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She was another creature from the bright and somewhat coquettish girl who was always ready to answer De Burgh or Colonel Ormonde with keen prompt wit. Silent, downcast, scarcely able to raise her eyes to Errington's, yet too fascinated to resist his wish to continue their interview. "I am very glad to meet you here," began Errington in his calm, melodious voice.
"No? but then Katherine has a leaning to sanctity, and you are no saint." "True. By-the-way, talking of saints, there is a report that old Errington's affairs were not left in as flourishing a condition as was expected." "Oh, nonsense! It is some mere ill-natured gossip." "I hope so. I think I will come down on Saturday and escort you back to town." "Pray do; it will enliven us a little."
For an instant a look of acute pain leaped into Errington's eyes, but it was gone almost at once, and he turned to her composedly. "Is that the only reason, Diana?" he said. "The waste of time?" She was silent a moment, busying herself stripping off her gloves. Presently she looked up, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "No," she said steadily. "It isn't." "May I know the other reasons?"
On the whole, Katherine felt comforted by the assurance of Errington's friendly feeling toward her. How cruel it was to be obliged thus to reject his kindly advances! But it was wiser. If she met him often, what would become of her determination to steel her heart against the extraordinary feeling he had awakened?
He had nothing in common with the Colonel, whose pig-headed conservatism jarred on Errington's broader views, while his stories and reminiscences were exceedingly uninteresting, and sometimes worse. Mrs. Ormonde's small coquetries, her airs and graces, were equally unattractive to him.
She sang this seriously and sweetly till she came to the last three lines, when, catching Errington's earnest gaze, her voice quivered and her cheeks flushed. She rose from the piano as soon as she had finished, and said to the bonde, who had been watching her with proud and gratified looks "It is growing late, father. We must say good-bye to our friends and return home."
"Art thou a traveller's guide to all such places in Norway?" Somewhat to Errington's surprise, Svensen changed color and appeared confused; moreover, he removed his red cap altogether when he answered the bonde, to whom he spoke deferentially in rapid Norwegian. The old man laughed as he listened, and seemed satisfied; then, turning away, he linked his arm through Philip's, and said,
A great wall seemed to be rising up betwixt herself and Max; all her golden visions for the future were falling about her in ruins. "You are right," she said slowly. "No man should ask that of his wife." Errington's face twisted with pain. "I never meant to let you know I cared," he answered. "I fought down my love for you just because of that. And then it grew too strong for me. . . . My God!
"Something of that sort," he returned, and changed the subject by asking if they had heard how Errington's father was. "Better, I suppose, for Mr. Errington has returned. He met us when we were in Melford Woods." "I dare say he met Alice and Miss Brereton, then," said Mrs. Ormonde; "they were riding in that direction."
"Ah, then!" said Thelma simply and sorrowfully, "he must be very ill, because it is natural for every one to like you." She spoke in perfect good faith and innocence of heart; but Errington's eyes flashed and he smiled one of those rare, tender smiles of his which brightened his whole visage. "You are very kind to say so, Miss Gueldmar!" "It is not kindness; it is the truth!" she replied frankly.
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