife, once more established in London lodgings--of a dingier andobscurer order than those in which they had enjoyed last season. 

Mrs. Ormonde was neither intellectually nor morally strong, but she hadone reflex ingredient in her nature, which was to her both a shield andspear. She knew what she wanted, and was perfectly unscrupulous as tothe means of getting it. A woman who is pleasantly indifferent to thewants and wishes of her associates, if they happen to clash with herown, is tolerably sure to have her own way on the whole. Now and then, to be sure, she comes to grief; but in her general success thesefailures can be afforded. 

When first the tidings of George Liddell's return and his assertion ofhis rights reached her, she was terrified and undone by ColonelOrmonde's fury against Katherine, herself, her boys, every one. Inshort, that gallant officer thought he had done a generous and manlything, when he married the piquant little widow who had attracted him, although she could only meet her personal expenses and those of her twosons, without contributing to the general house-keeping. This sense ofhis own magnanimity, backed by the consciousness that it did not costhim too dear, had kept Colonel Ormonde in the happiest of moods for thefirst years of his married life. Terrible was the awakening from thedream of his own good luck and general "fine-fellowism"; and heavilywould the punishment have fallen on his wife had she been a sensitive orhigh-minded woman. Being, however, admirably suited to the partner ofher life, she looked round, as soon as the first burst of despair wasover, to see how she could make the best of her position. 

She was really vexed and irritated to find how little tenderness orregard her husband felt for her, for she had always believed that he wasgreatly devoted to her. To both of them the outside world was all inall, and on this Mrs. Ormonde counted largely. Colonel Ormonde could notput her away or lock her up because the provision made by Katherine forthe boys failed her, so while she was mistress of Castleford she musthave dresses and carriages and consideration. Knowing herself secure onthese points, she fearlessly adopted the system of counter-irritationshe described to Katherine; and to do her justice, her consciousnessthat the boys were safe under the care of their aunt, who would be sureto treat them well and kindly, made her the more ready to brave thedangers of her husband's wrath. 

"He must behave well before people, or men will say he is a 'cad' tovisit his disappointment on his poor little simple-hearted wife, " shethought. "He knows that. Then it is an enormous relief that Katherinestill clings to the boys, poor dears! She really is a trump; so I haveonly myself to think of; and Duke shall find that his shabbiness andill-temper do him no good. It's like drawing his teeth to get myquarter's allowance, beggarly as it is, from him. "

Colonel Ormonde's reflections, as he composed a letter to his steward, were by no means soothing. Though it was all but impossible for him tohold his tongue respecting his disappointment, whenever a shade ofdifference occurred between him and his wife, he was uncomfortablyconscious that he often acted like a brute toward the mother of his boy, of whom he was so proud; he was not therefore the more disposed to rulehis hasty, inconsiderate temper. The fact that Mrs. Ormonde had her ownmethods of paying him back disposed him to respect her, and it could notbe doubted that in time the friction of their natures would rub off theangles of each, and they would settle down into tolerable harmony, whereas a proud, true-hearted woman in her place would have been utterlycrushed and never forgiven. 

Ormonde, then, was meditating on his undeserved misfortunes, when thedoor was somewhat suddenly and vehemently pushed open, and Mrs. Ormondecame in, her eyes sparkling, and evidently in some excitement. 

"What's the matter?" asked her husband, not too amiably. "Has thatrascally, intruding fellow Liddell kicked the bucket?"

"No; but whom do you think I saw as I was leaving Mrs. Bennett's in HydePark Square, you know?"

"How can I tell? The policeman perhaps. "

"Nonsense, Duke! I had just come down the steps, and was turn turningtoward Paddington, for, as it was early, I thought I would take theomnibus to Oxford Circus (see how careful I am!), when I saw a beautifuldark brougham, drawn by splendid black horse--the coachman, the wholeturn-out, quite first rate--come at a dashing pace towards me. Irecognized Lord de Burgh inside, and who do you think was sitting besidehim?"

"God knows! The Saratoffski perhaps. "

"Really, Ormonde, I am astonished at your mentioning that dreadful womanto me. 

"Oh! are you? Well, _who_ was De Burgh's companion?"

"Charlie! my Charlie! and Cis was on the front seat. Cis saw me, for heclapped his hands and pointed as they flew past. What do you think ofthat?"

"By George!" he exclaimed, in capital letters. "I believe he is stillafter Katherine. If so, she'll have the devil's own luck. "

"Now listen to me. As Wilton Street was quite near, I went on there togather what I could from Miss Payne. She was at home, and a little lesssour and silent then usual. She was sorry, she said, the boys were out. They have been with her for a week, and Lord de Burgh had been mostkind. He had taken them to the Zoological Gardens and Madame Tussaud's, and just now had called for them to go to the circus. Isn't itwonderful? Do try and picture De Burgh at Madame Tussaud's. "

"There is only one way of accounting for such strange conduct, " returnedthe Colonel, thoughtfully. "He means to marry your sister. This wouldchange the face of affairs considerably. "

"Yes; it would be delightful. "

"I'm not so sure of that, " returned Ormonde, seriously. "Now that he isin love--and you know he is all fire and tow--he makes a fuss about theboys; but wait till he is married, and he will try to shift them back onyou. Why should he put up with his wife's nephews any more than I dowith _my_ wife's sons?"

"Because he is more in love, and a good deal richer, " returned Mrs. Ormonde. 

"More in love! Bosh! In the middle of the fever, you mean. Of coursethat will pass over. "

"Really men are great brutes, " observed Mrs. Ormonde, philosophically. 

"And women awful fools, " added her husband. 

"Well, perhaps so, " she returned, with a slight smile and a sharpglance. 

"Seriously, though, " resumed Colonel Ormonde, "it's all very well forKatherine to make a good match, and if De Burgh is fool enough to be inearnest, it will be a splendid match for her; but things may be maderather rough for me. That fellow De Burgh has the queerest crotchets, and doesn't hesitate to air them. He'd think nothing of slapping myshoulder in the club before a dozen members, and asking me if I meant toleave my wife's brats on his hands. "

"Do you really think so? Oh, Katherine would never let him. She dearlyloves the boys. "

"Wait till she has a son of her own. "

"Even so. She has her faults, I know. Her temper is rather violent, herideas are too high-flown and nonsensical, and she won't take advice, butshe never would injure _me_, I am sure of that. "

An inarticulate grunt from Colonel Ormonde, as he fixed his double glasson his nose and took up his pen again. 

"Duke, " resumed Mrs. Ormonde, after a pause, "don't you think I hadbetter go and see Katherine? You know we never had any quarrel, and thatMrs. Needham she lives with gives very nice parties. "

"Parties! By Jove! you'd go to old Nick for a party. What good will itdo you to meet a pack of beggarly scribblers?"

"They may not have money, Duke, but they have _manners_, and somethingto say for themselves, " she retorted. "Never mind about the parties. Don't you think I would better call on Katherine?"

"Do as you like but consider that she has behaved very badly--withextreme insolence; but I don't want to influence you. " This in a tone ofmagnanimity, as he began to write with an air of profound attention. 

Mrs. Ormonde made a swift contemptuous grimace at his back, and said, inmellifluous tones: "Very well, dear. I may as well go at once, andperhaps she will come with me to that dressmaking ally of hers, MissTrant. I hear she is raising her prices, but she will not do so to me ifI am with her original patroness. "

"Oh, do as you like; only don't send me in a long milliner's bill. "

"I am sure, Duke, my clothes never cost you much. "

"Not so far, but the future looks rather blue. "

To this she made no reply. Leaving the room noiselessly, she retired togive a touch of kohl to her eyes, a dust of pearl powder to her cheeks, and then started on her mission of inquiry and reconciliation. 

It is not to be denied that Katherine was greatly touched by De Burgh'sthoughtful kindness to her boys. She had been a good deal troubled abouttheir holidays, for she did not like to take full advantage of Mrs. Needham's kind permission to absent herself as much as she liked inorder to be with them, and she well knew that in Miss Payne's veryorderly establishment the two restless, active little fellows would bea most discordant ingredient. Above all, she wanted them to have a veryhappy holiday, as she feared their cloudless sunny days were numbered. 

The second morning, therefore, after she had deposited them in WiltonStreet, when she went to inquire for them, and found that Lord de Burghhad called and carried them off to have luncheon with him first, and tospend the afternoon at the Zoological Gardens after, she could hardlycredit her ears. 

"I must say, " observed Miss Payne, "that I am agreeably surprised. I hadno idea Lord de Burgh was so straightforward and well-disposed a man. Alittle abrupt, and would not stand any nonsense, I fancy, but a sterlingcharacter. He has tact too. He always spoke of the boys as his cousinColonel Ormonde's step-sons. He might be a good friend to them, Katherine. "

"No doubt, " she replied, thoughtfully. 

"He will send his butler or house-steward to take them to Kew Gardensto-morrow; but I dare say he will call and tell you himself. "

"He is wonderfully good, " said Katherine, feeling puzzled and oppressed. "I will go back, then, as fast as I can, and get my work done by sixo'clock; then I may spend the evening here with you and the boys. "

"Pray do, if you can manage it. "

Lord de Burgh's remarkable conduct troubled Katherine a good deal. Howought she to act? Certainly he would not put himself out of the way forCis and Charlie, had he not wished to please her, or really interestedhimself in them for her sake. Ought she to encourage him by acceptingthese very useful and kindly attentions? How could she reject themwithout saying as plainly by action as in words, "I know you arepressing your suit upon me, and I will not have it, " which, after all, might be a mistake; besides, she would thus deprive her nephews of muchpleasure. She could not come to a conclusion; she must let herselfdrift. But the question tormented her, and it was with an effort shebanished it, and applied herself to her task of arranging her chief'snotes. 

Mrs. Needham was exceedingly busy that afternoon, and did not go out, asshe had some provincial and colonial letters to finish, and had a coupleof engagements in the evening. She and her secretary therefore wrotediligently till about half-past five, when Ford, the smart parlor-maid, announced that "the gentleman" and two little boys were in thedrawing-room. 

"Good gracious!" cried Mrs. Needham, slipping off her glasses. "This isgrowing interesting. I shall go and speak to Lord de Burgh myself. Besides, I want to see your boys, my dear. How funny it sounds!"

"Do, Mrs. Needham. I will come. "

Lord de Burgh was glaring absently out of the window, and the boys wereeagerly examining the diverse and sundry objects thickly scatteredaround. They had wonderfully dirty hands and faces, their jackets weresplashed as if with some foaming beverage, the knees of theirknickerbockers were grubby with gravel and grass, and they had generallythe aspect of having done wildly what they listed for some hours. 

"Lord de Burgh, I suppose?" said Mrs. Needham, in loud and cheerfulaccents. "I am very pleased to see you" (De Burgh bowed); "and you, mydears--I am very glad to see you too, especially if you will be so goodas not to touch my china!"

"We haven't broken anything!" cried Cecil, coming up to her and givingher a dingy little paw, while he stared in her face. "Where is auntie?"

"She'll be here directly. This is Charlie: what a sweet little fellow!Why, your eyes are like your aunt's. "

"Do you think so?" said De Burgh, drawing near. "They are lighter--agood deal lighter. "

"Perhaps so. The shape and expression are like, though. And so you havebeen to see the lions and tigers?"

"And the bears, " put in Charlie. 

"Isn't Lord de Burgh kind to take you--"

"He _is!_ he's a jolly chap!" cried Cecil, warmly. "I shouldn't mindliving with him. "

"Nor I either, " added Charlie. 

Here Katherine made her appearance, a conscious look in her eyes, aflitting blush on her cheek. The boys immediately flew to hug and kissher, barely allowing her to shake hands with De Burgh. Then, when shesat down on the sofa, Charlie established himself on her knee and Cecilknelt on the sofa, the better to put his arms round her neck. 

"What dreadfully dirty little boys! What have you been doing toyourselves?"

"Oh, we have been on the elephant and the camel, and in the ostrichcart. Then Charlie tumbled down in the monkey-house. Oh, how funny themonkeys are! and he" (pointing to Lord de Burgh) "took us to dinner. Such a beautiful dinner in a lovely room! He says he will take us to thecircus. "

"I'll ask him to take you too, auntie!" cried Charlie. 

"Oh yes!" echoed Cecil. "You'll take her, Lord de Burgh, won't you? Idon't think auntie ever saw a circus. "

"If you promise to be _very_ good, and that your aunt too will be quietand well-behaved, I may be induced to let her come, " returned De Burgh, his deep-set eyes glittering with fun and anticipated pleasure. 

"Thank you, " said Katherine, laughing, as soon as her delighted nephewceased kissing her. 

"And you'll come?--the day after to-morrow? I will call for the boys, bring them round here. "

"If I have nothing special--" she began. 

"Certainly not; I will take care of that, " cried Mrs. Needham, "It issuch a great thing to get a little amusement for the poor littlefellows, and so very kind of Lord de Burgh to take so much trouble. "

"It is indeed. I really don't know how to thank you enough, " saidKatherine. "Mrs. Needham, I must really take them to wash their hands;they are so terribly dirty!"

"No; ring the bell; Ford will manage them nicely, and bring them back ina few minutes. " Mrs. Needham rang energetically as she spoke, and theyoung gentlemen were speedily marched off. 

"I am afraid I am not a wise child's guide, " said De Burgh, laughing;"but they ran and tumbled about till they got into an awful pickle. Theyare really capital little fellows, and most amusing. When do they goback to school?"

