"You have no right to find fault with me," cried Katherine, stung to self-assertion. "I did well and generously by your children and yourself, Ada (I must say so, as you seem to forget it). There is more cause to sympathize with me in the reverse that has befallen me than to throw the blame of what is inevitable on one who is a greater sufferer than yourselves. Do you not know that the worst pang my bitterest enemy--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 deal mercifully with me, and not absorb my little all to liquidate what is legally due to him, I will gladly keep Cis and Charlie, and give them what I have, rather than throw them on Colonel Ormonde's charity. I am deeply sorry for your disappointment, but I have done nothing to irritate Colonel Ormonde into forgetting what is due to a lady and his wife's benefactress." Katherine was thoroughly roused, and stood, head erect, 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 gruff laugh. "I too deny that you should consider it a misfortune for the boys to come under my care. I owe a duty to my own son, and am not going to play the generous step-father to his hurt. If you can't come to advantageous terms with this--this impostor, as I verily believe he is. I'll send the boys to the Bluecoat School or some such institution. They have turned out very good men before this." "I am sure we could expect no more from Colonel Ormonde, and when you think that I shall be entirely dependent on him for"--sob--"my very gowns"--sob--"and--and little outings--and" a total break down. "If I am penniless," said Katherine, controlling her inclination to scream aloud with agony, "I must accept your offer--any offer that will provide for my nephews. If not, I will devote myself and what I have to them. I really wish you would go and see Mr. Newton; he will make you understand matters better than I can; and as you have come in such a spirit, I should be glad if you would leave me. I cannot look on you as friends, considering how you have spoken." "By George!" interrupted the Colonel, much astonished. "This is giving us the turn-out." "What ingratitude!" cried his wife, with pious indignation, as she rose and tied on her veil. Her further utterance was arrested, for the door was thrown open, and Francois 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 shaken hands with Katherine. "Miss Liddell has need of all her friends at such a crisis. How do, Colonel; you look the incarnation of healthy country life."