"I do not mind how much you know," said Katherine, sadly. "I am glad you care enough to inquire."

"I want you to understand that I care very, very much," replied Errington, in a low, earnest tone. "You and I have crossed each other's paths in an extraordinary manner, and if you will allow me, I should like to act a brother's part to you if--" He broke off abruptly, and Katherine, looking up to him with a bright smile, exclaimed, "I shall be delighted to have such a brother, and will not give you more trouble than I can help."

"Thank you." He seemed to hesitate a moment, and then, with a change of tone, observed: "You and Miss Bradley seem to have become intimate. You must find her an agreeable companion. I think she might be a useful friend."

"She is extremely kind. I cannot say how much obliged to her I am; but,"

continued Katherine, impelled by an unaccountable antagonism, "do you know, I cannot understand why she likes me. There is no real sympathy between us. She is so wise and learned. She never would do wrong things from a sudden irresistible impulse, and then devour her heart with, not repentance, exactly, but remorse which cannot be appeased."

"Probably not. She is rather a remarkable woman. Strong, yet not hard. I fancy we are the arbiters of our own fate."

"Oh no! no!" cried Katherine, with emotion. "Just think of the snares and pitfalls which beset us, and how hard it is to keep the narrow road when a heart-beat too much, a sudden rush of sorrow or of joy, and our balance is lost: even steady footsteps slide from the right way. Believe me, some never have a fair chance."

Errington made a slight movement nearer to her, and after a brief pause said, "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-fashioned weapons, while hers are of the latest fashion and precision. Moreover, we stand on different levels, I am sorry to say. I wonder she troubles herself about me. Is it pure benevolence? or"--with a quick glance into his eyes, which were unusually animated--"did you ask her of her clemency to throw me some crumbs of comfort? If so, she has obeyed you gracefully 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 and appreciate Miss Bradley. She is a fine creature in every sense of the word. 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; "a different kind of sister."

Katherine felt her cheeks, her throat, her ears, glow, as she listened to what she considered a distinct avowal of his engagement to the accomplished Angela, but she only said, softly and steadily, "I hope she will 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 will act, 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 paused to 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 you so much to play Mrs. Grandison's accompaniment. She is going to sing one of your songs, and no one plays it as well as you do. So sorry to interrupt your nice talk; but what can a wretched hostess do?"

"Oh, I am quite ready, Mrs. Needham," said Katherine; and she rose obediently.

"Will you come, Mr. Errington?" asked the lady of the house.

"To hear Mrs. Grandison murder one of Miss Liddell's songs, which I dare say I have heard at Castleford? No, thank you. I shall bid you good-night. I am going on to Lady Barbara Bonsfield's, where I shall not stay 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 the drawing-room, and did not see Errington again for several days.

"I was vexed with you for not singing last night," said Mrs. Needham, as she sat at luncheon with her young friend the next morning. "You may not have a great voice, but you are much more thoroughly trained than half the amateurs whose squallings and screechings are applauded to the echo."

"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 going to, that I was afraid of making a fool of myself. When the change is accomplished I shall be all right again, and not bore you with my sentimentality."

"You don't do anything of the sort. You are a capital plucky girl. Now I have nothing particular for you to do this afternoon, and I can't take you with me; so just go out and call on Miss Bradley or Miss Payne to divert your----"

"A gentleman for Miss Liddell;" said the parlor maid, placing a card beside 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 him at Castleford."

Mrs. Needham eyed her curiously. "Oh, very well, dear," she said, with great cheerfulness. "Go and see him, and give him some tea; only it is too early. I am sorry I cannot put in an appearance, but I have just a hundred 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 straight away to the 'Incubator Company's Office;' I promised them a notice in my Salterton letter next week. There, go, child; I don't want you any more."

"But I am in no hurry, Mrs. Needham. Lord de Burgh is no very particular friend 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 for the British Benevolent Inst.i.tution for Aged Women? I do so want to get my gardener's mother--There, go, go, dear! You had better not keep him waiting." And Katherine was gently propelled out of the room.

In truth, she was rather reluctant to face De Burgh, although she felt gratified and soothed by his taking the trouble to find her out.

Katherine found her visitor pacing up and down when she opened the drawing-room door, feeling vexed with herself for her changing color and the embarra.s.sment she felt she displayed. De Burgh was looking taller and squarer than ever, but his dark face brightened so visibly as his eyes met Katherine's, that she felt a pang as she thought how unmoved she was herself.

"I thought you had escaped from sight!" he exclaimed, holding her hand for a moment longer than was absolutely necessary. "The first time I went 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 asked for Miss--you know whom I mean; she is rather a brick, and told me all about you. In the mean time I met Mrs. Ormonde. I was determined not to ask _her_ anything--she is such a selfish little devil. Now here I am face to face with you at last." And he drew a chair opposite her, and was 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 the matter with you? I did not think you were the sort of girl to break your heart over the loss of a fortune."

"But I have not broken my heart!" she exclaimed, somewhat startled by his 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 it annoys 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 the crowd of china and bric-a-brac ornaments and the comfortable chairs.

"How did you come here, and what has been settled? Don't think me impertinent or intrusive; you know you agreed we should be friends, and you must not send me adrift!"

"Thank you, Lord de Burgh. I am sure you could be a very loyal friend.