"In about ten days--on the 25th. I assure you I quite dread their goingto this Wandsworth place. They have been asking, entreating me to letthem go back to Sandbourne, but I think Cis at last grasps the idea thatit is a question of money. "

"It's an early initiation for him, " observed De Burgh, as if to himself. Then, eagerly: "You'll be sure to come with us on Friday, Miss Liddell?The boys will enjoy the performance ever so much more if you are withthem. "

Katherine looked for half a second at Mrs. Needham, who nodded andfrowned in a very energetic and affirmative way. "I shall be very gladto enjoy it with them, " she said, hesitatingly, "if Mrs. Needham canspare me. "

"Of course I can, "--briskly. "Lord de Burgh, if you care for music--notsevere classical music, you know--ballads, recitatives, and that sort ofthing--Hyacinth O'Hara, the new tenor, and Mr. Merrydew, that wonderfulmimic and singer, are coming to me next Tuesday; I shall be delighted tosee you. "

"Not so delighted, I am sure, as I shall be to come, " returned De Burgh, with unusual suavity. 

"Very well--half past nine. Don't be late, and don't forget. "

"No danger of forgetting, I assure you. "

"By-the-bye, " resumed Mrs. Needham, as if seized with a happy thought, "Angela Bradley receives on Sunday afternoons at their delightful villaat Wimbledon all through the season. Her first 'at home' will be theSunday after next. I am sure she will be delighted to see any friend ofMiss Liddell's. "

"If Miss Liddell will be so good as to answer for me, I shall be mosthappy to present myself. To make sure of being properly backed up, suppose I call here for Miss Liddell and yourself, and and drive youdown?

"Is it not rather far off to make arrangements?" asked Katherine, growing somewhat uneasy at thus drifting into a succession of ofengagements with the man she half liked, half dreaded. 

"Far off!" echoed Mrs. Needham. "You don't call ten days far off? But Imust run away and finish my letter. A journalist is the slave of herpen. Good morning, Lord de Burgh. I'll send the boys to you, Katherine. "

"That is an admirable and meritorious woman, " and De Burgh, drawing achair beside the sofa where Katherine sat. "Why are you so savagelyopposed to anything like friendly intercourse with me--so reluctant tolet me do anything for you? Do you think I am such a cad as to thinkthat _anything_ I could do would entitle me to consider you under anobligation?"

"No, indeed, Lord de Burgh! I believe you to be too true a gentlemanfor--"

"For what? I see you are afraid of giving me what is called, in theslang of the matrimonial market, encouragement. Just put all that out ofyour mind, Let me have a little enjoyment, however things may end, and, believe me, I'll never blame you. I am not going to trouble you with myhopes and wishes, not at least for some time; and then, whatever theupshot, on my head be it. "

"But I cannot bear to give you pain. "

"Then don't--"

"Auntie, we are quite clean. Won't you come back to tea at Miss Payne's?Do make her come, Lord de Burgh. "

"Ah, it is beyond my powers to make her do anything. "

"I cannot come now, my darlings; but I will be with you about half pastsix, and we'll have a game before you go to bed. "

"Come along, boys; we have intruded on your aunt long enough. Don'tforget the circus on Friday, Miss Liddell. "

Another hug from Cis and Charlie, a slight hand pressure from theirnewly found playfellow, and Katherine was left to her own reflections. 

The expedition to the circus was most successful. It was on his way fromWilton Street to call for Katherine, on this occasion, that De Burghencountered Mrs. Ormonde. Need we say that she lost no time in makingthe proposed call on her sister-in-law; unfortunately Katherine was out;so Mrs. Ormonde was reduced to writing a requisition for an interviewwith her boys and their aunt. 

This was accordingly planned at Miss Payne's house, and Mrs. Ormonde wasquite charming, playful, affectionate, tearful, repentant, apologeticfor "Ormonde, " and deeply moved at parting from her boys, who wheresomewhat awed by this display of feeling. Still she did not succeed inbreaking the "cold chain of silence" which Katherine persisted in"hanging" over the events of the past week. 

"So De Burgh took the boys about everywhere?" said Mrs. Ormonde, asKatherine went downstairs with her when she was leaving, and they werealone together. "It is something new for him to play the part ofchildren's maid; and, do you know, he only left cards on us, and neverasked to come in. "

"He was always good-natured, " returned Katherine, with someembarrassment; "and, you remember, he used to notice Cis and Charlie atCastleford a good deal. "

"Yes; after _you_ came, " significantly. "Never mind, Katie dear, I amnot going to worry you with troublesome questions; but I am sure no onein the world would be more delighted than myself _did_ you make abrilliant match. "

"Believe me, there will never be anything brilliant about me, Ada. "

"Well, we'll see. When do you take the boys to school?

"On Wednesday; should you like to come and see the place?"

"I should like it of all things, but I mustn't, dear. "

"I do hope the school may prove all I expect; but the change will be badfor Charlie. He had lost nearly all his nervousness; strange teachersand a new system may bring it back. "

"Oh, I hope not. Does he still stop short and speechless, and then laughas if it were a good joke, when he is puzzled or frightened?"

"Very rarely, I believe. I will write to you the day after I leave theboys at Wandsworth. They don't like going at all, poor dears. '

"Well, we shall not be much longer in town, I am sorry to say, and Iwant a few things from Miss Trant before I go. I suppose she will notraise her prices to me?"

"Oh no, I am sure she will not. "

CHAPTER XXXI. 

"MISS BRADLEY AT HOME. "

It was a bleak, blowy day when Katherine took the boys to school, and onreturning she went straight to Miss Payne, who had promised to have teaready for her. 

Somewhat to her regret, she found only Bertie Payne, who explained thathis sister had been called away about some business connected with alady with whom she was trying to come to terms respecting her house, which she had now decided on letting. 

"And how did you part with the boys?" he asked when he had given her acup of tea and brought her the most comfortable chair. 

"It was very hard to leave them, " returned Katherine, whose eyes lookedsuspiciously like recently shed tears. "The place did not look half sonice to-day as I thought it was. Everything is rough and ready. Thesecond master, too, is a harsh, severe-looking man. Of course he has notmuch authority; still, had I seen him, I do not think I should haveagreed to send Cis and Charlie there; but now I am committed to aquarter. I cannot afford to indulge whims, and, at all events, they arewithin an easy distance. Charlie looked so white, and clung to me as ifhe would never let me go! How hard life is!"

"This portion of it is, and wisely so. We must set our affections onthings above. I have been learning this lesson of late as I neverthought I should have to learn it. "

"_You_?--you who are so good, so unworldly? Oh, Mr. Payne, what do youmean? You are looking ill and worn. "

"I have been fighting a battle of late, " he returned, with his sweet, patient smile, "and I have conquered. The right road has been shown tome, the right way, and I am determined to walk in it. "

"What are you going to do?" asked Katherine, with a feeling of alarm. 

"I am going to take orders, and join the missionary ranks, either inIndia or China. Work in England was growing too easy--too heavenlysweet--to be any longer saving to my own soul. "

"But Mr. Payne, don't you see that your own poor country people have thefirst claim upon you--that you are leaving a work for which you are sowonderfully well suited, in which you are so successful? Oh, do think!Here you leave people of your own race, whose wants, whose charactersyou can understand, to run away to creatures of another climate--adifferent stock--whose natures, in my opinion, unfit them for a faithsuch as ours, and who never, never will accept our religion!"

"Hush!" cried Payne, in an excited tone. "Do not torture me by showingthe appalling gulf which separates us. Strange that a heart so tender asyours to all mere human miseries should yet be adamant against theSaviour's loving touch. This has been my cruel cross, and my only safetylies in flight, wretched man that I am!"

"I am dreadfully distressed about you, Mr. Payne. Does your sister know?It is really unkind to her. "

"That must not weigh with me. Even if the right hand offends you, 'cutit off, ' is the command. "

"At all events, you must study, or go though some preparation, beforeyou are ordained, and perhaps in that interval you may change yourviews. I do hope you will. I should be indeed sorry to lose sight of atrue friend like yourself. "

"A friend!" he returned, his brow contracting as if with pain. "You donot know the depths of my selfishness----"

The entrance of Miss Payne interrupted the conversation, and Bertieimmediately changing the subject, Katherine understood that he did notas yet intend to speak to his sister of his new plans. 

To Miss Payne, Katherine had again to describe her parting with hernephews, and she, in her turn, talked comfortably of her affairs. Shethought of going abroad for a short time should she let her house, asnothing very eligible offered in the shape of a young lady to chaperon. Indeed she was somewhat tired of that sort of life, etc. , etc. At lengthKatherine bade them adieu, and returned to her present abode with a verysad heart. 

The parting with her nephews had been a sore trial. The idea of Bertie, her kind friend, whose sympathetic companionship had helped her so muchto overcome the poignancy of her first grief for her dear mother, goingaway to banishment, and perhaps death, at the hands of those whose soulshe went to save, caused her the keenest pain; and for nearly a fortnightshe had not seen Errington! She could not bring herself to ask where hewas, and no one had happened to mention him. This was really better. Hisabsence should be a help to forgetfulness; but somehow it was not. Hewas so vividly before her eyes; his voice sounded so perpetually in herheart. 

Why could she not think thus of De Burgh, whose devotion to her wasevident, and whom, in spite of herself as it seemed, she was, to acertain degree, encouraging?

She felt unutterably helpless and oppressed. Moreover, she wasdistressed by the consciousness that the small reserve fund which shehad with difficulty preserved, could barely meet unexpected demands suchas removing the boys from school, if necessary, an attack of illness, adozen contingencies, any or all of which were possible, if not imminent. 

Such a mood made her feel peculiarly unfit to shine at Mrs. Needham'sreception. Still it was better to be obliged to talk and to think aboutothers than to brood perpetually on her own troubles. So she arrayedherself in one of the pretty soft grey demi-toilette dresses whichremained among her well-stocked wardrobe, and prepared to assist herchief in receiving her guests, who soon flocked in so rapidly as to makeseparate receptions impossible. Miss Bradley came early, arrayed inwhite silk and lace with diamond stars in her coronet of thickly-plaitedred hair. She was looking radiantly well--so well and unusually animatedthat her aspect struck sudden terror into Katherine's heart; somethinghad gladdened her heart to give that expression of joyous softness toher eyes. But it was weak and contemptible to let this sudden fearovermaster her, so she strove to be amused and interested in theconversation of those she knew, and her acquaintance had increasedenormously since she came to reside with Mrs. Needham. 

Presently Katherine caught sight of a stately head above the generallevel of the crowd, and a pair of grave eyes evidently seekingsomething. Who was Errington looking for? Miss Bradley, of course! Asshe arrived at this conclusion, De Burgh appeared at the head of thestairs, looking, as he always did, extremely distinguished--his darkstrong face showing in remarkable contrast to the simpering youngminstrels, pale young poets, and long-haired professors who formed thelarger half of the male guests. 

"Well, Miss Liddell, are you quite well and flourishing? Why, it isquite three days since I saw you, " he asked, and his eyes dwelt on herwith a look of utter restful satisfaction--a look that disturbed her. 

"Is it, indeed? They seem all rolled into a single disagreeable one tome. "

"Tell me all about it, " said De Burgh, in a low confidential tone. "Mustyou stand here in the gangway? it's awfully hot and crowded. "

Before she could reply, Errington forced his way through the crowd, andaddressed her. 

"I began to fear I should not find you, Miss Liddell, " he said, with apleasant smile. "I have been away for some time--though perhaps you werenot aware of it. "

"I was aware we did not see you as frequently as usual. Where have youbeen?"

"On a secret and delicate mission which taxed all my diplomatic skill, for I had to deal with an extremely crotchetty Scotchman. "

"You make me feel desperately curious, " said Katherine, languidly. 

"How do you do, Errington?" put in De Burgh. "I heard of you inEdinburgh last week;" and they exchanged a few words. Then, toKatherine's annoyance, De Burgh said, with an air of proprietorship, "Iam going to take Miss Liddell out of this mob, to have tea and air, ifwe can get any. I have to hear news, too, " he added, significantly. 

Errington grew very grave, and drew back immediately with a slight bow, as if he accepted a dismissal. 

There was no help for it, so Katherine took De Burgh's offered arm andwent downstairs. 

"I wonder what the secret mission could have been?" said Katherine, whenthey found themselves in the tea-room. 

"God knows! I wonder Errington did not go in for diplomacy when hesmashed up. He is just the man for protocols, and solemn mysteries, andall that. "

"Men cannot jump into diplomatic appointments, can they?"

"No, I suppose not. I hear some of Errington's political articles haveattracted Lord G----'s notice; they say he'll be in Parliament one ofthese days. Well, he deserves to win, if that sort of thing be worthwinning. "

"Of course it is. Have you no ambition, Lord de Burgh? Were I a man, Ishould be very ambitious. "

"I have no doubt you would; and if you had a husband you'd drive him upthe ladder at the bayonet's point. "

"Poor man! I pity him beforehand. "

"I don't, " returned De Burgh, shortly. "Do you know, I have just beendining with Ormonde and his wife, not as their guest, but at Lady MaryVincent's. Tell me, hasn't he behaved rather badly to you? I want toknow, because I don't want to cut him without reason. "

"Pray do not cut him on my account, Lord de Burgh. Colonel Ormonde hasvery naturally, for a man of his calibre, felt disgusted at my inabilityto carry out my original arrangements respecting my nephews, and heshowed his displeasure, after his kind, with remarkable frankness; but Iam not the least angry, and I beg you will make no difference for mysake. "

"If you really wish it--" he paused, and then went on--"Mrs. Ormondewhined a good deal to me in a corner about her affection for you, herhard fate, Ormonde's brutality, etc. , etc. ; she is a _rusee_ littledevil. "

"Poor Ada! I fancy she has not had a pleasant time of it. Had she been awoman of feeling, it would have been too dreadful. . . . "

"Well, you make your mind easy on that score. Now, what about the boys?"

