Katherine complied, and sat down on a settee which was behind a central group of tall feathery ferns. 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. "It is so much better for you to mix with your kind; it has a wholesome, humanizing influence, and may I venture to say that you are 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 her bouquet; "not given by the gods! Stolen from you!" She did not raise her eyes as she spoke. "I do beg you to put that incident out of your mind. We have arranged the question of succession, as only I had a right to do. No one else need know, and you will, I am sure, make a most excellent use of what is now 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 is always a trial to meet you. I think I would rather not. Tell me," with a sudden impulse of tenderness and contrition, looking up to him with humid eyes, "are you well and happy? How have you borne the terrible change in your life?" "I am perfectly well and quite happy," returned Errington, with a slight smile. "The terrible change, as you term it, has affected me very little. I find real work most exhilarating, and slight success is sweet. Since I knew that the tangle of my poor father's affairs was satisfactorily unravelled, I have been at ease, comparatively. Life has many sides. I miss most my horses." "Ah, yes, you must miss them! Well, from what I hear, you seem to be making 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 a home for myself and my little nephews. Without any formal agreement, Mrs. Ormonde leaves them very much to me. They are a great interest to me. And as you are so kind in wishing me to be happy and not morbid, I will try to forget. I think I could be happier if you would promise me something." "What?" "If ever--" She hesitated; her voice trembled. "If you ever want anything," she hurried on, nervously, "anything, even to the half of my kingdom, you will deign to accept it from me?" "I will," said Errington, with a kind and, as Katherine imagined, a condescending smile. "He thinks me a weak, impulsive child, who must be forgiven because she is scarcely responsible," she said to herself. "And this preliminary settled, you will admit me to the honor of your acquaintance?"