Katherine was vexed to find how impossible it was to talk of them withcomposure; she was unhinged in some unaccountable way, and Lord deBurgh's ill-repressed tenderness made her feel nervous. At length sheasked him to come upstairs and look for Mrs. Needham, as her head ached, and she thought she would like to retire if she could be spared. 

"Yes, you had better--you don't seem up to much, " he returned, pressingher hand slightly against his side. "I can't bear to see you lookworried and ill. That's not a civil speech, I suppose; but, ill or well, you _know_ your face is always the sweetest to me, and I am always dyingto know what you are thinking of. There, I will not worry you now; butshall you be 'fit' for this function on Sunday?"

"Oh, yes, quite. "

"I am obliged to run down to Wales--some matters there want the master'seye, they tell me--but I shall return Friday or Saturday. By the way, Iwish you would introduce me to this wonderful Angela of Mrs. Needham's. "

"Certainly. "

On entering the drawing-room, the first forms that met their eyes wereErrington and Miss Bradley; she was sitting in a large crimson velvetchair, against the back of which Errington was leaning. Angela waslooking up at him with a peculiarly happy, absorbed expression, whilehis head was bent towards her. 

"She is deucedly handsome, " said De Burgh, critically, "and much toopleasantly engaged to be interrupted. I can wait. "

"Yes, I think it would be unkind to break in on such a conversation. Oh, here is Mrs. Needham! Do you want me very much, Mrs. Needham? because, if not, I should like to go to bed. I have a tiresome headache. "

"Go by all means, my dear; you are looking like a ghost; they are alltalking and amusing each other now, and don't want you or me. " "Goodnight, then, " said Katherine, giving her hand to De Burgh, and sheglided away. 

"What a lot she takes out of herself!" said De Burgh, looking after her. 

"She does indeed, " cried Mrs. Needham; "she is so unselfish. I hate tosee her worried. I wonder if he has proposed?" she thought. 

"I think he is pretty far gone. Now pray don't run away just now;Merrydew is going to give one of his musical sketches, and then I wantto introduce you to Professor Gypsum. He thinks there ought to be a richcoal seam on your South Wales property; he is a most intelligent, accomplished man. "

"Very well--with pleasure, " said De Burgh, complacently. 

It was rather a relief to be quite sure that De Burgh was safe out ofthe way for a few days. His presence always disturbed her with a mixedsense of pain and self-reproach. He gave her no opening to warn him off, yet she felt that he lost no opportunity of pushing his mines up to thedefences; and she liked him--liked him sincerely--always believing therewas much undeveloped goodness under his rough exterior. 

Sunday came quickly, for the intervening days had been very fullyoccupied, and thus Katherine had been saved from too much thought of theboys and their possible trials. 

It was a soft, lovely spring day. The lilacs and laburnums had put ontheir ball-dresses for the season, and there was a fresh, youthfulfeeling in the air. The villa of which Angela was the happy mistress wasone of the few old places standing on the edge of the common atWimbledon, and boasting mossy green lawns, huge cedar trees, anddelightful shrubberies, paths leading through a well-disposed patch ofplantation, and a fine view from the windows of the deep red-brickmansion, with its copings, window-heads, and pediments of white stone. 

Katherine started with a brave determination to throw off dull care andenjoy herself, if possible--why should she not? Life had many sides, and, though the present was gloomy, there was no reason why its cloudsshould not hide bright sunshine which lay awaiting the future. She hadmanoeuvred that Mrs. Needham should join an elderly couple of theiracquaintance in an open carriage, and so avoided appearing in Lord deBurgh's elegant equipage. 

The grounds were already dotted with gaily dressed groups; for, althoughthere were no formally invited guests, Miss Bradley's Sundays werelargely attended by her extensive circle of acquaintance, and this firstSabbath of really fine spring weather brought a larger number thanusual. 

"I am glad you put on that pretty black and white dress, " whispered Mrs. Needham, as they alighted and went into the hall. "I see everyone is intheir best bibs and tuckers;--isn't it a lovely house! Ah! many a poorauthor's brain has paid toll to provide all this. "

"I suppose so. "

"Miss Bradley is in the conservatory, " said a polite butler, and into adeliciously fragrant conservatory they were ushered. 

"Very glad to see you, Miss Liddell, " said Angela, kindly, when she hadgreeted Mrs. Needham. "This is your first visit to the Court. Do youknow I wanted to ask you to come down to us for a few days; but, when Ilooked for you at Mrs. Needham's the other night, you had vanished, andsince I have been so much taken up, as I will explain later, that I havebeen quite unable to write. I hope you will manage to pay us a visitnext week; the air here is most reviving. "

"You are too good, Miss Bradley, " returned Katherine, touched by herkind tone. "If Mrs. Needham can spare me, I shall of course be delightedto come;" and she resolved mentally that she should _not_ be spared. 

"Major Urquhart, " continued Miss Bradley, turning to a very tall, thin, soldierly-looking man, who might once have been fair, but was now burntto brickdust hue, with long tawny moustache and thick overhangingeyebrows of the same color, "pray take Miss Liddell round the grounds, and show her my favorite fernery. "

Major Urquhart bowed low and presented his arm. 

"I see, " continued Angela, "that Mrs. Needham is already absorbed by adozen dear friends. "

"You have not been here before, " said Major Urquhart, in a deep hollowvoice. 

"Never. "

"Charming place! immensely improved since I went to India five yearsago. "

"Miss Bradley has great taste, " remarked Katherine. 

"Wonderful--astonishing; she has made all this fernery since I was herelast. "

Then there was a long pause, and a few more sentences expressive ofadmiration were exchanged, and somehow Katherine began to feel that hercompanion was rather bored and preoccupied, so she turned her stepstowards the house, intending to release him. 

At the further side of the fernery, in a pretty path between greenbanks, they suddenly met Errington face to face. 

"Miss Bradley wants you, Urquhart, " he said, as soon as they hadexchanged salutations. "You may leave Miss Liddell in my charge, if shewill permit. " Major Urquhart bowed himself off, and Errington continued, "You would not suspect that was a very distinguished officer. "

"I don't know; he seems very silent and inanimate. "

"Well, I assure you he is a very fine fellow, and did great deeds inthe Mutiny. But come, the lawn is looking quite picturesque in thesunshine, with the groups of people scattered about. It would be perfectwere it sleeping in the tranquil silence of a restful Sabbath day. "

"Are you not something of a hermit in your tastes?" asked Katherine, looking up at him with one of her sunny smiles. 

"By no means. I like the society of my fellow-men, but I like a spell ofsolitude every now and then, as a rest and refreshment on the dusty roadof life. "

"I begin to think peace the greatest boon heaven can bestow. "

"Yes, after the late vicissitudes, it must seem to you the greatestgood. Let us sit down under this cedar; there is a pretty peep acrossthe common to the blue distance. We might be a hundred miles fromLondon, everything is so calm. "

They sat silent for a few moments, a sense of peace and safety stealingover Katherine's heart. 

Suddenly Errington turned to her, and said, "Our friend De Burgh can scarcely know himself in his new condition. "

"He seems remarkably at home, however. I hope he will distinguishhimself as an enlightened and benevolent legislator. "

"He must be a good deal changed if he does. You have seen a great dealof him, I believe, since he returned to London?"

"I have seen him several times. He seems to get on with Mrs. Needham. "

"With Mrs. Needham?" repeated Errington, in a slightly mocking tone, andelevating his eyebrows in a way that made Katherine blush for heruncandid remark. 

"Well, Mrs. Needham seems to have taken immensely to him. "

"I can understand that. De Burgh has wherewithal now to recommend him tomost party-giving dowagers. "

"That speech is not like you, Mr. Errington; you know my dear good chiefis utterly uninfluenced by worldly considerations. Lord de Burgh hasbeen very good and helpful to me with the boys, I assure you, " saidKatherine, feeling that she changed color under Errington's watchfuleyes. 

"Yes, I have no doubt he could be boundlessly kind where he wishes toplease--more, I think he _is_ a generous fellow; but--I am going to beill-natured, " he said, with a slight change of tone, "and, as you haveallowed me the privilege of a friend, I must beg you to reflect that DeBurgh is a man of imperious temper, given to somewhat reckless seekingof what he desires, and not too steady in his attachments. Though inevery sense a man of honor, and by no means without heart, yet I fear asa companion he would be disturbing, if not----"

"Why do you warn me?" cried Katherine, growing somewhat pale. "And whathas poor Lord de Burgh done to earn your disapprobation?"

"I know I am somewhat Quixotic and unguarded in speaking thus to you;but it would be affectation to say I did not perceive De Burgh's verynatural motive. There is much about him that is attractive to women, apart from his exceptional fortune and position; but I doubt if hecould make a woman like you happy. If the ease and luxury he couldbestow ever prove tempting, I do not think that anything except sincereaffection would enable you to surmount the difficulty of dealing with acharacter like his. "

While Errington spoke with quiet but impressive earnestness, a perversespirit entered into Katherine Liddell. Here was this man, sailingtriumphantly on the crest of good fortune, about to ally himself to awoman, good, certainly, and suited to him, but also rich enough to sethim above all care and money troubles, urging counsels of perfection on_her_. Why was she to be advised to reject a man who certainly loved herby one who only felt a temperate and condescending friendship for her?How could he judge what amount of influence De Burgh's affection forherself might give her?

"I ought to feel deeply grateful to you for overstepping the limits ofconventionality in order to give me what is, no doubt, sound advice. "

"Do you mean that as a rebuke?" asked Errington, leaning a littleforward to look into her eyes. "Do you not think that a friendship, founded as ours is on most exceptional and unconventional circumstances, gives me a sort of right to speak of matters which may prove of the lastimportance to you? You cannot realize how deeply interested I am in yourwelfare, how ardently I desire your happiness. "

The sincerity of his tone thrilled Katherine with pain and pleasure. Itwas delightful to hear him speak thus, yet it would be better for hernever to hear his voice again. 

"I daresay I am petulant, " she said, looking down, "and you aregenerally right; but don't you think in this case you are looking toofar ahead, and attributing motives to Lord de Burgh of which he may beentirely innocent?"

"Of that you are the best judge, " returned Errington, coldly; andsilence fell upon them--a silence which Katherine felt to be so awkwardthat she rose, saying, "I must find Mrs. Needham; she will wonder where I am;" and, Erringtonmaking no objection, they strolled slowly towards the front of thehouse, where most of the visitors were standing or sitting about. 

There they soon discovered Mrs. Needham, in lively conversation withLord de Burgh, who was a good deal observed by those present as his nameand position were well known to almost all of Mrs. Needham's set. Heturned quickly to greet Katherine, and spoke not too cordially toErrington, who after some talk with Mrs. Needham, quietly withdrew, andkept rather closely to Angela's side. 

The rest of the afternoon was spoiled for Katherine by a sense ofirritation with Lord de Burgh, who scarcely left her, thereby making herso conspicuous that she could hardly refrain from telling him. 

"What is the matter with you?" asked De Burgh, as they walked, togetherbehind Mrs. Needham to the gate where their carriage awaited them. "Doyou know you have hardly said a civil word to me--what have I done?"

"You are mistaken! I never meant to be uncivil, I am only tired, and Ihave rather a headache. "

"You often have headaches. Are you sure the ache is in your _head_?"

"No, I am not, " said Katherine, frankly. "Don't you know what it is tobe out of sorts?"

"Don't I, though? If that's what ails you I can understand you wellenough. I wish you would let me prescribe for you: a nice long wanderingthrough Switzerland, over some old passes into Italy (they are moredelicious than ever, now that they are deserted), and then a winter inRome. "

"Thank you, " returned Katherine, laughing. "Perhaps you might alsorecommend horse exercise on an Arab steed. "

"Yes, I should. You would look stunning in a habit. "

"Dreams, idle dreams, Lord de Burgh. I shall be all right to-morrow. "

"I intend to come and see you if you are, " he returned, significantly. 

"To-morrow I shall be out all the afternoon, " said Katherine, quickly. 

"Some other day then, " he replied, with resolution. 

"Good-morning, Lord de Burgh, or rather good evening, for it is seveno'clock, " said Mrs. Needham. "Charming place, isn't it?"

"Very nice, indeed. I suppose I have the freedom of the house now, through your favor. "

"Certainly; good-bye, come and see us soon. "

"May I?" he whispered, as he handed Katherine into the carriage. 

She smiled and shook her head, looking so sweet and arch that De Burghcould not help pressing her hand hard as he muttered something of whichshe could only catch the word "mischief. "

"Well, " said Mrs. Needham, when they had left the villa behind, and shehad succeeded in wrapping a woollen scarf closely round her throat, forthe evening had grown chill, "I knew I was right all along, and now oldBradley himself has as good as told me that Angela is engaged toErrington. "

"Indeed!" said the lady, who shared their conveyance. "What did he say?"

"He was sitting with me on the lawn, and Miss Bradley went past betweenErrington and that tall military-looking man, who did not seem to knowanyone; so I just remarked what a distinguished sort of person Mr. Errington was, and Bradley, looking after him in an exulting sort ofway, said, "Distinguished! I believe you. That man, ma-am, " (you knowhis style) "will be in the front rank before long. I recognized hispower from the first, and, what's more, so did Angela. I am going togive a proof of my confidence in him that will astonish everyone; you'llhear of it in a week or two. " Now what can that mean but that he isgoing to trust his daughter to him? You see, Errington is like a son ofthe house. I am heartily glad, for I have reason to know that he hasbeen greatly attached to her a considerable time, and they are admirablysuited. "

"Well! he is a very lucky fellow; independent of all the money Bradleyhas made, this new magazine of his is a splendid property. "

And Katherine, listening in silence, told herself that one chapter ofher life was closed for ever. 

CHAPTER XXXII. 

ILL MET. 

A note from Mrs. Ormonde next morning informed Katherine that she hadreturned to Castleford, and recorded her deep regret that she could notcall before leaving town, but that time was too short, although they haddelayed their departure for a couple of days. 

"We met Lord de Burgh at Lady Mary Vincent's; you can't think what afuss she made about him. I remember when she would not let him insideher doors. He is older and more abrupt than ever. He told me he wasgoing to meet you at Mrs. Needham's, and said hers was the only house inLondon worth going to. I suspect there is great fortune in store foryou, Katie, and no friend will rejoice at it more warmly than I shall. Do write and tell me all about everything; it is frightfully dull downhere. "Your ever attached sister, "ADA. "

Beyond a passing sensation of annoyance that De Burgh should make adisplay of his acquaintance with Mrs. Needham and herself, this epistlemade no impression on Katherine, who was glad to have an unusual amountof work for Mrs. Needham, who had started--or rather promised herassistance in starting--a new scheme for extracting wax candle out ofpeat. Respecting this she was immensely sanguine, for the first time inher life she was to be properly remunerated for her trouble, and in ayear or two would make her fortune. 

The day flew past with welcome rapidity, and in the evening Katherinewas swept off to a "first-night representation, " which, though by nomeans first-rate, helped to draw Katherine out of herself, and helpedher to vanquish vain regrets. 

"You'll make a dozen copies of those notes please, dear, " said Mrs. Needham, as she stood dressed to go out after an early luncheon thefollowing day, "and I'll sign them when I come in; then there is thenotice of the play for my Dullertoova letter, and be sure you send thoseextracts from the _Weekly Review_ to Angela Bradley. You know all therest; if I am not home by seven don't wait dinner for me. "

Katherine had scarcely settled to her task, when the servant entered tosay that Lord De Burgh would be glad to speak to her, as he had amessage from Mrs. Needham. 

"How strange!" murmured Katherine, adding aloud, "Then show him in. "

"I have just met Mrs. Needham, and she told me to give you this, " saidDe Burgh, handing a card to Katherine as soon as she had shaken handswith him. It was one of her own cards, and on the back was scribbled, "Don't mind the notes. "

"How extraordinary!" cried Katherine. "I thought they were of the lastimportance. What did she say to you? you must have met her directly shewent out!"

"I think I did. I was coming through the narrow part of Kensington, andwas stopped by a block; just caught sight of your chief, and jumped outof my cab to have a word with her. She told me I should find you, andgave me that. " De Burgh went on: "So this is the tremendous laboratorywhere Mrs. Needham forges her thunderbolts, " looking round with somecuriosity. 

"And where _I_ forge _my_ thunderbolts, said Katherine, laughing. 

"Thunderbolts!" echoed De Burgh, looking keenly at her. "No! where youlaunch the lightning that either withers or kindles life-giving flames. "

"Really, Lord De Burgh, you are positively poetical! I never dreamed ofyour developing this faculty when you tried to teach me how to drive atCastleford. "

"No! it did not exist then--now I want to tell you of the cause of itsgrowth, you have silenced me often enough. To-day I will speak, Katherine. "

"If you please, 'm--there's twopence to pay, " said the demure Ford, advancing with a letter. 

Half amused and partly relieved by the interruption, Katherine soughtfor and produced the requisite coin, and then took the letter with alook of some anxiety. 

"It is my own writing, " she said, "it is one of the envelopes I leftwith Cis. " Opening it and glancing at the contents her color rose, andher bosom heaved. "Oh! do look at this, " she cried. 

De Burgh rose and read over her shoulder. 

 "DEAR AUNTIE, "I hope you are quite well. We have had a dreadful row! Charlie couldnot say his lesson, so Mr. Sells roared at him like a bull. Charlie gotinto one of his fits, you know, and then he burst out laughing. Mr. Sells went into such a rage; he laid hold of him and whipped him allover, and I ran to break the cane. I hit his nose with my head so hardthat the blood came. I was glad to see the blood; then they locked usboth up. I have no stamp. Do come and take us away, do do do!

 "Your loving, "CIS. "

"P. S. --If you don't come we'll run away to the gipsies on the common. "

"The scoundrel! I'll go and thrash him within an inch of his life!"cried De Burgh, when they had finished this epistle. 

"I should like to do it myself, " said Katherine in a low fierce tone, starting up and crushing the letter in an angry grip. 

"By Jove! I wish you could, I fancy you'd punish him pretty severely, "returned De Burgh admiringly. 

"I must go--go at once, " continued Katherine, her lips trembling, herlustrous eyes filling. "Think of the tender, fragile, sweet boy--who isan angel in nature--beaten by a _dog_ like that! Lord de Burgh, I mustleave you, I must go at once. "

"Yes, of course, " said De Burgh, standing between her and the door; "butnot alone. May I come with you?"

Katherine paused, and put her hand to her head. 

"No, I think you had better not. "

"I will do whatever you like. Take Miss Payne with you--she is a shrewdwoman--and consult with her what you had better do. Shall you remove theboys?"

She paused again before replying, looking rapidly, despairingly round. These changes had cost her a good deal, and she had not much to go onwith unless she broke into the deposit which she hoped to preserveintact for a long time to come. 

"I do not know where to put them, " she said, and there was a sound oftears in her voice. 

"You can do whatever you choose, " said De Burgh, emphatically, "only, while you are driving down to this confounded place, make up your mindwhat to do. I wish you would feel yourself free to do anything or payanything. While you are dressing, I will go round to Miss Payne andbring her back with me; then you must take my carriage, it will savetime; and don't exaggerate the effects of this whipping, a few impatientcuts with a cane over his jacket would not hurt him much. "

"Hurt him, no; crush and terrify him, yes. It will be months before hecan forget it; and I told the head master of Charlie's peculiarlynervous temperament--this man seems to be an assistant. I will take youradvice, Lord de Burgh, and make some plan with Miss Payne. I hope shewill be able to come. "

"She must--she shall, " cried De Burgh, impetuously, and he hastily leftthe room. 

By the time Katherine had put on her out-door dress, and written anexplanatory line to Mrs. Needham, De Burgh returned with Miss Payne. 

"You must tell me all about it as we go along, " said that lady, asKatherine took her place beside her, "and you must do nothing rash. "

"Oh no, if I can only prevent a recurrence of such a scene. I am mostgrateful to you for your kind help, Lord de Burgh. I will let you knowhow things are settled. "

"Thank you. I shall be glad of a line; but I shall call to-morrow tohear a full and true account. Now, what's the name of the place?"

"Birch Grove, Wandsworth Common. "

De Burgh gave the necessary directions, and the big black horse tossedup his head, and dashed off at swift trot. Deep was the discussion whichensued, and which ended in deciding that they would be guided bycircumstances. 

The arrival of Miss Liddell was evidently most unexpected. She and hercompanion were shown into the guest-parlor, where, after a while, Mr. Lockwood, the principal, made his appearance. 

"This is an unexpected pleasure, Miss Liddell. May I ask the reason ofyour visit?"

Whereupon Katherine spoke more temperately than Miss Payne expected, describing Cecil's letter, and reminding him that she had fullyexplained Charlie's nervous weakness, and stating that, if she could notbe assured such treatment should not occur again, she must remove theboy. 

The 'dominie, ' apparently touched by her tone, answered with equalfrankness. He had been called away by unavoidable business at thebeginning of the term, and had forgotten to warn his assistantrespecting Liddell minor. He regretted the incident; indeed, he hadintended to inform Miss Liddell of the unfortunate occurrence, butextreme occupation must plead his excuse. Miss Liddell might be surethat it should never happen again; indeed, her nephews were verypromising boys--the youngest a little young for his school, but it wasall the better for him to be accustomed to a higher standard. He hoped, now that this unpleasantness was over, all would go on well. 

"I hope so, Mr. Lockwood, " returned Katherine; "but should my nephew beagain punished for what he cannot help, I shall immediately remove himand his brother. "

"So I understand, madam, " said the schoolmaster, who was visibly muchannoyed by the whole affair. "I presume you would like to see the boys?"

"Yes, certainly. Will you be so good as to grant them a half-holiday?"

This was agreed to, and in a few minutes Cis and Charlie were hanginground their aunt. 

"Oh, auntie dear, have you come to take us away?"

"No, dears, but I have talked to Mr. Lockwood;" and she explained thefact that Mr. Sells did not know that Charlie's laughter wasinvoluntary. 

The poor little fellow did not complain of his aunt's decision; he justlaid his head on her shoulders and cried silently. This was worse thanany other line of conduct. Cis declared his intention of running awayforthwith; however, when matters were laid before him and the joys of ahalf-holiday set forth, he consented to try 'old Sells' a little longer, and then Katherine took them back to Wilton Street, where they spent aquiet happy afternoon with their aunt, to whom they poured out theirhearts, and were finally taken back by the polite Francois. 

"You are the kindest of much enduring employers, " said Katherine, gratefully, when she joined Mrs. Needham at dinner. "I earnestly hope mysudden desertion has not inconvenienced you. Now I am ready to work farinto the night to make up for lost time. "

"Oh, you need not do that; I changed my plans after I met Lord de Burgh, and came home to write here. Now tell me all about those poor dears andthat brute of a master. "

The excitement of this expedition over, Katherine felt rather depressedand nervous the next morning. She dreaded Lord de Burgh's visit, yet didnot absolutely wish to avoid it. It was due to him that the sort ofprobation which he had voluntarily instituted should come to an end. She could not allow herself to be made conspicuous by the constantattentions of a man who was known to be about the best match in London, yet she was genuinely sorry to lose him--as a friend he had been so kindand thoughtful about the boys too! Well, she would be frank andsympathetic, and soften her refusal as much as possible. How she wishedit were over, she found writing an impossible task, and Mrs. Needham, noticing her restlessness, observed, with a grave smile, "I expect you will have some very good news for me this afternoon! I amgoing out to luncheon. "

"No, dear Mrs. Needham, I do not think I shall, " returned Katherine. "Ifear----"

"Lord de Burgh is in the drawing room, " said the parlor-maid. 

"Go, Katherine, " cried Mrs. Needham; "and don't tell me there is anydoubt about your having good news! You deserve bread and water for therest of your natural life if you don't take the goods the gods provide. "

Katherine hesitated, smiled miserably, and left the room. 

"Well, and how did you find the poor little chap?" were De Burgh's firstwords. "There's nothing wrong, I hope?--you look as white as a ghost, and your hand is quite cold;" placing his left on it, as it lay in hisgrasp. "The boys are well?"

"Yes, quite well, and reconciled with some difficulty to remain wherethey are, " she returned, disengaging herself and sinking rather thansitting down into a corner of a sofa nearest her. 

"Then what has upset you? I suppose, " softening his voice, "the wholething was too much for you. "

"I daresay I excited myself more than I need have done, but I think mylittle Charlie is safe for the future. "

"Do you know that it makes me half mad to see that look of distress inyour eyes, to see the color fading out of your cheeks! Katherine, Ican't hold my tongue any longer. I thought I was far gone when I used tocount the days between my visits to Sandbourne; I am a good deal worsenow that you have let me be a sort of chum! Life without you issomething I don't care to face, I don't indeed! Why don't you make upyour mind to take me for better for worse? I'll try to be all better;just think how happy we might be! Those boys should have the besttraining money or care could get; and, Katherine, I'm not a bad fellow!Now you know me better, you must feel that I should never be a badfellow to _you_. "

"You are a very good fellow, Lord de Burgh, that I quite believe; but(it pains me so much to say it) I really do not love you as I ought, and, unless I do love I dare not marry. "

"Why not?--that is, if you don't love some other fellow. Will you tellme if any man stands in my way?"

"No, indeed, Lord de Burgh; who could I love?"

"That is impossible to say; however, your word is enough. If your heartis free, why not let me try to win it? and the opportunities afforded bymatrimony are endless; you are the sort of woman who would be faithfulto whatever you undertook, and when you saw me day by day living foryou, and you only, you'd grow to love me! Just think of the boys runningwild at Pont-y garvan in the holidays, and----By heaven, my head reelswith such a dream of happiness. "

"I am a wretch, I know, " said Katherine, the tears in her eyes, hervoice breaking; "but I know myself. I am a very lawless individual, and--you had better not urge me. "

"What is your objection to me? I haven't been a saint, but I have neverdone anything I am ashamed of. Why do you shrink from life with me?Come, cast your doubts to the winds, and give me your sweet self. Thereis no one to love you as I do, and I swear your life shall be a summerholiday. "

His words struck her with sudden conviction. It was true there was noone to love her as he did, and what a tower of refuge he would be to theboys! Why should she not think of him? He had been very true to her. Whyshould she not drive out the haunting image of the man who did not loveher by the living presence of the man who did? But, if she accepted him, she must confess her crime; she could not keep such an act hidden fromthe man who was ready to give his life to her. How awful this would be!And he might reject her; then her fate would be decided for her. Lord deBurgh saw that she hesitated, and pressed her eagerly for a decision. 

"You deserve so much gratitude for your kindness, your faithfulness, that--ah! do let me think, " covering up her face with her hands. "It issuch a tremendous matter to decide. "

"Yes, of course, you shall think as much as ever you like, " cried DeBurgh, rapturously, telling himself "that she who deliberates is lost. ""Take your own time, only don't say _no_, " ferociously. "Reflect on theimmense happiness you can bestow, the good you can do. Why do youshiver, my darling? If you wish it, I'll go now this moment, and I'llnot show my face till--till the day after to-morrow, if you like. "

"The day after to-morrow? that is but a short space to decide somomentous a question. "

"If you can't make up your mind in twenty-four hours, neither can you intwo hundred and forty. I don't want to hurry you, but you must have someconsideration for me; imagine my state of mind. Why, I'll be on the racktill we meet again. I fancy a conscientious woman is about the cruellestcreature that walks! However, I'll stick to my promise: I will notintrude on you till the day after to-morrow. Then I will come at eleveno'clock for your answer; and, Katherine, my love, my life, it must be'yes. '"

He took and kissed her hand more than once, then he went swiftly away. 

The hours which succeeded were painfully agitated. Katherine felt thatDe Burgh had every right to consider himself virtually accepted. Sheliked him--yes, certainly she liked him, and might have loved him, butfor her irresistible, unreasonable, unmaidenly attachment to Errington. If she made up her mind to marry him, that would fill her heart andrelieve it from the dull aching which had strained it so long; once awife, she would never give a thought save to her own husband, but, before she reached the profound and death-like peace of such a position, she must tell her story to De Burgh--and how would he take it? With allhis ruggedness, he had a keen and delicate sense of honor; still shefelt his passion for her would overcome all obstacles for the time, buthow would it be afterwards, when they had settled down to the routine ofevery-day life? It would be a tremendous experiment, but she could notlet him enter on that close union in ignorance of the blot on herscutcheon, and then the door would be closed on the earlier half of herlife, which had been so bitter-sweet. How little peace she had knownsince her mother's death! how heavenly sweet her life had been when sheknew no deeper care than to shield that dear mother from anxiety andtrouble! and now there was no one belonging to her on whose wisdom andstrength she had a right to rely. Perhaps, after all, it might be betterto accept De Burgh, and end her uncertainties. Though by no means givento weeping, Katherine could not recover composure until after the reliefof a copious flood of tears. 

"Well, dear!" cried Mrs. Needham, when they were left together afterdinner, "I am just bursting with curiosity. What news have you for me?and what have you been doing with yourself? You look ghastly, and Ipositively believe you have been crying. What have you done? I can'tbelieve that you have refused Lord de Burgh--you couldn't be such amadwoman! Why you might lead----"

"How do you know he gave me an opportunity?" interrupted Katherine, witha faint smile. 

"Don't talk like that, dear!" said Mrs. Needham, severely. "What wouldbring Lord de Burgh here day after day but trying to win you? I havebeen waiting for what I knew was inevitable; now, Katherine, tell me, have you rejected him?"

"No, Mrs. Needham, I have asked him for time to reflect. "

"Oh, that is all right, " in a tone of satisfaction, "and only means aturn of the rack while you can handle the screws; of course you'llaccept him when he comes again. After all, though there are plenty ofunhappy marriages, there is no joy so delightful as reciprocalaffection. I am sure I never saw a creature so glorified by love asAngela Bradley; she told me at Mrs. Cochrane's she had a wonderful pieceof news for me, and, when I said perhaps I knew it, she beamed all overand squeezed my hand as she whispered, "Perhaps you do!" I saw herdriving Errington in her pony-carriage afterwards, and meeting oldCaptain Everard just then, he nodded after them and said, 'That's anexcellent arrangement; the wedding, I hear, is fixed for thetwenty-ninth of next month. ' Now, I don't quite believe _that_; Angelawould certainly have told me, but I am sure it will come off soon. I amglad for both their sakes. "

"I am sure they will make a very happy couple, and I really believe Ishall follow their example. "

"Quite right! The double event will make a sensation, my dear child: tosee _you_ happily and splendidly settled will be the greatest joy I haveknown for years, and what will Colonel Ormonde say?"

"I neither know nor care; and, Mrs. Needham, if you don't mind, I willgo to bed. I have _such_ a headache. "

The fateful morning found Katherine resolved and composed. 

She would tell De Burgh everything, and, if her revelation did notfrighten him away, she would try to make him happy and to be happyherself. It would be painful to tell him, but oh! nothing compared withthe agony of humiliation it cost her to prostrate herself morally beforeErrington. Still she would be glad when the confession was over;afterwards, feeling her destiny decided, she would be calmer and moreresigned. Resigned? what a term to apply to her acceptance of an honestman's hearty affection; for, whatever De Burgh's life may have been, hehad said he had done nothing he was ashamed of. By some unconsciousimpulse she dressed herself in black, and went down to the drawing-roomwith her knitting, that she might be ready to receive the man who, anhour later, might be her affianced husband. 

On the stairs she met Ford, who informed her that Miss Trant was waitingfor her. Katherine felt glad of any interruption to her thoughts, especially as she knew that the arrival of a visitor would be the signalfor Rachel's departure. 

"I am so glad to see you, " exclaimed Katherine, "but how is it you haveescaped so early?"

"I have been to the City to buy goods, and came round here to have apeep at you, for Miss Payne told me yesterday of your trouble about theboys. "

"How early you are! why, it is scarcely eleven. Yes, (sit down for amoment, ) yes, I was dreadfully angry and upset;" and Katherine proceededto describe Cecil's letter, and her visit to the school. 

"I wish you could take them away, " said Rachel, thoughtfully. 

"Perhaps, later on, I may be able, but I do not think there is anychance that poor Charlie will be punished again. He is never reallynaughty, but he has had a great shock. "

"So have you, I imagine, to judge from your looks. "

"Do I look shocked? And how have you been? It is so long since I wasable to go and see you. "

"I have been, and am very well--very busy, and really succeeding. I haveopened a banking account, and feel very proud of my cheque-book. Do youknow that Mr. Newton has advanced me two hundred pounds? Just now it isworth a thousand, it lifts me over the waiting time. I have sent in myquarter's accounts, and in a month the payments will begin to come in. I'll make a good business yet. "

"I believe you will. "

"What a pretty room!" said Rachel, looking round. "How nice it is toknow you are comfortable; by the time you are tired of yoursecretaryship, I hope to have a nice little sum laid by for you. "

"What a wonderful woman of business you are, Rachel, " said Katherine, admiringly. 

"I ought to be! It is the only thing left to me, and I am thankful tosay I get more and more---" she stopped, for the door opened and Lord deBurgh was announced. 

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

REPULSION. 

Rachel started from her seat and stood facing the door. Her cheekflushed crimson, then grew deadly white, her lips parted as if shebreathed with difficulty. 

De Burgh, the moment his eyes fell on her, stopped as if suddenlyarrested by an invisible hand; his eyes expressed horror and surprise, his dark face grew darker. Rachel quickly recovered. "I will callagain, " she murmured, and passing him swiftly, noiselessly, left theroom, closing the door behind her. 

Like a flash of lightning, the meaning of this scene darted throughKatherine's brain. Clasping her hands with interlaced fingers, shepressed them against her breast. 

"Ah!" she exclaimed (there was infinite pain in that "ah!") "then _you_are the man?"

"What do you mean?" asked De Burgh, in a sullen tone, his thick browsalmost meeting in a frown. 

"The man she loved and lived with, " returned Katherine, the words werelow and clear. 

"I am!" he replied, defiantly. Then a dreadful silence fell upon them. 

Katherine dropped into a chair, and, resting her elbows on the table, covered her face with her hands. 

"My God!" exclaimed De Burgh, advancing a step nearer. "How does shecome here?"

Katherine could not speak for a moment; at last, and still covering hereyes and with a low quick utterance as if overwhelmed, she said, "I have known her for some time. I found her dying of despair! I wasable to befriend her, to win her back to life, to something like hope. She told me everything, except the name. We have ceased to speak of thepast! I little knew, I could not have dreamed--I never suspected;" hervoice broke, and she burst into tears, irresistible tears which shestruggled vainly to repress. 

"Why should you _not_ suspect me!" exclaimed De Burgh, harshly. "Did yousuppose me above or below other men?"

"Ah! poor Rachel! what a flood of unspeakable bitterness must haveoverwhelmed her, to find _you_ here!"

De Burgh paced to and fro, bewildered, furious, not knowing how todefend himself or what to say. 

"I am the most unfortunate devil that ever breathed!" he exclaimed atlast, pausing beside the table and resting one hand on it. "Look here, Katherine, how can a girl like you--for, in spite of your mature airs, you are a mere girl--how can you judge the--the temptations and ways ofa world of which you know nothing?"

"Temptations!" she murmured; "did Rachel ask _you_ to take her to livewith you?"

"No, of course not, " angrily, "she is rather a superior creature, Iadmit; but I deny that I ever deceived or deserted her! She wasperfectly aware I never Intended to marry her, and I was awfully put outwhen she disappeared. I did my best to find her. But the fact is, whenshe did _not_ reappear, I not unnaturally supposed she had gone off withsome other man. "

Katherine looked upon him suddenly with such tragic, horrified eyes thatDe Burgh was startled; then she slightly raised her hands with anexpressive gesture, again covering her face. 

"Yes, yes, " De Burgh went on, impatiently, "I see you think me a brutefor suspecting her capable of such a thing, but how was I to know shewas different from others? It is too infernally provoking that such anaffair should came to your notice! You are quite unable to judgefairly;" and he resumed his agitated walk. "I swear I am no worse thanmy neighbors. Ask any woman of the world, ask Mrs. Needham--they willtell you I am not an unpardonable sinner! I will do anything on earthfor Rachel that you think right. Just remember her position and mine, itwas not as if--It is impossible to explain to you, but there was noreason, had she been a little sensible, why such an episode should havespoiled her life! Lots of women--" he stopped, and with a muttered cursepaused opposite her. 

"And _could_ you have been her companion so long, without perceiving thestrength and pride and tenderness of the woman who gave up all hoping tokeep the love you no doubt ardently expressed? Ah! if you could haveseen her as she was when I found her!"

"How was I to know she was staking her gold against my counters?"returned De Burgh, obstinately, though a dark flush passed over his faceat Katherine's words. 

"Lord de Burgh! I did not think you could be so cruel, " cried Katherine, rising. "I will not speak to you any longer. "

"Cruel!" he exclaimed, placing himself between her and the door. "Howcan I be just or generous, when this most unfortunate encounter has putme in such a hopeless position? Katherine, will you let this miserablemistake of the past rob me of my best hopes, my most ardently cherisheddesires----"

"It is but two or three years since you spoke in the same tone, possiblythe same words, to Rachel! At least, knowing her as I do, I feel sureshe would have yielded to no common amount of persuasion. She was mad, weak to a degree to listen to you; but she was alone, and love is sosweet. "

"It is, " cried De Burgh, passionately. "Why will you turn from love astrue, as intense as ever was offered to woman, merely because I letmyself fall into an error but too common--"

"Is it not a mere accident of our respective positions that you happento seek me as your _wife_?" said Katherine, a slight curl on her lip;"and how can I feel sure that in time you will not weary of me as youdid of her?"

"The cases are utterly unlike. So long as the world lasts, men and womentoo will act as Rachel Trant and I did; Nature is too strong for sociallaws and religious maxims. "

"And you said you had never done anything to be ashamed of?" sheexclaimed, bitterly. 

"Nor have I!" said De Burgh, stoutly, "if I were tried by the standardof our world. How can you know--how can you judge?"

"I do not judge, I have no right to judge, " said Katherine, brokenly. "Ionly know that, when I saw your eyes meet Rachel's I felt a great gulfhad suddenly opened between us, a gulf that cannot be bridged. I do notunderstand and cannot judge, as you say, and I am sorry for you too; butif life is to be this miserable shuffling of chances, this jumble ofinjustice, I would rather die than live. No, Lord de Burgh, I _will_go. "

"Good Heavens! Katherine, you are trembling; you can hardly stand. I ama brute to keep you; but I cannot help clutching my only chance ofhappiness. You are an angel! Dispose of me as you will; but in mercygive me some hope. I'll wait; I'll do anything. "

"Oh, no, no. It is impossible. I am so fond of _her_; and you will findmany to whom your past will be nothing; for me it is irrevocable. Theworld seems intolerable; let me go;" and she burst into such bitter sobsthat her whole frame shook. 

"I must not keep you now; but I shall _not_ give you up. I will write. Oh, Katherine, you would not destroy me!" He seized and passionatelykissed her hand, which she tore from him, and fled from the room. 

When Rachel Trant escaped from the presence of her dearest friend andher ex-lover, she could scarcely see or stand. Thankful not to meetanyone, she hastily left the house, and, somewhat revived by the air, she made her way to a secluded part of the Kensington Gardens. Here shefound a seat, and, still palpitating with the shock she had sustained, strove to reduce the chaotic whirl of her thoughts to something likeorder. 

She divined by instinct why De Burgh was at Mrs. Needham's. She knew, how she could not tell, that he was seeking Katherine as eagerly as hehad sought herself; but with what a different object! The sight of DeBurgh was as the thrust of a poisoned dagger through the delicate veinsand articulations of her moral system. To see the dark face and sombreeyes she had loved so passionately--had!--still loved!--was almostphysical agony. It was as if some beloved form had been brought backfrom another world, but animated by a spirit that knew her not, regardedher not at all. Oh, the bitterness of such an estrangement, of thisexpulsion from the paradise of warmth and tenderness where she had beencherished for a while--a heavenly place which should know her no more. 

"I brought it all upon myself, " was the sentence of her strong sternsense. "Losing self-respect, what hold can any woman have upon alover?--yet how many men are faithful even to death without the legaltie! I do not love him now, but how fondly, how intensely I loved theman I thought he was! Oh, fool, fool, fool, to believe that I could evertighten my hold upon a man who had gained all he wished unconditionally!I have deserved all--all. "

Yet she had no hatred against the real De Burgh, neither had she anyangelic desire to forgive him, or to do him good or convert him; what hewas now, he would ever be. He might even make a fairly good husband. Theepisode of his connection with herself would in no way interfere with_his_ moral harmony. But he was not worthy of Katherine; no unbreakabletie would make him more constant; and, though his faithlessness couldnot touch her social position, he might crush her heart all the same. Rachel was far too human, too passionate, not to shrink with unutterablepain from the idea of this man's entrancing love being lavished onanother, yet her true, devoted affection for her benefactress remaineduntouched. Katherine stood before everything. Rachel did not wish toinjure De Burgh--her heart had simply grown strong, and she would nothesitate for a moment to save Katherine from trouble at any cost to him. 

What then should she do?--continue to withhold the name of the man ofwhom she had so often spoken, or let Katherine know the whole truth andjudge for herself? If she decided on the latter, it would break up herfriendship with Katherine, and De Burgh would attribute her action torevenge. Should that deter her? No; so long as she was sure of herself, what were opinions to her? The one thing in life to which she clung nowwas Katherine's affection and esteem; for her she would sacrifice much, but she would not flatter her into a fool's paradise of trust and weddedlove with De Burgh by concealing anything, neither would she counsel heragainst the desperate experiment, should she be inclined to risk it. Hemight be a very different man to a wife. 

A certain amount of composure came to her with decision, though a seconddeath seemed to have laid its icy hand upon her heart; she rose and madeher way towards her own abode, determining to await a visit or somecommunication from Katherine before she touched the poisoned tract whichlay between them. 

Rachel had scarcely reached the Broad Walk when she was accosted by alittle girl, who ran towards her, calling loudly, "Miss Trant, Miss Trant, don't you know me?"

She was a slight, willowy creature with black eyes, profuse dark hair, and sallow complexion. Her dress was costly, though simple, and she wasfollowed at a more sober pace by a lady-like but foreign-looking girl, apparently her governess. 

"Well, Miss Liddell, are you taking a morning walk?" asked Rachel, asthe child took her hand. 

"I am going to see papa. I am to have dinner with him. He has a badcold, and he sent for me. "

"Then you must cheer him up, and tell him what you have been learning. "

"I haven't learnt much yet; it is so tiresome. "

"Come, Mademoiselle Marie, you must not tease Miss Trant, " said theforeign-looking lady, whom Rachel recognized as one of the governesseswho sometimes escorted George Liddell's daughter "to be tried on. "

"She does not tease me, " returned Rachel, who had rather taken a fancyto the child. 

"Won't you come and see papa with me?" continued the little heiress. "Iwish you would, and he will tell you to make me another pretty frock--Ilove pretty frocks. "

"Not to-day; I must go home and make frocks for other people. "

"Then I will bring him to see you--I will, I will; he does whatever Ilike. Good-bye, " springing up to kiss her. "I may come and see yousoon?"

"Whenever you like, my dear, " said Rachel, feeling strangely comfortedby the child's warm kisses; and they parted, going in differentdirections, to meet again soon. 

Mrs. Needham had been sorely tried on that fatal day when De Burgh hadsuddenly departed, after a comparatively short interval, and Katherinehad disappeared into the depths of her own room. 

She had anticipated entertaining the bridegroom-elect at luncheon, andhad ordered lobster-cream and an _epigramme d'agneau a la Russe_ assuitable delicacies; she expected confidential consultation anddelightful plans; she had even speculated on so managing that the doubleevent:--Angela Bradley's marriage with Errington and Katherine's withLord de Burgh, --might come off on the same day, even in the same church:that would be a culmination of excitement! Now some mysterious blighthad fallen on all her schemes. What had happened? What could they havequarrelled about? Then when Katherine emerged from her refuge she washopelessly mysterious; there was no penetrating the reserve in which shewrapped herself. 

"There is no one in whom I should more readily confide than in you, dearMrs. Needham, but a serious difference _has arisen_ between Lord deBurgh and myself, respecting which I cannot speak to _anyone_. I regretbeing obliged to keep it to myself, but I must. "

"My dear, if you adopt that tone I have nothing more to say, but it ishorribly provoking and disappointing. I am quite sure people began toexpect it--that you would marry Lord de Burgh, I mean, and what aposition you have thrown away. You can't expect a man like him to be asaint. There is no use trying men by our standard; in short, it's notmuch matter what standard we have, we must always come down a step ortwo if we mean to make both ends meet; but you see, when a man has moneyand right principles, he can atone for a lot. "

Katherine gazed at her astonished. How was it that she had found thescent which led so near the real track?

"No money, " she said, gravely, "could in any way affect the matters indispute between Lord de Burgh and myself, so I will not speak any moreon the subject. It has all been very painful, and the worst part is thatI cannot tell you. "

"Well, it must be bad, " observed Mrs. Needham, in a complaining tone, "but I suppose I must just hold my tongue. "

So Katherine was left in comparative peace. But it was a hard passage toher; she could not shake off the sickening sense of wrong and sorrow, the painful consciousness of being humiliated which the revelationinflicted on her, the feeling that she was, in some inexplicable way, touched by the evil-doing of those who were so near her. 

A slight cold, caught she knew not how, aggravated the fever induced bydistress of mind, and next day Mrs. Needham thought her so unwell thatshe insisted on sending for the doctor, who condemned Katherine to herbed, a composing draught, and solitude. 

The doctor, however, could not forbid letters, and Katherine's seclusionwas much disturbed by a long, rambling, impassioned epistle from DeBurgh, in which, though he promised not to intrude upon her at present, he refused to give up all hope, as he could not believe that she wouldalways maintain her present exaggerated and unreasonable frame ofmind--a letter that did him no good in Katherine's estimation. Then shetried to resume her work. But Mrs. Needham, returning from one of her"rapid acts" of inspection and negotiation in and out divers and sundrywarehouses, dismissed her peremptorily to lie down on the sofa in thedrawing-room, in reality to get her out of the way, as she was expectinga visit from Miss Payne, with whom she wanted a little privateconversation. 

"Can you throw any light on this mysterious quarrel between Katherineand Lord de Burgh?" she asked, abruptly, as soon as Miss Payne wasseated in the study. 

"Quarrel? have they quarrelled? I know nothing about it. When did theyquarrel?"

"About three days ago. He came here to propose for her, I know he did, they were talking together for--oh!--barely a quarter-of-an-hour in thedrawing-room, when I heard her fly up stairs, and he rushed away, slamming the door as if he would take the front of the house out. Katherine has never been herself since. It is my firm belief she isstrongly attached to him, --what do you think?"

"I don't know what to think; they were very good friends, but I do notthink Katherine was in love with him. She is a curious girl. I often amtempted to fancy she has something on her mind. "

"Nonsense, my dear Miss Payne. I never met a finer, truer nature thanKatherine Liddell's, " cried Mrs. Needham, an affectionate smile lightingup her handsome, kindly face. "The worst of it is, I do not know whom toblame, and Katherine has put me on honor not to ask her. "

"I cannot help you, " said Miss Payne; and she fell into a thoughtfulsilence, while Mrs. Needham watched her eagerly. 

"I am going away for a few weeks, " resumed Miss Payne. "I have let myhouse, and I shall go to Sandbourne; the weather seems settled, and itwill be pleasant there. If you can spare her, I will ask Katherine tocome with me, she liked the place, and perhaps in the intimacy ofevery-day life she may tell me what happened; but, remember, _I'll_ nottell you unless she gives me leave. "

"No, no, of course not; but I am sure she would trust _me_ as soon asanyone. '

"Very likely. It will just depend upon who is near her when she is in aconfidential mood. "

"Perhaps. I am sure it would do her good; and Sandbourne is not far. IfDe Burgh wants to make it up, he can easily run down there. "

"Yes, he knows his way. I am not sure that he is the right man, though, "said Miss Payne, reflectively; "he is too ready to ride rough-shod overeveryone and everything. "

"Do you think so? I must say I thought him a delightful person, sonatural and good-natured. "

"Well, let me go and see Katherine. I am anxious to take her away withme. "

Katherine was most willing to accept Miss Payne's proposition. She wassoothed and gratified by the thoughtful kindness shown her by both herfriends, and anxious to refresh her mind and recruit her strength beforetaking up her life again. 

"You are so good to think of taking me with you, " she cried, when MissPayne ceased speaking. "I should like greatly to go, if Mrs. Needham canspare me. "

"Of course I can. You will come back a better secretary than ever, "exclaimed that lady, cheerfully. "I will try to run down and see yousome Saturday. It is rather a new place, this Sandbourne, isn't it?"

"Yes; it is not crowded yet. "

"When do you go down there?"

"On Saturday afternoon, " returned Miss Payne. "I have taken rooms atMarine Cottage; you know, it is at the end of the parade, near an oldhouse. "

"Yes, quite well; it is a nice little place. "

"I will write to secure another bedroom; and let us meet at the stationon Saturday. I go by the 2. 50 train. " A few more preliminaries and theaffair was settled. 

Previous to leaving town, however, Katherine felt she must see RachelTrant, though she half dreaded meeting her. It must have been an awfulblow to meet De Burgh as she did. Would she divine what brought himthere? Katherine felt she had been cold and remiss in having keptsilence towards her friend so long, and, when Miss Payne left, shewalked with her across the park to Rachel's abode, in spite of Mrs. Needham's assurances that it would be too much for her, and retard therecovery of her nervous forces, etc. , etc. 

Katherine was not kept long waiting in the neat little back parlor, which was Miss Trant's private room. Rachel came to her looking verywhite, while she breathed quickly. She paused just within the door, in ahesitating, uncertain way, which seemed to Katherine very pathetic. 

"Oh! Rachel, " she cried, her soft brown eyes suffused with tears as shetenderly kissed her brow, "I know everything, and--I will never see himagain. "

"He is not all bad, " said Rachel, in a low tone, as she claspedKatherine's hand in both her own. 

"No, I am sure he is not; but he has passed out of our lives; let usspeak of him no more. "

"I should be glad not to do so; but he has written me a letter I shouldlike you to see. He seems grieved for the past and makes munificentoffers. "

"I should rather not see it, Rachel. I want to forget. Did you reply?"

"I did, very gravely, very shortly. I told him I wanted nothing, thatthe best friend I ever had had put me in the way perhaps to make myfortune, and--and, dearest Miss Liddell, if you care for----"

"But I do not, I did not, " interrupted Katherine. "Oh! thank God I donot. How could I have borne what has come to my knowledge if I did? Now, let the past bury its dead. "

"Is it not amazing that we should be so strangely linked together?"murmured Rachel. 

Katherine made no reply. After a short silence, as if they stood by astill open grave, Katherine began to speak of her intended visit to MissPayne, and before they parted, though both were hushed and grave, theyhad glided into their usual confidential, affectionate tone. Business, however, was not mentioned. 

"I wish you could see your cousin's little daughter, " said Rachel, rather abruptly, as Katherine rose to bid her good-bye. "She's aninteresting, naughty little creature, small of her age, but in some waysprecocious. I am fond of her, partly, I suppose, because she likes me. There is something familiar to me in her face, yet I cannot say that sheactually resembles anyone. "

"I should like to see her, " returned Katherine; and soon after she lefther friend, relieved and calmed by the feeling that the explanation wasover. 

"Well, my dear, " cried Mrs. Needham, when they met at dinner. "I have agreat piece of news for you: Mr. Errington is to be the new editor of_The Cycle_. A capital thing for him! and that accounts for theannouncement of the marriage being held back, just to let people getaccustomed to the first start. It shows what Bradley thinks of him. Itis really a grand triumph to get such an appointment after so short anapprenticeship. "

"I am glad of it, very glad, " returned Katherine, thoughtfully. "Isuppose he is considered very clever. "

"A first-rate man, quite first-rate, for all serious tough subjects. Ithink, dear, if I could run down on Saturday week till Monday it wouldbe an immense refreshment;" and Mrs. Needham wandered off into thediscussion of a variety of schemes. 

On the Saturday following, Katherine and her faithful chaperon set outfor their holiday with mutual satisfaction and a hope that they lefttheir troubles behind them. 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

RECONCILIATION. 

The change to Sandbourne did Katherine good; she grew calmer, moreresigned, though still profoundly sad. The sense of having been broughtin touch with one of the most cruel problems of society affected herdeeply, and the contrast between the present and past of a year ago, when she had the boys with her, forced her to review her mentalconditions since the great change in her fortunes wrought by her ownact. 

She had ample time for thought. Miss Payne was suffering from touches ofrheumatism, which made long walks impossible; so Katherine wanderedabout alone. 

The weather was bright, but, although it was the beginning of May, notwarm enough to sit amongst the rocks at the point. Katherine, however, often walked to and fro recalling De Burgh's looks and tones the day hehad opened his heart to her there. He was not a bad fellow--no, far fromit; indeed, she knew that, if her heart had not been filled withErrington, she could have loved De Burgh. How was it that a man offeeling, of so-called honor, with a certain degree of discriminationbetween right and wrong, could have broken the moral law and been socallous as he had shown himself?

There was no use in thinking about it; it was beyond her comprehension. All she hoped was that time might efface the cruel lines which sorrowand remorse had cut deep into Rachel's heart. 

With Miss Payne, Katherine was cheerful and companionable. They spokemuch of Bertie. His decision to take orders would have given his sisterunqualified satisfaction had he also sought preferment in England. 

"A clergyman's position is excellent, " she said, confidentially, as theysat together in the drawing-room window one blustery afternoon, whenKatherine was not tempted to go out. "Bertie is just the stuff to make apopular preacher of, and so long as he is properly ordained I don't carehow he preaches, but I don't like him to be classed with ranting, roaring vagabonds! Then, you see, there are no men who have suchopportunities as clergymen of picking up well-dowered wives. I believewomen are ready to propose themselves rather than not catch what some ofthem are pleased to term "a priest. " It's a weakness I never couldunderstand. What induces him to run off among the heathen?--can't hefind heathen enough at home? If he gets into these outlandish places, Ishall never see him again, and, between you and me, he is the onlycreature I care for. He thinks he is inspired by the love of God, but Iknow he is driven by the love of _you_. "

"Of me, Miss Payne?" exclaimed Katherine, startled and greatly pained. 

"Yes, you; and I wish you could see your way to marry him. It would beno great match for either of you, but he would be another and a happierman; and, as for you, your rejection of Lord de Burgh (I suppose you_did_ refuse him) shows you do not care for riches. "

"But, Miss Payne, I have no right to think your brother ever wished tomarry me. "

"Then you must be very dull. I wonder he has not written before. Oh, here is the postman!"

Katherine stepped through the window and took the letters from him. 

"Only one for you and two for me, " she said, returning. "One, I see, isfrom Ada. " Opening it, she read as follows:

"DEAREST KATHERINE, "I write in great anxiety and surprise, as I see among the fashionableintelligence of the _Morning Post_ that Lord de Burgh is on the point ofleaving England for a tour in the Ural Mountains (of all places!) andwill probably be absent for several months. Can this be true? and, ifso, what is the reason of it? Is it possible that you have been socruel, so insane, so wicked as to fly in the face of providence andrefuse him? You should remember your own poverty-stricken existence, and think of the boys. Marriage with a man of De Burgh's rank andfortune would be the making of them. I have hidden away the paper, for, if the colonel saw it, it would drive him frantic. Do write and let memediate between you and De Burgh, if you are so mad as to havequarrelled with him. I am feeling quite ill with all this excitement andworry. I don't think many women have been so sorely tried as myself. Ever yours, "ADA ORMONDE. "

Having glanced through this composition, she handed it with a smile toMiss Payne, and opened the other letter, which was from Rachel. This wasvery short and very mysterious. 

"I have been introduced to your relative, Mr. George Liddell, " shewrote, "by his daughter. We have had a conversation respecting you andother matters. I cannot go into this now--I only write to say that Mr. Liddell is going down to see you to-morrow or next day, and I earnestlytrust you may be reconciled. I am always your devoted RACHEL. "

"This is very extraordinary, " cried Katherine, when she had read italoud. "What can she mean by sending him down here! I rather dreadseeing him. "

"Nonsense, " returned Miss Payne, sternly. "If that dressmaking friend ofyours brings about a reconciliation between you and your verywrong-headed cousin, she will do a good deed. I anticipate someimportant results from this interview--you must see Mr. Liddell alone. "

"I suppose so. I am sure I hope he will not snap my head off. "

"You are not the sort of girl to allow people to snap your head off. ButI am immensely puzzled to imagine what Miss Trant can have said or doneto send this bush-ranger down here. How did Mr. Liddell come to knowher?"

"I can only suppose that his little girl, to whom I believe he isdevoted, brought him to Rachel's to get a dress tried on or to chooseone. "

"It is very odd, " observed Miss Payne, thoughtfully. "My letter, " shewent on, after a moment's pause, "is from my new tenant; he wants someadditional furniture, which is just nonsense. He has as much as is goodfor him; I'll write and say I shall be in town on Monday, and call atWilton Street to discuss matters. "

"_Are_ you going to town on Monday?"

"Yes, I made up my mind when I read this, " tapping the letter. 

"I suppose you don't object to be left alone? And there is the chance ofMrs. Needham coming down; probably she will stay over Monday. "

"I fear that is not very likely. "

No more was said on the subject then, but Katherine could not get hermind free from the idea of George Liddell's anticipated visit. She wasquite willing to make friends with him, though his ungenerous andunreasonable conduct towards herself had impressed her mostunfavorably. 

The day passed over, however, without any visitor, nor was it until thefollowing afternoon that Katherine was startled, in spite of herpreparation, by the announcement that a gentleman wished to see MissLiddell. 

"I'll go, " exclaimed Miss Payne, gathering up her knitting and a book, and she vanished swiftly in spite of rheumatic difficulties. 

In another moment George Liddell stood before his dispossessedkinswoman, a tall, gaunt figure with grizzled hair and sunken eyes. Hetook the hand she offered in silence, and then exclaimed, abruptly, "You knew I was coming?"

"Yes, Rachel Trant told me. Will you not sit down?"

He drew a chair beside her work-table, and looking at her for a minuteexclaimed, in harsh tones which yet showed emotion, "You are a good woman!"

"How have you found that out?" asked Katherine, smiling. 

"I will answer by a long, cruel story!" he returned with a sigh; "astory I would tell to none but you. " Again he paused, looking down as ifcollecting his thoughts, while the brown, bony, sinewy hand he laid onthe table was tightly clenched. "You knew my father, " he began, suddenlyraising his dark suspicious eyes to her, "and therefore can understandwhat an exacting tyrant he could be to those who were in his power. As amere child I feared him and shrank from him; my earliest recollectionwas of my mother's care in keeping me from him. He was not violent toher--I don't suppose he ever struck her, but he treated her with coldcontempt, why, I never understood, except that she cost him money, andbrought him none. I won't unman myself by describing what her life was, or how passionately I loved her; we clung to each other as desolate, persecuted creatures only do! He grudged us the food we ate, theclothes--rather the rags--we wore. One day playing in Regent's Park Ifell into the canal, and was nearly drowned. A gentleman went in afterme and saved me. He took me home, he gave me to my mother, he often metus after. He gave me treats and money, --I can't dwell on this time. Hewon my mother's love, chiefly through me. He was going away to the newworld. He persuaded her to leave her wretched home, to take me, --weescaped. I shall never forget the joy of those few days! Then my father(as we might have known he would) put out his torturing hand and seized_me_. My mother had hoped that his miserly nature would have disposedhim to let me go, if he could thereby escape the cost of my maintenance. But revenge was too sweet to be foregone. I was dragged away. He did notwant _her_ back. He hoped her lover would desert her after awhile, andso accomplish her punishment; but he was true! No, I can never forget mymother's agony when I was torn from her!" he rose and walked to thewindow, and returned. "The hideous picture had grown faint, " he said, "but as I speak it grows clear and black! You can imagine my life afterthis! It was well calculated to turn a moody, passionate boy into adevil! I was nearly eleven when I lost my mother, and I never heard ofher or from her after; yet I never doubted that she loved me and triedto communicate with me, but my father's infernal spite kept us apart. Atsixteen I ran away. Your father was friendly to me and tried topersuade me against what he called rashness; but I always fancied hemight have helped my mother, backed her up more, and I did not heed him. I went through a rough training, as you may suppose, and never saw myfather's face again. "

"I can imagine that he could be terrible, " murmured Katherine. "I wasdreadfully afraid of him, but I did not know he had been so cruel. "

George Liddell did not seem to hear her, he was lost in thought. 

"You wonder, I daresay, why I tell you this long story, " he resumed;"you will see what it leads up to presently. "

"I am greatly interested, " returned Katherine. 

"You will be more so! From what I told Newton, you know enough of mycareer in Australia, but you do _not_ know that I married a sweet, delicate woman, who, after the birth of our little Marie, fell into badhealth. If I could have taken her away for a long voyage, it might havesaved her, but I was in full swing making my pile, and could not tearmyself away; that must have been about the time my father died. Had Iknown I was his heir, I should have sent my wife home. But fool that Iwas! I was too wrapped up making money (for the tide had just turned, and I was floating to fortune) to see that she was slipping from me. Inever dreamed my father would die intestate. I always thought he wouldtake care of his precious gold. It was well for me he destroyed hiswill. "

Katherine felt her cheeks glow; but she did not speak. 

"Well, I felt furious to think you had been enjoying my money when I didnot even know that my father was dead; but I have changed. "

"Why?" asked Katherine, who could not imagine what was his motive fortelling her his history. 

"You shall hear. You know I placed my little Marie at school. Theschool-mistress employed a dressmaker to whom the child took a fancy;she insisted on taking me to see her, and to choose some fal-lals. " Hestopped again, his mouth twitched, his fingers played with hiswatch-chain. "When the young woman came into the room, " he resumed, "Ithought I should have dropped. She was the living image of my poormother, only younger. I could not speak for a minute. At last, when thechild had kissed her and chatted a bit, I managed to ask if I might comeback and speak to her alone, as she was so like a lady I once knew, thatI wanted to put a few questions to her. She seemed a little disturbed;but told me I might come in the evening. I went. I asked her about herparentage; she knew very little, save that she had been born in SouthAmerica. She offered, however, to show me her mother's picture, and, when she brought it, I not only saw it was _my_ mother's likeness, but apicture I knew well. Her initials were on the case, R. L. Then I toldher everything. I proved to her that I was her half-brother. Howbitterly she cried when I described a little brooch with my hair in it, which Rachel still keeps. She has seen our mother kiss it and weep overit. My heart went out to her; she is second now only to my child. Then, Katherine, she told me her own sad story, and the part you played in it. How you saved her, and gave her hope and strength. Give me your hand!I'll never forget this service. It binds me more, a hundredfold more, than if you had done it for myself. But neither entreaties norreproaches could induce her to tell me the name of the villain who--hasshe told you?" he interrupted himself to ask sternly. 

"She never named his name to me, " cried Katherine. "It is cruel to askher. And of what possible advantage would the knowledge be? Any inquiry, any disturbance, would only punish her. "

Liddell started up, and walked to and fro hastily. "That's true, " heexclaimed; "but I wish I had my hand on his throat. "

"That is natural; but you must think of Rachel, she has suffered somuch. "

"She has!" said George Liddell, throwing himself into his chair again. "But you don't know the sort of pain and sweetness it is to talk of mypoor mother to her daughter! It makes a different and a better man ofme. Rachel is a strong woman, " he added, after a moment's thought; "shewishes our relationship to be kept secret. It is no credit to anyone, she says, and might be injurious to little Marie; we can be friends, andshe need never want a few hundreds to help on her business. It seemsthat to please his people her father, on returning to England, only usedhis second name, which I never knew. It is a sorrowful tale for you tolisten to--you are white and trembling, my girl, " he added, with suddenfamiliarity, --"but I haven't done yet; you have laid me underobligations I can never repay. I could not offer a woman like you money;but I will pay you in kind. You have saved my dear sister, I willprovide for the nephews that are dear to you. I have already seen Newtonand my own solicitor, and laid my propositions before them. I don'tpretend to munificence for them, besides, I shall not forget either youor them in my will, but they shall have means for a right good educationand a good start in life. Now I want you to forgive my brutality when wefirst met, and, more, I want you to be my daughter's friend. " He graspedher hand. 

Katherine's eyes had already brimmed over. 

"Forgive you!" she repeated. "I am quite ready to forgive. I was vexed, of course, that you should be unreasonably prejudiced against me; but Iam deeply grateful for your generosity to the boys. If you knew the joy, the relief you have given me, it would, I am sure, gladden you. But letus try to make Rachel happy too. I wish----"

"She is happiest in her own way. Work is the only cure for ills likehers, " interrupted Liddell. "Time will do wonders, and her wish to keepour relationship secret is wise. " There was a pause; then Liddell, looking steadily at Katherine, exclaimed, "You are a real true, good-hearted woman; the world would be a better place if there were afew more like you in it. " He then passed on to his plans for the future;his projects for his daughter's education, opening his mind with adegree of confidence which amazed Katherine, considering that two daysbefore he was an enemy. 

Presently he ceased to speak, and, after a moment's thought, stood up. 

"Now I have said my say, and I must go, " he exclaimed. "I only came toexplain myself to you, for the less of such a story committed to paperthe better. I am due in town to-morrow morning; write to Rachel, andcome and see her as soon as you can. I wish, " he added, with a searchingglance, "that I had a woman like you to regulate matters and take careof my little Marie; then I could keep her with me. "

"She is far better at school, " returned Katherine, a little startled bythis suggestive speech. "But will you not have some luncheon before yougo?"

"No, thank you. I had some before coming on here. I need very littlefood, and scarcely anything gives me pleasure; but I like you, mycousin, and I want your friendship for the child. "

"She shall have it, I promise. "

After a few more words, George Liddell bid her good-bye. She stood a fewminutes in deep thought before going to tell her good news to MissPayne, reflecting that she must not betray the real motive of his changetowards herself; the less she said the better. While she thought, MissPayne came in looking unusually eager. 

"Wouldn't he stay and have a bit to eat?" she exclaimed. "I saw himgoing out of the gate from my room. "

"No, he is in a hurry to get back to town. Ah! my dear Miss Payne, hecame down to make his peace with me, and he is going to provide for theboys. "

"Why, what has happened to him? I can hardly believe my ears. "

"I am sure I could hardly believe mine. I suppose as he grew accustomedto feel that everything was in his hands, and that I had given him notrouble, he saw that he had been unnecessarily severe. Then his littlegirl took him to Rachel Trant's, and they evidently spoke of me;probably she gave a highly colored description of my goodness, and, being an impulsive man, he said he would come and see me, whereupon shewrote to warn me. "

"That's all possible; but somehow I feel there is more in it than Iquite understand. "

"I am sure I do not care to understand the wherefore, if only my cousincarries out his good intentions as regards Cis and Charlie. "

"Just so; that is the main point. If he does, what a burden will belifted off your shoulders!"

"And what a change in the boys' fortunes!" returned Katherine; adding, after a short pause, "I think I will go to town with you on Monday andpay them a visit, while you arrange your affairs with your tenant. Mrs. Needham will put me up for a night or two. "

In truth, Katherine longed to see and talk with Rachel, to discuss thecurious turn in her changeful fortunes, and build up pleasant palaces inthe airy realms of the future. 

The following day brought her a letter from De Burgh. It was dated fromParis, and told her of his intention to be absent from England for sometime; he pleaded earnestly for pardon with a certain rough eloquence, and repeated the arguments he had previously urged, evidently thinkingthat his punishment was greatly disproportionate to his offence. 

Katherine was much moved by this epistle; she could not help being sorryfor him, though she hoped not to meet him again. The association ofideas was too painful; she was ashamed too to remember how near she hadcome to marrying him, in a sort of despair of the future. She answeredthis letter at once, frankly and kindly, setting forth the unalterablenature of her decision, and begging him not to put her to unnecessarypain by trying to renew their acquaintance at any future time. 

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

THE END. 

The project of going to town, however, was not carried out. Miss Paynecaught a severe cold, owing to the unusual circumstance of havingforgotten her umbrella, and, in consequence, getting wet through by asudden heavy shower. 

Instead, therefore, of speeding London-wards on Monday, Miss Payne spentthe weary hours in bed with a racking headache and Katherine in closeattendance. 

Next day, however, she was considerably better, and even talked ofcoming downstairs in the evening when the house was shut up. Sheinsisted on sending her kind nurse out for air and exercise, as she waslooking pallid and heavy-eyed; nor was Katherine reluctant to go, forshe enjoyed being alone to meditate on the curious interweaving offate's warp and woof which had made Rachel the means of reconciliationbetween George Liddell and herself. She ought now to take up her lifeagain with courage and energy. The boys provided for, she had nothing tofear, while, if the future held out no brilliant prospect of personalhappiness, much quiet content probably lay in the humble sufficiencywhich was now hers. The interest she would take in the careers of Cisand Charlie would renew her youth, and keep her in touch with activelife, while, as the impression of her various troubles wore away underthe swift-flowing stream of time, she would feel more and more therestful excellence of peace. It was not a bad outlook, yet Katherinefelt sad as she contemplated it. Finding her self-commune less cheeringthan she anticipated, she turned her steps homeward, and entered thehouse through the window of the drawing-room which opened on a rusticveranda. Coming from strong sunlight into comparative darkness, she tookoff her hat, and pushed back her hair from her brow before she perceivedthat a gentleman had risen from the chair where he sat reading. 

"You see I have dared to take possession of the premises in yourabsence, " he said. 

"Mr. Errington?" cried Katherine, her heart suddenly bounding, and thenbeating so violently she could hardly speak. "How--where--did you comefrom?"

"From London, to enjoy a brief breathing-space from pressure ofwork--welcome as it generally is! I am sorry to find that your friendMiss Payne is invalided, as she was not visible, I ventured to wait foryou. "

"I am very glad to see you, " returned Katherine, placing herself on thesofa as far from the window as she could, for she felt herself changingcolor in a provoking way. 

"I saw Mrs. Needham yesterday, who gave me your address and sundrymessages, one to the effect that she hopes to pay you a visit nextSaturday; the rest I do not remember accurately, for she was muchexcited and not very distinct. "

"We shall be delighted to see her, she is so bright and sympathetic. What was the immediate cause of her excitement?"

"The marriage of Miss Bradley in about a fortnight. "

"Indeed!" cried Katherine, thinking this way of announcing it ratherodd, but never doubting it was his own marriage also. "Then accept mywarm congratulations; you have no well-wisher more sincere than myself. "

Errington looked up surprised. 

"Why do you congratulate me? I certainly was of some use in bringing itabout, but sooner or later they would certainly have married. "

"They? who--whom is she going to marry?"

"My old friend Major Urquhart. It is a very old attachment, but Mr. Bradley objected to his want of fortune; then, as Bradley's wealthincreased, Urquhart felt reluctant to come forward again. Accidentrevealed the state of the case to me. I went to see Urquhart, who hadjust returned from India, and was in Edinburgh. I persuaded him toreturn with me, and once the lovers met, matters swiftly arrangedthemselves. Finally, Bradley gave his consent. Now the air is resonantwith the coming chime of wedding bells. "

"I am greatly surprised, " said Katherine, and it was some minutes beforeshe could speak again. Her horizon seemed suddenly suffused with light;she felt dizzy with a strange delightful glow, and confused with a senseof shame at her own unreasoning, irrational joy. What difference couldErrington's marriage or no marriage make to her?

"I suppose, " resumed Errington, after looking earnestly at her speakingface, "that the intimacy which arose between Mr. Bradley and myself inconsequence of my connection with _The Cycle_ suggested the rumor of myengagement with his daughter; but no such idea ever entered my head orAngela's. You know, I suppose, I am now _de facto_ editor of _TheCycle_. It is a good appointment, and enables me to hope forpossibilities, though I dare not say probabilities. "

"I am sure you will be an admirable editor, " said Katherine, pullingherself together, and trying to speak lightly. 

"Why?" asked Errington, smiling. 

"You are just, and--and careful, and must be a good judge of thesubjects such a periodical treats of. "

"Thank you. " He paused; then, looking down, he continued, "Mrs. Needhamtells me you have been troubled about your nephews. "

"Yes, I was very much troubled, but I think they are safe and well now;later I should put them to a better school, as I now hope to do. " Shestopped to think how she should best explain George Liddell's unexpectedgenerosity, and Errington exclaimed. 

"These boys are a heavy charge to you! yet I suppose you could not bringyourself to give them up?"

"How could I? their mother can really do nothing for them, and it wouldbe cruel to hand them over to Colonel Ormonde's charity. "

"It would! you are right, " said Errington, hastily. "Poor littlefellows! to lose you would be too terrible a trial for them. "

Katherine raised her eyes to his; they were moist with gratitude for hissympathy, and seemed to draw him magnetically to her. He changed hisplace to the sofa; leaning one arm on the back, he rested his head onhis hand, and looked gravely down upon her. 

"Will you forgive me if I ask an intrusive question? You know we agreedto be friends, yet our friendship does not seem to thrive, it is dyingof starvation because we so rarely meet; still, for the sake of ourshadowy friendship, answer me: may I put the natural construction on DeBurgh's sudden departure from England?"

Katherine hesitated; she did not like to say in so many words that shehad refused him, a curious, half-remorseful feeling made her especiallyconsiderate towards him. 

"I do not like to speak of Lord de Burgh, " she said at length. 

"When does he return?

"I do not know. I know nothing of his plans. "

"Then you sent him empty away?" said Errington, smiling. 

"I very nearly married him!" she exclaimed, frankly. "He was kind andgenerous, and would have been good to the boys; but at last I could not. Oh! I could _not_!"

"I am sorry for De Burgh, " said Errington, thoughtfully, "but you wereright; your wisdom is more of the heart than the head. Do you rememberthat day (how vividly I remember it!) when you came to me and told meyour strange story? It was the turning-point of my life. When Iconfessed I knew nothing of the deep, warm, tender affection thatactuated _you_, you said that for me wisdom was from one entrance quiteshut out. "

"I can remember nothing clearly of that dreadful day, only that you werevery forgiving and good, " returned Katherine, pressing her handstogether to still their trembling. 

"Well, from the moment you spoke those words, the light of the wisdomyou meant dawned upon me, and grew stronger and brighter, till my wholebeing was flooded with the love you inspired. You opened a new world tome; your voice was always in my ears, your eyes looking into mine. " Hespoke in a low, earnest, but composed tone, as if he had made up hismind to the fullest utterance. Katherine covered her face with her handswith the unconscious instinct to hide the emotion she felt it wouldexpress. "Many things kept me silent. Fear that the sight of me waspainful to you; the dread of seeming to seek your fortune; my ownuncertain position. Then, when all was taken from you, and I was by myown act deprived of the power to help you, you were so brave and patientthat profound esteem mingled with the strange, sweet, wild fire you hadkindled! Am I so painfully associated in your mind that you cannot giveme something of the wealth of love stored in your heart? You havetaught me what love is, will you not reward so apt a pupil?"

"Mr. Errington, " said Katherine, letting him take her cold tremblinghand, "is it possible you can love and trust a woman who has acted a liefor years as I have?"

"I cannot help both loving and trusting you, utterly, " he returned, holding her hand tenderly in both his own. "I believe in your truth as Ibelieve in the reality of the sun's light, and if you can love me Ibelieve I can make you happy. I have but a humble lot to offer you, yetI think it is--it will be a tranquil and secure one. I can help you inbringing up those boys, I will never quarrel with you for clinging tothem, and will do the best I can for them! You know _I_ have acreditor's claim; Roman law gave the debtor over into the hands of thecreditor, " continued Errington, growing bolder as he felt how her handtrembled in his grasp; "you must pay me by the surrender of yourself, byaccepting a life for a life. Katherine----"

"Ah! how can I answer you? If indeed you can trust and respect me, I canand will love you well, " she exclaimed, with the sweet frankness whichalways enchanted him. 

"Will you love me with the whole unstinted love of your rich nature? Icannot spare a grain, " said Errington, jealously. 

"But I do love you, " murmured Katherine; "I am almost frightened atloving you so much. "

Could it be cold, composed, immovable Errington who strained her soclosely to his heart, whose lips clung so passionately to hers?

"I have a great deal to tell you, " began Katherine, when she hadextricated herself and recovered some composure. "But I must go and seepoor Miss Payne; she will wonder what has become of me. "

"Tell her you are obliged to talk to me of business, and come back soon. I have much to consult you about, and I can only remain till to-morrowevening--do not stay away. "

And Katherine returned very soon. 

"Miss Payne is dreadfully puzzled, " she said, smiling and blushing, quivering in every vein with the strange, almost awful happiness whichoverwhelmed her. 

"Now, what have you to tell me?" asked Errington, and she gave him afull description of George Liddell's visit and proposal to provide forCis and Charlie. 

Errington was too happy to heed the details much, he only remarked thathe was glad Liddell had come to his right mind. 

"I want you to tell Miss Payne as soon as possible our new plans; she iscoming downstairs this evening, you say? Let me break the news to her. Ithink she will give us her blessing; and, Katherine, my sweet Katherine, there is no reason to delay our marriage. You have no fixed home; thesooner you make one for yourself and me the better. The idea isintoxicating. Our poverty sets us free from the trammels ofconventionality; we have nothing to wait for. "

So they were married. 

Here ought to come "Finis!" yet real life had only begun for them. Werethey happy? Yes. For under the wild sweetness of warmest passionatelove lay the lasting rock of comprehension and genial companionship. Fuller knowledge brought deeper esteem, and the only secret Katherineever kept from her husband was the true history of Rachel Trant. 

A severe attack of fever, brought on by overstudy, immediately afterKatherine's marriage, prevented Bertie Payne from carrying out hismissionary scheme. He was reluctantly obliged to put up with theEast-End heathen, "who, " as Miss Payne observed, "were bad enough tosatisfy the largest appetite for sinners. "

There his faithful sister established herself to make a home for him, renouncing her comfortable West-End abode, and finding ample interest inthe pursuits she affected to treat as fads. 

"Altogether everything has turned out in the most extraordinary andunexpected manner, " as Mrs. Ormonde observed to Mrs. Needham, whom sheencountered at one of Lady Mary Vincent's receptions. "Katherine seemsquite proud to settle down in a suburban villa away in St. John's Woodas Mrs. Errington, while she might have made a figure at court as Ladyde Burgh. By the way, I see your friend, Mrs. Urquhart, was presented atthe last drawing-room. "

"Yes, and was one of the handsomest women there. --But I don't supposeMrs. Errington ever gives a thought to drawing-room or Buckingham Palaceballs. --You see she is in a way always at court, for her king is alwaysbeside her, " returned Mrs. Needham, with a becoming smile. "Good-night, Mrs. Ormonde. "

THE END